Vegas Finale

I need to wrap up some of my final stories before they escape my head, and unfortunately since it has come down to a Friday post, they are going to be abbreviated so that this one doesn’t go on for 2000 words. 

Porn Slappers-  If you haven’t been to Vegas, you don’t know what I am talking about.  If you have been, then you probably feel the same way I do about all of the illegal immigrants doing their best three slap to get a picture of a girl that is dying to keep you company for the evening for only 500/hr.  I want to go so many directions with this, but nay time. 

I don’t usually feel the want to get inside an organization to see what it is like, but for some reason, I would love to see a Porn Slapper Org chart.  You know, somewhere there is a high roller kingpin who runs all of this, and it would be interesting to meet the many levels of illegal douche in between.  How does one get promoted to the next level.  Is it dependent upon success?  Success can only be achieved by the amount of cards you get into the hands of passerbys.  To do this, one must achieve the unreal “four slap” which in itself could possibly cause injury.  The “three slap” is very rare, but to hit the “four slap” and you have to automatically move from being a porn slapper to one who bikes food and replacement porn cards.  Lately slapping is less found and has been replaced with the less noisy nail flick. It’s easy to see who are “old school” by those who stick to the slap vs. the flick.  I would never take the porn from a “flicker”. 

Vegas for March Madness

It was cool. It wasn’t quite as cool as what everyone describes.  The only difference between Vegas for March Madness and any non March weekend is that you don’t have to wait in line at the sportsbook to place bets and they aren’t full of fat guys with the random girlfriend sprinkled in who you know would rather be a sun burst covered woman on one of the porn cards than sitting in the sportsbook watching basketball game after basketball game with her husband/boyfriend.  The only good thing about being in Vegas during March is the weather.  It was right at 80 degrees every single day, which is perfect for walking around and enjoying the pool. 

Chicago Cub Gamblers

I am a huge Cub fan.  The Cubs were in Vegas for their final two Spring Training games.  While eating in a Restaurant at the MGM on Thursday night, Schief said “It’s Carlos Zambrano.”  Schief and I have a history of saying, “Hey it’s Michael Bolton” upon seing a balding man with a mullet when in fact it really isn’t Michael Bolton.  So, when he said “It’s Carlos Zambrano” I turned around and saw someone that looked like Zambrano.  After doing a doubletake, it really was Z.  He went over and talked to a table of two guys that we assumed in the MLB jackets to be umpires.  After we left and were heading back to the hotel room, we walked past Alfonso Soriano.  By the time we made it back down to the tables to play, Soriano was sitting at a Blackjack table with Henry Blanco.  Then Therio and Lieber came down.  The next day we bumped into Aramis Ramirez and Felix Pie.  In my drunken stupor I did not approach them as my friends had since I was certifiably retarted.  All I will say is that I wasn’t surprised to see them lose their Friday grame 2-10 based on the hour at which many were still in the casino.  If I had any money on the game, I would have likely begged them to go to bed and prepare for the game the next day. 

White Pride at the MGM Pool

There was a guy at the MGM pool that had “White Pride” Tatooed to his stomach. I swear to God.  I don’t need to add anything to this story. 

MGM Pool Rules Outsmarted

The MGM doesn’t allow you to bring in your own beer.  Somehow the first day we got a case in and pissed some people off because within a few hours of getting our first case in the pool, they were checking all bags and denied our second case when we finished off the first one.  So, the next day Schief conceived a plan.  When we would go through the security checkpoint, the one lady checking coolers would pull you aside and look to see if you have any alcohol in your cooler.  We filled a cooler with Ice and bottled water.  My friend B. led the way with the cooler full of water.  Two of us filled plastic bags with cases of beer and draped towels over them to make it appear that we were only carrying bags in.  As we approached the security lady, she bit and pulled B. aside to check his cooler while the other two of us whisked on by with our grocery bags full of beer.  It was truly a perfectly executed plan and the fact that we had to create a scheme to beat the system is sad in itself.  Hey, if they didn’t charge 7.00 per beer at the pool, it wouldn’t have even been an issue.  When you are putting back 10-15 beers at the pool, a buck a beer is a lot better than 7.00. 

