fear and loathing in nicaragua

~names have been changed~
i went to nicaragua a month ago & it was easily one of the greatest trips i've ever done. due mostly to a series of questionable, to down-right bad, decisions. it started with:

5 am: i arrive at the mexico city airport at for a 7am international flight. i left my surfboards in a storage locker 3 days prior when i arrived in the city.

5:15am: i figure out that i am in the international terminal & my boards are in the domestic terminal, a bus ride away. damitamy.

6am: i've got a 176 year old man with a dolly, toting my boards & luggage for me. he moves at exactly the pace you would think a 176 yr old man would move. somewhere around now, i realize i left my camera in mexico city. that makes the 3rd or 4th camera i've lost this year.  damitamy.

6:57am: i make my plane with literally 7 min to spare, but the plane sits on the runway for another 30 min. my layover for my connection in panama is 38 minutes. repeat: 38 minutes. and now 30 of those minutes are gone. somehow i make the connection & watch my bags make it too. (here is where i'd like to give a shout out to copa airlines, because they deserve it & they didn't charge me for boards or my severely overweight baggage) i arrive in nicaragua to the driver i arranged, omar, who takes me to the ATM, where i get my 1st of 3 armed escorts. at certain places omar wants me to roll up the window & lock the door. we also have to stop & buy me a new camera. the guy at the camera store tells me not to take photos walking down the street. someone will jack my camera. i can't tell if nicaragua is that dangerous, or my blonde hair & blue eyes stick out like a turd in a punch-bowl, or they're overly protective of me. whichever it is, its entertaining.

3 very sweaty hours later i arrive at my destination, the northern end of the country. middle of nowhere. there's no real town or people around. its gorgeous & green. i am in love immediately.

i meet the only other guys that are staying there as they sit around divy'ing up prescription drugs over dinner. i wake up to good, fun surf. and here's where things get interesting. the guys (american); jake, tom, lippy, & weasel have 3 nicaraguan kids (ages 13-18) with them because lippy & weasel live down in the south of nicaragua & brought the whole crew up to surf. but, alas, they are heading back down. i'm bummed they're leaving because they're good entertainment, so they invite me with them. YESSSSSSSS! now there are 8 of us, luggage, & probably15 surfboards in/on an SUV. an SUV that got washed down a river the week before & now it's having a few issues.

so we buy beer & get our road trip on. the highway in nicaragua is kind of like a video game. its one lane each direction & NO shoulder. there are cars, 18 wheelers, old US school buses, tractors, horse drawn carts, & bicycles (with never less than 2 people on them) all sharing the road. there's a check point every 50 meters, it seems. we blaze thru the 1st check point. weasel is yelling at lippy because we have to stop at the check points. have to! lippy is yelling back "i can't stop!! i don't have a valid license!" solution: chinese fire drill before each check point & someone in the car with a license gets us thru the checks. we buy more beer. even lippy tells us to roll up the windows & lock the doors, and i have discerned that he is crazy & not scared of much. we go to western union. lippy has to pick up some money. western union has an armed guard who lets lippy in then shuts a big gate behind him, guards it, & makes sure lippy gets back in the car with all of his money. we stop at a pharmacy so the boys can restock their pills. onward. check point. we stop & everybody gets out as per orders of the guys with guns. purpose of the check points: to extort money. done. onward. jake says to me "oh, you should probably know that we have a gun in here." sweet. we buy more beer. someone asks a question, tom answers with "when i was in prison..." my only question: "what's the craziest thing you saw somebody stick up their ass?" answer: "a pack of cigarettes" we stop to get gas. a little kid (10'ish) steals all of lippy's western union money out of the car while we sit there & don't notice. he was a stealth little shit head. onward. weasel is telling the story where he fucked the hooker for free. she didn't charge him. he's very proud of this.  enter lippy to clear it all up. lippy paid the hooker for weasel. i watched weasel wilt before my very eyes. damn hooker, she broke his heart.


quick re-cap. i just met these guys. there are 8 of us crammed into the SUV. i am now somewhere in nicaragua with them. they're the only people who know where i am. everyone (except the kids) is drunk. of the drunk ones, i am the only one that hasn't enhanced the buzz with pills. about half of us have a license that we have to stop & show, often, to guys with guns. we have a gun. at least one guy has been in prison.

