This is a story about the first time I smoked weed. I was 16 years old at the time and on an island in the Bahamas, Great Abaco Island, and indeed it is. I traveled to this beautiful island with my fellow scouts, most notably Patrick and Justin. Our itinerary for the trip is as follows: Fly down there, stay on a boat for a week, fly back. The boat stayed on the dock the first night and the last night that we were there. The trip less the weed was amazing, but without the weed I might not have this feeling of really getting all I could out of the trip. It's like sledding. You can't not have fun sledding, but if you didn't really get scared, at least for a moment, it wasn't worth it. Just be happy you went home with no broken bones, or in my case be happy you went home with your life.
The first afternoon Justin asks me and Patrick if we want to smoke. Me and Pat both look at each other and agree that it's a good idea, neither of us have done it, and what a better place than the Bahamas? So our mission begins. So Justin takes the lead because he knows what he is doing and starts by asking strangers if they have ganja or trees. Right away we meet with some success, this kid smoking a cigarette just outside our dock pulls out a small amount of weed in a small plastic baggy from his cigarette box. This success was short lived after I jumped into the pool with the baggy. When I was in mid air Justin screamed at me and I had forgotten so I just thought there was a crazy Bahamian snake predator in the pool or something. Nope.
So were off again, we walk along the road that runs parallel to the shore with no prevail. We take the main road away from the shore and we see a gas station. Justin asks the guy attending the pumps "Hey do you know where we can get any trees?"
"Cheese?"
"Yeah"
The man proceeds to point us to the supermarket. We realize that he thinks were talking about cheese. haha
"no no no, TRRREEEES"
"Oh, no" but acts suspiciously sketchy. Cut losses, we head inside. There is a man working stocking the soda machines.
"Hey do you know where we can get any trees?"
"trees?"
"Yeah, like ganja."
"Hold on."
So now the soda guy talks to his pump buddy outside and all of a sudden someone has weed. They tell us to wait at the gas station and one of the men walk across the street, across the field, and into the woods. We make some small talk and about five minutes later, our order is up. We then buy a fine Cuban leaf and Justin rolls a mean blunt. We smoked it across the street from our dock and relished in our success. Neither me or Pat got high.
So mission success, lets go snorkel and soak up some sun all around the Islands. I saw sharks, eels, squid,a plethora of fish, dolphins (not while i was in the water, tear), and of course coral. No big deal.
So we are back on the dock at the end of the week and we decide to be devious and do this again. But this time its different, we didn't get back till after businesses closed. What were we to do? We skipped the road with the gas station on it and kept walking.. sort of in the direction of where the man went but on a road, not through the woods. So were asking people and its starting to get dark out. We ask this guy getting into his car if he knows where we can get any weed and he tells us to follow him. Justin asks if he should get in the car and he refuses and tells us to walk behind his car. There is a street light in the distance that he leads us to and points down this long dark dirt road. We thank him and start walking. We make it about 30 yards down when two men get our attention from the street light.
"Hey where you going?" They ask us. We tell them. They say they will show us the way. How kind. So were following them down this dark long dirt road and we enter an area that is pretty much a trailer park, but instead of trailers it's shacks. We leave the road and go through a hole in a metal fence, cross a small driveway, a few shacks, and a lot of mess and trash when we come to a group of men, some fairly large and the two who walked us in tell them we want some trees. All of these guys are already smoking and are sitting on old furniture and boxes, pretty sweet. So the main Bahamian left the group and entered his shack (i assume its his) and comes back momentarily with a mega blunt. We light it up and pass it back and forth between us offering it to the group who consistently refuse it. This deep in the woods of the Great Abaco Island the accent is a lot thicker and very hard to understand, so this cut down on small talk. We awkwardly smoked the blunt, just the three boy scouts and then went to leave when we had finished. As if this all wasn't sketchy enough when we went to leave, so did the two men that walked us in. Back down the long dark dirt road we go, with the two men at our back, slightly high.
"Don't worry were not going to rob you or anything." They actually said that...
Then it hit me, for the first time. "My god... I should be dead. Jesus Jon... What were you thinking! Why did they go down there with us??? they didn't even smoke!?!? They want my kidney. Okay, just get back to the docks... I can probably run faster than at least Pat, but there's two of them and Justin can run faster than me. Damn this sucks. I can see the street light, its not far off now. Fuck!"
Man was I scared. To the ease of our minds when we finally reached the street light they simply went on their way and we went ours. Were still a long way from our dock so we pick up our pace. Our scoutmasters have no idea where we are and I'm worried they are going to be asking questions. So we get back and no one was the wiser. Sweetness. I slept under the stars that night. Sometimes things are just beautiful, and the sky was that night.
Pretty pimp I know but it gets better.
"How Jon?! You have to tell me!"
Okay, if you insist. So my father does some high end carpentry, mostly cabinets. He, through his contacts, got a job down on an island in the Bahamas. So I got a paid trip to the Bahamas a couple summers ago and didn't realize I was going to the same island till I landed in the airport. So cool. On top of that after she stamped my passport I looked at it, and it was August 6th 2006 and the stamp directly above it was August 4th 2002, 4 years later I show up to the place where I first smoked weed. I ate dinner in a restaurant that I walked by 4 years earlier.
Our Dock.
The Gas station. (the building across the street didn't exist 5 years ago.)
The Dark Ghetto.
Where did you first smoke weed?
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Sea Base
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Party Fun! v.Permanent Scars
Party Fun. Edition One. Maybe I'll write one for superstars, but this one is dedicated to Permanent Scars!
Before you get sucked in, watch this!
