Thursday, March 31, 2011

lord of the pigs

gasping for air, piggy lay facedown on the sandy shore of brokenwind island, beside him lay the remnants of his steve urkelesque spectacles. He tried awkwardly to replace them on his chubby face but bent and broken they resembled the ones he wore in his 6th grade yearbook photo. His recent portliness being a product of the sedentary lifestyle he has been living as an “observer” on the once thought-to-be unsinkable u.s.s. cinatiT. Piggy rolls over onto his blubbery haunches to survey his surroundings. A long sandy beach stretches as far as the eye can see, which is littered with a number of the ships’ survivors. He is distracted by something washing up to his feet “ooooo a bacon buttered cheeseburger bagel with extra bbq baconbits.” the other survivors can wait he thinks and produces a mayonnaise packet from his pocket that he has begun carrying at all times. with the dexterity of a malnourished wolverine he shovels the burger in his slobbering mouth while simultaneously squirting the mayo down his gullet; a glob of squeezey cheese lands on his t-shirt that reads ‘mayo; proof god loves us.’ “Aaahhhhh much better” he groans and struggles to stand but after a number of attempts, resigns to roll down the beach instead.

The first shipmate he comes upon is neB, the crews favorite dwarf and resident NASCAR / MMA aficionado, who hails from BugZap, Mississippi. “’ay da, ‘em glada see jou boi dang” piggy’s slow, saltwater soaked mind takes a moment to comprehend this but then remembers that lil’ neB only speaks southern Mississippian. “I’m glad to see you too neB. What happened to the boat, it just happened so fast” “dang blast ‘t wod hapin boat dun brok dang cuz” piggy had arrived on the boat weeks earlier in fairly good health, but over the last few weeks, before his body mass index swallowed the chart, he had noticed that the boat had begun to sit lower and lower in the water. The crew blamed it on global warming (more water=lower boat height) but a thought squeezed its way through piggys gelatinous brain “arrgh me thunk it be me eat many fud” hey hey wait brain, that kind of thinking gets you no where piggy thought dismissively. He then picked up neB and put him on his back saying “just dig your lil’ beanie weenie fingers into my ample neck fat and hold on, lets find the others.” “gud thanken’ boss u be rel smrt, me like u” replied neB.

Further down the beach they came to the one they call vlad pooting, the russian. big as an ox and dumb as a waffle iron, vlad is the embodiment of rocky IV’s arch nemesis ivan drago, complete with flat-top fade and broken cliché villain talk “me brrrreak you like bowl kittens and jello.” He also had a strange obsession with digital clocks, which was important to feign interest in, if you didn’t want to be “crrrrrrusted like baby sea squid.” “oh tell me about that one ivan….err I mean mr. pooting (snicker, snicker)?” “yessss favorite of me. biiig numbers, shiny colorrrr, grrrrreat snooze button.” “wow, and that one in the corner?” “amirican shit, me crrrush like coconut cupcake” he spat and involuntarily slammed his fist through the 3” thick porthole window. He was a great ally to have on the island if we are to survive. The three of them headed on down the beach.

Off in the distance came a sound that they all knew too well; the sound of flatulence and immediately realized evaD the lovable, mindless imbecile from Mudflap in northern Louisiana had survived. evaD was always heard before seen by making fart noises with his mouth, whether answering questions or expressing emotion, fart noises was his chosen method of communication*. Cheerfully, evaD appeared from under a bush whimpering with sea urchin spines sticking out from around his mouth like a pincushion. “splat poot fart“ “evaD, are you ok?” piggy asked, bending down to help him up. Without warning neB leapt from piggys back and began gnawing out evaD’s kneecap. “POoooot” he sputtered in pain. Piggy reached down and plucked neB from evaD’s knee and instantly remembered the age-old bad blood between northern Louisianans and southern Mississippians; once so close in language and culture but separated now by their diametrically opposed views on chevy and ford trucks. “flibbity, flabbity, gibberty let me at ‘em, dang” cried neB. “splattt, pooot, droppp” retorted evaD as Vlad restrained him with an extended arm against evaD’s forehead like an older brother, while evaD flailed and kicked. Speaking both their languages Piggy told evaD “no, I promise neBs had all his shots and no you cant get diabetes from a dwarf bite.” After a timeout and the threat of being put on restriction from tv during the Talladega race both parties calmed with the occasional snort and/or toot.

