Usually drunken.

you're definitely doing it way wrong

Feb. 27, 2009, 6:06 p.m. by Trey
to kind of lighten up the mood of the blog for a change; i came across this motivational poster while i was being bored on the internet today. it pertains in two ways: a. you're doing it wrong b. i like chickens it made me giggle, thoughts?


Jan. 16, 2009, 4:40 p.m. by Trey
Socks, now made to stay fresh.
Two things to note in this picture... 1. The big ass "socks" word. 2. The "resealable bag" phrase in the middle of the picture. lol really? i found this while opening up my new socks today. I guess they are worried about them spoiling now-a-days. any other thoughts?

I'm the people I talk about.

Oct. 21, 2008, 5:56 p.m. by Trey
It's a medium!
It is now approximately 6:00pm. The shown picture is the shirt I have been wearing all day (compliments of my mother, thank you). There is however something odd/out of place on the damn thing. Can you find it? Yes, I'm sure as you quite promptly figured out, I had removed about 4 stickers from the shirt, and didn't think to examine the back of the shirt before donning it. there it is, a circular white tag with the letter m, meaning medium no doubt. i walked around with this both on and off campus in many different public places without a clue. if i see someone with a tag on their shirt, someone with something on themselves, hell even someone with a booger hanging out i let them know, because that's what i would hope someone would do to me. i'm not really embarrassed by the fact i'm an idiot, but rather annoyed that no-one had the decency to stifle their giggles and let me know i was walking around like a damned fool.

The Prelude

Sept. 22, 2008, 9:56 a.m. by Trey
Well this is going to be anything but a short series of posts and for those that don't care what I have to say, well suck it up and read it anyway, my life is interesting. This weekend was by far the best weekend of my entire life. I am actually composing this post on my iPhone riding with my father back from three rivers down here in south Texas. I think I'm going to post this in a book type form with chapters for better organization, as I have much to say, so here it goes. And yes I have posted them backwards for ease of reading on the website. Sorry for those with rss feeds.

Chapter 1: WTF Wednesday

Sept. 22, 2008, 9:56 a.m. by Trey
WTF Wednesday batt advert
Today is Wednesday September 17th. My emotions are basically riding the batman roller coaster and have been all week. As of now however they are in the apex of the tightest and most intense length of track. Tomorrow is Thursday, the day before the day I have been waiting for my entire life, no exaggeration. Good bull. Tomorrow is Thursday, the night I have dedicated to drinking and 'shooting the shit' with some of my close friends. Good bull. Tomorrow is Thursday, and I have a test in one of my online classes (bad idea btw) around 11:00am. Bad bull. But it is Wednesday, WTF Wednesday to be exact (so says the texas hall of fame), and I am waiting for jenny to come and pick me up to go for a night of drinking, dancing, and pool at our beloved honky tonk. The night was a different kind of fun than I am used to while attending any kind of event at the hall; it was incredibly relaxing. They did however, both fortunately and unfortunately, kick us out around midnight because we accounted for 2 of the 7 people in the entire place.

Chapter 2: I'll Just Wing It

Sept. 22, 2008, 9:55 a.m. by Trey
Well it's Thursday September 18th and I just got out of my poultry nutrition test (the online class). I think I did pretty decent considering my level of preparedness. Shooting for a low B. Oh shit it's Thursday... I have an organic chemistry test tomorrow. I decided to just wing it. I'll post my grade at a later date and we shall see how that went. I really couldn't bring myself to care about it. Even remotely. I wonder if something else was on my mind. Hmm... It's now 7pm and I have a chem review starting in 30 minutes. Where am I? I hope you guessed the hall. I had a blast as always, and am looking forward to tomorrow with a stupidly high level of excitement. Jenny and I are going to camp out tonight in front of g. rolly to get group 1 ring tickets.

