Archive for the “Humor” Category

I’ve mentioned a few times here that I spent two years immediately after leaving the Marine Corps as a cross country truck driver. CDL, 18 wheeler, the Bear with the most rolling along coast to coast.

During those two years, a lot of things happened that could be blog fodder, if looked at in the right way.

I’ve got two different types of trucker stories to share.

I’ve got the ones that I personally saw or did and thought “WTF”, and then there are the ones that were told to me in truckstops by other truckers over a cup of coffee that sounded great, but who knows if they’re real or not?

Hence, Tales from the Truckstop.

On this lazy Friday I’d like to share one story in particular, a story that I can personally verify as having actually happened.

It remains in my mind as one of the biggest “WTF” moments of my life. 

It was a fine, sunny summer day in Illinois. I was driving my skunk truck north, rolling along I-57 after having spent a hellish morning making deliveries and pickups in the back alleys of St. Louis, on the west side of the river.

I was heading on north through southern Illinois, heading generally towards Chicago, but my intention was to cut over towards and around Indianapolis before reaching the I-80 corridor and barrelling on through to my eventual destination, a pet food processing plant near Allentown, Pennsylvania.

Perfectly placed along my path is the oasis of truck stop heaven known as Effingham, Illinois.

Effingham is to truck stops as Wal-Mart is to rednecks.

What I’m saying is, you see a LOT of bad flannel and too tight tube tops over stretch shorts in flourescent colors.

Oh, wait, no that’s not it. Oh well, whatever.

Back then they had a Petro travel center, a Flying J, two of the biggest truck stop chains around, and a ton of smaller mom and pop outfits all around that area. Acres of parking lots around central trucker facilities, facilities so large they had their own movie theater for truckers, I think at the Petro.

Yeah, that’s right, after a long day of trucking most truckers sleep in their trucks, they don’t get motel rooms. But you still want a nice meal, a shower, a place to relax and watch TV or movies, and socialise. The really big truck stops not only have the “free shower with fill up for truckers” that is pretty standard, but they’ve got movie theaters in the truck stop, TV rooms with stadium seating, massive video arcades and you name it.

Basically, a big truck stop is kinda like a massive shared apartment where your roomates work different shifts. You pop in, get a meal, take a shower, do your laundry, sit down and chill out watching a movie, hit the gym, and then back out to your truck for some sleep before hitting the road.

These days, what with satellite phones and internet and cheap laptops and T1 connections to the truck, it truly is a good representation of college dorm life. Minus the booze.

Effingham is a trucker mecca. As a major crossroads for over the road travel, with multiple main highways running through or nearby, at any given time hundreds if not thousands of trucks can be found parked amongst the lots with more trucks going in and out all the time.

I decided to take a break for a bit, get some rest and let my hours roll over on my log before I hit the next stretch of road. The US government regulates how may hours a professional driver is allowed to drive in a given 24 hours period, you have to maintain a continuous rolling logbook clearly listing start location, stop location, time spent driving, miles driven, and hours not driving, subject to audit by the DOT at anytime. You get audited and are found in violation, your ass is grass. But that’s another story, and it never happened to me. :)

I decide to roll into the Petro at Effingham, my favorite of the chains. I like their food, used to have a really nice beef brisket on the menu.

As I’m rolling into the big truck entrance following the continuous stream of trucks, I do notice one of the trucks heading out.

It was a big yellow semi, one of the trucks run by JB Hunt.

JB Hunt was famous back then, around ‘95, for having some of the most inexperienced and ignorant drivers on the road. True story or industry myth? Who knows?

I noticed this one in particular because I saw that the small side accessory panel door was open, and flapping in the breeze as he drove out the gate.

Note: Not the exact truck, photo is just to show you what door I mean.

The little accessory area there is for holding tools, tire thumpers, road flares and emergency signs, rags, that kind of stuff. It’s got a lock, and typically they open on side hinges like any other door. It’s not accessible from inside the truck.

Like I said, as I’m driving in, he’s driving out, and I notice his side accessory door flapping away.

I keep going in, not much I can do, what, I’m gonna flag him down? Chase him down the highway?

But one thing I CAN do is try and raise him on the CB.

I, like all other truckers, had a CB radio in the cab. I normally kept mine off, because truckers in my experience were for the most part illiterate, ignorant hate filled bigots. Not exactly the kind of people I felt like sharing a nice, lively debate with.