*truthfully I wish this were a joke, I cant make this stuff up

“we must keep moving to try to save the others” piggy urged. the motley crue pressed on under the oppressive heat of brokenwind island. The party walked along the beach until they reached the windward edge of the island and the coastline became a series of jagged rocks and cliffs. A distinct gurgling sound came emanating from an inaccessible sea cave below, piggy had heard that sound before and it brought back traumatic memories. Once on a midnight snack run to the ship’s pantry he had stumbled upon dribbles, the cook, snuggled in a sams club sized bag of Cheetos with his pants at his ankles, rubbing icing on his distended santa belly. He knew, albeit painful, he must save this poor creature. thinking quickly he remembered that he had stowed away some last reserves of easter peeps and butter buddies and began working macguyver-like on a plan. Sewing the peeps together with fruit roll-ups, he built a mattress and rubbed the butter along the bottom to help it glide over the dangerous rocky cliff. Though it pained him greatly to use his last snack supplies he knew dribbles needed them. Cautiously he approached the precipice and was instantly rocketed down the slope atop the Peeper-Pad, which broke his fall with a thud. Peering into the darkness he noticed two dull, droopy, slightly stupid orbs peering out sheepishly. As he approached the quivering figure, he recognized dribbles’ distinctive belly, deeply crossed eyes, and greasy bubbles at the corners of his mouth. Dribbles cowered shivering in the back of the cave clutching a KFC slop bowl® with a glob of mashed potatoes, corn and gravy dripping down his chin and muttering soft coos of semi-conscious happiness and fear. “easy little fella, im not gonna hurt ya” piggy said calmly. “hes gonna come >slurp< back” gurgled dribbles. “Whos coming back?” piggy replied “king rolyaT, the terrible one. He will >burp< kill us all, I cant leave >plop< the cave or he’ll get me and all my delicious Hamburger Howie Hot pockets, Baby Buster Bacon Balls, Dixie Darling Doughnut Drops and Krispy Krusty Krackly Kracker Kakes” “its ok, we’re here to save you. Lets get out of here we’ll protect you. we have a russian for gods sake.” try as he might piggy couldn’t get baby huey to his feet and settled on boarding him like a life raft and floating to the beach, which was actually quite comfortable. Back on land, dribbles was shifty like a cornered badger, constantly scanning the beach with his googly eyes like those found on elementary school sock puppets.

Night fell on their little camp and dribbles was no less antsy, “hes coming, hes coming.” they were startled from their slumber by an eerie fog that crept in on little cats feet, and bolted upright to see the profile of a massive figure standing on the bluff above them outlined by a full silver moon and further shaken by a diabolical cackle. “shriek” they shrieked. “ahhhh who you be dang?” neB cried “who am I? who am I you ask” replied the shadow “yeah that’s what he said already” piggy shot back feigning courage and a little bravado. “tis I, king >dun dun dun< >thunderclap< rolyaT, and you are my loyal subjects” squeaked the voice. “come out of the shadows please its really hard to see you, your majesty.” Slowly the figure stepped forward; getting smaller and smaller and smaller until at last they could make out a pintsized man. This miniature napoleon stood with hand tucked into his jordache buttondown tshirt, pressed black Gitano military BDU slacks, tiny neon Velcro zips and a mickey mouse pocket watch; the perfect catalog model for the JCpenny kids dept. Though his reign had only lasted 3 hours he governed with an iron, albeit tiny and adorable, fist. his diminutive stature was a result of a regimented diet of celery, protein shakes, and bagel bites, but that didn’t retard is outsized authoritarian rule. He and his first lady had pledged to fight a war on junk food in their kingdom and would stand for no one to defy their will. “I demand you dispossess yourself of any and all refined sugary snacks including but not limited to: tiny tims’ texas toasted taco tater toppers, sam smothers’ slippery slidey slime sliders, charlie chaplan’s crud covered cocoa candycorns, and of course absolutely NO dilbert dawkins diary dipped dragon-drawn goofballs or else.” “ha You and vhich arrrmy?” snorted Vlad pooting. From behind king rolyaT, stepped 6 massive Kappa Sigma Alpha Delta force meatheads each holding a bottle of kiwi mango strawberry Muscle Milk. “youll never take our freeeeeeeedom, let ‘em have it boys.” yelled piggy as the motley crue began throwing snack cakes at the kappas, striking the king in the forehead “WATCH OUT, incoming empty calories!!!! Full retreat, meatheads.”

Oh how the motley crue cheered and danced the night away around the campfire to celebrate their victory (well not really danced on account that they began huffing and puffing after a couple of shuffly steps). “they’ll be >squirt< back” dribbles croaked.

First, Vlad was walking through the forest looking for things to break when he saw something sleek and shiny purple hanging from a tree. on closer inspection he discovered the most beautiful knockoff adidas track suit a Russian had ever seen and as he stepped forward he fell into a giant pit of fat free, organic, extra firm tofu, never to be seen again.

