Looking Away To See Clearly

This is what our society has been reduced to or at least its been my observations in the last four months or so. I have had the opportunity to see things that I normally wouldn’t pay attention to. We overlook so much in our daily lives, things that are right in our face, and we just don’t pay attention. Some would say its because we are too close to it therefore becoming very ignorant to our surroundings. Maybe its complacency, maybe it is lack of pride, or maybe its just because ignorance is the “acceptable” way of doing things. We could debate reasons until the end of time but the fact will remain the same, our lack of attention to detail has had a severe negative impact on our every day lives. We are raised to accept a lesser quality, a lesser quantity, and to give a “pass” to those things or people who do it in a substandard fashion. Why? Why in the fuck do we expect to get low quality or quantity and accept it as par for the course? Why in the fuck is is next to impossible to get those around us to accept responsibility for their words or actions? How in the fuck does anything get done in a timely manner? Its simple, it doesn’t, and most of us just roll with the punches. Don’t you just get sick of the shit? Will our glass ever runneth over with all the bullshit? Shouldn’t we be ready to stop being cheated in regards to everything?

We know its impossible to negotiate with morons and we know there is duplicity in wanting something different. Can we be this out of touch with the people around us? Why fucking keep turning a blind eye? I watched an amazing transformation over the past several months, something I have never seen on a day to day basis before, I watched an empty lot evolve into a living, breathing restaurant. Now, I have a very vivid imagination, but I couldn’t ever theoretically imagine the struggles I witnessed. Hell, just take the weather, shitty weather really holds up construction, the delays roll out like dominos, and cascade in a way that if a person keen on logistics had not been in charge, I wouldn’t be looking at a restaurant that will be serving food and drinks in two days. In many ways it was like watching the ringmaster of a large production circus who had his fair share of goofy fucktard clowns to deal with each and every day. I had to wonder, more than once mind you, how some of these contractors got out of bed in the morning much less contribute to the construction of this building. I’m being 1000% serious, all kidding aside, I was left with my mouth wide open wondering how a handful were able to tie their shoes or wipe their own asses allot of the times. They were all paid for excellence but more often than not only brought half a bucket of bullshit to the jobs at hand.

Fear not tho, because of the powers of a few, this building will soon be seating the masses, all ignorant of what it took to get it completed. As well they should be, they should be oblivious to the course of actions it took just so they could drink beer and consume wings until they are fat and happy. We, as people in our society, don’t want to know how hard it was to get here, they just want to know when the waitress is swinging back through. Luckily, its in a great location, it lay on the line that separates the rednecks who can’t afford a clue to the rich and wannabe rich who can’t wait to have a new place to sit and to bitch about the things us poorer folks, myself included, aren’t doing up to their personal standards. But do the rich and snotty visit sport’s bars? The the poor bastards up the road have the extra money to pay double or even triple the prices of their favorite hole in the wall bar closer to home? In my opinion, this would have been a good place for a topless bar and grill, fuck the sports part, serve drinks and wings topless, trust me, its a combination that works, beer, boobs, and wings. Maybe I should keep this idea to myself, maybe I need to look into a location for myself. I know the strip bar business and the business end of the bar, I’m just saying. I have lived here for many years and have yet to see an adult entertainment bar anywhere near here. Again, its the perfect market with zero competition. Just food for thought, that’s all. For now, the good people of our fair city get yet another sports bar and grill.

Did I ever mention that for a dedicated people watcher like myself that this has been an interesting project? Let’s leave it at the fact that there was rarely a dull moment. In many ways I felt like nobody could top the people the day before, but, each day u was proven dead fucking wrong. I learned very fast to just buckle up, shut my mouth, so I could better watch and learn. So I did, and I did learn, and yes it all moved at the speed of blur for me. Yet, this new restaurant is but the tip of the spear? Why? Because dammit, were restaurant builders!

