The Worlds Shortest Blog EVER! (Except for the title)

Item not as described

A while ago, I saw someone making fun of the terrible things on the “free” section in Craigslist. It was brilliant! He put into words my very feelings every time I went to a garage sale, or a flea market, or a junkyard. 1) someone actually OWNED this? 2) YOU want ME to TAKE this? 3) have you thought about lighting this junk on fire?

It was a sad day when I realized that the person wasn’t actually doing it anymore… I decided that I NEEDED to carry on the torch… at least for one more blog… plus: I’ve always wanted to do something “mystery science theater” –esque. So, I’ve captured the real craigslist title…. The real craigslist description, (and the real pictures that some idiot posted, thinking that it would help him get rid of the junk he put up on CL) and then I leave my own “synopsis” of the entire thing. ENJOY

title: Free Chain Link Fence

Description:
"Chain link fence, 5' tall. Two sections 15' and 9'. Five posts, There are some vines in one of the sections that will need to be cut out. The posts were sunk in concrete. That will need to be knocked off. The fence is in good shape with little to no rust."

Synopsis:
To me this reads: "i'm trying to break into my neighbors house, but i am pretty lazy, and really dont want to have to jump over this little thing, PLUS, i am allergic to some of the shrubbery... it is quite annoying." Next, he'll probably try to give away the deadbolt on their front door. but the part i like best is how he describes how easy it'll be to deal with the concrete (probably weighing 150+ lbs... cemented into the ground). oh, just knock it off... it'll probably disintegrate when you sneeze on it. just get some tweezers to remove the huge lump of concrete which is anchoring a fence into the earth. and last but not least... the rust... doing all this work for your friendly neighborhood burglar PROBABLY wont give you tetanus. WHEN CAN I START?

Title:
Heywood Wakefield Woman's Vitage Vanity (Sunnyvale)

Description:
This Heywood Wakefield Vanity is a vintage piece. It needs to have the top refinished. The previous owner didn't like to use drink coasters. We never got around to finishing this piece and now do not have the room to house it. Refinished, it could sell for a few hundred dollars as a collector’s piece. Authentic Heywood Wakefield markings found throughout entire piece to claim authenticity.
Vanity mirror, glass top, and all drawers are intact.

Pick up at curb side now; 1220 Tasman Dr #282; Adobe Wells Mobile Home Community. If you cannot find us in the mobile home park there is a map at the flag pole by the main club house.

Synopsis:
lets start off with some of the perks about the description... i like how this person is REALLY trying to be a salesman on this, trying to make you believe how much money you can make on this... it's a collectors piece, after all... that adds social status too... that's gotta be worth SOMETHING (for most people)... it doesnt even have too many beer bottle stains, or cigarette burns on it!!! YAY! ... now get this thing out of my house

Can you just imagine what he is trying to cover up with the "Authentic Heywood Wakefield markings found throughout entire piece to claim authenticity" statement? what the HECK does that mean?
just picture him explaining it:
"do you see this little scratch? this is where he missed my abdomen with the knife, as i was trying to steal it from his house!"
"do you see this drawer glued shut? that was his last "artistic" touch before people came and took him to the loony bin"
"do you see that bright light ebbing from the mirror? that is actually a portal to a chintzy "narnia-esque" world... a place where people actually WANT the crap from craigslist"

Title: Funky Cool Filing Cabinet

(I actually couldn’t believe that this was the actual title… it’s like the “make fun of people” gods have sent down an amazing gift on CL)

Description: Works. Very distressed and cool. 42" high, 14" wide and 29" deep.

Synopsis:
Yes, it's true. someone actually chose to call this filing cabinet "funky cool". i am pretty sure the last thing that was actually funky cool was disco... and i hate to be the one to bring this fact out again... but disco is dead (and so is this filing cabinet).
well: if Ol' Greg had a file cabinet i guess this is what it would look like.
if the Crypt Keeper had a file cabinet.... this is probably what it would look like. The Egyptians also thought it was pretty funky cool, but… they too are dead.
I dub this filing cabinet: filing cabinet from hell. But unfortunately, I dont think that "distressed" is accurate enough. Maybe something more along the lines of: "tormented" or "disturbed". It really belongs in a demon possessed house, or in the movie "poltergeist".

