So I was cleaning the house a little while ago since I’m on my day off and I had a thought about a blog. I sat down and, in about 25 minutes, pounded out a decent little piece that explains a lot about me, some little part of my past that was a fairly decent look inside my background and upbringing.

I don’t often talk about my dad since he died so long ago and it feels like there’s not that much to talk about since, while I may have been 16 years old, I definitely never had adult conversations or interactions with him. But this blog I wrote had a little of that in there, and a little bit about how I felt when we had to go to the public food pantry to get free handouts because we didn’t really have much money, and a little more intimate soul-searching.

Actually, it’s pretty honest and not a bad little look into the not-big-mouthed, not-obnoxious, not-willing-to-be-an-idiot-for-$5 me.

So, I have that.

Or, I thought to myself, I could save that since no one wants to read that pyscho shit anyway, and just talk about beer.

Let’s do that, shan’t we?

Now first, before we get to the beer, let’s talk technology, which is pretty awesome.

I can’t fathom how far things have come just in my lifetime — which is getting extended way longer that I ever thought it would, good or bad — in terms of technological advancements of all kinds. And now there’s more and more things that come out every day that just blow my mind. It’s like the clock is ticking faster and faster in the technology world as they build newer, smaller, faster, clearer, more powerful things that we love to love.

Like phones.

I’m going to guess that it’s a fairly wide range of ages between my 12 readers on this blog. I know, at least one time, I’ve had someone read on here who is in his early 20s. And I think there are a couple others in the late 20s and early 30s, and then the fat fucks in their late 30s and the old fat fucks who are already in their 40s.

And then there are the Islamists who I don’t know their age, but they seem to have frequented one of my posts a couple months ago according to the traffic dashboard that WordPress has set up here. I had 25 hits in one day all coming from a site that hosts Islamic videos. Welcome, brothers.

[Editor’s note: Um, this is true. Kinda freaked my ass out for a minute, but hey, whatever.]

No matter what group you fall in, think about your life in terms of phones. What’d you have when you were, say, six? You remember anything about it?

We had a dark green dial phone that sat on the little table next to the big console TV in the living room. There was a knitted little spread that covered the TV top with some picture frames on it (one of which exploded on the wall right above my head when my adopted mom threw it at my adopted dad and it shattered against the wall, but, hey, that’s a different story) and a matching knit spread on the end table the phone sat on.

When I was like 13, we had a super long cord that we could pull around the house. Literally, we lived in a one-bedroom house and we could take the phone — one of those little two-piece deals that was long and thin and kinda reminded me of like a banana because of its shape and it was yellow — anywhere in the house, from bathroom to bedroom to kitchen to living room since they were all in like 500 square feet.

In College, we had phones in our room and mine was a beat-up old hand-me-down I took from an auction. It was the desktop kind you’d see at banks, a kind of tan color with the big buttons for extra lines and hold along the bottom. It had duct tape holding it together and I had to re-wire the insides twice because of beer. Isn’t beer always the reason for re-wiring things?

Back then, and just so you know, I really hate pulling the ‘Back in the day’ card, but, in 1993 when I graduated, we didn’t have cell phones. Gasp. I can’t imagine today what it’d be like if I had had one while in college and could send texts or have texts sent about me.

Actually, wait a minute. I can.

And I’m going to let you in on a little of what it might have (read: would have 100 percent) been like if cell phones were prevalent back then. This is easily accomplished with the aid of one of my favorite websites, textsfromlastnight.com.

So with that, here are a few of the texts I found on the site last night that I have a feeling would have been sent from my phone or that of phones from my friends between August 1989 and May 1993, had we actually had technology available back then that included more than green screens and Pong.

And with that, this week’s Tuesday’s Memories (actually on Tuesday you fat fucks; you know who you are, and while I know you’re doing it because I told you to, you’re still none the less fucking annoying)….

(619): FYI the landlord called, said we need to clean the puke off the side of the house…was someone on the roof lastnight??