_20150223_165447

Odd Drinks Around The World #8

_20140728_153531

Another beer combined with food, and this time a pizza! Some might think this is the best thing in the world, while others, not so much. The beer is made by taking a real Margarita pizza and placing it into a mash & steeping it in the beer mixture like a tea bag. They strain it several times assuring there are no bits or pieces in the beer itself, then it’s cooled, fermented and bottled.

Posted From Scorpion Sting’s Motorola Droid Maxx!

Magic Weekend 4th Of July Edition

_20140707_075358

I hope y’all are ready for this 4th of July edition of The Magic Weekend because it was definitely an eye opener for me. As you can see from the photo above I am honoring a promise I made a while back when I said I will do my best to provide y’all with the enclosed pictures as long as I could censor them enough for public display here on The Sting Of The Scorpion. I will warn readers that right here is the place to stop reading if certain language is offensive to you, or if sexual situations being explained offend you, or if you don’t want to read about another bizarre trip to the emergency room. For those of y’all sticking around now let me introduce Shawna (pictured above), age 25. who resides in El Paso Texas. She is currently employed as a graphics designer along with others who were at this particular 4th of July party. So here we go.

“Dear Scorpion Sting,

First of all, please forgive me if there are mistakes in my typing since I write this to you with two broken fingers. I didn’t want to wait because pretty much everything is still a fresh memory as I sit here this Sunday morning. I hope you can use a few of the pictures I sent in, I didn’t take any of them except for the ones of my broken fingers, but all the rest were found on my phone afterwards. I am glad someone was nice enough to document me at this party because without the pictures I wouldn’t believe anything I have been told so far. I guess I will start at the beginning here since I never had the intentions of actually partying on the 4th since I was to work on the following Saturday. So this all starts with my dumbass answering a text asking what my plans were for the night.

In many moments of personal weakness I agreed to accompany a girl I work with to a party with many of my coworkers. Honesty, my intent was to hang out somewhere, unnoticed by the others, have a few drinks, and then going home. For the most part this is how I party. When we get there they are already playing a variety of shot games and quickly I was pushed into playing by the crowd. I do shots pretty good so I wasn’t really worried. Shots turned into strip poker, which is my downfall because I suck shit playing cards. After a few hands I had lost my shirt and eventually my bra. But I was doing fair, I had the most clothes on when it was over, I guess everyone grew bored and wanted to quit so we could get more drinking done. I watched as a few guys did kegstands and decided I could do it longer, faster, and better. As a couple of them flipped me upside down into position I shoved the tap in my mouth and let it go. I think they said my time, the time to beat, was 4:10,

They let me down gently and I found me a spot on the couch to watch. I looked for my shirt for a while but had no luck, so fuck it I let it all hang out, I figured it was hot inside and I would worry about a shirt when it comes time to leave. I continue to drink, mostly on the comfort of the couch, but on occasion I would have to wobble into the bathroom, you know. I had sent a text, yes a drunk ass text, to my sister, to come get me because it was well after 2 in the morning. Last trip to the bathroom and then I’m gone. When I opened the bathroom door I tripped on the bottoms of my pants since I was working them down in a damn hurry. When I get up off the floor my pants get hooked on the doorstop so I just kicked them off so I could get on the toilet before it was too late. The good news is I made it, so it was a success. I stood up to bend over to get my jeans when I felt the most fucked up crunching pain, someone was coming in and jammed my hand into the wall down by the floor. After I screamed the person backed off and I was able to pull my hand back. I collapsed to the floor. I ended up against the wall, looking out the wide open door, completely naked, when my sister pops her head around the corner.

