Fruitless Chase Pt. 1

Made this eons ago with some childhood pals of mine. The quality is horrendus, the script was just barely above horrible and the acting was downright embarrassing.

Still, it was a ton of fun to make and that's all the excuse needed to unleash it upon the world...

...I'm so sorry.

You've Got Red On You...

Ta Daaaaaaaa!

Overall, I was amused with the final costume. If you'd asked me on Thursday, I wouldn't have been so sure with the lack of a cricket bat and all. Click the picture on the right to super size for frightful, closeup viewing action.

Alright, here's the breakdown:

First of all, pen ink takes an eternity to dry properly. I had squirted red ink all over the inside corner of the shirt pocket on... Thursday? ...and it still wasn't properly 100% dried by Saturday night. I learned rather quickly to not cross my arms over my shirt unless I wanted a sexy red blotch all over my arm.

The More You Know...
=============*
(woosh)

It wasn't the end of the world though. Since I deliberately decided to go out looking like I'd already smashed a few zombie heads in, blood and red nastiness was perfectly acceptable. Even took a little cosmetic blood and painted it on my face a bit.

The other oops was in regards to the hair colour. I opted for the cheap spray on fake colouring that washes out in the shower. It was sort of an orangish colour, which when combined with my natural hair colour gives it a slightly yellow/orangish look which is what I was hoping for. The problem was that that shit has a tendency to get on your shirt collar, so I looked like I had Cheetos for lunch and used the back inside of my shirt collar for a napkin.

I worked the colouring into my goatee as well, so I had to be mindful of eating/drinking and turning things like a cheesburger and many pint glasses of Shiner/Sierra Nevada orangish yellow. Fortunately, this turned out to be not a problem after all. Go team.

The nametag held up all night, I am proud to say, as did the bat. Hooray!

The evening opened with a stop at the Hula Hut on Lake Austin. They front the place as a mixture of Mexican food and Polynesian. Mexinesian, if you will. The food itself was not bad, if a little pricy. I had a Hawaiian style burger and a beer for starters.

I think the oddest part was that I was the only one there in a costume for starters. While I did have "normal" clothes in the car to change into, I decided against it because I didn't see the point. After all, it's not like I was having high tea with the Queen or anything, so I think whoever had a problem with my unorthodox dinnerwear could just get stuffed.

Eventually, a group of people showed up shortly thereafter dressed in costume (including a banana) so I was not alone. I caught the attention of the bartender who was rather amused that I dressed up as Shaun.

"Where's the cricket bat?" he asked.

"At the table," I replied.

"Dude, I have to see that," he grinned.

I walked back a few moments later and presented it. He replied with a free beer. How's that for awesome?

My colleagues and I headed down to 4th street with the good intentions of starting there and working our way to 6th. I rarely go down 6th anymore, especially not on Halloween weekend, but since I was with a herd, anything was possible.

Well, we didn't end up leaving 4th. We ended up in some bar called "Six", which was alright. The place has two floors inside and an outside bar on the roof for smoking convienence, so I didn't really care if we moved or not.

The strange part of the evening was that wherever we walked after the bar, I did not run into one zombie. Not one. Hell, I didn't even run into any other Shauns, but that was alright in my book. I felt a whole hell of a lot more original than the umpteen mob bosses, greek philosophers, pimps and the like.

I find it hard to believe that I was the only one, but still. No zombies though? Damnit was I robbed of a good photo opportunity or what?!?

Overall, it was an interesting evening. People either knew who Shaun was and were impressed or had no idea who the hell I was and shook their heads. Either way, I was most amused with some of the looks people were giving.

Going to wear it again tomorrow, but I think it'll be more low key of an evening. We shall see!

Time To Rock, Rock On! - Pt. 2

The big challenge was creating the cricket bat.

I started off by checking out how that guy (the one I mentioned in the previous post) did it. Some cardboard, a stake from a sign, contact paper and a whole mess of hot glue.

I considered the situation at hand before I realized that I actually already had a vital piece of the cricket bat puzzle. The t-ball bat!

I wrapped the handle with duct tape and somewhat followed the directions contained on the website. The t-ball bat actually gave a slight curve to deal with, so I used that to my advantage. Some cricket bats actually come with a bit of a curve on the back, so I fashioned the cardboard around like that so that the striking side was straight while the back had a bit of a bend to it.

