Uncharted Waters

Yeah, it's been a very long time since I posted here. I actually forgot I had this little blog. Never the less, here I am.

I need some place to vent, and this blog is pretty disconnected from my online presence. So it's safe to talk about some things that I can't on Facebook. Now that I'm here, I'm not sure what to say.

I have known MM for 8 years. He was 15 and a brand new Senior Patrol Leader when I met him. I was a new Scoutmaster, and we began the leadership roles that would define us together.

Somewhere in there we became friends. MM aged out, and remained with the troop as adult leader. I mentored him, he helped me. Became my right hand. Became my kid brother.

We endured an episode of youth on youth sexual abuse in our troop. We spent hours and hours talking, discussing, supporting one another. He was the first person I texted when I had my heart attack, and he was the first non-family person I saw when I came out of surgery. Any time I needed help, he was there. He kept me on track and saw to the many things I tended to forget.

I trusted my son's life with him. I loved him. And I still do. That's the problem.

It turns out the young man I thought I knew had a dark side. For at least the past year, and probably longer, he has been sexually exploiting children. Using a fake Snap Chat profile to extort young boys into sending nude and sexually explicit pictures. Hundreds of them.

What the fuck, man. What the actual fuck.

I am beyond devastated. Broken. Rudderless.

I've been crying on and off for two weeks. Feeling angry, betrayed, heart broken, confused. Mourning the loss of a person I thought I knew. Someone I took pride in being partly responsible for. That's one of the great things about being a Scoutmaster. You get to take pride in the fine, upstanding young men you have a hand in molding. And then this happens.

I am friends with his father, and have been talking to him a lot. Trying to make sure he is OK. He is not.

Yesterday I talked to MM on the phone. He's in federal prison. I couldn't ask him any of the questions I have. I couldn't scream at him. All I could do was make small talk and ask him about his day. Surreal.

The hardest part of this is I still care about him. I worry for him. All while I am still horrified by him. And waiting for more information to come to light.

I read the complaint today, which is what prompted me to turn here. Absolutely revolting to read the details of the two charges against him, and the terrible knowledge that this is just the beginning.

I don't know where to go from here. How to feel or process. It's a nightmare from which there is no waking.

Nuke it!

Just for shits and giggles. You can input any location or address, choose your weapon, and see what kind of mayhem is unleashed.

Good, clean fun.

WTF?

Shame on the major media outlets for not picking up on this story. From io9:

For the past few days, university students in the Southern Chinese resort town of Hainan have been quarantined on the grounds of the Hainan University campus with little food or water. Apparently there's been an outbreak of cholera, and the local officials dealt with it Resident Evil style: Lock everybody in, give them no information, and see if they survive. But one woman student has been blogging about the ongoing ordeal, posting pictures and giving status updates several times a day.

Here's a link to the translated blog: Life in the time of cholera.

For those that may scoff at my less than mild obsession with a zombie apocalypse, remember this. In the event of a major outbreak of any sort, you and I and everyone we love are fucked.

Seriously.

What is and should not be

So, yesterday I get home from work and my stepfather says to me "I want to tell you something before your wife gets home."

OK.

He's out of work right now, and apparently has plenty of time to kill during the day. It seems many years ago he purchased the "5 Gates of Hell." He had never worked up the nerve to actually try it on. Until yesterday.

Now, mind you, he's relating this story to me as I'm standing in the kitchen, ice coffee in hand and my children playing in the next room. He manged to force his junk through the rings, and soon discovered it wasn't going to be easy removing them. He was nice enough to tell me he had shaved earlier that morning, so at least his pubes weren't getting caught.

He did manage to get the thing removed in time to pick up my son from preschool, and without a trip to the ER.

So, after he related this misadventure and went home to my dear mother, I had to ask myself: Was I more disturbed that he owns this contraption and decided to play with it (at 60), or by the fact that he so casually decides to relate this tale to me?

The horror, the horror.

Dude, there are just some things you don't share with your children. THIS IS ONE OF THEM!!!!

Oh, he's not going to... arghhh!!!

So, I'm driving through North Quincy today on my way to pick up my daughter. I was waiting at a red light, idly gazing around. I noticed some guy walking on the sidewalk. He didn't look homeless or crazy, just an average looking, middle aged black man. He drew my attention because he stopped short at a large rain puddle on the sidewalk. Suddenly, he got down on all fours, and to my abject horror began drinking from the puddle. DRINKING!!!! I was stunned. I jest not when I say he was lapping that shit up! I was actually too shocked to grab the camera sitting in my laptop bag.

I have no earthly idea what would cause a man to drink rain water out of a sidewalk puddle. Some sort of mental illness is surely to blame.

Just another day.

Interracial fellatio?

In the fron lobby of our building, they have a handy map. I never really took note of it until today, when I noticed the following:


The room that corresponds to the rather dirty looking pictogram is the gym. I don't know, but that looks like one hell of a work out.

Fight the future

OK, life imitating art or ironic branding? You be the judge:

Cyberdyne

Skynet

I, for one, bow to our new robotic overlords.

Dumbass (n):

Gawker has a pretty amusing post about this tool.

You, sir, are a dumbass.

What the.....?

Tonight, as I got Izzy ready for bed, I read her the Little Critter book "I Just Forgot." At one point, he is stating how he remembered to wash behind his ears in the tub, but he didn't forget to use soap. He just doesn't like it. Judging by the illustration, he also forgot his modesty:




Next time someone tells you you're hung like a critter, take it as a compliment.

