Week 24: Photograph an Unusual Animal in the Wild

Week 24 has arrived.  Will it offer a promise of adventure, an escape from the air conditioned nightmare that is the 21st century office job?

Drawing this week is, Sameer, a rare soul who actually requested to draw rather than being ambushed like those before him.

He practiced all week

The result, a rare white paper one, and very intriguing at that:

And apparently written by a  6 year old

There we have it, very vague and open to interpretation.

One thing is for sure though.  I'll need a new hat.

Two Tuesdays Later

Armed with my new hat, and safari partner, which is not a euphamism ... yet.

I set out in search of an animal worthy of the goal.  Across the grand wasteland of eastern Colorado. 

So flat you can see the earth curve

Seriously though, that hat is pretty fantastic no?

You may be asking, "Knick,  why on earth in seeking out animals would you head out to the flat lands and not the Mountains where all sorts of wildlife live?"  The answer of course is, because the mountains are far away, and I've got shit to do.

So how did it go?  I spotted a couple of antelope who were not cooperative with me getting closer.  I guess I should have invested in that animal urine cologne.  But I did snap a picture.

That itty bitty spec on the horizon is two majestic antelopes.

Or a bush, you decide

Works better in the movies

So here we are again.  I'm sure history will judge me poorly on this one.  Maybe an antelope doesn't count as rare, maybe a spec in a big grass field doesn't count as photographing.  Maybe trespassing in some farmer's field on the side of the highway doesn't count as wild.

But, like that suspicious roll of paper towel in your friends bathroom, sometimes you have to make do.

Hopefully we'll revisit this one soon.  Until then, remember a D-, still counts as passing.

Week 23: Throw a Wine Tasting Party

I think there was a movie about an evil number 23 once.  Jim Carey was in it.  He was scared of 23 for some reason.  I can't really relate, numbers don't frighten me.  Except prime numbers, but that's because its a lifestyle choice I disagree with.

Now where were we?  Week 23 has arrived and brought with it a new drawer Michael.

Generally speaking you should always look at things you stick your hands into

The result, takes some explaining.

Warm up your Volvos!

To explain.  Once I had heard about parties where fancy wine served with the bottles hidden in bags.  To encourage culture or something.

Like this but with more cheese

Never being one to miss jumping on a fad 10 years too late I thought "I should have my own party".  But, with the cheapest, nastiest hobo-iest wine I could fine.   I can invite anyone and everyone to come and taste from boxes, jugs and cans of wine covered up to see who has the most refined pallet to distinguish Boones Farm from Night Train. Franzia from Bartles and Jaymes. 

And cheese, the finest cheese in cans, or in jars.  Paired with delectable fruit roll-ups.  Surely, with a party like this I will secure my place alongside Gatsby.

So, I'm off to do some planning, I'll need a venue, a menu and then you, dear reader, are more than welcome to attend the first ever 2014 semi annual wine-o wine tasting party.

I'll probably have to work on the name.

Watch this space.

Thursday

Well it's Thursday, and the spectre of failure has colored my life.

Yes, that Spectre

 

As you may have guessed I have not held a wine tasting party.  Unfortunately, my work chose this exact week to demand I actually put forth effort.  What a bunch of turd burglers.

Sometimes postponement can lead to wonderful things though, just ask anyone on death row.

So, dear readers, keep an eye out for the update to come hopefully next week.  In the meantime enjoy this inspiration:

Wine comes in at the mouth.  And love comes in at the eye.
That’s all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die
-William Butler Yeats

Change the spelling and word order and that becomes a very dirty quote.

Crash a Convention - Revisited

We've got a couple hours to kill before next weeks drawing, so why not revisit a failed one from a few weeks back.

The dreaded crash a convention ... or something. 

Or Something

As luck would have it I found myself free on a Friday afternoon, and I went a convention hunting.  First stop the Inverness Hotel in Broomfield on a hot tip from one of my confidential sources.  Thanks Jon.

And boom right off the bat paydirt:

National Association of Collegiate Women Athletics Administrators

Swing and a Miss
Well despite being told I'm effeminate my whole life, turns out I'm not effeminate enough to easily blend in with a room full of women athletics administrators.

Line Drive!
So keeping my resolution high, I explored the hotel further, as it is a very big hotel.  And as luck would have it on the other side there was a very large convention happening for "Shamrock Foods".

Participants didn't have uniforms but did have matching bellies

Despite being very underdressed.

A riveting read

I quickly tried to blend in, picking up some reading material from some of the vendors lining the hallway to use as a cover.

Then I saw it, an open conference room just before some speeches, so I snuck in took a seat in the back, and prepared myself to learn all about lettuce.