Dried Squid

For the record this is not the same brand that Ben bought while in Vegas, but it looks similar to the bag that he opened in our hotel room.  Upon opening it, it smelled like someone had just killed 1 million squid in our room.  The smell actually took on the form of sound and I heard the dried squid moaning as the stench oozed out of the bag.  It truly smelled like a bag of asses.  Ben tried to eat one and couldn’t do it.  He threw it in our garbage can, and we immediatly asked him to put it in the garbage by the elevator.  If you ever have the itch to snack on something and see the dried squid hanging nicely next to the beef jerkey as it did in Vegas, go for the Jerky. 

I still want to hit on the topic of Bottle Service at Body English and Pai Gow Poker, but have gone way too long.  I will try and wrap this up this weekend. 

Happy Friday and have a great weekend!

Filed under: Cubs, bachelor party, bag of asses, beer, drunk, fish, smelly, stink

Have you ever had water in your basement?

I was asked this question by my manager last Friday night.  Let me tell a quick back story before I get into mine. 

One of my managers had the major plumbing pipe rupture in his crawlspace causing what he explained to be a river of 13″ deep shit in his shoulder high crawlspace.  The crawlspace is almost as big as the entire house and was the result of a 40 person party that he had hosted where the amount of sewage usage caused his sewage pipe to clog near the sewer backing everthing up that had been sent down the pipe from this huge party, braking pipes and filling the crawlspace with nothing but nastiness.  Add that with every drop of water from the dishwasher/showers/washing machines and you have a soapy river of shit, none the less.  He had joked last week about having to call in a Hazmat team.  It may have not been a Hazmat team, but anyone that has to go into a home to remove a river of soapy shit could be called such. 

While leaving the office on Friday, I asked my manager how the removal process went, and he asked me the question, “Have you ever had water in your basement?”  This simple little question launched me back to many childhood memories.  One or two of which I have to explain since thinking back at my ripe age of 31 made me realized just how fucked up it was.  Try and bear with me while I type out my weird memories as a child. 

“Yes…now that I think about it, I did live in a house with water in the basement” was my answer. 

I went on to explain that when I was in 6th grade my mother had moved myself, my older brother and my younger brother into a house in Lincoln, IL.  This was the fifth house we had lived in during my 6th grade year of school. 

This house was right on 5th street.  One of the main drags of Lincoln if there is such a thing.  I recall that the house did have water in the basement.  At the time, being 12 and all, having water in the basement didn’t seem like such a big deal.  I never understood why we had water in the basement.  But at all times, there was at least a good 12-18 inches depending on rainfall.  Sometimes it would swell upwards to 2-3 feet.  I could open the basement door and judge how high the water was based on the number of stairs that was covered in water.  Usually the second to last stair would be right at the water level.  Sometimes when it was raining the fourth and fifth stair would be covered.  I wasn’t allowed to go down there.  But I did. 

At the top of the stairs was two different pairs of thigh high rubber boots that the landlord would wear when he would go downstairs.  The weird thing was that many of the basement level windows had cracks or were broken.  The funniest thing is that we had creatures that lived in the water.  You could see tadpoles swimming around.  Frogs eventually developed in the basement.  As I thought back, I remember thinking how cool it was to be able to open the door to the basement and see rows of frogs chilling on the steps.  I would take one step onto the wooden steps and all of them would go leaping into the water to swim away.  I remember thinking that maybe when I went fishing that I could bring home the fish I caught and let them live in my basement with the frogs. 

The basement was filled with old jarred food.  Someone who had lived in the home at some point was into pickling vegetables and fruits.  It all looked gross to me. 

Once my mother had me go down there with her in the dark.  I held the flashlight while she was changing fuses in the electrical box.  Wow.  There is nothing like standing in knee high water while swapping out fuses in the electrical box. 

One other time, and this is my favorite, my mother and I went down to try and see why the sump pump wasn’t removing the water.  We both put on a set of boots and waded our way to the other end of the basement.  The sump pump was a good 6-8 inches covered with water, so my mother had to reach down to fiddle with the electrical cord.  Something happened and bubbles started coming out of the sump pump.  As the bubbles hit the top of the water, smoke came out of the bubbles, meaning something bad was about to happen.  My mother looked at me, and as if she said it in slow motion, screamed “RUUUUUUNNNNNN!” with the most horrific look on her face.  By the time I had a chance to react she was already on her way back to the stairs.  As I turned around and began to run as fast as I could in knee high water, I failed to notice the 6 inch wide rusted ceiling support and I ran straight into the pole head first, causing it to knock me nearly unconscious.  I fell straight backwards into the water.  For the first time I had been dunked in the basement water.  My mother came back and grabbed me to pull me to safety.  Apparently she thought that we could outrun being electricuted by the sump pump.  I had a nice little bump right in the middle of my forehead for a good week to remind me why it’s not a good idea to go down into the basement. 