Most of my readers will probably know me and I want to let you know, whatever you think I am thinking right now is correct, that is an example of permanent party scars, but thats not a quarter of what I party scars are all about.
Firstly, there is the literal. Josh's extremities, Helen's eyes and ears (her parents were drunks), Terks lip, my belly. The list goes on, tons of people are hurt every weekend (and Thursdays) by accidents related to drinking! So much so that people have made laws to stop people from hurting themselves exclusivly from drinking. Ridiculous.
This literal meaning isn't why I brought you here. There are far more threatening scars from drinking. These scars are mental. Sometimes they may seem physical, like when a friend of mine this summer couldn't stop pissing whenever he/she got drunk. This is a physical scar to the facilities that she misused. But the after effects, like mean nicknames such as cDubs hurt beyond any cushion can prepare for. Of in another, completely made up, post of mine where I tell a story of me regretting hooking up with some girl in aussy, that could be very permanent. So permanent in fact, that I would ignore her facebook friend request, twice ..if she tried.
I don't mean to make these scars out to be the bad guys, the person who regrets it is the bad guy. Everyone else should just sit back and enjoy these scars and hopfully learn from your own and others.
Monday, October 1, 2007
This is the shit!
a quick prelude to this post. On my most recent trip home to grab more party supplies and old porn collection i came across a folded piece of paper (with writing on it). I wrote this when I was on vacation probably 3 years ago and it was during a time of.. uh.. being uncomfortable.
I have been training my whole life. From the moment I was born my mother was running me through the steps. After the first handful of years I took control of the reigns and have been continuing to do so multiple times per week ever since. After taking the reigns, my family helped with the costs of training, and now, later in the game, I have taken over the costs. Thousands of dollars have been dumped into my training. I was a chiseled champion!
The month leading up to my university education i had almost perfected my skill. After 18 years I bet I was in the top 10% of the country, judging in all the main categories: quickness, clenliness, efficiency, and average overall size. With this efficiency I needed less supplies than my peers/competitors. I had gotten to the point where 4 out of 5 trips to the, once porcelain throne, I didn't even need to wipe! (i did, however, do a courtesy wipe) Then one day, all this training went down the drain (no pun). It started freshman year, I managed to keep it together for about the first month with slow, but steady, decline in performance. About half way through my first semester it really hit me. I couldn't make it 200 yards away from the dining commons before breaking into a full out sprint for the closest rest room. Imagine going from having a cleaner asshole after you shit than most arm pits to pulling the t.p out from your ass with more brown silly puddy on it than seems physically possible to hang on to your ass with gravity trying to get it away, not to mention the cheek spreading and hip convulsion to try to rid myself. I digressed 15 years at least, I'm just thankful I can take care of this mess by myself now.
Alright, I think you have the picture. Now I'll let you know how severe it got with a few anecdotal stories. Some of the worst few times included running from my car to near bathrooms, or when bathrooms were too far away, the side of the road would work for me. But easily the most notorious story would be the time in my dorm. I left the dining commons and headed for me dorm room. About half way there I got the rumbling in my stomach. After standing still for what felt like an hour, I continued to my room. At this point I didn't need to shit and decided to let it congeal a little bit before I drop him off, maybe I wont need to wipe this time! I start playing some video game on my computer. A half hour passes, maybe, when I get that feeling again and I jump up in sprint toward my door. I am paralyzed in my doorway praying I don't shit my pants. I quickly rack my brain.
"I won't make it to the guys room.. I'll just shit in the girls room (about half the distance as the guys room, both not far)"
*rumble*rumble*
"FUCK I'M NOT EVEN GOING TO MAKE IT TO THE GIRLS BATHROOM!" I quickly scan my room for some answer when I find it two feet away "Trash Only." Hallelujah!
I won't go into detail on this specific specimen but it wasn't a clean wipe. What did I do with the trash bin? I put it in the trash room because I felt that was the most appropriate spot for it. I stole back another so I wouldn't get charged for loosing a trash bin and I think I stole back the same one (cleaned by the janitors... god bless those people)
Friday, September 21, 2007
all of this story is fabricated, dont believe any of it. It is made up for the pleasure of my readers.
alcoholism
ok... Your probably worried your an alcoholic, thats cause you are... accept it and lets see what we can crack. You drink too much, sometimes as a chore before you go hit the bars so you can make it in time for happy hour.
so i sit here, listening to some chill tunes. relaxing after some breakfast remenicing on my night of raging out.
last night was rediculous, and i made out with someone far below my standards, and this isnt to talk bad about her looks (although they also werent up to par) but her personality was just lacking. Class 6 (!) clingon with emotional luggage, im not all about that. The only consolation i had was that i was leaving her home town to travel half way around the world. Hopfully I would never run into her again.
You might wonder, "that doesnt make me alcoholic" (although i would argue, along with my father, that consuming any alcoholic beverage makes you an alcoholic, if you wanna debate this one send me a message, i would be happy to debate) In the general sence of things i would have to agree with you. Getting drunk and plowing into a chick doesnt make you a relative alcoholic. You may loose some respect points from your friends or miss out on an oportunity with someone a bit more respectable, but hey, whats done is done. What might push you over the edge to alcoholism iswaking up in a skirt and a tank top and skateboarding three blocks through sydney to wake your 'friends'. Why else would you do such eratic things while still coming off your drunk from the night before?
I make it to my friends apartment, shamefree as far as my appearances of the current day are concerned, and I knock, and knock.
The door opens. "What do you want?" asks Adam in a incoherent groggy voice as he lays himself back down to finish his night's sleep.
