Tres Bizarre

The Trip - Part 3 (The Bar)

2008-10-09T12:54:00.004-05:00

One of the most integral parts of attending BOW is going to the Bar in Halsey, NE. The owners, Leeotron and Retatron have owned it for 36 years, and over that time, they have collected every type of bar trick and joke known to man -- though I'd like to believe I added to their repertoire during my recent visit.

From my previous visit, I learned not to trust much of what Lee places in front of me, so I was quite leery to touch this thingy-ma-jig. R-Botron was braver than I was and she started twirling it like crazy.

Sure enough:

Since it's kind of dark, I'll just tell you -- it's a bullshit grinder. I could've handled that. I thought something was going to spring out and slap me or deliver a mild electric shock or something.

This little cutie is made out of beer cans, as you can plainly see, however, there is more to his make-up than meets the eye.

He also has one part made of wood (ifyouknowwhatImeanwinkwinkwinkwink.)

This leetle devil will pee right into your glass if you let him.

This is an ill-lit group photo with R-bo, Leeotron, Crystaltron (our other roomate) and big-ol' fat shiny head me taken by a real live fire man who lived in the 4-H camp! Hi real live fire dude if you're tuning in!

Could my face be any greasier or bigger?

Tasteful bar wallpaper. Classic.

I can't pass a mirror without acting afool.

This little feller apparently brought back some fond childhood memories for Crystaltron. Hahaha.

These came out of the mystery sticker dispenser. They only cost 25 cents! BARGAIN!

This was one of the few jokes I didn't quite get. If anyone would care to explain it to me, contact me at morgetron@gmail.com. Leeotron called it a boot saver ?????????? He thought is was very funny!

That's Retatron in the background. Isn't she a cutie patootie!

Retatron controlled the volume of the juke box with a variety of tools ranging from a cane, to a flashlight, to the little beer can man's penis. Hahaha. Just kidding about that last one.

I tried to find out why this deer has a Hitler mustache but no one would give me a straight answer.

I made this sign for Leeotron. I wonder if it's still there. It was the next day. I think I'm going to send him a nicer one.

This was me at the end of the night.

Actually, I wish it was because the last time I was here things got ca-ray-zay, but this trip was much milder. Being shoved through a ceiling would've kicked it up a notch.

We tried to get the party started with the juke box which had a surprisingly nice selection of songs, but it only worked when it felt like working, so like little lab rats who wanted a treat, we kept feeding money into that damned thing and only got like three songs outta the whole deal.

I have a feeling some of my readers have these. Missy? Sage?

I told Leeotron and Retatron the following jokes:

Why Carlos is the saddest man in Mexico
Two Southern Bells
My two favey knock-knocks
and it seems like there's one more but I can't think of it.

The next night Crystaltron went back to the bar and she said they kept asking, "Where's the redhead." She told them, "She's tired," which was the God's honest trooof.

Awwwww.

To be continued.

PS: Leeotron and Retatron have eight children, seven of which are boys! WOWZERS!

The Trip - Part 2

2008-10-08T13:07:00.011-05:00

In case you are wondering what the H-E-double-hockey-sticks I was doing taking two thirds of a week off work to trek to Halsey, NE, I was attending BOW.

BOW... Becoming and Outdoors Woman. This is a program designed for women to learn outdoor activities without the usual pressure of a familiar man breathing down their necks. Fathers, brothers, husbands, are all wonderful people in most situations, but many times, not as teachers. So, they bring in other experienced men and women to teach women about archery, shotgunning, turkey hunting, deer hunting, fishing, canoeing, orienteering, etc.
----

Even though our alarm went off at 5:45, we didn't shove off from Gramp's house until 7:30 AM and headed into Burwell for breakfast. Gramps was still sleeping when we left though we poked our heads into his bedroom long enough for me to say "Love yah Gramps!" and for him to assign R-bo another errand.

We sat outside the dentist's office so I could check my classroom using their wifi. We also ate next to the former Burwell Sanitarium, which, much to my disappointment, was not a mental institution, but rather, a plain old boring hospital.

We ate a Verda's. It was delish. We sat next to a couple from Burwell and the man knew every distance from here to there, and every bar in a 100 mile radius of Burwell.

As you know, I am easily amused, and I did find this sign charmingly witty, particularly due to the author's use of "don't".