We moved out of the house not long after that.  I don’t know if it had anything to do with the pond in our basement. 

Man, I had a fucked up childhood.  I don’t know if I know anyone that had wild frogs living in their basement. 

Filed under: confused, creepy, fish, memories, stupid, train wreck, weird, work

Tell me about the rabbits, George!

Yesterday I promised to continue what was a wacky Thanksgiving, but I have to put that on hold to talk about one of the dumbest things I have done to date.  This story will involve some back tracking so I will do my best to try and make sense of it all. 

Last night at 9:30pm I found myself walking through a huge field across from my house towards a lake in shorts, flip flops, and a jacket.  

This lake is purely for retention purposes and has a nice little paved path that goes around it for biking, running, walking…blading…whatever it is that healthy people do around scenic bodies of water.  Any time that I am walking to the lake in the night being guided only by stars something bad is about to happen.  As I left for this particular trip to the lake, I was met with a “be careful Tony Soprano” by my wife as she held the door for me on my way out. 

Rewind to last January.  I have just finished celebrating my first Christmas in my new neighborhood.  My neighbors are throwing their dead and dry christmas trees out for what I will later find out was the only pick up day that my village had arranged.  Since the pickup day was held in conjunction with garbage day, I assumed that the garbage man took the trees.  So, a week or so later when we finally got around to taking the fire hazard out of the house, I dragged it out to the road with the garbage containers anticipating that the tree would magically disappear like the garbage does each and every Tuesday morning.  Upon hitting my driveway at 9:00pm that particular tuesday evening, I was shocked to see that the garbage was gone, but the tree remained.  I started to panick since I now had to figure some way to dispose of this tree.  So, I went inside the house and put on gloves because the needles were sharp enough to use in the event I wanted to inject tree sap straight into my arm or to remove any splinters from my finger.  I suddenly had the genius idea to dispose of the tree by dumping it in the lake.  Somehow I had convinced myself that I would be doing the fish a favor by creating some sort of habitat.  I dragged the tree across the street towards the lake.  As I started to drag it, I realized that it was leaving behind a trail of needles.  The needles were especially obvious because of the white snow that was canvasing the tree drag pattern.  Anyone walking by that had no clue what had happened could easily see that a tree had been dragged across the street and out into the field.  So, I picked up the tree and started carrying it through the field in the freaking cold.  The snow was about 8-10 inches deep, so getting to the lake carrying a tree was no picnic.  By the time I had made it far enough that no one would be able to see the tree dragging marks, I dropped the tree and continued to drag it to the lake.  By the time I had arrived, I was horrified to see that the lake was frozen over. You would think that it was cold, and there was snow, that it should have been obvious.  But, we had just exited a very warm week where many of the lakes around my subdivision were completely thawed out.  I could even tell that this lake wasn’t truly frozen, but just a light sheet of ice covering the top.  I thought that the tree would easily break through and sink to the bottom.  So, I prepared to do my impression of the Worlds strongest man competation and started spinning with the tree and I chucked it as high and far as I could.  When it hit the ice, it didn’t break through and it continued to slide a good 15 to 20 feet away from the bank.  Once again, I panicked.  Any grade school student who saw the tree could easily follow all of the signs right back to my doorstep.  So, now my mission went from disposal to coverup.  The next 15 minutes can only be described as hillarious.  I began to walk backwards in the snow from the tree to make footprints that led to another section of the neighborhood.   If you think walking forwards in 8 inches of snow is fun, try walking backwards.  I grabbed the broom from my garage and swepped up all of the needles in the road.  I was as thorough as possible in removing any chance of them coming to me for the tree.  I don’t know if I could have been fined or ticketed by the village or the two different associations that each have a tight squeeze on one of my nuts. 

I have no idea.  But I didn’t want to find out.  It was that experience that helped me realize that murdering someone and hiding the body should never be on my shortlist of things to do.  Because I suck at hiding anything.  Each of those needles were little hairs and traces of DNA in my mind, and if that was a body, I might as well have put a big blinking arrow on the tree that was laying on top of the ice in the middle of the lake.  I even debated on creating some sort of trebile hook on a rope like creation and throwing it out to the tree to pull back until I could find another way to get rid of it. 

Finally I decided to let it go.  If I was to get in trouble, I would take my medicine.  Well, nothing ever happened with the tree, and I hadn’t been back to the lake…until last night. 