8 hours later, we turn onto a dirt road . we drive thru about 4 rivers & i get dropped off at the end of this dirt road, at 11pm, safe & sound, aside from the pain of laughing so hard it felt like i'd been having a seizure for 8 straight hours.

after a week of fun, empty surf & making new friends (americans, canadians) that seem to either not quite fit in with society as we think it should be or possibly can't return for colorful reasons,  i have scored a ride half way back to where i came from. in a land of horse drawn carts & insane death-wishing bus drivers, this is a blessing. i jump in the truck with my 3 new, nicaraguan friends, julio, ana, & isabel. as we near town, i am again instructed to roll up the windows & lock the doors. another check point, but this time julio pulls out an ID i haven't seen before. no one else has to show ID (strange), we don't have to get out of the car (weird), we don't pay, & we are waved thru with urgency. WTF??? i am traveling with the right people. 2nd stop at the ATM. 2nd armed escort. its broad daylight. there are several other people there surviving with no escort. turd in a punch bowl. we get to managua & ana has arranged for her friend to pick me up & take me the next 3 hrs of the adventure. i walk out to his car & his license plate makes it apparent that he is member of central american parliment. sweet. now we don't even have to stop at check points. he's arranged someone to take me the last hour from his house to where 90% of what i own in this world was, but its 10pm. its dark. there is no guarantee i can find the place down a dirt road, even then there is no guarantee i can get onto the secure property if i manage to find it. its better if i sleep at his house (questionable or down right bad decision?). i wake up at 5:30 am to one very angry guard dog who i did not meet the night before. shit! the maid saves me. i walk outside to the armed guard who i did not meet the night before. double shit! oh wait, turd in a punch bowl. that's why he's staring. he's sure i'm not there to kidnap or kill anyone. there's my ride. guy in a truck takes me an hour to my final destination. i get another week of fun, empty surf.

and there's omar to take me back to airport. roll up the windows & lock the doors. i finally ask why. because guys on motorbikes & foot sometimes race by & snatch things out of the cars that are trapped in slow traffic. omar also tells me that taxis are a bad idea because sometimes the drivers rob you (i could be looking at kidnapping &/or rape...turd/punch bowl) & leave you. i learned from isabel that lots of people are killed on the mini-buses because the drivers are nuts. 3rd ATM stop. 3rd armed guard. thanks guys.

transportation recap: don't take a taxi. don't ride the bus.

all of the sudden i realize i've made the best decisions and had one of the greatest times of my life. nicaragua, i love you.

Oh, yes I am

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how many of these did i do?

Redneck Newsletter Xmas 2007

The number of hours I can spend sleeping in WV is, to say the least, remarkable. I sleep for 10-12 hours a night, then take a 2 hour nap later.  We have a total of 3 Lazy-Boy-esque recliners in the living room and all 3 are in use over half of the day.  It's amazing how sedentary we are. I'm surprised blood can pump with that little movement. Alex (my 25 yr old nephew) says we (Sam, Alex, & myself) are all fat kids at heart, due to the amount of food we consume. We must've gotten a special metabolic gene because we should be massive, but shockingly we aren't. My dad, Sam (my brother), and Alex are on a constant quest to gain weight. I'll settle for the fact that I'm no bigger.

There was yogurt in the fridge from my last visit. It, shockingly, looked and smelled fine, but Sam protested when I said I'd eat it, so the result of that experiment will remain unknown. Maybe next year.

There are 2 bars here we hang out at. One is the Alpha. It has probably 40+ dead animals hanging on the walls. It is also the place where, this year, I was the one to get into fight. Don't get too excited, it was strictly verbal and she was about 60 years old, oh yeah, and she was also my dad's best friend's wife. Dad doesn't know about the fight yet, but I imagine I'll be in trouble if he finds out. The other bar is The 19th Hole, but we just call it The Hole. The name 19th Hole leads one to believe that is a golf-oriented bar, but it's not. It's a hole. A fantastic hole & one my favorite stops when i visit. It was here that some guy was running his mouth at me, some other random guy peels a $50 off of a wad of cash, lays it on the bar, looks at Alex, and says "You can have it if you knock him out." Alex declined, & then said "She could knock him out if she wanted." So, re-cap, 1 night, 2 bars, 2 fights, both mine.