Ahhh, the old “Whoever did that needs to clean that up. Oh wait, it was me?” night out on the town. And, the little-man syndrome in me has always played a part in things like that as I tend to like to try to climb things while drinking. The key word here is try, because 1) I’m shorter than Tom Cruise and have little arms that can’t reach that far and 2) I tended to be able to barely stand up when drinking in College, let alone have complete use of all faculties and appendages at all times. But it never stopped me and I know there are a few good pictures floating around somewhere as I climbed on top of the steeple on top of our sophomore dorm, served a 23-foot beer bong from the top of the Beer Garden and possibly (I will not admit to this one) peeing while standing outside on a third-floor window ledge of my freshman dorm into an open convertible.

(617): my roommate just showed up covered in dirt, drunk….with a whole ice cream cake that says “it’s a girl”.

This is what likely was said a couple times by my roommates the first semester of my senior year. Great guys. Good people. Didn’t quite drink, let’s say much. And by that, I mean, their limit was probably two beers a week, which of course made it a perfect matchup since I was always drunk and I had the littlest room, which was really actually a lean-to attached to the side of the house with no insulation. It made sense that since I was going to always be drunk, I wouldn’t need quite as much heat in my room.

(562): at the last minute we also decided to throw an egg in the beer bong. and he drank it, shell and all.

This one would have been texted by a CAP. That’s the sorority that we hung with because those chicks drank like fish, and we dug that. I totally could see a couple of my best friends from my junior year who were CAPs sending that one around, although the follow up would probably be something like this: “Yes, the shells did cut his mouth on the way back up.”

(505): Shotgunned a beer while taking a bath.

This was April 13, 1993. I had no way of communicating through remote access technological advances at the time, but this did happen.

(401): 5am is far to early to be on jagerbomb number 6 right now

I’m just going on the record that this would not have been me because at no point in my life has it ever been too early for Jagermeister. Any CAP who was at our Kegs & Eggs morning pledge parties can verify that I liked my Jager any time of the day. I may not drink it much anymore, but there are some things in life that will never leave you. And the ability to drink Jager 24/7 is may fate in life. In the immortal words of my little Korean roommate my junior year who drank Absolut as much as I drank Jager, “So be it.”

(253): We all know tonight is going to end like every other night with you. drunk, pantless and confused. Dont try to switch things up.

This one isn’t me texting either. This is my hetro-life partner texting about me. He’s been saying this — almost word for word — since we were 17. I’m not sure whether it’s good or bad, but he’s still saying it and I expect to hear it again at least twice on June 23-26 during poker weekend.

(484): Puking green right now……… jaimison mcflurry very bad idea

In the also immortal words of one of my former students, ‘Oh, my.’  No we did not use Jaimison to make McFlurries. Back in spring 1991 of my sophomore year of College, a couple buddies came down from home for the weekend and we drank a lot on Friday and then got up Saturday and drank what was left of the third case before 2 p.m. After lunch and a nap, we started again and found ourselves out of beer. All that was left was two pints of mint chocolate chip ice cream, a half-eaten order of nachos and a bottle of Everclear. Under no circumstance should you ever, EVER try to use Everclear to make milkshakes. Just saying.

(361): Hold my feet while i lean out of the window of the truck.

Again, I tend to be willing to do stupid shit while sober. The level of increased awkwardness and inability to react to intelligent thoughts was at Threat Level Bravo Orange Monkey for the three years and 9 months I was in College. This willingness to 1) create my own redneck festivities and 2) listen to others who may not have had my physical well-being in mind was at an all-time high. Now, luckily my physical escapades while inebriated only once led to me waking up in the hospital and not knowing where I was. But that time doesn’t actually count because the police left me in detox, which is in the mental ward and not really a part of the hospital.

(704): dizzyuy bat. 3.453 lkos. hoit sx, now im single. blackouteed

This would have been a Thursday night. Any Thursday night.