"I'm lookin for something" I reply as I rifle through the mess that engulfs the room.
"what are you looking for" pretending to be interested, as best one can at that hour
"don't worry about it" no break in pace
I find the item that was described to me that morning, by my two sweetish sweedish roomates, (just kidding, they are very sweet, p.s. I hope your reading, you'll enjoy the ending) which is what motivated me to do what i did next, delete all the pictures and video! that was taken of last nights adventures.
I made my way home with a bittersweet emotion, pretty happy to have deleated the worst of the evidence, but still upset at myself fo my actions and overall lack of respect for alcohol. This feeling led me to make a phone call, after a bit more proding from my other not-so-sweet roomate, and friend, to my local AA. Luckily this AA was an in-house location and they scared me off the phone right quick. But the moral of the story is have more respect for alcohol than you currently do (if your my friend, otherwise you may have a healthy respect level), your not alcoholic, your a lush, and most importantly of all: "Shit Happens!"
p.s. I would like to say one thing. You can sum up this story, and feel real bad for the girl in this story like this: I got drunk, made out with a chick, and then called AA. I would like to say that she was not the primary reasons behind this but the event at which I decided to call AA. However, I still like the condenced version alot better than the full version.
do's and don't's
Do pick your nose in the shower.
Standards are everywhere, I have individual standards, and, with the help of alcohol, they can be lowered. But beyond individual standards is a dress code. A dress code of life and fitting in. I'm not asking everyone to conform, still be unique but seriously people. I'm asking people who are willing to listen, if your reading you probably fit in anyway. I'm talking about scene kids. I'm talking about people who look like they are going to a theme party in class on monday. Or that fuckin girl who dresses like a cat everyday! I'm talking about bumbs on the street. I'll even extend my view to people who look like they fit in but complain. There one secret to this world, and it comes in a phrase: Get shit done! I dont care what you want, you just gotta do it. You want a fuckin huge house and a yacht? No, you dont need to be a fuckin billionare, you need to budget if thats what your aiming for. You want a job? Your a bumb and complain? From the bottom, I'll help you out. Step 1, beg for money. Step 2, don't by alcohol, buy a haircut and a collar shirt and apply to your local mall for a janitor position or mcdonalds (if the mcdonalds drive thu tellar isnt already outsourced to india (yes people, this is happening, even our precious backup plans are getting outsourced)) Step 3, and possibly the most important, because i garuntee you are at this stage, set a goal. Step 4, like i said before, get shit done. Now obviously you say, "omg fuckhead you dont know what its like to be me its not that easy" I say "stfu newbie, you dont try hard" Maybe im writing this very article because i want to try something new, I want to be a writer and the only way to do that is to start writing about something.
The Leaman guide to throwing a party:
When we consider having a successful party you need to consider many things, 1st and most important, is an ample supply of alcohol (if you plan on charging at the door.) GIRLS, if you dont bring a girl, dont come to my party. It's simple you need lots of girls at your party and music. Come to think of it, just invite everyone you know, make it a theme party, plan some games like "suck and blow" or just pass a pingpong ball around the room with your mouth, play flip cup, make someone go streaking, write on people who pass out. It's all fairly simple, be in the game to have the most fun for yourself and you'll be having a good time.
update (sep 10 07): clean the place up. Facilitate congrication areas.
enough brain storm for today, stay stong world.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Chance Happenings v2.0
Written and occurred March 07
I didn't think my group had it in us to 1-up the "Moke Experience," then again, maybe we haven't. Judge for yourself.
"Blue Mountains 'Camping' Excursion" included 6 people: Jon Leaman (me), Dan Lawless, Adam Connaker, Anneli Dahl(my roomate), Rachel Paeper, and Amy Mulder. It all started in the late morning on Friday. Five of us (Dan excluded because he slept over his bosses house which happened to be in the town where our trek would begin!) did some finishing touches and made it to the train station around noon. So far so good! We miss two trains!!! One of which sat in front of us for 25 minutes.
"Are we sure we need the train on platform 12?" says Amy
"Yes." I say
Turns out I was wrong...
Never-the-less, we make it to Katoomba around 3, and wrestle around with out packs until 5... We make it to the head of the "6 Foot Track" (ironically enough, considering Australia is with the metric system) at 5:30. The "camping" begins!
A beautiful start to our trek down the side of a canyon starts everyone off in a great mood. A very enthused and healthy group, if i do say so. We some some kangaroos... some birds... ants... We make it to the private property we were warned about and keep on trekking, an expected challenge. There were many rolling grassy hills with great views of canyon cliff faces and wildlife. Were still on the private property when we come to the top of a ridge and the light is dwindling. We have a decision to make: 1) Go back 4 or 5 kilometers to a known camping site, risking not finishing the 6 Foot Track in the given time frame. 2) Camp on the private property (not really an option considering there was ample signage warning us not to camp there and a shotgun going off in the distance by a nearby house) or 3) Go on and try to find a camping spot.
*
At this point in the story I am going to take a break and let you know of the pros and cons of how prepared we were as a group
The good:
-water proof matches
-some water
-two nice tents
-3 nice packs
-great food
-great people
The bad:
-two flashlights
-some water
-1 bottle of absinthe
-1 bottle of vodka
-3 bad packs
-no one has actual hiking boots
*
We trek on into the night! Minor debates along the way, and brief stops slow us down but after about 3 or 4 kilometers we find a great campsite. Everything is great. We start a fire, eat some food (not much at all though, we all agreed we weren't that hungry), and drank some drink. I think I can agree we were all a little sloppy, some more than others (I later find out that they banned absinthe in the States because of its alcohol content, not its hallucinogenic qualities, which we didn't experience).