That's lettuce he's holding, not weed

I learned about lettuc pricing points, I learned about how iceberg lettuce is dying, and how romaine is king.  I learned about how they screw you and me, the customers, by giving us lettuce that is fluffier to look like we are getting more.

I also learned about onions, quite a bit about onions, and organic farming.

Well, after an hour of that I felt it was safe to mingle about.  I snagged some free samples, smiled awkwardly and avoided eye contact with the hotel security.

Little known fact, food is lower in calories when it's stolen

Yes.

After about a half hour of playing interloper I remembered I had the day off and should spend it doing something more interesting than tresspassing and learning about lettuce.  So I called it a success, belated though it may be.

It pays off

Week 22: Get A Tattoo

It's week 22, and summer is knocking on the door, selling magazine subscriptions, or distributing pamphlets or something; I don't know because I'm not answering.

Our guest haberdasher today is Thomas.

Yes I know that's not what a haberdasher does

And the result is the most dreaded of all.

Like Three Knocks on the Door of Unhappiness

Wear your heart on your skin in this life.
-Sylvia Plath



Monday Update

There is much to report today, my dear stranger who probably stumbled across this on the Googles.  An appointment has been made for Tomorrow at 5 o' clock.  A design has been chosen, with the location still TBD, but probably not the face.   Probably.

Let's take a few seconds to ponder the sage advice I have been given in my quest for self mutilation.

"Don't do it"
"Don't do it because of some stupid list"
"Don't put it somewhere obvious"
"Get a tramp stamp"

So, not a lot of help there.  So, like the great and mighty North American White Snake, I will go again, on my own.

Tuesday Tat Day.  Or Tattuesday 

Well the day came, and it would be rude to cancel my appointment so I set off with a vague idea and met my artist.  Tyler.

After much discussion and drawings we settled on an idea and had at it.

His job was harder than mine

How was it?

For the uninitiated like myself until a couple hours ago, the thought of a tattoo seems like an ominous mountain of pain.  The result though pretty tame, like what I imagine it must feel like to have a baby chew on your arm for an hour or so.

Of course there was blood

Unlike That Misleading Movie of Similar Name

What was it?

A Very Realistic Garbage Bag Tattoo

Pictured: A guy who really didn't want his picture taken

Seriously, quit being a dick, and show it.

Lock up your daughters

That's right, in honor of this year, 2014, the year of the hat. I commemorated it with an upside down hat.  What's written above it you ask?  Why that says "Nil Revelatur" which is Latin for none of your damn business.

To get serious for a second though.  Its a saying encoded in Latin, a tribute in honor of a dear friend of mine who was too good for this world.

This one's for you Dirk.  I miss you buddy.

Week 21: Do 500 Push Ups in One day

And were back, hot off a fresh steaming pile of failure from last week.  Ready for redemption.

This week marks a unique situation where the entry was drawn in absentia, as I was too busy partying it up in Broomfield.

I don't know who this is

So, a kind stranger, lets call him Julio did the drawing for me.  The result a very imposing and sad-making one.

Forecast calls for failure

Let me crunch some numbers and get back to you all.

Wednesday Update

I bet you thought I had given up.  That the failure of attempting to crash a wedding, and looming impossibility of push ups had finally crushed my hope. 

Well  if years of participation trophies, "let's just be friend talks", and "at least you tried" speeches couldn't do it, what chance do a few hundred push ups have?

The truth is, that 500 sure sounds like a big number, when spread across an entire day, its dissapointingly easy.

I started out bright and early around 8 Am, and in intervals of 10-20 push ups at a time, wrapped up around Midnight that night with number 500.

Times 500

 And this:

because, why not?

And what did we learn?

Well, we learned that the law of averages can give as well as take away.  We learned that even though you can spread 500 push ups across an entire day, you will still be sore the next day.  And we learned that doing push ups in the park, in the store and around town doesn't get you as many strange looks as you'd think.

Finally, we learned that if you ever want to have a fun thing to brag about you too can easily do a large number of push ups in a day, and the brag will be infinitely more impressive than the execution.  But isn't that true of all the stories we tell?

They can't all be winners folks.



 

Week 20: Crash a Convention or Wedding

So we've arrived at week XX, one X short of a good time.  Still recovering from last week, I find myself indulging in replacing the remaining entries in the hat with "Take a Nap".  But I must persevere.

Today's (or more accurately yesterday's) drawer is the stoic philosopher Brian.

He reached nirvana soon after

And the result is the confusingly listed "Crash a Convention or Something".  Because, apparently, in drafting the resolutions I became very apathetic.  Anyway, the "Something" should mean Wedding.  As it reads I could probably rent a car and crash it.  Which is easier?