Dad saves and then re-uses everything. There were popsicle sticks in the dish drying rack. I asked what they were for. Dad says "Oh, I don't know yet." But that didn't stop him from eating the popsicle, saving the stick, and washing it.

Sam prepared 100% of Xmas dinner, then did all the dishes before AND after we ate, which beats the crap out of me doing it. The only thing I was in charge of was when Dad told me to use a particular dish to put something (food oriented) in, I got the dish, and had to ask "Where should I put the key, drill bit, and washer that are in it?" and then we ate out of it. That's why Sam does everything. He likes things cleaner than Dad & I do.

I am hoping Gretchen (Alex's mom) will come to CA for a visit. She asked Alex if she could visit him (he lives at the beach in NC), he gave a vehement "NO!" She asked Sam (he lives in Morgantown, WV), he said "Ah, I know all the cops. Why not?"  She asked me, I said "Absolutely!" Orange county will never be the same if she visits. She is crazy in the most fun sort of way; she can out-party any rock star, out-talk me, out-drink any Marine, chain smoke a carton of cigarettes, she is in a bike "club" she made Jell-O shots with moonshine for her Xmas party. She's 45, should look like she's 145, but, instead, looks 32.

So I debated whether this story would make the newsletter. I make fun of everyone I love in this thing, but hesitated when it came at my expense. Except its not fair to laugh at everyone else, then save myself.  Christmas night I went drinking at the Hole with Sam & Alex. I can put away beer with the best of them, we won't get into how much, but a 6 pack can't hurt me & I'm not scared of a 12 pack. Its my special WV upbringing/early-age liver conditioning. Then Sam says "Let's do a shot" I say "Well, I never do shots. I'll throw up. But I'll do one with you guys." So I do a shot, yes, ONE shot, with Sam & Alex, 30 min. passes, I say "Take me home." Alex foolishly thinks there's time to spare, but Sam knows better, he has seen me throw up in a cup at a bar (Tortilla Flats). Sam tosses me in the car, we make it the 3 blocks home, I jump out of the car, and promptly vomit (all over the snow) in Dad's front yard..... on Christmas!!

Dad has Sam's dog, Leonard, on a very special diet. Mostly, its because Dad just gives it to the dog rather than put it down the disposal. For breakfast Leonard had the  remainder of Dad's cereal & milk with bananas, quickly followed by freezer-burnt shrimp.  Dinner, for Dad & the dog, was kielbasa (polish sausage) and ice cream. My dinner wasn't much better. I had fried cheese sticks and kielbasa.... fat kid at heart. I have grown very fond of a new (at least to me) Little Debby snack cake. It's called a cherry cordial. Its 2 cakes with cherry cream filling & chocolate icing. It has something like 80% of the saturated fat you should (probably not) have in a day. Dad has created a new food group out of anti-histamines. He also has a cookbook that tells you how to make possum & tongue (and raccoon, oxtail soup, etc). Dad says says tongue is really good with horseradish once you get past what it is that you're really eating.

As I was walking Leonard, I saw a car that had half of the roof COMPLETELY fashioned of duct tape. More frightening is it was a Honda Element. No one here drives a foreign car, or for that matter, a car less than 10 years old, so how he got that car, fairly recently, and managed to need a "new" roof is beyond me.

Dad bought bought a remote control truck to chase Leonard. That poor dog.

redneck newsletter. oct 2007 edition

 here's another blast from the past....

So my dad had me go to the grocery store for him. This is a reproduction of the shopping list:

Sprite & Coke
Twinkies (I accidentally bought low-fat ones. Who knew those even existed?)
Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies
Ice cream (chocolate & strawberry)
Milk (but only for use in milk shakes)
Strawberry & chocolate syrup (milk shakes again)
I think this is the way every kid would shop, given the opportunity.

If you've gotten this newsletter before you know about the challenges that Dad places on his sink disposal. He finally found something that slows it down. Remember, this is the same disposal that has completely devoured a glass, watermelon rinds, and most of his silverware. He put whole corn on the cob down it. Whole. I expected the cob to be the problem. Nope. It was the silk. It wrapped around the blades & he had to disassemble it to clean it, but it's fine again & I shoved most of a cantaloupe down it.

It's huntin season (the "g" is silent in WV). The neighbor & his 2 sons (ages 9 & 13), completely decked out in camo, stopped by on their way to go kill things. They had squirrel, biscuits & gravy for breakfast. Did Dad want some? Really.