Unless you are going for that "make you fear for you soul" look in your office…
"in the top drawer, we keep all the cursed artifacts. in the middle cabinet, we keep the doorway to hell, and in the bottom drawer... well, we dont like to talk about the bottom drawer, we lost Billy to that one last year.

Title: "Ugly Sofabed! (sunnyvale)"

... ya, maybe not starting off on the BEST foot

CL post description:
"Free tan/orange/brown sofabed/couch. Used, but in fine condition-- no tears or holes, just some fraying near the bottom (previous owner may have had a cat). One arm is missing the wood that goes on top, but it is completely usable. Mattress is bent oddly, but fine. HEAVY! Currently in a storage unit on the 3rd floor (elevator and wheeled carts available). You must be able to move it from the unit to your vehicle-- you'll need at least 2 people.
Sorry, no pictures without the black blanket (not included in sale, we just had it there because we thought it was ugly). Couch is the same color on cushions and back as the color visible near the bottom of the pictures"

Synopsis:

I dont know about you, but was actually laughing while reading this post... and I hadnt even thought of anything to write. It just seemed to get better and better (or: worse and worse, if you think about the poor soul that is actually going to end up with this abomination). "missing the wood that goes on top"? we are just going to assume that they arent talking about the wooden frame that makes up the sofa, because "no tears or holes". I just kinda have this inkling that whoever owns this couch has been using couches COMPLETELY wrong their entire lives. "hold on one sec, before you sit down, let me fluff up the pillows... get the footrest ready... put the wooden boards on top of the couch... wait WAIT! where the heck are the wooden boards!?!?!?! OMG... i'm so embarrassed! you dont mind that i cant find the BOARDS, do you!?!?!?!" (yes, this type of person would say the letters oh em gee instead of the words). just dont stay the night at this person's house... because the bed of broken glass probably isnt all its cracked up to be.

"Mattress is bent oddly". calling a sofabed a torture rack is being kind to sofabeds. now picture a potato chip shaped matress on said torture rack... the only other info you need is that the safeword is "pineapple". I mean: if i really dont like someone, i offer for them to sleep on my sofabed. I'm talking like: they kinda ran over my dog... and by "kinda" i mean "repeatedly" and by "dog" i mean "brother" those people can sleep on my sofa bed for a couple nights so they can really understand the comforts of places like prisons. adding a diabolical mattress to the equation just launched this picture into a whole dimension of evil that my imagination just isnt ready for.

"heavy" I have moved these things before... i'm pretty sure God looked down and said "you shall be at LEAST 200 times heavier than you look"... and it looked like it was made of lead. This SAINT who is giving it away is kind enough to put it on the third floor. i would recommend kicking it out of the window, but then you would have to pull it out of the crater it'd make in the parking lot. I KNOW that elevators have a weight limit, and if they cant lift a neutron star in them... this couch is definitely not going to make the cut. the only option left is the stairs, where you make the friend you like least be on the lower end as you try to carry it down. his body will act as a surprisingly good toboggan... Note: you may need to bring more than one friend because the couch is on the third story.

And this is the part that i realize how maniacal this "giver of free couch really is" ... "sorry... black blanket not included in sale". Well: those were sweet pictures, but the entire purpose of them was just defeated... i once again really dont have any specific idea of what i'm buying (i already knew what a couch looked like). You may like what you see... but none of that is included. not even that person who seems to be still looking for the piece of wood to put on top. speaking of which... that person seriously perplexes me... what the HECK is she (probably?) doing? not only is she a human blur, but ... wtf, mate? how was this picture TAKEN?!?!?! "honey... it's time to take those pictures to sell the couch... while you are running..." i'm going to take a crack at it...
pose 1) the textbook picture of the "evolution of man" very artsy... although the political advisers are going to frown on this, because this may end up losing a lot of "sofa takers" in the red south
pose 2) how you are going to feel in the morning after sleeping on that thing
pose 3) looking for the piece of wood that every owner will OBVIOUSLY be looking for

my advice: let no one sit on the evil couch so that it may starve to death with the lack of human blood. it was willing to eat the cat that clawed it, but that was a rare exception and probably wont happen again.