Saturday Morning:
We did, from what i remember, split the sleeping 3 and 3, so needless to say, waking up next to 4 people was a surprise. Regardless, we wake from our sleep to the sound of about 1,000 middle-aged to aged people running by. A marathon! I discover however, before I even manage my way out of the tent that I am so crowded because someone got sick in the other tent. Unlucky for us considering much of our food was left in the downhill corner... I'm working off my sleepy eyes as I peer into the other tent.
"I think it rained last night" says Dan
"No, you just puked" I say
All over our food, a sleeping bag, and various other gear. A rough start to the day but the marathon brought new high hopes to the team. With each passing marathon runner needing to pass through a three person gauntlet of double high fives, both ourselves and the runners could not stop smiling. We (dan) didn't work out of our morning troubles all that easily though. I'll use this instance of Saturday morning Dan:
Many runners are running by, some much older, some as young as 30. As far as the 6 foot track is concerned, we've just begun our "camping." So needless to say these runners need to find allot more in themselves if your going to make it though this marathon. Which for the most part, we do a great job at boosting there spirits with great cheers and high fives. Two older people make it near our campsite and one gets passed, a decent spot to pass because there was some extra room to make it around, I barley noticed he got passed when i hear "You just got passed by that old guy! Hurry up! Catch up!" We couldn't believe our ears! It was a low point for dan, but he worked out of it when he got into giving smelly high fives to runners (what do you expect, we made him clean it)
Okay, the runners pass and we begin our trek of Saturday. We need to cover alot of ground to keep on schedule even with the last nights progress. We make it over an awesome bridge about a kilometer down the track, pause for some recovery, and continue. My knee is hurting me and Rachel has two blisters the size of half-dollars (American half-dollars, but if you know anything, Australia doesnt even have half-dollars, or quarters, which changes the drinking game 'Quarters' to 'Fifths' with a similar sized twenty cent piece). Not 2 more kilometers down the track I decide I cannot go on. Its a decision of limp painfully 14 or so kilometers forward, or 6 kilometres back. Me and Anneli split from the group with the bad tent and some food and some water. So the story makes a split for the first time. I will name each group now for easy reference. Anneli and I will be group '4x4.' Dan, Adam, Amy, and Rachel will be group 'I-Hike-Too-Much'. (Keep in mind the point of view of this note because i know i will get shit for that one)
'I-Hike-Too-Much' leaves '4x4' behind at a camping area we made it to as the entire group. They took one of the tents, 2 of the good backpacks (i stole a good one cause of my injury), and most of the water. They keep on trekking with full backpacks up the steepest part of the entire 6 Foot Track. I wasn't there but ill try to deal it justice. The sun was incredibly hot, if any of them thought they were thirsty yesterday, they would soon realize why the term came about. One of them had bad blisters (I am talking the size of golf balls, from wearing sandals hiking), two of them had shitty backpacks, one of them had a hangover, and all of them were thirsty. A decision needed to be made: 1) Go on, risking running out of water 2) Turn back, knowing they could make it home safely by Sunday afternoon, probably short of water. Obviously they went on, but the decision became more serious as their water levels fell. As the water level fell, so did the moral of the group. Everyone was fighting and everyone was very angry with one another. I wish i was there.
'I-Hike-Too-Much' leaves '4x4' behind at a camping area we made it to as the entire group. '4x4' sits for awhile, I'm tired and sore, and what I could read from Anneli was that she was just eager to get going, in whatever direction we chose. I as a man in a 4x4 if he knows the fastest way out and he informs me that it is a 6 km hike in the back the direction we came, i didn't want to do that. I would have pushed for a ride from the man if he didn't seem like such a large dick, so there at the camp site team '4x4' waited. about 1.5 hr pass before things get alil interesting. A line of 4x4's are crossing the river, 4 of them to be exact. The first 3 make it no problem, then a stock jeep wrangler gets stuck deep, with water pouring in they do all they can to get it out. With allot of effort they end up pulling it out with a broken winch used as a straight cable. Just as the jeep catches free it jumps forward and they all celebrate the success. Little to the jeep owner's (or anyone for that matter) knowledge as he jostled free the cable became loose and got wrapped around the front tire. This we actually did know but the fact that it pinched the brake cable, releasing all the fluid and cutting the line, was a surprise. We didn't ask him for a ride. We did ask Steve and David for a ride though. They were both very friendly and compassionate with our situation. We head off down the trail. Little did we know that from the very camp site that both groups split to the end of the track was all along a 4x4 trail. We we're going to make it to the camp site that was scheduled, what a surprise. After a short drive with some anticipation, we reach the other group. Waving blindly we see the empty greeting of our other group. After they realize it is us, however, they completely change there expressions. We stop briefly, pick up all their packs, leave them with a nice bag and some water and completely reverse their attitudes. We made one decision easy for them: Go on!
Our reunion was short lived with one goal in mind, meet at the far campsite.
Team 'I-Hike-Too-Much' found the rest of the trail easier than what they had just done (the steep with the packs). They also found good adventures, on what seemed to be just a basic off road trail from inside a 4x4. They managed to get a ride to a setup campsite that was only setup for the marathon by a fire crew of 4x4's. At the site they were greeted with an abundance of water and fruit! They trekked on! (at this point it might start becoming clear why I put camping in quotes in the beginning of the story) So they trek on and eat their fruit to their content and are having fun and joking. The 4x4 that picked them up caught up with them again and offered to bring them to a muding spot for some unexpected fun. I personally went thought this mud whole on my 4x4 cruise down the trail, and I assure you it was the best 4x4 spot on the entire 6 Foot Track. So they stop and are watching these guys go through the mud whole when the driver, making conversation with team 'I-Hike-Too-Much' offers to let Dan drive. Before the driver has a chance to reconsider letting a 20 yr-old stranger from the States with a 'RECKLESS' t-shirt on Dan is inside the truck with Rachel. As the story is told Dan's run through the mud whole was one of the best ones of the day, good shit! So they leave their friends again and head off toward the campsite.