You can't buy beer here before 1:00pm on a Sunday, no matter how badly you need it.

Dad always finds a new place to surprise me with his false teeth. I found them in the washing machine.... after I washed my clothes. It was the best one yet, beating, by far, the time I found them in the middle of the living room floor. At least I'm sure that they're cleaner this time. I expressed concern that I may run out of dental floss while I was  here (if you know me well, you know I floss at least 2 times a day). Dad says "Oh, there's tooth floss in the cupboard. It's probably 20 years old." Now you should understand why I'm the only member of my family with all of my original teeth & why I'm highly involved in keeping them.

Our fake Christmas tree is still fully assembled and sort of upright... it's just in Sam's room instead of the living room.

Sam cleaned the fridge out again, he's really interfering with the game of "guess the expiration date after I've eaten it" that Dad & I usually play. No more eating feta cheese that's a year old. I'm not sure how I'll maintain my gastrointestinal system that's stronger than a goat's if Sam keeps this crap up. He's ruining my training. I have no idea what happens to my usually exceptional eating habits when I get here, but I can tell you that for 4 days I did not eat a single vegetable. I have replaced vegetables (and most fruits, chicken, whole grains, and water) with low-fat Twinkies, pizza, Long John Silver's, beer, and the miscellaneous candy lying around the house. Salt is a food group. I can't find the aerosol cheese but when I do, I will live on that for days. I love that stuff.

I had to go to the store again for Dad. My list:
Vanilla ice cream (for root beer floats)
Mini-powdered sugar doughnuts
That non-dairy powdered creamer stuff for coffee
Bud light
Southern Comfort
Still somewhat reminiscent of a 9 years old's list.... a 9 year old that likes to catch  a buzz.

My Uncle Scragg (it's his real name, like it's the name on his birth certificate) came over. He was having a fit because he'd just had his oil changed. He only needs his oil changed every 5,000 miles, but they put a sticker on the windshield that said he needed it in 3,000 miles. He said he read the guys at the garage the riot act. My dad lit him up for being ridiculous. Mostly, it's just really funny to watch 70 year old brothers fight like they're 12.

I told Sam that people walk across the street in WV without any regard for traffic or traffic lights. Sam said that's how it should be; that people should not be afraid to cross the street. I said I agree, but they should look before they do it. He told me I'd been in California too long. You could spend all day at a 4-way stop here in WV. Everybody is too nice to go 1st so you just sit and wait.... and wait.

Lavender with purple trim is a perfectly acceptable color to paint your house, though split-pea-soup-green with mustard yellow trim is more popular.

I almost sent this newsletter prematurely, It was 8pm the night before I flew out. I thought "What else could  happen?" Well then Gretchen calls. Do Sam & I want to meet her for something to eat.  If you don't know who Gretchen is by now, you need to catch up. She is generally the center of anything fun. So I said yes, Sam & I will meet her there.  As Sam & I walk into the bar, there's a scuffle. Its girls, which is a minor change from the guys. Then all we hear is "Get out you fucking  narc !"  and for the 4th time (I think.... I'm starting to lose count) someone  is lying (but not unconscious) on the floor in front of me. It's a female, which is new. She's coherent, which again is new. Gretchen's husband helps her up & out of the bar. No shortage of bar fights here.

With every visit, I love it just a little bit more here.

You're Welcome

genius statements from my brother

i wanted to save these until i had more, but as i re-read them i feel that i just have to get them out there. impatience is one my best qualities & strongest traits. but don't worry, i'll update this area as they come. there is no shortage.


"i want to be a tickle therapist"

"it is virtually impossible to get arrested in WV. i've tried"

"people here drink too much. its the only way they can breed"

"i killed a opossum by pee-ing on it" (here's where i hope PETA isn't reading this)

my brother's friend's name is Stinky "stinky lived with his mom till she moved out"

"politics is like pro-wrestling. sometimes the good guys win. sometimes the bad guys win. it's how they keep you interested"

wild wonderful west virginia

email my brother just sent me

Although I respect the 'professional traveler' status, all I can assume is that you have left quite a bit of stuff along the way.

Here, you left several tubes of shampoo (not like you bathe...), and a training bra.

Will be happy to ship, just give me an address.

WV job opportunities

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Radio commercial here in WV starts with "if high school just wasn't for you..."

