Just a Little Something - Smelliness

This shirt is camouflage for our kind, more affective if upwind.

I'm not sure if this is possible but I think I ate so much asparagus last night that I am now secreting it through my pores. Maybe Vanessa just shoved a couple of stalks up my nose while I was sleeping to keep me from snoring. It's all I can smell right now. Changing the odor of my urine I accept, but this is too much. It's like it has reconfigured my DNA, blasting asparagus scented pheromones out of me like wind swept bait to other foul smelling creatures.  Will I be an outcast from society, forced to live with other smelly people like odiferous lepers? Perhaps I can take a lover who reeks of olive oil or cheese so our children will at least be flavorful to the jungle cats surrounding our isolated camp. Maybe we can all establish a new community overlooking The Bog of Eternal Stench where our offensive fragrances can go unnoticed.

Elky Haul

On Friday the gang gathered for some carnivorous delights. Rather than visiting our local grocer or butcher, our meat selections came from the nearby Elk Farm. Several of us had never tasted the animal and were sort of unsure what it actually looked like with all its useless inedible fur and antlers still attached.

The before and after pictures above give you some deep elk insight. It's a real dark red meat and very tender. The taste is not unpleasant and I actually found the smell of the blood to be fragrant. In the end it's another animal I can cross off my "to eat" checklist, including snake, frog, and squirrel. I'm really looking forward to trying owl, those smug looking jerks, but my end goal is really to find animals whose flavors and sizes complement each other for my ultimate "meat mash up".

Stuffed babushka doll style inside each other, honoring the humble beginnings of the Turducken, I plan to add as many tasty creatures as possible to the eventual meat masterpiece. My assumption at this point is that buffalo will create the final outside layer, that is prior to being wrapped in bacon. Which other of God's many delectable works make it into the fleshy array have yet to be finalized, but auditions will likely remain open for some time.

(elk image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/18729659@N00/2417706828)

Who am I to question me?

Image by Getty Images via Daylife

As I returned to work this morning with my Starbucks coffee in hand, I began to wonder about who I had become and how far from my twenties' self I had strayed. There was a time when the day began at noon and a beer for breakfast was not a rarity. I was a failure at school, had no goals or dreams for a stable future, and lived only for the moment. The word venti was nowhere in my vocabulary.

Though I was aware of the disapproval others had for my lifestyle, I was fine with being emotionally driven, motivated only by prospects of pleasure, in search of the next good time. I was a hedonist, and felt no guilt for sluffing responsibility for the immediate return of self-gratification.

Time passed and I didn't die a young rebel going out in a blaze of glory. To my surprise I got older and life progressed, if not at least continued. I dropped out of college, was fired from several jobs, and regarded my friends and family as faded apparitions.

Years Later.
Now I'm working in a respected profession, making a decent salary, and live in a trendy Midtown Atlanta apartment. Reflecting on that past era in my life I suppose I should see how stupid I was or consider those years a waste, but I don't. I was young, directionless, and a bit of a thick-headed jerk, but I was pursuing happiness which is what we're all still doing.

The old me never wanted to be a button-down, stuck up, Starbucks drinking professional, and never thought he would be. The old me would have knocked the overpriced chain retailer coffee right out of my hands. I hope however, with some explanation, he would still be okay with who I am.

Okay. I'm a bit typical. I do what most guys my age do, still clinging to their youth. I drink beer when I can and wear throwback T-shirts to show people how cool I still am. (I'm okay with my Atari shirt and my Bob Ross Happy Trees tee.)

Part of me needs the respect and understanding of my old self, hoping I'm not what I would have considered a "total sell-out." The newer part of me though wants to punch the old me right in the nose and tell him to "get it together."

I know however that I am both men, a blend of the good and bad parts of each. So I've started to look to the future and make some plans, but I can still be impulsive. I'm a working professional but I still say inappropriate things around coworkers. I make more money than I used to but I'm still cheap, er thrifty. (I saved my coffee cup from the day before to get the refill discount the following day.)

I'll never be truly comfortable as a button-down type, though that's mostly due to my problem with losing buttons off my shirts. I'm not too worried about becoming a faceless conformist because I'm still a snob when it comes to music and movies. I've used valet parking and been to a non-movie theater show, but I'm not a materialistic upper class citizen. (My class is well revealed just by how I spell theater.)

I may drink Starbucks but I still have a few steps to go before I'm a completely pretentious douche bag prick. When I buy a BMW and start yelling at hotel staff I'll become worried. Until then I think both old and new me have balanced out just fine.