You still needed a CB, because most large companies used them in the shipping/receiving office to tell trucks when a dock door was open, and which one to back into.

Anyway, I flip on my CB to try and raise Mr. JB Hunt truck, when right away I hear another trucker break in and say something along the lines of, “Hey JB, you got a side door flapping there, son.”

Okay, mission accomplished, someone let the poor guy know already. Time to gather my shit and head in for a shower.

I’m parked and getting my stuff together, towel and shampoo kit, clean clothes, but the CB is still on in the cab.

I’m not really paying attention to it, I’d just forgotten to turn it right back off.

Suddenly, I hear this excited voice break in the channel, yelling “Holy shit, JB get your ass back in your truck!”

What?

Next thing I hear, literally the next thing is a different voice yelling “What the hell is he doing outside the truck?”

A brief pause.

“OMIGOD HE FELL OFF!!!!”

The radio went bugnuts after that.

I sat for a while listening to the panic, the screams, the confusion and uproar, but it was all a mess, no useful data buried in the noise, and after I started hearing sirens out on the highway roaring southbound, I shrugged and headed indoors.

Here is the story as pieced together by all the folks in the truckstop after the fact, with the assistance of some nice Highway Patrol fellas that were kinda curious wtf he mighta been thinking.

It turned out that good old Mr. JB Hunt driver, heading south from Effingham on I-57 at a high rate of speed, heard his fellow trucker warn him that his side panel door was swinging in the breeze.

At this point, a few miles away from the next exit and apparently having the f’ing Hope Diamond or something in his side panel that he just COULDN’T risk falling out, what he decided to do was place his rig on cruise control, open his driver door, and, while standing there and hanging onto his door frame and the steering wheel, swung his body out of the truck on the driver side and tried to kick the door closed.

Apparently, he took a few really good kicks at it and couldn’t quite reach, so he reaaaaaaally extended himself out there… and fell off his f’ing truck.

The truck, of course, was on cruise control, and blithely unaware of the fact it was now a flying dutchman, a rolling engine of death, doing 65 mph southbound down I-57.

Picture this with me, as I relive that moment in my minds’ eye.

A fully loaded 18 wheeler, dingy faded yellow, 80,000 pounds (40 tons) of steel and rubber, barrelling on down the interstate at 65 mph… with nobody at the wheel.

Just, holy shit.

Inevitably, not long after the idiot fell off, the truck drifted to the right, caught a bump, jack-knifed and flipped, coming apart in a nice graceful tumble down the right shoulder of the interstate, flinging debris and customer product into the treeline. 

Now, obviously I never got to follow up and find out the whole story, but at the time, the driver was being reported as okay, banged up and scraped bad, but basically fine.

Forever after, I will be driving along, and I’ll see somebody do something stupid on the road, and it will remind me of the all time stupidest driver I have ever seen or heard of in my entire life that managed to walk away from his accident.

I’ll remember that excited, anxious voice on the CB for the rest of my days.

“OMIGOD HE FELL OFF.”

That, and of course my immediate thought… “What a f#&(ing idiot.”

Comments 26 Comments »

So, I’m dreaming last night.

It’s me, and I’m hanging out with The Beatles and Cheech Marin.

I go into a hair salon to get a haircut, for some reason I think I really need a haircut, and the lady refuses to give me one. Just flat out refuses. Won’t serve me.

I’m ready to storm out of there, but Paul gets her to open up about why she’s being crabby, he’s a real smooth talker, and it turns out it’s because I’m wearing a t-shirt that says “Hey Congress – I love and support our troops, it’s YOU that suck, assholes!”

Paul gets her to agree to give me a haircut, but we have to go somewhere else and wait 78.5 minutes. Exactly 78.5 minutes.

Not because she has anything to do, just because she won’t serve me for 78.5 minutes.

No, I don’t know either.

We walk down the block, and we’re hanging out. Just waiting. Killing time.

I’m cutting up, acting the class clown, dancing goofy, flapping my arms around, just trying to get a laugh out of Cheech. It occurs to me I’m having a great time. Just, the best. No worries, nothing to do, nothing but time on my hands chilling out waiting to get a haircut, and joking with my buds Cheech and the Beatles.

I say to Ringo, “Hey dude… Zug Zug, man…” and bust out laughing.

Just, “Oh what a night… late December back in ‘63″ kind of times.