I hot glued the snot out of the cardboard pieces and surprisingly, I had something that was vaguely cricket bat shaped. I let the sucker dry overnight before I wrapped the entire cardboard with "wood" contact paper.

Once that was done, I added a little more duct tape to the tip and handle edges of the bat to keep the contact paper neatly assembled.

Then, I grabbed the bottle of fake blood and applied to the "smacking side" of the bat. I set that to dry for a couple hours and this is the result (front, back, side and a preview action shot!):

Time To Rock, Rock On!

After much deliberation, I decided to choose Shaun for this year's Halloween costume. It was indeed a daunting task of sorts because while certain items such as fake blood, white collared shirt, black pants/shoes/belt and a red pen are easy to come by, certain things like the authentic red-striped tie, "Foree Electric" name badge and the gorram cricket bat, are not.

So far, I've actually done fairly well improvising.

Let's start with the basics:

White collared shirt - Check.
Black pants, shoes, belt and socks - Check.
Fake blood - Check.
Two Red Pens (one for display, one to break so that ink flows majestically in the shirt pocket) - Check.
Orangish fake hair colour (the kind that'll brush/wash out) for a light hair colour adjustment - Check.

So far, so good.

Now, the tie is fairly hard to come by in keeping with the exact style, however I found one that in my opinion is close enough for disco. I can dig it, yo.

For the nametag, I started scouring office supply stores for blank, red, hard plastic name badges. The kind that are real hard plastic, not the flimsy see through "nametag holder" or the plain "Hello, my Name Is" sticker variety.

No dice.

So, I executed Plan 01A:

Behold!

Some judicious DVD pausing here and a little photoshopping there and here is the result. One faux nametag, complete with the British spelling of "Adviser" instead of "Advisor." I'm actually pretty proud of that handiwork. Yaay, me.

I printed out a copy on a 4x5 label, then trimmed around the edge of the nametag. Afterwards, I sprayed the sucker with some photo protectant and let it dry.

Next, I peeled off the label and placed it on top of one of those flimsy see through nametag holders, the ones that allow you to pin the finished badge to your shirt. I positioned the label centered horizontally and vertically to just flush right below the top plastic strip so that I could bend the small plastic strip behind the badge so that I can attach a safety pin to my shirt without having it visible.

Once I had the label in place, I trimmed off the excess label and nametag holder (except for the top plastic strip) so that it was even all the way around. I then fed a flat sided safety pin through the plastic strip with the clasp facing outward. I next hot glued the rest of the strip in place so that the badge wouldn't bend unnaturally.

I'm going to let the nametag dry overnight. Actually, I made two of them in case there is a spillage of beer. The layer of photo protectant will help keep things clean in cases of the occasional drop, but it is far from being a miracle worker against a torrent of liquid.

With that done, I am now faced with a final dilemma: the cricket bat.

I tried to get an authentic bat, but since cricket is not very common here in the states, let alone in Tejas, I wasn't having a ton of luck. After surveying a ton of options, I came up empty-handed. Realizing a bit too late, I supposed that my last effort would have been to search e-bay, but getting one in time? Yeeeeeahhh, right.

So, I was a bit discouraged last night. I just went out and bought a gorram pansy-assed wooden t-ball bat (ever TRIED to find a man-sized wooden bat in friggin' October?) and prepared to just accept it.

Then...

I found this.

This fellow seemed to have it figured out. Cardboard, a stick, some contact paper, a shitload of hot glue and some gaffer's tape. The idea is brilliant.

I'm all about creating the homemade costume and I do believe I can go the distance and gin one of these up this evening, if all goes well. It'll be a daunting task, but I could use a challenge so we shall see how it goes!

Beyond that, I have to bloody up the shirt and squirt a handsome amount of red ink into the shirt pocket tonight. Possibly bloody the bad up a bit if I can manage.

Either way, tomorrow night should be enlightening and hopefully a picture or three will ensue!

On We Sweep With Threshing Oar...

It takes a certain level of bravado to attempt to float a river in a personal watercraft that is constructed of reinforced industrial grade rubber fashioned into a circular ring. The river holds many challenges and never are journeys down the river quite the same as the journey before.

There is something to be said about the river Faithful. Those lovers of the river who's love for idling a day away by chugging a few brews with their pals while floating down the cool waterway. They learned the secret long ago that the river is to be enjoyed, respected and at a decent flow rate between 300 to 700 Cubic Feet Per Second, lest they either be dragging their coccyx's over the rocks of a low level river bottom or being swept away in a fast moving water freight train.