The single item I forgot to bring to B.O.W. is a hat, so I purchased this little gem at a gas station that was very near Halsey. It has a built-on bottle-opener in the bill. Be jealous. Be very very jealous.

We arrived at the 4-H camp around 10:30. We claimed two beds in the Cottonwood Cabin. Mine the middle one, the one to the right is R-bo's. The one to the left was our roommate, Shannatron's. She was a ball of energy and very sweet. We totally lucked out in the roommate department. I very stupidly did not get a pic of Shannotron. Shannatron, if you're reading this, will you send me a pic from the weekend?

I set up shop right away. Good thing I brought a big-ass stack of books. They were nice and heavy and didn't get used once.

Me in a cabin, quaint.

Here I am gearing up for the shit your pants line. It's this rope that they strung up from a little deck and ran down to the bottom of a big-assed hill. Then you're supposed to jump off the deck and just fly down, hoping the rope doesn't break. A man at the bottom yells, "Feet down! Feet down!" He has to say it twice because when you are in the air, shitting your pants, you don't listen to people's instructions right away.

This actually could be really erotic, if you think about it. Tie me up, tie me down baby.

You can't hear this on the video, but at the end of my ride, the guy who was waiting at the bottom said, "What a hoot." I've never heard anyone use that phrase seriously before, but he was serious. He thought me carrying a camera down the hill was a hoot. Come to think of it, I think it's a hoot too. Then he told me that he was not "getting fresh" -- that he just had to help me unbuckle my "chastity belt." I told him I prefered to think of it as a diaper. He didn't like that as much as "chastity belt". I think he was trying out one-liners on me because the other people that came down after me did not get any of those fun phrases from him.

I took a class on Friday called "Map and Compass" which is a class where we learned how to use maps, then compasses, then both of them together. I met a lady named Eilenotron in this class, who turned out to be one sweet chick. We spend mucho grande time together on Sat. More on that later.

The class was taught by a wildlife biologist and a land surveyor and they were both amazingly patient teachers. Maybe this type of thing comes easy to most people, but for ol' Morgetron mapping and compassing are not easy concepts, but these two teachers broke through the confusion for me. Good thing because on Saturday, I actually had to put these skills to use.

No joke.

The people who sat at the table with us thought we were so weird for taking so many pics of each other.

Hello double-chin shine face.

I always forget that I have my prescription sunglasses on inside. I think people think I'm trying to be "cool" which I am. "Trying" is the operative verb.

Holy moley!

This was dinner. We did not go hungry. After R-bo took this pic the lady sitting to our right said, "I'm sure there was a good reason for you to take a picture of your dinner" as if people don't normally do that. You guys do it, right?

To be continued.

Morgetron For President

2008-10-08T12:25:00.002-05:00

Help make this grassroots operation a success.

VOTE FOR THE SILLY ROBOTS PARTY.

The Trip - Part 1

2008-10-07T14:06:00.006-05:00

So I went on an adventure. It started out Thursday night. I met R-botron at her house and we made our way to Elkhorn, NE to run some errands. R-bo realized she left her booooots at home and had to turn around and go back. I waited at Scooters in Elkhorn and she drives like a maniac, so I didn't have to wait very long. We headed to one of my grandpa's houses to drop some stuff off and then we left for our destination: Burwell, NE, Calamus Country. My grandpa has another house (actually a trailer on a foundation) there and that's where we stayed. The reason we were going to Burwell was to drop off my grandpa's car and it was sort of on the way to our final destination, Nebraska National Forest, near Halsey, NE.

This is my grandpa's cookie jar. When you open it, it howls, and it is not full of cookies, like you'd expect. It's actually filled with dog biscuits.

This is the hallway in the trailer. The door that R-bo is standing next to is the door where long ago, my grandpa was screwing something into the side of the trailer. He had me stand there and help him with something -- I don't remember what. What I remember most was the nails. He had like 15 nails in his mouth. The door kept flapping open, so I thought I'd be helpful and close it. What I didn't realize was that my grandpa's fingers were in the hinge. He couldn't tell me either, because his mouth was full of nails. Even though it was really hard to close (since there was a hand in it) I kept trying, over and over, and grandpa just kicked his one leg and grunted through the nails. It took a moment for it to register in my brain why he was doing that, and then I let go of the door. I felt guilty for the rest of the trip, but now it's just a lovely wonderful fond memory that I like to retell at family gatherings. Grandpa has blocked it from his memory and claims it never happened.