Team '4x4' arrives at the camp site shortly after leaving 'I-Hike-Too-Much.' We have 2 main missions, and 1 sub mission. Find a campsite and set-up camp (check). Find a spot for a campfire. (this campsite was campfire free, bummer) Find beer. (not reasonable, but we head tward the main road to see what we can find). We leave all of the packs in the tent and head out tward the road with small hopes of finding anything to even waste time on. At the road, the only thing in sight is a campsite across the road, maybe they know something. As it turns out they did know somthing, something about being awesome (ill get into this more later but basically they offered me a ride the next day to our final destination, the Jenoval Caves) So while we failed our sub goal our two main goals, and the answer to the mornings delema of hiking, was taken care of. We go back to wait at out other campsite, where we will be meeting up with our group. We see a small water holder of collected rain water next to the other occupants of the camp.
"Is this water drinkable?"
"Yeah, but I would toss a iodine tablet in it, do you have one?"
"No"
They gave me enough iodine for 8 liters of water, an overload considering. We chat and they get some of our story and after 10 minutes, i was treated with icy hot (applied by one of the nurses there), given anti-inflammatory, given pain reliever, and given two ace bandages! Life sucks eh?
We eventually all meet up just after sunset and we all let each other know of our adventures. Eager to set up fire and eat we quickly set off to the other site. When we arrived we set up, got the fire going (a very weak fire at that) to cook outr foil packs (very good ones at that). Our older ItaliAustalian friends noticed out plight and offered fire wook, and brought over some nicely started logs. They also gave us apples, off of Marty's tree, and marshmallows (heaven clouds) that tasted better than any marshmallow found in the states, and cripex's (candy bars). We ate our foil packs, or beans, and our hot dogs, then set off to bed with our alarms set for early, we got invited to breakfast!
Alarm at 6am, I go and check how things are going. Now from this point untill we leave them is a blur of undescribable awe. Marty tought 4 of us how to go mushroom picking and how to avoid the 'happy' mushrooms. Also how to cook and prepare them over an open fire, part of his bi-annual trip to this campsite. We each got two breakfast sandwiches, one ham egg and cheese, one barbeque and steak! We all tasted Marty's fresh fruit from his garden, three different types of prickly pair, more apples, and figs. We all counldnt be there at all times so some of us missed some fruit, while others missed the cake and other goodies (another bag of heaven clouds!). Our goodbyes were sad but sweet (not just because of the residual taste left in our mouthes from the amazing fruit) becasue before we left them we got the cards of Marty and another one of the amazing ItaliAustalians whose name escapes me, we plan on calling them for a reunion dinner. So we pile into two cars and they drive us to the caves. Amazing! Some of us went just over the rails into some unmarked caves, others hiked to devil's lookout to get an airial view of the cave's mouth. All-in-all it was a great, near end, to our 'camping' weekend. We met up with the nurses and chatted with them for awhile and were actualy on the same but home. We made it back to Katoomba and our own apartments in time to even get a small amount of studying in before our test the next day (which we talked of missing because if we hadn't made it to our final destination by 3pm it left without us).
So..
-if the runners hadn't come through we wouldnt have seen the 4x4 drivers.
-if i hadn't hurt my knee we (all of us) wouldn't have made it to the last campsite
-if the trail wasnt a 4x4 trail we wouldnt have gotten there packs, and therefore wouldnt have all made it to the last campsite
-if either of the two groups werent at the last 2 campsites this note wouldnt be as good, and i wouldnt have made it to the caves
-if we didnt split up, we would have never found the other campsite
Life is GOOD!
(to those of you who know, if i missed anything let me know)
Chance Happenings aka Moke Experience
Written and occurred February 07
Warning: This note may cause feelings of jelousy.
I woke up early to the rocking of a boat and the smell of breakfast. The first mate on "Ron of Argyle" is an amazing Italian cook and he never falls short of amazing expectations. The day went as usual, no one needed much more than a smile and a swimmer.
Our trip ran to an end and we celebrated with pictures and happy times. We got off the transport bus back to town with an afternoon free and nothing to do. We rented a MOKE, a vehicle similar to a souped up go-kart (max speed ~85kph) with the suggestion to check out some falls not far from town. So we, this is where the name of this note comes from, synced our clocks, because we needed to return the MOKE by 830, and we needed to leave at 1130. So we made it to the falls and some of us climbed up the rock face into the waterfall, and just Dan made it to the top of the 45ft+ cliff (where i actually witnessed some Lawless hesitation) and proceeded to jump. Later (and actually a few times earlier) we learned that many people get injured and die every year from that exact spot. So we make it back just in time and got everything situated and headed to go get some pizza with our mates, excited to share the news of our afternoon shower in a waterfall. Little to our anxious eyes did we notice that 20:20 is actually 8:30, and not 11:30 (i wont mention names). So were worried to say the least. We make it to our meeting spot to see our friends getting ready with not much rush. (the bus shouldn't even be in town anymore let alone people not running) Why? We only traveled, pretty much, due north but luckily for us Sydney doesn't celebrate daylight savings time. It was actually only 7:50 at this point but unfortunately we didn't have time for pizza. A group of girls, with there tiny stomachs, handed us an untouched pizza!!! Free dinner. Everything above cost the four of us $20 each. (Australian!!!) Lucky day, lucky us!