We decided I had two broken fingers. We decided it was time to get dressed. We found my jeans, my flip flops, and my phone. I borrowed someone’s T-shirt but had to go commando and braless when we walked out the door. The ride to the emergency room was quiet, my 19 year old sister didn’t want to know anything. We go into the emergency room and because the place was dead I guess, we went right back. After giving up all my information I went to have xrays, which show the last digit of both fingers broken. After they splinted them up I was released, although since I behaved myself, the police weren’t called in, there was talk of me being publically intoxicated. So I escaped going to jail I think. She took me home where I woke up late Saturday evening, missing work altogether, and with a fucking bad hangover. Fingers seem to be doing fine, typing this was interesting though. Hope you find something here to use in your blog. Shawna”

What do I have to say about all of this? It was an interesting story. Based on the rest of the pictures I would have to say there were some things left out, but who am I to judge. So let’s see if categorically she hit any of the criteria. Was there sex? Questionable. Was there blood? No, but there were broken bones. Was there money? No. Was there fame? No. Was there jail? The conditions were there but it falls short. In review, there was a party, drinking, nudity, broken bones, a trip to the emergency room, and a shitload of pictures Shawna didn’t take in her own phone. I think we have a winner and therefore it will be The Magic Weekend; 4th of July edition. Got your personal story ready yet? Just send it in and we will see you here.

20140707_083942

Mysteries, Enigmas, Cubicles, And Puzzles

The latest submission to The Magic Weekend is about a young professional man who spends his days in an office cubicle and his nights doing whatever comes to mind for his mood. His actual story does not have even one of the five criteria for being here on The Magic Weekend, there is no Sex, no Jail, no Blood, no Money, and no Fame. So why am I adding this e-mail to the collection of my stories? That will be a question that you must answer for yourselves after you read and digest the information provided. Personally, I think that Robert believes that if he gets his story out there that he may finally see and end or a beginning to something in his future. You see, his story is one of covert lust that, to date, has not been resolved and he hopes that by walking us through his story that it will help him look for clues he has yet to discover. As always, I try to provide as many pictures as I can. This is one of those cases that I can only provide the two pictures you see as the other 30 some odd pictures are just a wee bit racy. I’m not in the habit of censoring what people read or see but I would like to keep my blog somewhere in the PG rating. With no more from me, let’s get on with Robert’s torrid little story.

cubicles

“Hello, my name is Robert and I have a truly bizarre story for you today. My story actually takes much longer than a mere weekend, it has gone on for right at 4 weeks now. I’m sending you a mess of pictures in the order that I received them to better illustrate what has been happening. Where do I begin. How about a little background of what I do for a living as well as how I spent my time away from work. If you look through the pictures you will see one or two showing a gaggle of cubicles. That is my work environment. This is where I sit for basically 10 hours a day, cut off from the world below me and from any outside contact with other human beings. The job is real monotonous but it pays my bills leaving me with enough money to still enjoy my life here in Houston. I’m not from Houston, I’m actually a transplant who was chasing the all American dream of having a good career and making a good salary. I grew up and went to college at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas (UNLV), graduating with my degree in Kinesiology. When it came time for job placement I was put on to information about a company in Houston that specializes in the design, concept, and implementation of biomechanics and orthopedics. When I accepted the job offer it was at the bottom tier of the career path. I figured I had to start somewhere, why not doing research, analysis, and comparison. Translation, I read and I read and I read. Then I get to provide my information for statistical analysis which is used for approach and further investigation. Sounds complicated, but it’s really not too bad. How does this play into everything? It has everything to do with it. My social life and work life does not overlap, meaning that I have work friends and I have friends outside work, the two never cross that line. In over a year of being with this company I can think of only one other text I received while I was at work and that was from my mother wishing me a great first day of work. Which, would have been a real push of enthusiasm for me it had actually been on my first day and not eleven days into it. I know she meant well. Anyway, right at four weeks ago I get a text from a number I don’t recognize. It’s a local number so I figure I will look at it and see what is up. When I opened it up I had to look around to see if anyone saw me looking at the picture of the girl which was being displayed. The text read “I’ve been watching you and have noticed that you have not noticed me yet”. Slowly I peek out over the top of my cubicle to look around, to see if I could see anyone looking at me that looked like this girl. I got nothing. It actually ruined my whole day because I couldn’t stop trying to figure out who she was. Not real good for productivity. It is what it is though. I ended up taking work home with me because of the entire day being a bust.