My grandma and grandpa used to be married. They aren't anymore. Prior to their divorce, the cabin, (which is what we called the trailer, nice little euphemism, eh?), it was always in good working order, and rather tidy. It had a certain garage sale charm. Many of the things that were there previously are still there, and there have been some additions. This is one of the additions:

This is me after driving for three and a half hours:

I made this when I was eight. For some reason I found it touching that it was still hanging on the wall. It made me feel like my grandpa cherished it since I made it, but I subsequently realized that he has no idea who made this. For all he knows, Cloris Leachman made it. In fact, now that I think about it, Cloris Leachman might have made it, and I may have tried to pass it off as my own. The memories are hazy.

This is the man den.

I was going to sleep in "the back bedroom" as we call it. When I opened the door, I immediately sensed a problem. My ears told me that there was some type of buzzing from this room. I flipped the lights on, and noticed that the bed was covered in a bunched up set of sheets and about fifteen fly carcasses. There were also fly carcasses all over the floor. I used the sheets to throw the fly bodies on the floor. I called R-bo and told her that I needed new sheets. I made the bed, and hopped in, and then became more aware of the buzzing. There were about ten flies flying around. I told myself to be tough and just go to sleep, but then they started dive-bombing my head. At that point I got up, and went out to the garage and slept in grandpa's motor home.

This is the whiskey collection.

This is my grandpa's neighbor. Notice that the windows have plywood in them? That would indicate that no one lives there, right? WRONG! Someone lives there. Yeah. Seriously.
To be continued. This does get better folks.

Guess Where I'm Going?

2008-10-02T18:38:00.003-05:00

(You'll never guess so stop trying. I'll tell you when I get back so you don 't try to follow me.)

Hint: It involves water transport and compasses.

Quit trying to guess! You don't know unless I already told you, which only applies to a small contingent of my readership.

I will bring you some souvenirs.

PS: Thanks to PINK, I now have a good comeback for any insult thrown my way. Can you guess what it is? If you can, throw it in the comments and I might actually physically send you a souvenir instead of just posting pictures of them. I might. Whoever is first will have the best chance of it.

Iloveyoulikemydoglovessnatchingfoodfromchildren'shands.

The Godfaddah and Moi

2008-10-02T18:35:00.002-05:00

These are from the pre-red days ... obviously.

This is from Bri-otron's art auction/raffle. Where are you Bri? I miss you. You need a phone.

A Draaaawwwring

2008-10-01T10:42:00.000-05:00

Pop! Goes My Heart

2008-09-24T13:32:00.005-05:00

Hello. I'm popping in because I think you should know some things, and the things are:

1. What has changed?

2. Mailings are going out after payday.

3. This is what is looks like when I stick a Buddha on my nose.

4. This is what it looks like when I stick a camera lens on my eye.

5. I made this.

6. This is a bagel bag full of priceless jewels.

7. I have blue nails.

8. This pillow may have come in contact with Jack Nicholson. It is from the set of About Schmidt. You are jealous that I own this.

9. Let this be a warning to you.

10. I miss you.

Iloveyoulikedogslovepeoplefood.

Mini-Morgy-Update

2008-09-04T23:00:00.005-05:00

Hi.

I just am popping in briefly to give you an update on my life since I know many of you are lost without my witty anecdotes and sage guidance. And those of you who aren't lost are, in fact, bored out of your gourds. So, this is my little gift to you, WORLD: a little slice of silly for all to print out, laminate, and archive.

In Six-O-Matic news, Hubbetron took Sixer out to MIL and FIL's acreage to hike and hang, while I was working and slaving at my intense and very mysterious, extra muy importante loco job, and they went on a toad-gathering expedition. Sixer collected around eight toads, and placed them all in a bucket. As she carried her jumbo bucket o' toads up to the house, she, with a sly smile on her face, turned to Hubbo and asked, "Can toads be gay?"

We know not from where this question came.

In Thirteen-O-Matic news -- she is the secretary of her branch of Junior National Honor Society. She also is continuing her French horn studies, volleyball, and glassblowing. Ummm ... we think she might be a result of an alien abduction that occurred a little over thirteen years ago. Who was abducted? you are inevitably asking ... That would be me.