This majestic mode of personal aquatic transportation usually requires patience, a pair of sturdy rowing arms and a willingness to enter into a unspoken social contract between themselves and the other members of his or her floating group. This contract usually is in regards to the levels of command, cargo manifests and transfer, fleet logistics and the defense of the group from dangers (which may include navigating others away from sticks, trees, rocks, rapids, wildlife and obnoxious fraternity brothers from the local college or university) and finally making sure they they have 'chipped in enough for the rent & shuttle service.'

To begin, let us examine the word "tubing" versus the non-word, "toobing."

Tubing vs. Toobing.

First of all, you are floating in an inner tube, not an inner 'toob.' I'm not sure if it was an attempt by the river outfitters to be cute or if they thought that spelling 't o o b' was close to spelling out 'b o o b' and since 'boobs' appeal to many males, a little innuendo to draw the frat boys out for a day of boobing, er, toobing? Hell, come to think about it...

Hmm...

Oh. Yes. Article.

Regardless of the reasoning, the proper form of "toobing" is actually "tubing."

"We're going tubing, Charlie, would you care to join us?" = Acceptable!

"Hey, Earl, we're gonna go toobin! Y'ant to?" = NO! Permission NOT granted!

Logistical Overview

Tubing is usually enjoyed with either a small cadre of friends or, if you're feeling really up to a logistical nightmare, a large herd of friends, their friends, their mom, their mom's friends and some bearded guy named Roy. You can also go in pairs if you prefer that intimate two against the river feeling.

The key thing to keep in mind whenever you go tubing is that you are accepting a key role, whether stated outwardly or not. Typically in any tubing adventure, you are in essence creating a small fleet of watercraft and it behooves you to realize this straightaway. A well-ordered fleet of tubes should function efficiently enough so that no one tuber is lost from the group (except in cases of arrest, which will be addressed under Jackassery a little later), no one is lost or damaged and that everyone is well stocked with their frosty beverage of choice. Almost automatically, everyone in a group is assigned certain tasks, whether they are aware of it or not. These roles can be combined or interchanged depending on circumstances, number of tubers, etc.

We start off with one leader, usually the most charismatic of the group although they can also be the person who has the most urgent time constraint upon them that requires an efficient float. They are the ones who usually are shouting "stop screwing off and hurry the hell up" or "paddle faster, damnit" in an attempt to keep the herd together and floating on time.

Depending on how much he or she has had to drink, they can almost sound like the stereotypical pirate captain, slurring their goads and encouragements together at will. The leader may be a friend of people in the group, but nobody really likes a pushy captain. Still, subconsciously, they follow along all the same.

Next up, and by far the most important job in any tubing fleet, are the cargo tenders. "Cargo" usually refers to the cooler full of drinks, a bag filled with snacks, suntan lotion, cigarettes or other needed items. Quite honestly, while the position of "cargo supervisor" (also known as 'beer bitch' or 'cooler jerk') is indeed an important one, the work itself is not in any way enviable.

Coolers are not exactly the easiest items to manage while sitting in a tube. The common solution is to attach a floating 'trailer' or cooler tube, where the cooler tube is just that; a cooler in a tube. While this obviously makes you the most popular guy or girl in the fleet (since everyone will come and see you eventually), it is easy as hell for the cooler tube to get stuck by passing trees, rocks, people, squirrels, whatever happens to be in the river.

Think about hauling a fifth wheel trailer over a flooded road and apply it to a smaller scale. That's you, Mr./Ms. Cargo Hauler.

Still, you should be grateful. For while you are stuck with hauling a cumbersome burden, at least you never go thirsty and especially be glad that you are not the next person that we shall discuss, the garbage scow.

The garbage scow belongs to the unfortunate person who has to tie the big potato sack to their tube and carry the fleet's garbage down the river. If you are not an uncultured barbarian who enjoys spoiling the rich beauty of the state's natural water resources, that is. The person in charge of the garbage scow is usually the more environmentally conscious member of the group who doesn't mind hauling the trash for 'recycling.'

The worst part of hauling the fleet garbage is that the bag acts as a bit of an anchor. As the cans collect in the bag, they fill with water and the bag will tend to snag more easily on passing objects or to slowly drag along the bottom. The easy solution to this is to crush the cans or to put the bag on your lap. Either way, be mindful of your load.