I have posted about my turtles.  I have also posted about the goldfish.  Long story about them short, I have had two turtles for over 23 years.  I bought them goldfish one year ago to eat, and they befriended them.   They ate one, and since then I have had 11 new pets.  The gold fish have easily quadrupled in size since they have lived with my turtles.  I have no idea how they have lived because I have never fed them.  I do know that since they were in the tank, I have not had to clean it out, so I assume they eat turtle poop.  They do also eat the turtle pellets that I throw in each day as well. 

Lately, my younger turtle, Sebastian has been acting weird.  He floats.  He doesn’t swim.  Sometimes I have to tap the glass to see if he is alive.  I think he has something wrong with his legs because they have a mossy like substance on them. 

Last night I was down in the basement folding laundry while watching football when I looked over at the fish and saw that they were nibbling on Sebastian.  Ever few minutes, one of them would swim up and bit one of his legs.  It then dawned on me that the mossy like substance on his legs was actually his skin from the damn gold fish that were biting him.  I became very angry, and decided it was time to get rid of the fish.  I had planned on putting them in the lake this summer and letting them grow up out there, but now that I have discovered that they are harming the turtles, it’s go time.  I grabbed the scoop and put them all in a big freezer bag.  I filled it with water and then placed the bag into a bucket.  I told the wife what I was doing and her immediate response when I told her I was going to let the fish go, was that it was too cold and they might die.  I didn’t agree since fish live in the lake even through the winter, so I was sure they would be fine.  Once again I made my trek to the lake in the darkness of night.  The fish were eerily calm in the bucket as I carried it through the field.  As I arrived at the lake, I pulled the bag out of the bucket and said goodbye.  Once again I started to turn to toss the bag as far out as possible and then the zipplock piece of the plastic bag tore mid throw and the bag didn’t make it more than 4 feet from the edge of the water.   It was stuck in some mossy like stuff.  I became upset because it was my intention to let them swim away, not die stuck in a plastic bag. I walked back to the house and told my wife what had happened.  We grabbed flashlights and a broom so that I could pull the bag back in and let the fish go.  By the time we got back out to the lake, they were allready dead.  I felt horrible. 

I have never killed anything in my life intentionally, and I feel pretty damn bad that I killed the fish.  My thoughts are confused, because I bought them to be killed in the first place, but after having them around for the last year, they kind of grew on me. 

My turtles have been through a lot, and to think that goldfish would be their demise, is a pretty sad thought. 

Sorry to drag this story on, but it was a pretty stupid thing that I did last night.  My wife asked me if we should have gone back out to the lake to say a prayer for the fish, and I declined.  I am sure that they are better off where ever they are. 

I can offically remove the word fish from my categories now. 

Filed under: fish, mean, pain, weird, wife

rainy hd vampire

Wow we wow wow. What a crazy ass weekend. I am highly relieved to have my tukus sitting where it is back in my office.  Friday was as wonderful as having two school Halloween parties in one night could be.  The second party was cut short by my attempt to obtain the 3 new HD televisions that I have been chasing down for half of a week. 

I set the delivery to go to my father in laws on Friday since I was not going to be home, but apparently the UPS guy doesn’t knock very hard so my father in law missed it.  Due to my desire in getting this whole fiasco over with, I went to the UPS store to pick up the 3 LCD televisions.  In the rain.  The rain part will become more important later in the story.  Let me back track a bit. 

I met my wife at her father’s house to put on our costumes…makeup and all.  As a vampire, I wore my tuxedo pants, white dress shirt, black suspenders, and cape.  Easy Cheesy, right?  For effect I had bought fake fangs where they mold to your tooth by using this putty compound.  Apparently I didn’t follow the directions correctly because by the time I had combined both packets of putty and placed it in the teeth, and placed the teeth over my teeth to finish the mold, the putty had turned hard.  Oh well.  I was a toothless vampire.  I wore white powder on my face, sprayed my hair black, and had fake blood all around my mouth.  Good times.  Now to fast forward to the second party. 