In Hubbetron news, as he put his uniform yesterday, in preparation for work, Hubbo told me that he was going to become a stripper and that his stage name was going to be "Cherry Chapstick."

I wished him well in this endeavor and will welcome the supplemental income.

In book news, AKA straight-up Morgetron news, I have written exactly two pages of my book.

They are damn fine pages though.

Oh, and I'm helping my friend with THIS. (Click it fools!)

Miss you. Iloveyoulikeapersonwithasorethroatlovessuckingonice.

PS: I am still on my extended hiatus. Don't ask me what I'm doing here, considering the aforementioned fact.

Extended Blogging Hiatus

2008-08-26T21:57:00.002-05:00

I am extending my hiatus. I've got a book to write. Please stay in touch if you want to: morgetron@gmail.com.

Love you lots.

I'll be back ... I just don't know when.

PS: If I owe you a package I promise, you are on my to-do list. This includes judges, prizewinners, and people I have generally promised crap to. This includes Mr. T. who has been waiting for over a year for a promised 8 X 10 glossy of my wearing a certain distinct mask that has been showcased here on numerous occasions, but now is in the possession of Aspenotron. This also includes Poppy, but the thing I ordered her is STILL NOT HERE and they even refunded me my money, so I'm afraid it may never be here ... then again ... I will still keep my eyes open for the book. I hear they are re-releasing it for some strange reason. This will be in Sept. of this year which is not very far away.

Iloveyougoodbyeforalittlewhile.

PPS: I will also soon be posting a book review because I promised I would. AHHH!

Oh Sheet. I Already Gotta Take a Break From My Break.

2008-08-16T11:28:00.014-05:00

As you know I am currently on hiatus.

However, last night I was invited to go to the Black Crowes concert by an old friend. I was able to take pics because it was at the Stir Concert Cove and they don't have a problem with people bringing cameras in, which is really rare.

When I was in high school I had a shrine to the Black Crowes in my bedroom. Summertron remembered that and thought of me when she got the free tix, so YAY for good memories. Her mom, Vickitron actually won them, but let us have them.

A big thank you to the tall dude who took some of the following pics and hello to a certain Indianola teacher with a beautifully shaped head.

Also, to the chicks who we talked to at the end of the night: you missed out on partying with us at the finest yokel establishment in Omaha. It's cool though. I got to hang with an old friend and I didn't have to worry about her getting wrapped up in some woman drama later in the night.

The show -- They rocked my face off. They only played a couple of BC oldies, but the new stuff had a nice bluesy jam-session feel to it. I am still strangely attracted to the Jesus-like looks of Chris Robinson, despite the observation that Chris Robinson, in addition to being very skinny is also quite flabby. Oh well. Rich Robinson looked like his usual stoic self.

At one point in the night, we were standing behind these West O helmet hair women and they were in their little chairs and Summertron and I were dancing and talking and singing along with our beers in hand (HELLO BUDWEISER!). The drummer started busting out a solo and I said, "I didn't realize we were at a Led Zeppelin concert," and we both laughed and then I said, "Look Summerton," and I pointed at the drummer, "it's Animal from the Muppets!" At that moment beer squirted out of her mouth and into one of the helmet head's coifs. Helmet sprang up and said, "NOW I FELT THAT! WAS THAT YOUR SPIT?!?!?!" and Summertron said, "Oh no! Sorry. That was just my beer." We felt that was the appropriate time to take a port-a-potty break.

For reals sisters and brothers of The Internerts, after this, I'm out for at least a week. I swear. (Unless I feel like coming back before then. HA!) My suggestion to you is to subscribe to this blog so you are alerted IMMEDIATELY when I come back from my little break. Hurry up! Go subscribe immediately! You don't want to miss any of my future zany antics, do you? I think not.

Please note: I will be writing a request to Budweiser to subsidize my blogging habits because I give them so much free advertising. (See below and search Chelada.) I love me some brew.

What's on the menu for tonight? Well Sillies, it will involve a trip to Whole Foods, a bbq grill, a fire pit, some beer, Hubbetron, and me. There will be other things too, but you will need to fill in the blanks on your own. I trust you Sillies. (The kids are going to Arbotron's and we're being left to our own devices.)

PS: PAIGETRON! Before I went to the concert, I shaved my armpits in your honor! I salute you dear friend, with baby smooth underarms (for like 6 hours anyway)!

Iloveyouliketermiteslovelogcabins.