Next neB was heading down to the shoreline to flip sea turtles on their backs, when he was distracted by a suspicious envelope that lay in the sand. He cautiously opened it to reveal a pair of upper level tickets to the lynard skynard and white snake reunion concert at the caldwell county fairgrounds. “flipping heck blast it dang” and immediately died of a cardiac arrest due to overjoy.

evaD set out to poke things in the eye with a stick when he saw something so amazing he couldn’t resist gravitating to it. There in the middle of some leaves lay the most beautiful thing he ever done seen: a shiny metal toaster and a pile of pretty pebbles. From above fell a well-balanced diet of fruits and vegetables that immediately crushed evaD with a wide grin across his face.

Dribbles was nibbling his way through a king sized marvin “the middle-aged meanie” milboogers’ musty malty meatball milkshake bar, when he choked on a cucumber slice that had strangely found its way into his candybar. Unbeknownst to him he was allergic to vegetables and died of anaphylactic shock.

Alone and afraid, piggy heard a chant growing louder and soon made it out to be “kill the pig, get his sugar, let them eat carrots.” Cutting left and right, piggy ran frantically into the forest away from the ever closer cries of the kappa sigma delta beta gamma meatheads, “kill the pig, down with high fructose corn syrup, balanced diet, plenty of exercise, and healthy lifestyle choices.” Quickly approaching from the left he sees krang, the vice president and number one mean guy, who throws a sharpen celery that nicks piggys tubby knees and spills grape jelly. Injured and frightened, piggy struggles jumping over roots, ducking under branches, and running for his life.

“He stumbled over a root and the cry that pursued him rose even higher. Then he was down, rolling over and over in the warm sand, crouching with arm to ward off, trying to cry for mercy. He staggered to his feet, tensed for more terrors and looked up at a huge peaked cap. He saw white drill, epaulettes, a revolver, a row of glit buttons down the front of a uniform. A naval officer stood on the sand, looking down at ralph… err I mean piggy, in wary astonishment.”

“Fun and games?” the officer asked. Piggy shook his floppy head. “Who’s the boss?” asked the officer. Piggy looked up “tony danza…. Just kidding I am.”

With filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, piggy wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called dribbles.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

crazy fiery deepwater horizon

i got these pictures from guys on the boat who were on the BP deepwater horizon spill from the beginning. to the see the size of one of the ultra-deepwater, semi submersible drill platforms is unbelievable. they are 320 ft tall and to think it sank boggles my mind.


satellite images of the extent of the spill


apr 20th the rig exploded and these pictures are from the 20th, 21st and 22nd when it sank to 5000 ft below the sea


the fire was doused with thousands of gallons of water to no avail. guys said the fire was so hot on the response boats that paint was melting and dripping around them.


they told me they would constantly hear explosions as sealed, thick metal hatches would pop like popcorn.






amazing


going


going


gone


then the massive cleanup response began


discoverer enterprise in the middle was one of the drill ships working on the relief well and rov (remotely operated vehicle), at times hundreds of boats in a 1 mile radius


discoverer enterprise, burning off methane


drill ships


skimming boom deployed


dispersant was dropped in unprecedented amounts


the good stuff


this floated up a couple days after the rig sank, its a eerie reminder that 11 men died


tired and oiled cattle egret

Monday, March 21, 2011

oil response


this is the m/v discoverer enterprise one of the ships that drilled the relief well near the deep water horizon well head. we follow the 800ft ship around and if any oil is seen around the ship we deploy a boom and suck it up, fortunately they havent seen oil since oct.


this is the response boat with m/v discoverer enterprise in the distance.



Sunday, March 13, 2011

bordering on sanity




i got off the dredge on wednesday and decided that i deserved a vacation for 3 whole weeks of work. my next deployment is out of mississippi on tuesday on a "skimmer" that is monitoring relief well drilling near the site of the BP deepwater horizon oil platform. so i had 6 days before heading to mississippi. i drove from lake charles, la to matamoros, mx across from brownsville, tx then west to reynosa, mx before heading up to austin, tx for the south by southwest fest.


leaving the dredge; a welcome break from the monotony. its remarkable how much weight you can gain when you eat three, dredge-worker-sized meals and cant walk more than 300 ft per day. ill tell you how much: 12lbs, after a couple years i could look like this guy.


crossing the rio grande into mexico. this relatively insignificant river represents a division of mindset and wealth. crossing into mexico means simply driving over a bridge and into the indescribable, chaotic buzz that define border towns. while the us border requires an hour of waiting in your car surrounded by drug dogs, cameras, unhappy looking border patrol, swarms of mexicans selling peanuts and elvis presley figures (the king never died here), churros, and statues of the virgin mary.


the first night in matamoros i found a basketball court and played pickup. the guys asked me what i was doing down here (which became a common question) and i said just vacationing. they seemed surprised that i was there and asked if i knew it was dangerous. i said "is it really dangerous or do they just say that on the tv." "no, its dangerous for gringos and mexicans"
i went for a walk to get dinner and found a taco wagon and again was asked if i was scared. i started to get the feeling that maybe it wasnt a great place for a vacation.