A guide to dating… the nerd way… or the “will” way… I don’t know if even nerds want credit in this

Well, it’s that time of year when all the kids are going back to school, and all us working folk are still depressed. Well: I gotta admit, it's getting better for us working folk, because now we dont have to be pissed at all the students for being on their summer vacations. (can i get an "amen"?).

well: that was a useless intro. it has nothing to do with dating. i just want everyone to know how bitter i am that i dont get summer vacations.

Now: on to business. Dating. everyone does it, but for some reason... the majority of people in the world rarely escape a catastrophic moment of dating goodness. The best way for me to describe it is something like: John ran to Jamie through the field of dasies like a train leaving from clevland at 75 miles per hour while Jamie left from Chicago at... you get the picture (probably). The moral of the story is that two trains are headed for eachother... and good dates happen when the trains dont leave a smoldering ruin of body parts everywhere.

Ive compiled a short list of "do's" and "donts" to help with the wreckage (and to keep the body count to a minimum). Unfortunately, a majority of these have come from personal train wreck experiences. Well: i'll be honest... perhaps it was more like: near social meltdowns, or those creepy stories that people start telling when they are trying to explain how they became a recluse.

1) remember the persons name. yeah: i'm starting at the basics... but trust me: things start to get a little awkward when you are trying to introduce your date to your roommate. "Dan! So glad you are home! I'd like you to meet... umm..." and after that, it doesnt matter if you cant remember for 3 minutes, or 3 seconds... you have just torn a hole in the date-relationship continuum, and the effects can be immediately felt by all. It is normal to expect your mom to call, and start asking you what kind of son (or daughter, i guess) she raised that you would forget the name of your date. (side note: no emotional scars were developed in the making of this blog… probably)

2) dont ever under ANY circumstances guess their age. This question is merely a trap, because there is absolutely no right answer to this question. Let's just say there is this girl who asks some guy she is on a date with (you have probably never met this guy... a guy who probably never writes blogs... but he sounds pretty awesome, right?), anyways, she asks him: "how old do you think i am?" when someone asks you this question, hit the eject button which sends your cockpit seat flying through the air, away from the plane which is about to blow up. If you answer this question guessing too young, you are obviously insulting their intelligence and maturity (you might have well said that they were 4.5 years old). if you guess too old... you will probably receive a look similar to that of a puppy after you tell it that dogs age 7 times faster than people. that panging feeling in your chest? that's guilt... because the other person is making you trip on it. the only way to make it out of that situation unscathed, is to guess the persons age... EXACTLY... year, month, date, and time of birth. and if you could do that... you might as well be a carnie... because if you CAN do that, you should be getting paid for it.

3) It's the simple little things that count. I know how much we all want to brag about awesome huge things that we have done, like doing over 1000 push ups... or climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, (lets see: what is the girl version of something awesomely huge... in an effort to keep this "reader-friendly" for all. ummm how about... something mushy like being able to watch "the Notebook" while going on an all day shopping spree) But as much as we want to try and duplicate those hollywood movie moments, (you know, where the dove flies down and drops a ring in a champagne glass while a guy is pouring it, as fireworks are going off in the background... in a sweet spaceship (sorry girls... i have to keep the guys entertained too). as much as we try to duplicate those moments, it is the little things, like getting a girl a flower, when she isnt expecting it, even though nothing special is going on, or a girl kissing a guy on the cheek (PG13 blog here) for no good reason, other than to kiss him on the cheek. It's the little things that leave the big impressions, and tell you what kind of person someone really is.