So, like a middle aged middle distance runner, I must find inner strength, get back on that horse, and quit mixing so many metaphors.  I must seek out a place I am not invited, blend in, and leave on my own accord un-escorted by security personnel.

The plan as it stands now is:

1. Find a wedding, or event.
2. Create an appropriate persona
3. Get a name tag?
4. Infiltrate, and score some free food, or schwag.

Wish me luck, unless its your last wish from the genie.  In which case you should wish me a rock god.  Or world peace.  Either one.

Thursday Update

So it's Thursday, and I completely struck out.  Despite buying a tasteful card for the wedding I planned to crash.

Trespassing is no excuse for being impolite

To clarify.  With card in tow, I set out to a few wedding reception places I found on the googles.  Only to find no wedding taking place.  Likewise I could not find a suitable convention to crash.

As fate would have it however, I did attend a convention, one that coincidentally I was invited to.

It's a convention for retired horses

Or software, same difference

So it doesn't really count, and we'll chalk this one up to the failed pile for now, I'll keep my card and keep an eye open for weddings and conventions and hopefully we'll get to revisit this one with a passing grade in the future.

Week 19: Eat Poutine in Canada

There comes a day in a man's life, when he has to look himself in the mirror and say "just how committed am I to my own madness?"

Today was not that day, but it very well could be this week.

Today's guest Drawer, Luke, hit the scene with a splash, pulling out what's probably the 2nd most expensive thing in the hat.

At this point I think the hat needs calibration

The result of course.

Fuck

Here we are, the first of the travel challenges finally emerges and its on the busiest weekend of the month.  I have but one day available for this challenge  Sunday.  Mothers Day. 

It can be done, I can fly to Seattle, drive to Vancouver, eat Poutine, drive back to Seattle, and fly back.  All in time for work on Monday.

The question is, am I completely fiscally stupid enough to do it?

Only time will tell ...

Thursday Update:  Always Choose What Makes for the Better Story

If you listen closely you can hear the moaning of frugal people everywhere

So here we have it, on Sunday I will arrive in Seattle at 10 AM.  Depart at 7:30 PM.  In that 9.5 hours  I will need to rent a car, drive to the border, cross the border, find a place to eat, eat, cross the border again, and drive back to the airport, return the rental car, and fly back.

I'm sure it can be done, but if anything goes wrong, I could be stuck in Seattle, and forced to hear an unbearable amount of "I told you so's".

You could la la la la la
And you could lie to all your friends
But you can't take that stuff to Canada
You can't take it anywhere
-Low - Canada

Sunday Update:  And Here We Go


So, the adventure begins.  I have recruited a trusted navigator to be my eyes and ears from afar, to inform me about flight delays, weather, border crossing wait times.

The drinking gallons of coffee was his idea though

Phase 1 complete:

Add caption

After some may de-icing, which is completely ridiculous we were off, and a mere 3 hours later touched ground in Seattle.

Then it was a quick jog to the rental place where I picked out my mighty steed.  Now since I was going to be crossing the border twice probably within an hour, this might arouse some suspicion.   So, to avoid any undue conflict I should probably pick the most inconspicous vehicle possible.

Mission Accomplished

Phase 2 was completed and the race was on, I set off down the I5 across the beautiful pacific northwest, racing against the ever ticking clock.

Very green

Then Phase 3, I arrive at the Canadian border, the big question mark.   I figure I'll tell them I"m in town for a day and want to get some poutine, easy as pie right?

Funny it doesn't look foreboding

Turns out that was a big no.  I explain my purpose, perhaps not very well, and they don't buy it.  So I get to spend 20 minutes talking to two very nice, but very skeptical customs agent.  It felt like I was being interviewed for a job, senior executive in charge of not going to prison.

After answering many questions and showing them, this very blog, I was allowed into their great country.  Now 30 minutes behind the clock I set off across the also very green Canadian country side.

Coming soon on Fox:  the gameshow that's sweeping the nation. 

Canada or Iowa?

Then a short math filled drive of computing Kilometers from Miles, I arrived at the first place I could find that served poutine.  A fast food restaurant.

If you never had fries before, you'd probably go to McDonalds right?

And Bam, maybe the most difficult challenge left is done.

Pictured: the most expensive meal I've ever had

Verdict?  Salty, and it burned the shit out of my mouth.  Otherwise good.

So the story pretty much ends there, without much excitement, I returned to America crossing the border with no problems at all.  So pro-tip for all you smugglers, its the Canadian customs you have to worry about.

Birthplace of the morbidly obese

Made it back to the airport with an hour to spare, then turned out to be 2 hours as the flight was delayed.  Came back to snowy crappy Colorado, and dreamt of the days before I lost my mind.

Thanks for listening everyone.