Thankfully, we were driving seperately and I left my wife at 8:15pm to go to the UPS store 15 minutes away before they closed at 9:00.  I was worried because as I was driving there, I called to see if they could have the packages ready and I was told there was a line of people.  Great.  Now I have to stand in line as a vampire.  Joyous.  But for the sake of receiving HD glory, I did it.  I handed the woman my tracking info and she pulled the boxes out.  The lady said that they have seen hundreds of these Samsung LCD’s come through in the past two days and was curious as to what was going on.   She wheeled out the 3 very large boxes that upon seeing them became obvious to me that there was no way in hell that all of these boxes were going to fit in my car.  But I would try.  Another guy and his girlfriend were waiting for something as well, and upon seeing my boxes asked the clerk if one was his.  I looked at him and asked if he worked for my company as well and he said yes.  He asked me if I obtained these in an unethical manner as well, and upon my answer, we Hi-fived.  I don’t recall ever hi-fiving any stranger ever in my life in any environment other than sports.  He was jealous that I got three since he said he only had enough points for one.  Regardless, one is better than none.  It was still raining out. 

I roll the three incredibly large boxes out to my car…in the rain…and begin to work on the puzzle that was fitting these in my car.  It wouldn’t have been so bad had I not already had a box larger than these boxes in my back seat that I had picked up from Fedex earlier in the day that contained a mountain bicycle from the same sales award program. 

I worked for 20 minutes in the rain trying to squeeze boxes and I could only fit one of the 3 in my car.  Did I mention that it was raining?  Not just raining, but pooring.  On me.  On the boxes.  On me is funnier, because remember that I am wearing make up, black hair spray and fake blood….that has now covered my white dress shirt.  The boxes are now squishy dirty cardboard as well.  I called my wife and thankfully she came and rescued me.  There was enough room to place the boxes in her car.  So, we were off.  

It was 9:30 pm by now and my wife wouldn’t stop talking about Chinese.  We decided to try and find a Chinese restaurant on the way home and ordered take out.  We found a restaurant and ordered. As we waited we noticed that they had 3 fish tanks in the back of the restaurant.  In it they had many gold fish.  In one tank I looked and realized that all their goldfish was dead.  Jeanne said that she thought they were just sleeping, and after tapping the glass and seeing no movement of gills we discovered that they were truly dead.  I looked in another aquarium and realized that the fish there were dead as well.  I immediately became worried because isn’t that some sort of health code violation?  The fish were dead and it was obvious that they didn’t just die that day, but were dead for some time.  I tried to cancel the order but Jeanne’s Chinese cravings overrulled my dead fish argument. 

I have many other thoughts about the weekend rattling around my brain about the HD TV’s, bikes, church, halloween, and my little brother.  I will touch on those as the week progresses and time allows.  Have a great Monday!

Filed under: coworker, fish, grouchy, moving, pain, sore, stink, stupid, train wreck, weird, wife, work

Wa happen?

Can I just say quickly and for the record that I feel as if someone pressed the fast forward button onlife and decided to dump 10 weeks worth of projects on me to be completed in one week?  That is what I feel like. 

I have to look back at the last three days to think about the crazy happenings in the lift of me. 

 

1.  Recumbent bicycles.  What the F?  Who on earth came up with this thought:  “It’s fun to ride a bike, but it would be even funner if I could do it while lying on my back!”  I think my mind can grasp the concept from a health and comfort standpoint.  What doesn’t feel better when you are laying down?  There is no question there.  But my issue is the fact that these recumbent biking retards are riding around the back roads of the chicagoland suburbs as if there are not cars coming from each direction on two lane roads.  If these idiots didn’t put any thought into it, let me.  As a driver during my commute home or to Algonquin on Tuesdays, I drive West.  As I drive west I face the sun as it sets which casts a bright ass glare on my windshield.  It’s hard enough to drive with the sun in your eyes but now I have to contend with my worries about running over a biker that is hard enough to see on a normal bicycle, much less a recumbent bike that gives the rider a total height of 28″ off the ground.  It’s like midgets riding bikes.  I can’t handle it.  I am going to say it now.  If I hit any of you recumbent bastards, I might feel sorry for you for a few minutes, but my sorry will quickly move on to wonder why on earth you felt it would be safe to ride a bike that is hard to see while driving unless you are looking toward the ground.  From here on out I will use the word “recumbent” as an adjective towards someone that I feel is making a stupid decision.  “Man, that Mike is recumbent!”  “Who would smoke a cigarette while pumping gas is beyond me!”  Recumbent bikes are for the gym, home, or forrest preserve, not the highway numbnuts!

2.  My new area of sitting at work is very isolated.  I have no one  that I share space with now, so I can pretty much do whatever I want in my little desk space.  My only issue is that I have been seated within ten feet of the most prominent company gas passer.  On Wednesday he tore ass so loudly that coworkers from 50 feet away were laughing.  This guy takes such pride in trying to tear ass as loud as humanly possible.   I can’t help but laugh my ass off each and every time. 