4) never show them any lists/blogs that you make about dating people. i actually havent done this one... but do me a favor, and keep this on the down low... especially if i'm dating anyone at the time. the consequences could be dire (for BOTH of us)... i mean: i watch Kung-Fu movies... i know how to do three back flips and kick someone at the same time. Aaaaaaaannnnd: i just threatened my audience, and empowered them with a bargaining chip over me... awesome.

5) Down with that stupid rule "wait for 6 days to call someone". what a load of crap! If you actually like someone, give them a call! if you actually want to make someone’s therapist work REALLY hard for a living: wait a couple days to call them. just do the person a favor, and give them some aspirin and a hammer for the headache you have been giving them while you were waiting. To the person who was waiting... it's a bit more like a root canal (except the dentist actually TRIES to have a deep conversation with you, for some reason, when he is elbow deep in your mouth, which is a bit more bedside manner than the head-games person). life is short... and even then, it is filled with enough bad dates, so why waste it on someone who you dont actually want to call for another week?

6) girls + video games = explosions. it's like a solar flare, or why the sky is blue, or why 2+2=4... it just is. a couple people know the reason... but i think the government locked them up and is using them to make whatever is worse than a nuclear bomb...(the people who are REALLY reigning havoc down on the world... like the inventor of TWITTER). but mark my words: do not mix those two. if, by some fortuitous event of fate brings a guy to a girl who doesnt explode when the word "video-game" is brought up into ordinary conversation, here is my advice to the guy "skip this whole stupid dating thing... just marry her... you have found the ONE" (elope tomorrow if she likes shooting guns)... but skip town if this video game/gun woman starts stalking you or getting any postal tendencies... you may also have to change your name/social security number...

7) dont give them your social security number. the last sentence in 6 made me think of this one. i know they are probably SUPER good looking, and it just feels like the right thing to do... but fight the urge... because you are wrong. it is the NOT-right thing to do.

8) Tattoos of people/names. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m gonna go ahead and “tattooing a date’s name” on yourself a bad move… extra bonus crazy points if you get a picture of the person too

9) Keep the phone messages short and sweet. Really. I know that there is so much to say… I know that if you mess up your phone conversation, you are going to be tempted to explain it, and then explain what you REALLY meant to say, but it’s like loosing your keys in a pool of molten lava: you have to let them go, because man… they are gone. A bad phone message says “hi: I’m a psychopath” and gives the hint of “come into my van… I have candy (but its not even good candy… it’s like those crappy peanut butter taffy’s at Halloween)” all at the same time.

10) Confidence goes a long way. You’ll be surprised at what you can actually get away with if you are just confident in your delivery. It’s a strange phenomenon which can right a ridiculous amount of wrongs. This tool is especially useful at those times when you put your foot in your mouth, or do something impressively stupid. Two OBVIOUSLY hypothetical situations come to mind about a “pretend” guy named… ummm… “Billiam”

a) Billiam is on a sweet date, taking a girl to the local arcade, where they can listen to the jukebox all night long. He tells her “so, tell me what Hawaii is like” she says, slightly concerned “Wait… how did you know I went to Hawaii?!?!?!” ok, this is decision time… Billiam knows she went to Hawaii, because about 5 min. after he met this girl, he facebook stalked her… the same exact thing that 95% of the population would do, given a name, and too much free time. The other 5% is Amish. The only way to recover from something like this is for him to call her Amish (trust me, not a good option), or to explain “I looked you up on the BOOK” in the same way you would say: “umm: YA… I did my laundry the other day” with a slight attitude of “oh, you DIDN’T do your laundry?”.

b) Billiam sees a pretty girl that he knows on campus as he is riding his bicycle. As he is waving to her he crashes his bicycle in the middle of a busy school intersection. I mean: think of the “Waynes World” girl who had to wear a neck brace after smashing into the parked car. Fearing that Billiam has ACTUALLY died, due to the horrific nature of his spill… she runs over to the poor soul who is actually stuck in his own bicycle. “oh, hey tiffany… I thought we could have a more down to earth conversation over here… right on the pavement”. Later that night: I got cookies from tiffany… and yes: they were incredible (granted, everything is incredible after you are forcing yourself to “run from the light at the end of the tunnel”). Wait: I mean: HYPOTHETICALLY they were amazing cookies… for the sake of the story of course.