Another College Essay
This one is my favorite that I dug up, the Bubble Gum one was good but I mean common... I sent it to Lowell.
I am Jonathan William Leaman. This is my name. This is my accomplishment. Not many people call me this though. I think it is because there are too many syllables, but my mom does not mind saying it sometimes to get my attention. Usually I am called by a nickname, like Jon or Johnny, that my friends give me. I like my name and my nicknames because I never pick them. They were given to me, either by my friends or my family, and I feel I have earned them.
The first nickname I can remember having is Johnny. This was the perfect nickname for me. I like it because it sounds a little immature and filled with trouble, but not the bad trouble, the kind of trouble when you are curious about the world and never stop at no. This was me. While being Johnny I lived, learned, and never looked back. Learned my basic morals and filled my number one need of having fun. I was in Cub Scouts because my dad encouraged it and played soccer for a recreation team because my mom liked it when I played, but I did not mind because I was having fun anyway.
Jon. This was a very new idea for me. I had always been called Johnny. When I was called Jon for the first time I felt intrigued and new. It was when I entered an optional aerial contest through my school with my best friend. We did not need to do this project but we did, and I learned a lot from this project. One, it is highly possible to learn outside of school and I had been doing it my whole life, and two, first place is not always the best reward. When we were awarded second place for our project, my father, who had witnessed our project coming together, came over to me and said “Congratulations Jon.” That very moment I felt like a new person. I knew that when I grow up people will call me Jon. I started writing it on my papers because I was proud of it. I started living as Jon, and fell into my track, and my place. I felt that Jon was Johnny but more mature and more individual. I found a new click of friends I liked, but not because they were “cool” but because they liked who I was and I thought they were all very funny. I started playing soccer competitively and picked up a few new hobbies because they looked interesting and fun for me. I stayed in Cub Scouts to become a Boy Scout, and now a Life Scout on my path to Eagle. I think Jon is a leader and more mature than Johnny. I like being called Jon.
The next nickname I was called was Leaman. Not everyone can call me Leaman. I think there are about twenty other kids who call me Leaman. The number is pretty specific because it is for my soccer team. You might say it is because it is on the back of my shirt, but I disagree. Our soccer team is different and is like a new community. We all fit in no matter how “cool” we are in school, and no one is hated. We all have names that I never hear them called in school or at home but we have them because we are a family, a team. We act as one, we all lead and we all follow. I am Leaman, and we are the Blue Knights. When people call me Leaman, I feel respected and needed because each one on the team needs to be a leader to make the team what it is.
People earn names, and names are more than just a nickname, they are titles. Johnny, Jon, Leaman, and all my other names are given to me because of who I am, not what I look like or how much money I have. I like my nicknames, and my nicknames fit me. With a unique look on life and an optimistic view of the future, I would like to request you accept Jon Leaman as part of the freshman class of 2004.
By: Jonathan William Leaman
update: I wonder if there is any significance as to why I chose the name Jonny for my blog...?
Burn Cruise aka Wackey Jim's Tour
We were in Byron Bay and I woke up earlier than i would have on my own the morning of this ridiculous adventure. Before i could really tell my right from my left i was riding a bus with some alright music and a ridiculous hippy headed toward Nimbin. So were listening to some pretty good music, and before each new song he intros it with a little speech and then usually the lyrics and song portray the feelings he was talking about. Usually he talks about the town were going though, or the rotaries were about to hit, or the good attitudes we should carry with us for the remainder of the tour. Good stuff!
We reach Nimbin. We all pile out of the funky painted bus and walk toward the main strip toward a place known as "The Rainbow Cafe." Little do we know how easy it is, despite being illegal to actually obtain weed cookies.
A quick timeout and an intro to Nimbin. Nimbin is an ultra hippy town where the pretty much sell weed on the streets (and in the back of shops and a the town's 't tiny museum). I personally had not smoked since 10 months before. And the minimum amount of time anyone else with me was 3 months, so we were gonna get high if we wanted to.
So we get some cookies, eat them, and wander around the town for the hour and a half that we have. Some funny things happened to some people. I am pretty sure Sara bought sugar cookies, thinking that if she winked at the lady behind the counter they would become weed cookies. No just kidding, but some of the cookies were pretty sure had minimal weed in it. But the highlight of Nimbin was when we were all ready to leave and someone needed to go back and get another pack of cookies just so he wouldn't run out later. So we, as a collective bus including the driver, decide to drive the bus down and meet him. Needless to say, we had already predicted a reaction similar to the one we got, but i couldn't have asked for a better one. We turn the bus around and head toward the main strip. We see victor and he sees us. He is waving at us with a concerned face, slowly walking into the road. As we get closer to him he starts waving a bit faster, and walking a bit brisker. As we pass Victor breaks out into a full blown sprint, I've never seen him run this fast. The entire bus is laughing ridiculously hard. I'm laughing hard but its a funny laugh because its one of those laughs where with each beat of my laugh I'm sort of feeling embarrassed at the same time. "Should i stop?" "No!" But I was prepared to feel uncomfortable when Victor gets on the bus and everyone is laughing at him. Anyway, the bus pulls over to the side by a small station and opens its doors, with victor no more than 3 strides behind. Victor busts into the bus and shouts with victory "Yeeaa!" The entire bus keeps laughing, now with victor, and we all cheer. Good day at Nimbin.