Our next group of people are usually the fleet tenders. They attempt to paddle others out of danger, pull tired, lazy or drunk tubers down the river when haste is required. This role is usually rotated between the group depending on personal fatigue or intoxication. They herd the group towards their goal while maintaining a certain flank speed and this usually goes on without notice.

Another job is that of the Chief Medical Officer, usually this is filled by whoever thought to bring the bug spray, band aids, Tylenol, sunscreen or whatever they thought would be needed "just in case." Medical is usually the over-prepared member of the fleet, but is well thought of when "just in case" actually happens.

By far the most thankless job is that of the Sergeant of Arms, the fleet's disciplinarian. The Sarge is usually a seasoned veteran of tubing trips and is well aware of the "river recreation" laws of the state, county and city that the section of river flows through. They know the laws regarding acceptable cooler sizes, where the police usually lurk to bust unsuspecting drunken arseholes and also what the penalty is for blasting one's radio louder than the engines of a 747 passing overhead.

They mean well, but are typically derided for being "party poopers." Usually someone in the Sarge position tries to keep the other members in line when things get way out of hand.

Now that we have an understanding of the fleet structure and individual role assignments, we shall spend some time in the next article discussing the general rules and regulations of tubing and how best to not be described as a jackass.

------To be continued!

Uniform Foxtrot India Bravo...

Hello, my name is 905 and I'm a TotalFarker.

After browsing Fark the other day, I learned that Fark's founder, Drew Curtis, was going to be in town to sign books and grab a few beers with any interested Austin area Farkers afterward.

Having nothing pressing to do, I headed down to the locally owned Bookpeople, which was hosting the book signing. I felt a bit of a fanboy at first. After all, I've been on Fark for four years now. Fark introduced me to a ton of happy Internet funtime goodness over the years.

Then, Drew simply walks in without any fanfare or real buildup. Just, "hey, how's it going?"

First off, he's hilarious. Hardly what you'd expect in an author or in someone who runs an "Internet Phenomenon" such as Fark. He told stories, answered every question under the sun and then, when he was finished, told all of us that we can all go out for beer at this bar down the street.

The poor picture (I need to fix my eyes, damnit...) is at the book signing. Drew signed my book, "Robert/905: UFIB! - Drew Curtis." I was a little slow on the uptake because I had thought at first, "Isn't that supposed to be UFIA (in reference to an oft used hilarious phrase on Fark which stands for 'Unsolicited Finger In the Anus')?" before realizing it stood for "Unsolicited Finger In The Book."

Ahhh, Drew, I see what you did there...

We all met for drinks, which was a shock for me since I'm not the social butterfly type usually. Going to go meet for drinks with a bunch of perfect strangers isn't usually indexed in my Operationial Guidelines.

Still, it was a hoot and/or holler. I had a chance to meet a bunch of Farkers/Farkettes who run the social spectrum between IT computing geniuses to ex-high-school-football-hero-selling-insurance guy. I also had a beer with Drew himself and we chatted about random Photoshop contests, Wil Wheaton and how the new Transformers movie is doomed to suck.

A quite worthy outing indeed!

One World Is Enough For All Of Us...

In a few hours, Bill will be on his way back to Texas.

We'll be working on a final update upon his return (actually when he's had a chance to decompress a bit), but I cannot express how much fun this project has been. If you haven't seen his latest update, I'd recommend checking it out before reading onward.

Don't worry, I'll enjoy a Dr. Pepper and wait for ya...

*sip*

*burp*

*Sluuuurrrrpppp!*

*brraaaaaaaaaap!*

Oh, you heard that. Sorry. Note to self: Drink Dr. Pepper without typing the experience.

Noted and logged.

Alright, the point I'd like to make is about how Bill has changed just over this past month. He made a comment to me last night about how the whole experience has really opened his eyes to a larger world.

He had really dreaded the possibility of going to Korea in previous years. A lot of that is probably because he worried about being away from his family for that long, but I think a tiny chunk of it was that he was perhaps a bit "skeeered" about leaving his comfort zone.

We went drinking the weekend before he left and I had asked him about how he felt about the trip. He told me that he didn't really know what to expect. After all, the guy had rarely left Texas, let alone crossed International Waters.

A month ago, he mostly worried about how safe things were over there, if he'd be able to fit in and if he'd be able to get out and explore without getting into trouble accidentally.