Booby-trapped toilet seat

They're called pop-pops. They go off like a lady-finger firecracker. Now sit on 2 of them with your pants around your knees. because that's what i did. this is a photo of the toilet seat with the exploded pop-pops still taped in place & me holding the unexploded version.
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Its a sport here

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redneck news letter summer 2007

 I needed to make a bathroom stop on the way to Sam's house from the airport. We stopped at a grocery store that smelled like rotten meat. I stood in line (there were more people using the bathroom than there were in the store) behind a very pregnant girl on her cell phone. She continued her conversation in the stall. So I hear "Well, can you give momma that $5 'cause I gotta git cigarettes." Lovely. Pregnant... needs cigarettes.

I went to a flea market. Don't think 'swap meet'. It's more a convention for the unemployed. They have terrible body odor & smoke 7 packs of cigarettes a day, and they really want to sell stuff everybody else has thrown away about 14 times.  It was at this flea market that I saw my first West Virginia drag queen. I've lived in LA and NYC. I've seen a lot of drag queens, I've been friends with drag queens, but holy crap! A WV drag queen is either something you could live your whole life without seeing or you haven't really lived until you've seen one.

There is a store here called "Smoker Friendly". Cigarette smoking is like a sport.

I have been gone too long. I can barely understand some of the people here. Sometimes I wonder if English could really be considered their first language. I heard a guy ask for a gree-ull in Wal-Mart. Gree-ull, 2 syllables. You know what he wanted? A grill.

I met Sam's friend. They told me the story about the night they were out in Sam's old VW Rabbit, that he'd cut most of the roof out of. It rained very heavily that night while they were in the bar. They come back to the car, and it has about 4 inches of water in it. Sam says "Oh, I'll have to drill holes in that when i get home to drain the water. Friend says "You wanna drain that? I'll take care of it." Sam says OK. Friend pulls out his pistol, shoots a hole in the passenger floor board, Sam nods in approval, Friend shoots another hole in the driver side, and they drive home, water draining freely.  I do remember the end of that VW Rabbit and it was fitting. Sam drove it until it couldn't be driven anymore (in his words: "cars come to me to die") He then bought a little VW pick up. He took every useful part he could off of the Rabbit, and needed to take the rest of the Rabbit to the junk yard, but it wouldn't fit into his truck. Sam borrowed Dad's welding torch and cut the car in half. He takes the 1st half to the junk yard. They explain they can't accept cars in pieces lest they be stolen. Sam takes it home and uses the torch to cut the car into several significanly smaller pieces, then unscrews the skirting from around the trailer he lived in (yeah. You heard me. Trailer) and put "the car" under the trailer. It's probably still there. Who's idea was this? Our dad's.

My brother boobie-trapped the toilet seat. I sat on it & it exploded. Damn WV for making fireworks legal. And I had dinner with a guy named Stinky.

Reference previous blog somewhere regarding my nephew's ex that's the bank robber. Because now she's a stripper. We saw her at work last night.

"We should go to the bar at the clubhouse. U don't have to watch ur back there. No one will hit u with a pool cue or bottle"-family & bike gang member

My brother named his car "the calico cat". Its 3 different colors. Why? In his words "because I crash it a lot"

summer 2005

i sit here typing this under my dad's sign that says "you may touch the dust but, please, don't write in it".  the first thing my dad says to me upon entering the house is "do you know what this is?" & shows me a baggie full of something. knowing my father it could be food... it could be car parts... i can't tell what it is. it was dog hair........ from my brother's dog, leonard.... my dad saved it from the rug scrubber (translation: carpet cleaner) because he felt it was such an impressive amount.

 

i wish i could remember all the billboards that i've seen driving around her but they include: vasectomy.com, colon & rectal surgery, economy dentures...

 

last night i was at the bar with all the dead animal heads on the walls, hanging out with my brother, sam & my nephew, alex. alex's ex-girlfriend that robbed the bank came to meet us & that was cool, because i've never hung out with a bank robber before... she's out on parole... that part isn't very exciting since almost everyone here is out on parole.

redneck newsletter xmas '05 continued

i guess posting the old ones is a good warm up for the new ones.