For the highlight of this Cruise through Nimbin:
Were all feeling a little funny when our driver, Doug, breaks the music with his voice, "Gravity is an amazing thing, when you can feel the gravity".. The song he int erupted went something like this "Don't fuck with a mountain, cause you ll get fucked up" So with his timing, I didn't think he was that ridiculous, but ridiculous none the less. So our driver is ranting some high speech when we turn onto a paved, 1.5 lane road with a huge drop in the beginning then a bunch of ups and downs for the rest of the road. Were at the top and Doug says "All we need is a little luck, a good attitude, and some synchronicity!" Doug blasts a Pink Floyde song and accelerates down this massive hill. I'm pretty sure i speak for everyone when i was wondering if this was a good business decision as far as steady income goes, dead people don't pay! Either way, we were all excited. The music is good and we stop descending and start climbing again. The first crest, the music explodes as our eyes get bombarded with surreal landscape. This is allot to take in, especially when were on some cookies... So we make it to the second crest and again the timing of the music is just ridiculous. Four full peaks we go over in time with the song, beautiful! The road mellows down along with the song and we all sit content for the rest of the song. But as we come to the end of the road, there is a T intersection ahead, we slow down and with us, the song. We come to a stop at this intersection at the precise moment the song ends.....
How do things like this happen?
Silly Aussy Drunks
Okay, this is an Australia story. Its a good story even though i was sober, but i think it still counts as raging.
Lawless and I and a few of our States friends were walkin' around taking pictures of the Sydney Oprah house and the bridge, i already had a few pictures from a couple nights earlier, but the pictures also doubled as my only memory of the night. I needed some better pictures. We were also with Victor and Adam, and some of the pictures we got were amazing. So we headed home through the Australian Film festival (our only route to the city)
So we walk home through the festival and this guy asks dan for a cigarette.
"No" says dan
"Wanker" says guy
Dan flicks off guy with one of his smiles.
The guy starts walking toward us but drops his bottle of unknown substance.
We all laugh alil and I laugh a little extra loud to help warm things up... I donno why.
Guy picks up the bottle and runs towards dan. Dan sees the kid, dan ducks, kid does somersault over dan. The guy stands up and (like I said before, this guy makes a few mistakes in dealing with this situation, one is doing anything violent initially, because he is stupid drunk, but still functional. His second mistake is this: If you get angry at someone and it escilates and you end up swinging a glass bottle at some kids head, you better be so angry and filled with ruckus and rage that your opponent is bombarded and dies or something intence). Sorry, so this guy stands up and started walking very casually toward dan. I've seen dan street fight once before and this was an identical situation (except for the fact this guy deserved to get hit in the head). So dan, at the appropriate moment, brings his fist from his waist to the other side of the kids jaw in a violent motion. The kid drops backwards and his head whips against the stone walkway with a sound of a watermelon from the second story. Not good, the kids eyes just rolled back. Whew! So we walk away trying to gather what happened when some other hooligan jumps onto dans back. Dan, not knowing weather creepo #2 has a glass bottle or worse, covers his head and drops. I decide it is my turn to help the cause. I grab this tools collar and start teeing off. Apparently, dan struggled free quite easily and got the same idea. Double fists of fury! Good fun! Hooligan#2 struggles free as the sound of men yelling at us and running toward us. They are cops and before they can get right between us, the kid spits toward me and dan. He misses. Dan starts to begin to explain what happened to the officers when they cut him off "get out of here" dan keeps talking as me and our friends pull him away and we all celebrate with stories of conquer justice and heros.
Oh yea, hooligan #1 never moved from his resting place on the stone.
Some shower thoughts.
First off, I think it is a good idea to goto bed with boxers. Those of you who know me will instantly think "yeah cause then josh wont have to see your balls and hairy ass. Valid point, but i dont think he minds. I went to bed last night without boxers on. It's all cool until you have an itch...
As Confucius would say "Goto bed wif itchy bum, wake up wif smelly finga!"
Yeah, but I don't want a smelly finger! So what is one to do? You could easily put on some boxers before bed, but those lay across the room and out of reach. Fortunate for me i have invented something, more of a technique. I call it the "Running Man." If you are fortunate enough to have a hairy crack, you may be able to pull this one off. Simply lay on your side and with your bottom half, and top if your really trying to get a deep itch, and go for a nice walk, or run, or sprint... whatever works. enjoy.
A vibrating dick would be sweet! It was disheartening to find out they made "cock rings" that do just this. Nay I want my cock to vibrate! But i dont want surgery.... so i invented another technique: 'The Hummdinger'
I believe, through the adverse side effects, that this move alone is enough for me to start a cult following. What you do here is, with some practice, hum extremely loud and high pitched for extended periods of time. With much practice you will be able to hum with circular breathing achieving so much vibrating that we might abandon pussy all together.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Bubble Gum
I've found alot of old papers on my computer and stumbled upon all my college application essays! Here is one i sent to lowell (i got in!)
I am Jonathan William Leaman, I chew bubble gum.
Bubblegum chewing is a skill I have. It sounds simple at first but a lot of planning goes into chewing bubblegum all the time. Right away you need to buy bubble gum. This requires one thing: drive. I have drive! This drive causes me to do a lot of things. Last year actually, I had the drive to get a car (no pun) and I worked all summer to save money so I could buy a car. So I saved all my allowance, 5 cents per week, just so I could make my weekly bike ride all the way to the corner store. This is drive and physical work. I continue to do physical work today. I play soccer and do track, both of which are very rewarding challenging.