breakfast of refried beans, cactus pads, rice and stewed beef


next was getting my hairs cut. i told her a normal hair cut and this what i got



i know you've all seen it the faux-hawk sported by many a latino... well for a limited time you too can have mexican chic for 3$.


unfortunately i dont have pictures of my multiple encounters with the mexican police but ill explain.

incident #1 i was driving from matamoros to reynosa and was behind 3 semis and we came through a "checkpoint" the trucks were allowed to pass but seeing my plates i was asked to pull over. the cop asked for license and registration and told me i was going 60km/h in a 20km/h zone. our conversation went like this;
me: there is no way you saw me behind those trucks
cop: yeah i did
me: oh no you didnt
cop: oh yes i did
me: no you dinit
cop: did too
me: ok let me see your radar gun
cop: no you cant (puts it behind his back)
me: wait that thing doesnt have batteries in it
cop: does too
me: does not
cop: does too
then he tells me we need to go to the police station to issue me a 900peso (80$) ticket and it will take an hour or more. "ok lets go" i said trying to call his bluff and play the part. "orrrrr you can pay it here" he says. i give him 20pesos and he hands it back "not enough." i sweeten the deal with another 10pesos and he reluctantly eyes his partner, shrugs and shakes my hand, smiles and says "have a nice day." i giggle as i drive away thinking i just paid a ticket for $2.60, i guess the shakedown works if you do it all day.

incident #2 less than 5 minutes down the road im stopped again, this time by military police with m-16s. as im talking to the police they walk around the truck and see my venezuela plate and im sure im in trouble, but fortunately my spanish is bad enough and i look stupid enough he realizes how difficult it will be to get a bribe out of me and lets me go.

incident #3 next im driving south to monterrey and hit a checkpoint and am told if im traveling south of trade zone (20miles) on either side of the border i need to get a stamp (20$) and register my truck (30$). no thanks

incident #4 im trying to find the bridge to cross back to the states and again saw the blue lights. apparently ran a stop sign, sped, molested a zebra stripped donkey, smuggled undeclared ponchos, and was involved in a worldwide sombrero ring. he asks for my passport and registration "this is very serious senor, we need to go to the police station, follow me"
so i follow him to a remote location and he pulls over on the side of the road (i should have video taped this). then his partner came back and spoke english to me and i made it clear i didnt understand the bribe game. he then walked back to his truck to talk to his partner and returned and said "why are you here its dangerous" "vacation" "oh ok have a nice day" they then gave me a police escort to the bridge and i was on my way home.

it strikes me as funny that the police that were exhorting bribes from me were always polite and kind and willing to help me with my questions. yet they have to shakedown the population to gain a salary. they were always very interested in why i would want to come to mexico for vacation.

ever wondered where your totaled fiero goes when it dies? the answer is here. i thought since i had some extra time and ive been needing some parts for my truck i should stop into one of the plethora of junkyards in northern mexico. one of my favorite bastardized spanglish words is "junk," mexicans have turned it into "yonke." anywho ... i was sent from yonke to yonke and told to ask for guys like "conejo(rabbit)" it was a very enjoyable afternoon.


a sad remainder that mexicos drug war is everywhere. i saw a number of cars riddled with bulletholes.


really dude... really its 7am and im eating breakfast no i dont want to hear mariachi. apparently this horribly annoying musical genre isnt just for touristy gringo tex mex restaurants. the next table over was literally swaying with lighters alight overhead as they stuffed refried beans in their gullets. please for the love of god let me drink my horrible instant coffee in peace!!!!


street food is only thing that keeps america from surpassing heaven. for a snack i got this fruit cup with mango, jamaica, coconut, watermelon, cantaloupe, honeydew, guava, and of course chili powder for $1.50


crossing the border i bought a bag of roasted peanuts with a packet of hot sauce. nothings better than flaming hot diarrhea



i then drove to austin, tx for the south by southwest (sxsw) fest. its the coolest indie/techie music/film/hipster festival in the states. but first i had to try this thing texans call "bbq." the drive from houston to matamoros i covered in bbq places. every gas station has a bbq place growing beside it like a malignant tumor i swear. so i waited and i wernt gonna go to some old nasty place to make my decision. i went to the granddaddy "saltlick bbq" in driftwood, tx (not sure where the driftwood was) as seen on travel channel and food network.




reasons why texas bbq sucks:
1. it aint got no pig in it
2. its all beefy and like something your grandma feeds you
3. it aint piggy
4. you eat it with a fork and 'niife
5. it aint got no pig in it

you get to pick beef brisket (and/or burnt ends), smoked sausage, chicken, turkey. its served with a sesame colewslaw (good but sissy if you ask me) texas toast, and some potato stuff and beanie weenies. and... and... gets this they aint got no SWEET TEA. lord have mercy... nuff said