Tootsie

While surfing the internets today at work, I discovered a nifty virtual makeover app on Tazz.
I had some fun with it, and here are the horrifying results:

Definition of "WTF"

Sheriff: Woman Sat on Toilet for 2 Years

WICHITA, Kan. (AP) — Deputies say a woman in western Kansas became stuck on her boyfriend's toilet after sitting on it for two years.

Ness County Sheriff Bryan Whipple said it appeared the 35-year-old Ness City woman's skin had grown around the seat. She initially refused emergency medical services but was finally convinced by responders and her boyfriend that she needed to be checked out at a hospital.

"We pried the toilet seat off with a pry bar and the seat went with her to the hospital," Whipple said. "The hospital removed it."

Whipple said investigators planned to present their report Wednesday to the county attorney, who will determine whether any charges should be filed against the woman's 36-year-old boyfriend.

"She was not glued. She was not tied. She was just physically stuck by her body," Whipple said. "It is hard to imagine. ... I still have a hard time imagining it myself."

He told investigators he brought his girlfriend food and water, and asked her every day to come out of the bathroom.

"And her reply would be, `Maybe tomorrow,'" Whipple said. "According to him, she did not want to leave the bathroom."

The boyfriend called police on Feb. 27 to report that "there was something wrong with his girlfriend," Whipple said, adding that he never explained why it took him two years to call.

Police found the clothed woman sitting on the toilet, her sweat pants down to her mid-thigh. She was "somewhat disoriented," and her legs looked like they had atrophied, Whipple said.

"She said that she didn't need any help, that she was OK and did not want to leave," he said.

She was taken to a hospital in Wichita, about 150 miles southeast of Ness City. Whipple said she has refused to cooperate with medical providers or law enforcement investigators.

Authorities said they did not know if she was mentally or physically disabled.

Police have declined to release the couple's names, but the house where authorities say the incident happened is listed in public records as the residence of Kory McFarren. No one answered his home phone number.

The case has been the buzz Ness City, said James Ellis, a neighbor.

"I don't think anybody can make any sense out of it," he said.

Ellis said he had known the woman since she was a child but that he had not seen her for at least six years.

He said she had a tough childhood after her mother died at a young age and apparently was usually kept inside the house as she grew up. At one time the woman worked for a long-term care facility, he said, but he did not know what kind of work she did there.

"It really doesn't surprise me," Ellis said of the bathroom incident. "What surprises me is somebody wasn't called in a bit earlier."

-Associated Press

Sweet dreams are made of this

Partial list of ingredients for Reese's Peanut butter Eggs: Nonfat milk, milk fat.

Wait, what?

Now I'm starting to get a little worried

Remember, remember the eleventh of September...

The airplanes, terror and plot,

I know of no reason

Why nine eleven

Should ever be forgot.

Jesus H Tap Dancing Christ. Seriously?

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

It's a movie, for cry eye. Too soon? When did this once proud nation become a land of professional victims? Get over it, get over yourself.

Where my fingernails live

Kids say and do weird things, without a doubt.

TKJr. came walking into the living room after having gone to bed tonight. He wanted me to come in his room so he could show me something. The following conversation occurred:

"What did you want to show me, honey?"
"I want to show you where my fingernails live."
"Umm, OK. Where do they live?"
"You tell me."
"I don't know, I thought you wanted to tell me."
"You tell me."
"On your fingers?"
"No, the ones I peel off."
"I don't know. Where do they live?"
"Under my pillow!"

He then proceeded to show me a little collection of 4 or 5 fingernail ends he had peeled off and stashed under his pillow.

Weird kid.

Sexy Mustard

Now With 30% Less Snark!

So, I got a talking to from my boss today.

It would appear that my reputation at work is at stake due to my tendency to run my mouth. I have caused offense by making blunt, off the cuff remarks about coworkers. I have thrown people under the bus in an attempt to force senior management in to dealing with some of our biggest problems. I have been honest.

I have developed a bit of an attitude.

Duly noted.

My eval is due in a couple of months. I'm counting on that almighty 5% raise. So, if a kinder, gentler me is what they want, a kinder, gentler me they will get.

You want a team player? I'll be the "I" in team. You want me to play nice and play by the rules? OK. No prob, Bob.

Since the end result will be more money in my pocket and less acid in my stomach, I'm game. I'm going to let go of the stress, and just do what I'm paid to do. Shit, I'll be the hap-hap-happiest asshole that ever worked there. It might actually be fun.

Ball Buster!

Who the fuck are you?

KG dropped off two rolls of pictures at CVS. When I popped the CDs in to upload the pictures, one was not my children.

Looks like someone had a good time in Vegas.

What the fuck was that?

So, it's just a little before 10 on a Thursday night. KG and I are hanging out in the office with the door open, enjoying a quiet evening. Suddenly there is a screech of tires and a horrific crunching boom right in our driveway.

I'm glad I wasn't carrying a turd. It might have squeezed out.

I rushed out the door in time to see a dark SUV tearing up the street with a blown tire. Pieces of hubcap and rearview mirror were all over our driveway and the street. There's a good chunk missing out of the telephone pole at the end of our driveway.

This asswipe was apparently bombing down our street on the wrong side of the road.

I called the cops, who just showed up. It appears the driver crashed in Whitman and is under arrest for DUI. The officer collected some evidence from my driveway, and went on his way.

Excitement she wrote!