I remember the first time my dad took me to the grocery store instead of my mom. Every time someone would comment on my cuteness or how awesome I was at tying my shoes my dad would make me talk to them, this was scary at first but I needed to get used to it because I needed to talk to the old lady behind the counter every week. This helped me with my social skills. You would be surprised how often you use people skills. When I go to Boy Scouts we need to present ourselves, not only in from of our peers, but the leaders as well. I also use my people skills in school; I have to deal with my peers all day.
Some of my peers pick on me because of my bubblegum habit. They poke fun when I tell them I am trying to break the world record of how many sticks of gum I can eat in my lifetime; I am keeping track of it. This helps with courage, persistence, and also organization. It isn’t that east to do something where you know you will get ragged on for later. Once I had to do a skit with my Boy Scouts in my schools auditorium. I knew I would be picked on for being a Boy Scout but I knew I had to do it. I don’t think these people know what Boy Scouts are about. Persistence helps me excel everywhere, especially in math. I am in Calculus AP now strictly because of persistence. My school didn’t think I could start in Algebra 2 so they put me in Algebra 1 freshman year, but the next year I showed them. I took two math classes and passed both with very good grades. In Calculus persistence helps too with allowing me to finish the problems, they get much longer when you get to higher classes. Organization is also a good skill I use in my everyday life, from planning my day to scheduling my time well and to planning a camping trip to Maine.
I am Jonathan William Leaman and I chew bubble gum, thank you.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
A Great Night Down Undah
Here is a story I've been meaning to write down. This occured probably in January 07.
A Great Night. So me dan (ill introduce this kid in another post but basically he lives up to his last name) and emelie, a sweedish roomate we had in australia sit down with one mission: get wasted (or at least thats what the outcome of the night told me).
Already drunk we decide to pound some beers. emelie makes me and dan feel like school girls, regarless. We set off from the house, leaving it empty. Our first stop is the play ground 1 block away (were heading about 8 blocks away to side bar). Dan instantly climbs around the playground, we wear the schoolboy shoes well. With some brief word, were ready, or most of us. Dan is sleeping on the wooden platform. In retrospect, I would have done nothing but find duct tape, tape him down, and goto bed satisfied. So the rest of us, emelie and i, make it to sidebar where we go straight to the bar and order shots. I'm in deep at this point and things are starting to go brown (see: brown out #4). I can't remember much of this bar experience, or the walk home but i do remember this: I think we kissed and I remeber her being mad at me on the walk back.
So, as it turns out, she tried to make out with me, but i just wasnt plowing in that direction that night (see: plowing), which probably caught her off gaurd considering my past behavior with her, and most definatly fueled the argument on the walk back. But the kicker is this: I got back home and the house was empty cause I emelie couldnt even walk with me she was so angry at me and dan was still at the playground. Dan woke up to a sore back, emelie woke up to someone on their way to work, and I woke up to the second half of this story! Success!
General Cleaning
dun dun duunnnn! my first name drop: Josh aka Sloshy Joshy.
My most recent story that I would like to share about josh: General Cleaning
"Josh your helping clean today and your not getting out of it"
Josh agreed but argued he cleaned alot this summer (i can't argue that but since ive lived with him its been no cleaning)
At first it was awkward confronting josh, but after awhile it was easy to laugh about it and make it publically known (he'll love this publicity).
"Okay" josh says "I'll clean the kitchen"
what the fuck was he thinking, i have no idea, but thats the worst part. I was going to task him to the coffee table or brishing his teeth! but i wasnt their to argue, but pretty much helped set in stone that he clean the kitchen.
"Alright josh, you got it"
after some laughs between me and perry about how he has the worst job now he is trying to worm is way out of some of it
"Okay, but i need to goto work first, so ill clean after"
"alright but your cleaning it today"
"Okay, but when I am at work you can do, like, the general cleaning, and I'll do the rest when I get back"
"Okay, but you have to do the general cleaning in the living room for us"
To this day (one day later) we don't really know what general cleaning is.... when i confronted him i got out of him "the big stuff, and i can do the detailed work"
Good stuff. Stay tuned for "Saco Adventures"
Numero Uno
This is the first blog. For the first month or so much of the content I post will be backdated and possibly very random. (if you get really into the backdated stuff, you should try to track down my laptop, it has the content from my two years of joints - god bless this universe).
My posts, if i can try to forecast its future, will be composed much of experiences i would like to share with people who read this (I also advite you to shoot me an e-mail if you enjoy or would like to comment on any of my anecdotes). Other posts might consist of me racking my brain to try to figure something out. Other posts will hopfully enduldge in the depths of my brain bringing out more horrible grammer and spelling and reasons for things like n-bate, general cleaning, celtic classical, and other obscurities come about.
Today I feel sad. When my mom was giving me shit today, I got so upset I gave her the address to my blog so she might be better able to understand my plight.
(I stole that content from somoene, but its still quality.
I'm begining to worry that this style of writing may have negative affects to the traffic to my site... rss feed my site if you like it.
So today (and yesterday) I have been working on getting my (terk's) xbox to do what i want it to do: go online or somethign, i don't even really know what i want it to do, but its not doing it. So I get it working alot better than it was before and I go to test it's limits (not very far reaching) and i get this error "Error. Success." And the ony think i can click is Okay. Fuckin great. That did really sum up my experience with the xbox though. "Great story jon!"
Well fuck you, ill give you another post to make up for htis weak one. (and maybe a backdated one if your lucky)
Serving size of Fla-Vor-Ice "1 pop" Can you OD on Fla-Vor-Ice pops?
-Inspired by Perry
What have we learned:
rss feed this and comment to promote more content and.... research pop o.d.