My Life as a Fuzzy

During my summer of unemployment, I have come to the realization that a nonworking man needn't view hygiene as much of a priority as the working class might deem it. Don't fret children; I still did some of the daily upkeep such as showering and brushing my teeth and the likes. And, at those special times when an event would arise such as a person-to-person interview (which was once - as opposed to over the phone interview; three times), or a family gathering consisting of more than Mom & Dad or a sibling, I would tidy myself up real nice-like and partake in whatever task was at hand.

It has now been almost a month since said events (or any events) have taken place. My internet surfing skills and remote control familiarization have improved dramatically. My social skills have noticeably declined. More importantly, my facial hair has continued to grow. I figured now was the time for my physical appearances to stray from my otherwise static grooming patterns. And, I have to tell you my friends, the result is not pretty. I don't think most would consider me offensive, but whom do I have to offend?

I have decided to continue growing my patchy, unsymmetrical facial friends to their maximum potential until the day when I physically step foot onto a job site. For those of you pining for pics, I am still available in person (forget that not). Otherwise I will give you the outcome before that fateful time comes when I become one of the gainfully employed and decide to return to my more familiar, clean-shaven state. Until that time, I am Sparta.

Oh Sparta...

I have just returned from a graduation party for my next door neighbor in Sparta, WI. In the approximately 1 1/2 godforsaken hours I spent at The Zone (formally the American Legion) I had counted 4 mullets, 8 wifebeaters (the attire not abusive husbands, but I'm sure there were a handful of those too) and 3 headbands in a place that was not that busy.

My dad and I made a stop at the bar before committing to a location whilst he starts talking to a couple who has been at the bar since before noon. It is now after 3:00 on a Sunday afternoon. As I stood aside, not wanting to be any part of the wife's drunken slurrage, this huge feller wearing, from the above list, a mullet and a hot pink tank top spits, "What the fuck are you looking at?" In which I turn to him and reply in my most condescending manner , "Not you." Seemingly confused by my response, he sits back down and reunites with his PBR.

Now I realize that Sparta has been, and always will be Sparta. A few deserved Spartans escape for a better life, even fewer do not. What really troubles me is the fact that some of the remainders have leaked out and Spartanized, if you will, other unknowing and unwilling communities. The time to act is now, my friends! It is time we band together and begin our own civilization, start our own society, live by our own government. Eventually we can extend our population to those who pass certain regimented tests based on personality, background and skills. We can regulate our own environment until, when the time comes, we poison our Kool-Aid and burn ourselves to the ground.

Who's in?

Interesting side note - Tommy Orrico was at said party sporting a black t-shirt with the tuxedo print - always a classic. Tommy and the shirt, I mean.