3.  DirecTV customer service employees are not the brightest people on earth (although a lot of them are sweet with their accent).  I posted about my newfound favor with DirecTV.  Only to set up my superfan supercast this morning and realize that I was not give the Superfan as promised on Tuesday.  I called back into DirecTV and the customer service lady explained to me that the woman that offered me the world on Tuesday didn’t actually make a change on my account other than to actually remove my Sunday ticket without issuing a credit to my account.  So, not only did this lady not come through with her promises, but she screwed me in the process.  Lucky for me, she had left her offer notes in the system or I might have had another go around with a DirecTV cancellation specialist.   

4.  I did the same thing today to Nextel/Sprint.  I called and threatened to cancel.  Not only did they drop my monthly bill 20.00 per month, but they offered me the next 3 months free.  My wife is dumbfounded by my enjoyment in budget crunching.  I just like playing the game. 

Hot weekend ahead.  I drive 8 total hours to twist for 3 hours on Saturday. www.misterd.balloonhq.com  They are definitely making it worth my time. 

Sunday I am yet again missing my beloved NFL Sunday because I will be on a chartered boat out on Lake Michigan fishing for fish that I have never fished before in my life.  I like to fish for bass.  I like the skill in casting.  From what I understand, we just troll along and a fish jumps on the lure.  Then you have to wear out your arms reeling in a fish.  Sounds like fun.  What will make it even more fun is combining beer to that whole transaction.  I guess I can’t be too upset drinking and fishing with a bunch of guys on what is supposed to be a beautiful Sunday. 

Have a great weekend! 

Filed under: Car, achy, balloon, beer, confused, excuse, fish, friend, grouchy, mean, muscles, pain, sore, stink, stupid, train wreck, weird, work

Magical Turtle Tank

 

This morning I find my mind contemplating a tough situation that I have put myself in. 

I have two turtles.  Bruno and Sebastian.  Bruno is a girl.  I still call her Bruno because it took me 10 years before I learned that Bruno was a girl.  Just habit.  I can not bring myself to consistently call her Brunette.  Bruno is 23 and Sebastian is 21.  They have been a part of my life for my entire life.  I am 30 and I can not really remember life before the turtles.  Bruno and Sebastian have been through a lot with me.  Countless moves as a child (I would guestimate 8 or 9).  Countless moves during college (I would guestimate 8 or 9).  And two moves since I have lived in the Chicagoland area.  Let’s say 20 moves.  They also survived a housefire.  In college, my fraternity house was burned down by someone who thought it would be smart to throw a Molitav coctail bottle through our locked formal room window at 5:00am on a Sunday morning.  The turtles didn’t make it out of the house, but luckily my room wasn’t on the side of the house the received the most of the damage.  Their tank had melted but later that night when we were allowed back in the house, my turtles were chillin in very murkey sooty water.  That was 11 years ago next month. 

I had several girlfriends throughout the years come so close to convincing me to let them go.  I was told that they would have a better life in the wild, and I will not disagree with that statement, but I have grown too attached to them.  Women. 

So, every now and again I buy them live food.  Feeder goldfish.  Back in college my room mates would love feeding them fish because we would watch the two turtles attack the little fish and tear them apart.  I usually buy fish for them once or twice a year. 

Last December I bought a dozen fish for them and this time for some reason they only ate one of them.  Now I have a tank full of 2 turtles and 11 gold fish that are on pace to quickly out grow the turtles.  I think that the fish might have been damn good negotiators to convince my turtles to not eat them.  On occassion when I am downstairs Bruno or Sebastian will be chasing the fish but never to eat them.  I think that they are all friends now.  So, the magical question is this:  Now that the turtles have befriended the fish, do I get rid of the fish since it appears that they have no desire to eat them?  I have not specifically fed the fish once since December.  They will share in the organic pellets that I feed the turtles and they actually survive on the crud at the bottom of the turtle tank.  Actually, since they have been in the tank, I have not had to change out the water because all the junk that usually goes on bottom is getting eaten by all the fish. 

Jeanne now wants me to let the fish go in a local pond.  I am torn.  

This post really has no point but for some reason my turtles and fish are on my mind.  9 days until the NFL season kicks off. 

Filed under: fish, stupid, train wreck, turtle, weird, wife