He mentioned to me the other day about how he just had never imagined having the experiences that he's had this past month. While we joke a lot about Bill being a "dumb redneck," he's not the stereotypical version that pops in most people's minds of a guy sitting on his ass all day wearing a John Deere hat and slapping his wife on the ass to fetch him a beer.

Truth is, Bill has way more of an open mind than he gets credit for. He's the kind of guy who's not afraid to go to a Bob Marley concert even though he sticks out like a sore thumb with his Dallas Cowboys shirt and cop-like haircut. He's interested in exploring the world around him, even if he rarely gets the opportunity.

He was talking last night about how this trip was completely not what he expected. He picked up some of the Korean language and basically just talks to anyone he can. He's made a lot of friends during his stay, not only with co-workers at the Korean side of the company he works for but also with people in the community that he's had a chance to meet and spend time with. While he mentioned that he never thought he could go to a different country and come back with a lot of new friendships under his Dallas Cowboys hat, somehow I always knew he could. He's just this friendly kind of guy, ya know?

I was pretty amused with some of the other pictures he shared because he literally pulled a few people off the street to take pictures with. He told me that he was just surprised as to how much people were happy to be in the pictures. "It was just as much fun for them as it was for me," he says.

Quite a difference when (during the Bob Marley festival, actually) we attempted to get Americans to be in our pictures. Most would look at us like we asked them for a weasel sandwich on toast. Just not the case in Seoul!

Anyway, for what it's worth, I'm glad he had the chance. It really inspires me to get off my ass and go exploring the world a bit. Which also means that I need to save money like a mad hatter, but still, at least the idea doesn't seem so far fetched as it has before...

Intermission IV: Redneck Outta Water...

For those who keep up with my site, Quality Television, you've likely read about my friend Bill's month-long trip to South Korea. He's been sent there by the company that he works for for a month of training. He's decided to have a little fun while he's out there and will be sending in updates to me for posting, which I will be doing here.

A little background on Bill:

He's a good friend of mine who has actually been in three other Fruitless Adventures, namely QTV's amusing visits to Austin's Bob Marley Festival and Zilker Park's annual Christmas Tree Lighting. He debuted on our site with the "Haunted House Adventure," where we toured an actual haunted house that was owned by his in-laws' family at one time.

So, he's not a novice to getting into mischief...

What he is a novice to is world travel AND flying. Yep, he's never been on a plane before and the first time he was, yep, this trip.

Bill's lived in Texas all his life, so this should be a lot of fun for him as he experiences life on the other side of the ocean. He's going to keep this adventure mostly informative (since he has to actually behave himself for a change), but he'll be updating with pictures and info as the month continues.

As an added bonus, Bill has asked me to post his e-mail address so that you can send in your questions and comments to him. He promises to answer all that he can (and perhaps have me post them, if we can work that out), so if you want to, drop him a line at: txhazmat00@yahoo.com He'll be over there until March 2nd.

His work schedule will keep him fairly busy, but he'll be going out to explore in his off time. From what I understand, he'll be touring Seoul, meeting people, doing some shopping, visiting the DMZ and more. It should be fun!

Intermission 2: Electric Boogaloo

Greetings!

It's been pretty serious moodwise on the ol' Blog lately, so I thought I'd take a moment to let everyone breathe! After all, there's a lot more to life than self-therapy. :)

First of all, I'm pushing the 'resume' button on the QTV website. While my colleague in crime may be leaving, I still love this site and I miss working on it.

The site will be presenting a new Fruitless Adventure, featuring my good friend Bill (who was in our Haunted House & Zilker Park adventures) and his month-long adventures in South Korea. Poor guy, he's never been on an airplane let alone left the country and starting next month, he's doing both!

It should hopefully be an amusing journey and he promises to send in updates as he is able. He's posted his e-mail addy on the adventure page, so feel free to spam, er, send him questions and comments as the adventure unfolds!

Bill and I plan on observing our annual tradition of seeing Spike & Mike's Sick and Twisted animation festival at the Drafthouse this evening, so it should be a ton o' fun before he leaves town.

In other news, I am currently eating a muffin from this bakery up the street. Oh. My. Chuck, this is a mighty fine baked good. Had I no plans of stuffing myself with beer and burgers at the Drafthouse tonight, I may have considered another.

Anyway, I'll pick the series up again, but for now I'm going to go run amuck in the beautiful 60+ degree weather that we seem to have been blessed with. Have a good weekend, everyone and thanks for reading!