We wander back into the hair salon and I sit down in the chair for my haircut. I look up in the mirror, and realize…

I’m Chong.

Then I wake up.

Man….. that’s just messed up.

Comments 10 Comments »

My apologies in advance to Rodgers and Hammerstein.

Aggro on monsters that endlessly miss me
Beastmaster hunters and ghost saber kitties
Writing about bacon and bear butted themes
These are a few of my favorite things

Sons learning swimming and building toy models
Girl Genius comics and Sir Pratchett novels
Swift forms that fly and can herb on the wing
These are a few of my favorite things

Crüxshadow lyrics that scream out defiance   
Kitchen spruced up with a brand new appliance      
Wife of wide wonder that makes my heart sing
These are a few of my favorite things

When the PUG fails
When my work stinks
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don’t feel so bad.

Ret Pallies feeling all uber o’erpowered 
“Oh No John Ringo!” and Weber’s gal Honor 
Richard with bunnies and Bitterleaf’s grin
These are a few of my favorite things

Alex playing games with his wabbit slayer antics
Pink on Pandora and Starcraft all frantic
Ramsey’s foul mouth while Collichio’s king
These are a few of my favorite things

Smooth luscious Guinness in tall frosty glasses 
Bacon I’m naming twice in seperate stanzas
Playing the game when it’s Cassie and me
These are a few of my favorite things

When the PUG fails
When my work stinks
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don’t feel so bad.

To steal a line from Ryan Sohmer….

           – Because I can

Comments 25 Comments »

Those dang fool Mages are at it again!

First they went and figured out a way to make it easy to travel all over the world… cornering the market on fast transport. Want a ‘port? Ten dollah. You savvy ten dollah?

Of course, that was quickly followed by their secret cross-Azerothian furry porn ring.

What? You think they learn all those Polymorph spells for nothing? Why do you THINK Sheep is the FIRST one they all learn?

I’ve heard all about their parties… and the fact that BRK brings the beer each time says it all, doesn’t it? Yeah, we weren’t fooled by the recent, ahem, ‘controversy’, that’s one of them, whatdya call it, ’beards’ dont’cha know. We hear he’s mighty close to Hobbes, is what I’m sayin’.

But that wasn’t enough. Then they went and teleported all that lime green jello into the Paladin swimming pool during the Argent Tournament, causing Jong to ruin his best thong.

Okay, that was pretty funny, I’ll give ‘em that. I understand Jong didn’t even have anything else to put on for the party, since when he wears his plate, he goes commando, baby.

Not that the ladies were complaining, from what I understand. I wouldn’t know, I’ve been banned from that shindig ever since the infamous three week long marathon “All You Can Eat BLT” scandal during the ’09 Tournament.

Ahem. Moving on.

Now, THIS is the last straw!

Those dang Mages have gone and created their own secret communications network, dedicated to spreading their secret plans for world domination and recipes for jello shots!

Well, I ain’t standing by any longer, doing nothing while the New Mage Order works on overcoming the inherent Druid immunity to Polymorph. 

No, I won’t go silent into that terrible night! I’ll shout the news from the rooftops!

Go! Take yourself to their secret network, and read everything you may find. Make copies of their plans, and spread the news far and wide! Let it be obscured no longer!

Make sure EVERYONE knows about those Mages and where they go… our lives, our safety, even our sacred honor depend on it!

Just say NO to Bear Sheeps!

Comments 13 Comments »

There is a movie coming out soon starring one of the most famous bears of all time.

I normally wouldn’t mention it, but there is this movie poster they released for it that, at least on a slow news day, is sparking a little controversy.

I took one look at it, and thought it would be great fun to have a little “Write your own tagline” fun.

First, the poster;

Now, you look at Yogi’s delighted expression, and Boo Boo’s surprised expression, then read the tagline, “Great things come in bears”, and, well, that’s not bad.

They did a pretty good job on that poster, assuming they were LOOKING to make a poster you could just read waaaay too much into.

But we can do better, can’t we?

When I see that poster, I think, “I can top that.”

Here are a few of my suggestions for alternate taglines;

  • “Grab your ankles and have a beary good time!”
  • “He’s harder than the average bear.”
  • “Hey hey, Boo-boo!”

Okay, those are a bit over the top. I apologise.

I’m still going to post it, though.

How about you? Does that poster inspire any creative taglines in YOUR brain housing group? Let me know!

Comments 30 Comments »

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