Well, now that I’ve fueled my friends with enough ammunition to blast me for the next year… I’m going to stop. In the end, my biggest opinion is that actually being with the right person makes up for all those train wreck experiences, and you may have to kiss a few toads to find your prince(ess). And I’ll never give someone a hard time for at least trying to try their hand at dating, because at least they are giving it a shot. So: if you too have any awesome (awesomely brutal) dating stories, let me know!

O yeah: one more… always end your messages/emails with “love” instead of “sincerely”. Sincerely says: “after you sign these liability forms, we can start dating”. Love says: “yeah, I maybe crazy, but at least It’ll be exciting! I might even buy you some bling”

Love,

Will

Ps. Yes, this means I’m trying to date you (and I only put in that last paragraph so I could write THIS for an ending, instead of that crappy conclusion I had up there J )

yet another watch story

So: the other day, my watch killed itself. And by "killed itself", i mean "i murdered it".
I cant even blame it on "an accident" either. it's got scars. it looks like it went through that show "will it blend?" you know: the show where they threw a sherman tank into a blender, and turned it into a liquid?

I was playing foosball, and was taking off my watch... it slipped out of my hand: and the second hand fell off (that was a first for me... you can see how the second hand got lodged in between a bunch of other moving parts in the picture i hope i attached). So I find out that the watch company is pretty good about fixing things. This knowledge causes me to 1) box up the watch and send it back 2) send a small photo album of all the adventures i have taken this watch on and 3) send a letter: attached below

Dear Reactor Watches,

I’m not going to put this lightly… I am the kiss of death to watches. I mean: if there was an “angel of doom” for the watch community, I would be him. And in all honesty, being the “watch apocalypse” isn’t really descriptive enough either… not only do watches meet their gruesome demise with me, but they leave this world in SPECTACULAR fashion. From a watches point of view, being latched onto my wrist is pretty much a death sentence. There is probably even some horror stories that they tell around the campfire about that one watch that was fated to be worn by me.

And it’s not without merit that watches try to avoid me like the plague (perhaps not a good enough metaphor… seeing how the watch plague ended in 68). Watches avoid me like a person should avoid a skunk. Watches avoid me like a French guy avoids work. Like you would avoid a stapler after you accidentally stapled your tongue to the wall. Often I find that watches will just run away when I take them off, or commit suicide by falling from the kitchen counter that I put them on right into the garbage disposal.

Here are some of the terrible things that my ex-watches have had to go through.

4 watches ago, I was bouldering down a canyon of rocks as I was hiking along a river, and when I lost my footing and had to catch myself from sliding into the river, the Swiss army watch was impaled with a rock (all the way through the glass and even into the minute/hour hands). The poor little guy didn’t even stand a chance. I was expecting more out of a military watch… I was just assuming it’s basic training wouldave held up better to the pleasant California environment.

2 watches ago, my watch tried to commit Hari-Kari and tried to hang itself by getting its crown wrapped up in a piece of loose cloth on the laundry bag as I was washing dirty clothes. It DID manage to decapitate itself, but I managed to Dr. Frankenstein the depressed little watch together. Later, I found that it drowned itself in the shower that night. This wasn’t exactly the warrior’s way out… but the thing did have some intense (intensely depressing) determination.

3 watches ago, (and REALLY, I did not make this story up…) my watch died via high-five. Yeah… that really happened. So, I may have had a cup of coffee a little too late in the day… perhaps I was pretty amped that I had won my first game of “mafia” ever… maybe I should have put a little less shoulder in the high five to my friend. But the high-five is what it took to kill the watch. Once my hand collided with my buddies… that’s all she wrote. I just remember seeing bits of metal flying about as the band broke, and watched in slow motion as the little silver pieces of watch hit all my friends which I had just dominated in Mafia. I still cant decide whether to be excited that I actually have a story like that, or pissed that I lost a borderline expensive watch.