The next day about the same time in the morning I get another text from this mysterious creature. By now I think she is really trying to get my attention because that picture was a bit more exposing. Thinking to myself I don’t want to get any further behind or get fired I put my phone away and got back into getting my work done. Lunch rolled around, we get a whole 30 minutes which usually leads to most people just bringing their lunch and eating in the lunch room. On that day I decided to go to the atrium area of our building to get away from my other distractions and have a few minutes to try to figure out who this girl was and what she wanted. I keep thinking she is sending these pictures to the wrong person and that I am not the intended target of her affections. Don’t get me wrong, the attention is nice, even if it isn’t for me. It can’t be for me or can it. This continued every following day. Everyday I paid attention to who was around me no matter where I was at. Thursday nights is when my friends and I get together and usually go see a new movie and then go to a local bar to shoot darts and have a few beers. I found myself getting real paranoid because I could not figure out who she was. After about 4 weeks the pictures started becoming quite explicit, to say that I was getting to see a new side of her each day would be a complete understatement to say the least. The last picture I got of her was impressive, she is quite limber and acrobatic, it was sent with this message which haunts me still to this day. It read “I’m sorry you haven’t figured out who I am in your life. Be at the Red Lion Pub tonight at 10pm. look for me and you will see me”. Really? I couldn’t believe what I was reading.

I went home after work in quite a hurry. I needed a shower and to get dressed. I felt like a girl getting asked out on a first date. I don’t have allot of leisurewear as most of my wardrobe is casual business attire. I mixed and matched and finally thought I had it figured out. Then, I was done, walking out the door. I wanted to get there early and do a little situational observation. In reality I wanted to check the place out and see which one of my jackass friends was going to jump out and say “Gotcha!”. What I got was a fistful of mass disappointment and despair. I sat there until the placed closed down. Well, I actually didn’t just sit in one spot, I would walk around, sit at a new spot, walk around, and so forth, all night long. She never showed up. For some reason I didn’t include this in the options of what could happen that evening. She didn’t show, it was plain and simple. Did she get cold feet. Right about closing I decided to text her and ask her where she was and if she forgot about our meeting. There was no reply. I called her, my call went straight to voicemail. I left her the voicemail message of “sorry I missed you tonight, maybe another time”. I collected my belongings and hailed a taxi to take me back home. I waited for a call or a text, any sign that I wasn’t crazy and that she had a great reason or no reason for standing me up. Nothing. That nothing is what continued from that point forward. I waited like a love struck puppy for an entire week for something, anything from her. At the end of the week I called her one last time and was answered with a recorded message telling me that the number I was trying to reach is not available. Did she change her number? Was the other one disconnected? I will never know since I never even knew her name. So, back to my life, back to the cubicle, I will always have more questions than answers, it will always be a mystery to me who she would be to me, I feel a bit heartbroken but know it wasn’t all real. I mean, it happened, but it didn’t actually mean anything. Now, I have some very enigmatic memories of a nameless girl who was very talented. I won’t ever solve this puzzle, but if I do I will be sure to update you.

201310

Can y’all see now why I included this as a Magic Weekend submission. There was the promise of something from someone. The story intrigued me enough that I found myself feeling bad for this guy. I found myself wanting to reach out to help him. Therefore, I included his story here. Makes me wonder though, was she just screwing with him? Was he the intended recipient of all those texts? Is this that has been lost to ever be found ever again? Answers I will probably never know. I hope y’all enjoyed Robert’s story. I look forward to all the submissions I get to the Magic Weekend. Just e-mail them to me. What did your weekend involve? Sex? Jail? Blood? Monet? Or Fame? Send me your story now and see it here in the very near future. Thanks for stopping by and I look forward to your many returns.