Chapter 3: My July 20, 1969

Sept. 22, 2008, 9:55 a.m. by Trey
Me and my dad
It is 8am on Friday September 19th and my professor just told me I looked like death itself. It was colder than balls last night and I have now been awake for 25 hours. I finished my test in approximately 30 minutes and feel decently confident I made a low B or high C. I'm on the way home with 1 thing on my mind... 3:00pm. I attempted to lie down and sleep to pass the time and to catch up on my missed rest, but due to the coffee I basically chugged just an hour before made that attempt very futile. Great...now I have to sit and do nothing for the next 6 hours. Gqdoehqjrohehwhjdaf. 5.5 hours and a gallon of released endorphins later I step in my truck to head up to campus. My father, 12th man foundation member and class of '82 '84 '86, has come into town to watch me get my very own aggie ring. My girlfriend heather also has skipped her class so she could be with me on the (so far) proudest day of my life. Thank you babe. It is now 2:50 and I have met up with jenny and alex. The yells are fixing to start and I am damn glad I wore sunglasses. And no not because it was bright. It took me by surprise that they did not pass back the reload yell, but I very shortly didn't give a rat’s ass. The yells concluded and we moved into G. rolly. The place was incredibly organized and I waited no longer than 5 minutes after entering the building. Is this really happening? I walk up to the table and reach into my pocket to get my ID. I try to hand it to the ring attendant, note the word 'try.' I have suddenly contracted a temporary and extreme case of palsy. This shit was bad guys, I could have aerated lake Bryan with a single hand. I finally got my adrenaline levels back to a level I could control, and received my ring. Oh shit! I donned it and my knees just about gave out on me. I couldn't walk, I couldn't talk, and hell I couldn't even breathe. I owe heather and jenny the courtesy of reminding me to do that; I didn't think unintentionally not breathing was even possible. The day finished out with me constantly looking at it and it is now time to continue the rest of my book.

Chapter 4: White Wing Heaven

Sept. 22, 2008, 9:55 a.m. by Trey
My ring with the blood of poor innocent birds on i
It's now approximately 7:00am on Saturday September 20th, and I am sitting in the middle of a field holding a shotgun with my uncles. We are waiting for the dove to start flying. We got an incredibly good lease this year. There was approximately 2500 acres of land we were hunting that was full of goat weed with a few centralized and easily accessible ponds. (this is where we were, let's not get stupid and think we actually walked around this place). After the sun finished rising, the dove started flying, and let me tell you they were big, they were fast, and they were numerous. We slaughtered them, both in the morning and in the evening. On that note, any time you slaughter something there is going to be blood, fact of life. My aggie ring got a pretty damn good christening I think. Whoop.

Chapter 5: The Rattlesnake

Sept. 22, 2008, 9:55 a.m. by Trey
It is a good thing rattles give you a little warni
It's around 6:00pm now, still Friday September 20th, and I had 2 movements at this particular moment. A vocal movement of many loud profanities and a finger movement that happened to be resting on the trigger of my shotgun. Talk about stuff that gives you the heebie-jeebies. I had been crashing and rummaging around in the damn bushes all morning and all afternoon not paying near as much attention as I should have been apparently, and all that time this 6 foot rattle snake was creeping around!? Oh hell no... All I have to say is thank you evolution for slappin' rattlers on those mean sons-a-bitches. It does appear though that between the battle of big sharp pointy teeth and a holy 12-gauge shotgun, the shotgun is the suits trump. The snake had (and I repeat had) 16 rattlers on it, one for each time it sheds. btw, rattlesnakes shed once a year... Wow.
The catch

Chapter 6: Sticks and Stones

Sept. 22, 2008, 9:55 a.m. by Trey
Sticks and stones have never broken my bones, but shit fire gun butts sure can. This is mainly my dads’ fault however, maybe if he would replace his 90-year-old gun case that doesn't zip up the back anymore my little toe wouldn't have the blues. His truck is fairly tall, I'd say it stands probably 5 foot to the top of the bed, so as I was lifting his gun out, I lifted it probably about 7 foot into the air as I had to clear various other items that were sharing bed space; at this point his gun then slides out of the case and basically plummets to the earth butt down and crashes into not my foot, but just my damn little toe. It hurt and I was cussing. My shoulder is really f'ing sore from the butt as well, but that's just an unfortunate byproduct of a really kick ass weekend. **The End.**
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