We got things started off right by attending a party at my niece & nephew's mother's house. She fortunately made about 150 Jell-O shots (seriously, 150). The green ones were tequila. I think there were about 10 or 15 of  us there. We finished the Jell-O shots. You want to know what everyone does after that many Jell-O shots? You sing karaoke, of course. They have the whole home system with more music choices than you can fathom. I sang several songs, none of which I remember. Though, thanks to my brother, it is on video.  
 
My father told me a story that offered quite a bit of insight to my behavior when it comes to me going on surf trips. Everyone knows how excited I get for a trip (a few of you have seen my posterboard countdown charts). On a road trip to the beach when I was about 8, we stopped to eat & I  started talking to random people (hard to
believe, I know). I was so excited, telling them how I was going to the beach, that I threw up all over them.
  

We, as a family had to attend some holiday party. My dad was in charge of bringing "the relish tray" (veggies & dip). To keep things interesting, he took the pimentos out of the olives & replaced them with Dentyne gum. You don't get a 3 day stretch without my dad playing a practical joke on someone. Steer clear of this man on the 4th of July. I think he's responsible for several of his friends' heart conditions. I went into the Sheetz gas station/quick mart thing that you heard about last year if you got that newsletter (it's lit up like Las Vegas & you can order a sandwich from a touch screen on the gas pump). So usually you go into one of these places to buy beer & they have coolers lining the wall, right? Not here. It's a whole refrigerated room with an automatic door & stacks of cases of beer. One of the beer options was a special limited edition of Busch in a camoflage carton, it was special & limited because it was the hunting edition. HUNTING! That involves guns! To which my brother says "I was 25 before I shot a gun sober." Remember last year when my dad told us to shoot the gun inside the house, it was too cold to do it outside....
  
My father's latest "business cards" (some of you remember last year's... "Nothing, Inc." When you want nothing done, call a professional) say "Yep. I have a truck. If it'll fit in mine, it'll fit in yours. Go buy one." 
 
For the 3rd time in my life (all in WV), I had to step over an unconscious body to leave a bar. In CA, you get some drama at a bar, some smack-talking, maybe a shove, some puffed-out chests, it looks like a primitive mating ritual. But in WV! Somebody's unconscious & bleeding before I ever noticed that anyone got mad. I'm not condoning the fighting. I think they're morons. But if you're going to be a moron, might as well knock them out with one punch instead of running your mouth.

flashback

this is an excerpt from the 2005 red-neck newsletter xmas edition:

Things I see at my father's house that I've never seen anywhere else:
1. Every single spoon has gone through the disposal. Every single one.
2. Most of a 1949 Ford truck engine is in the sun room being stripped & cleaned on the carpet with chemicals so toxic I will probably be glowing upon my return to CA.
3. Things so far past their expiration date they could practically buy their own beer. I saw Ex-Lax in the bathroom that expired in 1991. My dad moved
in 2001 which means he actually brought it with him. Anyone remember from last year when I ate the feta cheese that was expired by about a year? I do attribute these things to why I have a gastrointestinal system stronger than cast iron. 
4. Dentures laying on the living room floor.
5. Car parts in the dishwasher.
6. Not a single piece of Tupperware-type storage stuff, when Cool-Whip & Philladelphia cream cheese containers from 1976 are still getting the job done.
7. Purple Power. This is an all-puprose cleaner, but my dad takes the term "all-purpose" to a new level. According to him it does a great job from stripping engine parts to removing ring-around-the-collar to cleaning the windows. Just be careful, it'll really burn your hands.

opening day

where do i start? i guess i'll do it the way i do everything. just jump straight in.
warning: this will read the way i talk. it will be random & a bit brash. you may come across the F-word from time to time. it will never be properly punctuated or capitalized. my grammar may be hurting. you might like what i have to say, but then again, you might not. if a blog had volume, you'd turn mine down. so, welcome to my attempt at blogging. what spurred this?


my close, old friends may remember the redneck newsletters i used to send out. i was told that it was kind of a blog before there was such a thing as a blog. i'll be honest though, i'm not sure i know what the definition of a blog is. i'm just doing this because i'm assuming i'll figure it out as i go along... which is pretty much how i run my whole life. so anyway, i have  a trip to wild, wonderful west virginia coming up which should give me fodder for another red-neck newsletter. that's why i thought maybe i'd start trying my hand at this. but if i'm going to bust this out blog-style (not old-school emails to people i selected) then i will probably have to change some names to protect the guilty.