Then my Aunt got me a Reactor watch. I have always had the most problems with the pins that connect the band to the body of the watch, and saw that some GENIUS had the idea to BOLT the band to the watch. I came to the realization that those “band” problems were now a thing of the past. (I also realized that if the bolts DID, in fact, break that I would probably have other things to be worried about… like a severed arm, or dismemberment, and other things that really make a broken watch not seem too bad in comparison).

Unfortunately, nothing lives forever… not even watches with bolts on them. In the end: it wasn’t working in a machine shop that killed it. It wasn’t the time I realized that I was working next to a high powered magnet which was cooking the brains of my watch (and not letting the second hand turn at all). It wasn’t the impromptu climbing session in Yosemite (when I realized halfway up the granite wall that I still had my watch on). It wasn’t the time I went surfing, fell, hit the reef, and came up to the surface to find my board broken in half. It wasn’t the time I went spelunking (because OBVIOUSLY everyone needs to know what time it is when you are a mile under the earth). It is when it fell as I was taking it off (my foosball skills dramatically increase without a watch on), and the second hand fell off.

In all honesty: I love your guys’ watches. I’ve gotten compliments from beautiful women about the exquisite style. I’ve gotten the thumbs up from fellow men for the rugged feel of it followed by a brief, and slightly unintelligible grunt. It became much more rugged looking after our experience of laying down the motorcycle in gravel. And I’m sending it back to you as proof that all this happened (probably pretty evident from some of it’s battle scars).

So, Reactor: is there anything to be done? Your watch has by FAR lived through the most torture of any watch yet. Do you make a watch that will outlive me? (if so: I’ll take one…) I’ll even leave it back to you guys in my will. (This is me trying to get a free watch from the company)

Thanks,

William McDonald

Here is hoping for a new watch!!!

Kicking off this whole blogging thing

Ok: I'm now blogging, because eveyone else is doing it. Yes: peer pressure works on me. For example: "if everyone was jumping off a bridge, would I do it?" the answer is Yes... I dont want to be the last person on earth! Then I'd just be a creepy/crazy guy like Will Smith in "I am legend" or tom hanks in "cast away" (hmmm: I wonder what I'd look like with a gut, like tom had in that movie).

so: let's just dig into the random stuff about me:

i now have a motorcycle: and now i am totally the stereotype guy who only thinks about motorcycles (i'd probably be concerned if i wasnt so excited). i usually just watch from 3rd person as my life flashes in front of me, but i am pretty sure that this is one of those "big" moments. i have turned a new page in my life; unfortunately, this page is filled with the possibility of being mauled by a motorcycle.

i want to be just like calvin from "calvin and hobbes" (a six year old with a foudroyant vocabulary)

for some reason, i am too lazy to worry about capitalization/punctuation when i write.
i consider myself a grammatical rebel (... which is a nice "denial" term for "i suck at grammar"). i dont think that ellipses (...) and commas (,) get enough respect... so i throw them in my sentences, often unnecessarily, ...,.

i enjoy the conversations i have with completely random people: you get to be incredibly honest because you most likely will never see them again (which is kinda liberating actually: you get to say wierd stuff and not feel too bad about it).

i'll brag about being a nerd (nerd is the new cool).
i'll deny that i'm in denial
it's not that i dont "club"... it's that clubs dont "Will"
I am the least competitive person in the world (a title i fought hard to win)

i want to be like my grandpa: he is 91, still hunts duck, walks 2 miles every other day, dominates me at dominoes (athankyou), and is one of the funniest guys i know.

if money was not an issue, i would live on a houseboat and read books all day long.
i am a sucker for motorcycles, and anything made of steel (muscle cars...swords...you get the picture)
i have decided that money can't buy happiness, but it sure can rent it for a while.

apparently i am good at rambling on about random stuff (as demonstrated in my first blog post congrats if you actually cared enough to read this much about me... lets be friends)

BAM! take that! blog post number one down!