Do you have a better way to spend seventeen months?

One small step for Killer, One giant step back for Mankind

The EU is looking for six volunteers to lock in a small mock space ship for seventeen months. European Space Volunteers

I have no plans for the coming years, so I thought I would apply.

The purpose is to see how well humans would survive together in cramped, sparse surroundings with poor supplies. It sounds like my college apartment, and that wasn't too bad.

I have seen Bio-Dome, with Pauly Shore, several times and it seemed like they enjoyed themselves, so why not give this a shot. If it is one thing that movies have taught me over the span of my lifetime, it is that movies never exaggerate the truth.

If chosen, here is my top five agenda items for living in a small space with six other people for seventeen months.

1. As soon as they close and lock the door, fart really obnoxiously. If I am going to be stuck in a confined space for seventeen months, I want to set the precedent immediately. I am not getting up and going into the lavatory EVERY single time I have to expel gas.

2. Pick one person and always give them a portion of my food rations. When we run out of food, and it is inevitable with my sleep eating disorder, I need to have at least one person plumped up and ready for me to cannibalize.

3. Immediately run around and hump all the other participants. I am not sure why, but on the Animal Planet this always seems to show dominance, and I want to be the boss.

4. Begin my own experiment: How long before everyone else goes crazy if I continuously sing the theme song to "Three's Company".

5. As soon as the doors are locked, turn to the rest of the crew and in a sinister voice say, "Over the next seventeen months, whether you realize it or not, I will touch all of you with my balls." Then show them my balls.

World Travel for All

Killer says, "Get off your ass and go see something."

I love to travel. It could also be said that I obsess about it. I am not happy unless the next trip is planned and locked in. I have been blessed with an equally obsessed travel companion, Chad. He is a professor of English and American Culture at a university in Taiwan. He has the summers off, and I can pretty much work when I want, so the stage is set for travel.

Chad, Me and Clib in Boquillas, Mexico, just across the border from Big Bend National Park, Texas

Me, Chad and my best friend Clib all started travelling in the early years of college. It started innocently enough with a four day trip to the Smokey Mountain National Park in Tennessee. It was so much fun, we immediately started taking camping trips to other National Parks around the country, every break from school. Each trip got longer and further until it culminated into a massive five week trip around the Western U.S., up through Canada and into Alaska. For that trip we also added two more travellers, Bigelow and the often mentioned, Disco.

Bigelow, Clib, Me, Disco and Chad at Crater Lake National Park, Oregon

Since then, Clib did the unthinkable; he grew up and got married. That left me and Chad to continue on the irresponsible lifestyle of endless travel and trying to drink beer on every continent. Although, even Clib's wedding was used as an excuse to travel.

Me, Mrs. Clib, Clib and Chad immediately after their wedding ceremony in Hawaii

People always seem amazed that we can afford to travel so much, but it doesn't really take as much as people think. I guess it depends on where your priorities are. Do you really need a large screen TV? Do you need a bigger house? Do you need two kidneys?

I began thinking about this because of an article I ran across on Yahoo. It is simply titled "Take a Year Off to Travel the World". It gives tips and pointers for anyone to stop their rat race and go see how the rest of the world does it. Trust me, the rat race is better from the spectator stand point.
Take a Year Off to Travel the World

I recommend you check out the article, then get out there. Maybe you can't take a year to sit on a beach in Thailand. A few months is awesome; I have done that. Maybe you can swing a few days to go check out Glacier National Park in Montana, Mt. Zion National Park in Utah, or Acadia National Park in Maine. I recommend all of those very much. There are many people who have lived their whole lives only a few hours from a National Park and never even visit.

I will warn you, it can become addictive.

On a side note:
My favorite national park is My Balls National Park. It is open year round and it is rarely crowded, unfortunately.
I'm sorry, the rest of the post was a little too serious.

Once Again, Future Careers

Killer tired of words.

I'm at work, all the ass is wiped. I can't think of anything to write, so I decided to draw some pictures. The theme is one I touch on often.
What are some other career choices I could thrive in? The following are along the self-employed, entrepreneurial slant.

Single handedly destroying society

Killer failing miserably to clean things up around here

Man, I have been on a roll lately with my working conversations. The last hospital was too busy to talk, but here, there is little else to do.

Out of the blue, RN1 says, "You know, I am constantly disappointed with the increase of 'potty' humor that is being used."

I, feeling my ears turn red with guilt, replied, "What do you mean?"

RN1: "T.V. shows, comedians, and people in general only want to talk about sex, genitals, or disgusting bodily functions. I really believe that it is a sign of our culture collapsing around us when people find these things funny."

RN2: "I don't think it is any worse than the past."

RN1, flabbergasted: "What! Don't you watch T.V.? When I see this humor it makes me cry."

Me: "You actually weep if a T.V. show makes a joke about sex or diarrhea?"

RN1: "Don't you find it heartbreaking that our children are seeing this and are being taught it is acceptable and funny?"

RN2: "I think you are being a bit melodramatic."

RN1: "If you had kids you would understand."

RN2, to me: "I'm going tomorrow to get my pussy shaved."

RN1 puts her head in her hands.

Me: "I'm going to have my balls waxed next week."

RN2: "No really, I am taking my pet cat to get a haircut. He looks like a lion afterwards."

Me: "You shave your pussy to look like a lion?"

RN2: "Yes, if I don't shave him he gets very matted and poo sticks in his fur."

Me: "I wax my balls for the same reason. Afterwards they look like a turtle without it's shell."

RN1, lifts her head, stands up and as she storms away, "I don't know why I talk to you people."

Me: "She didn't cry."

RN2: "I don't know what a turtle looks like without his shell."

Me: "I'll show you later."

Immigration control

Killer glances nervously about

There is definitely a conspiracy occurring within me. First George, my fatty tumor, set up camp on my jaw rather than keeping with his own kind in my stomach region. Now I am finding hair growing in places it should not. I guess it is partially my fault. The lax border control policies allowed waves of migrant hairs to colonize my back. I now have small settlements popping up from inside my ears.

Don't try to use the liberal excuse of over crowding from population growth. This aerial photo clearly shows mass regions of abandoned real estate.

So the grounds not as fertile as it used to be, adapt people, learn a new trade. Education is the key to success. Not packing up and heading for the vast untapped resources of my back. That's protected national reserves.

I don't want to risk a Middle East style conflict. I believe in a semi-autonomous group of regions all controlled by me, but with special consideration for their different needs. The fat that resides in the abdominal region has different needs and priorities than the hair that is now making a mass exodus from my head. It can quickly become very confusing and unsightly, unless everyone is kept properly separated.

Now with the ear hair, I don't understand what they find appealing about the area. It's a dark desolate region. Maybe it is a strange religious cult that is looking for seclusion.

I guess they could pick a worse location. The hair on my butt gains my deepest sympathy. Horrendous wind storms and torrential mud slides make for a less than ideal location. It reminds me of Native American reservations. Yeah, you were forced to live there a long time ago, but the land sucks and you should probably move. Basically, unless my butt hair has opened a really profitable Indian casino on my balls somewhere, I don't understand why they stay down there. (Sorry, no photo provided)