Open Water Torture

Terrible things took place on February 25, 2012. My life will now be divided into two sections: before 10,000 daggers stabbed every part of my body at once, and after. While my BD (Before Dagger) memories will be featured in technicolor, the AD (After Dagger) memories from my life will forever be in black and white when I reminisce. And not the classy-film kind of black and white. The depressing-film kind of black and white.

My Ironman training buddy Dan and I headed to Hell south this weekend to bike part of the Ironman course and swim in the lake. It is no exaggeration that I envisioned this weekend to look like the latter half of an anti-depressant or Viagra commercial, with the peaceful smiling, graceful bike riding, and slow motion nostalgic splashing in the water. Reality: It ended up looking more like the latter half of Titanic. But without the romantic self-sacrifices. Or the nudity. And ironically, because of my swimming experience I will probably now need anti-depressants for the rest of my life. And maybe Viagra.

Sleeping With Serhei Video

I just spent the weekend trying to swim in an icy body of water. You may have heard my screams if you were in any of the following states at the time: Utah, Colorado, Arizona, California, Nevada, Idaho, New Mexico, Being. Story to come--if ever I recover.

In the meantime, please enjoy the first five minutes of the story I told last week on The Porch about couchsurfing with Serhei. I will be sending this video in as part of a humor competition I'm currently competing in. Your hits on the video will make me look super popular to the judges and will thus be greatly appreciated (I will reward you in hugs and Facebook pokes (do those still exist?)).

~It Just Gets Stranger

Texts With A 12 Year Old

I'm in the middle of a humor competition for attorneys and I'm supposed to send a short video of me attempting to be funny so a bunch of people can sit in a back room somewhere and judge me (it's high school social circles all over again). The top six from this round will compete in finals in New York at a comedy club in May. We'll be shooting the video this Thursday on The Porch at Muse Music in Provo. I didn't expect to be on The Porch again but I'm so excited to be back and would love to see some of you there (I would even love to see all of you there, but some of you are probably serial killers so maybe it's best to just have the "safe-for-societies" out). I've sent invites to Larry, The Queen of Colors, and The First Eye, but I'm not expecting much as none of them have ever really been there for me when I've needed it the most. Lohan will be there, of course. But that's just because he depends on living inside me to stay alive (bless his heart). Doors open at 7:30. Please come and laugh super hard, even if it's forced (I have no problem with fake laughter).

In other news, my good friend Matt sent me screen clippings of a recent text conversation he had with a seventh grade girl who texted him thinking he was a seventh grade boy she apparently has a seventh grade crush on. Below is the conversation. We love you Matt. And we all hope you don't end up on "To Catch a Predator" one day.

Phone Upgrade

Hell froze over.

Long-time readers may remember my phone-purchase debacle of 2009 when I finally upgraded from my flip-phone to one that I thought was the most technologically advanced piece of machinery that would likely ever be developed by the civilized world. I sincerely believed in 2009 that a phone that you didn't have to flip open to use and could take pictures was a sign of the times and we were most definitely within two years of the Apocalypse. I also picked up a parasite named "Lohan" that year. While Lohan was the bane of my existence in the early part of his life, he has since become like family to me. We sometimes play a game I've named "throat-tickle" involving sitting over a hot bowl of chicken soup after starving myself for 24 hours with my mouth gaping open. I must say, however, I do feel pretty used most of the time. It's a relationship of give and take, where I'm always the one giving, and he's always the one taking. He's basically like, well, a parasite.

Drowning in a Wet Suit

Bob and Cathie are growing ever more concerned as the days go on and the May 5th doomsday approaches (Ironman). Typically beacons of hope and encouragement, they took on a new role when they discovered that I committed to attempt to swim in a lake with 2,000 of my closest friends in a save-yourself battle-to-the-death competition. Suddenly having vivid flashbacks of swimming lessons in 1994 when I never quite mastered the "don't sink" technique (I don't remember its official name), they both began, and have continued to, point out as often as possible how terrified they are about my lack of abilities.

In recent weeks Cathie has been heard to say such things as, "How will the boats spot you when you start drowning?" "Your father and I are trying to stay on God's good side right now to improve your chances of survival" and my personal favorite, "Have you made a list of account numbers and other information we'll need if something happens to you in that lake?"

Bob usually just shakes his head whenever the subject is mentioned. I recognize this fervently-confused head-shaking because it's the same reaction I get whenever I accidentally share too much information about risks I take while traveling, like sleeping in the homes of strangers I met the day before online or climbing into unmarked vehicles after getting stranded in the middle of a large city at 3:00 in the morning hoping for a ride home (I should not be free or alive).

The Worst Things Ever

It's time to make "The Worst Things Ever" list for 2012, so we can all focus our hate on what really matters throughout this year. I have my list below, in no particular order. Please suggest in the comments anything you would like to submit to the list and we will consider including it: