We Three Rings

That's a clever title. I dare you to oppose me! As I was talking with my lovely sister today, and a very intense talk it was, full of dreams and aspirations and fears and unwanted life-features, I mentioned to her the following:

I need to find my niche.

Maybe I could invent titles for people and their lamely-titled or pathetically-untitled posts. Not saying their posts are pathetic or lame, but some of the titles could be better. Take, for instance, this one.

Whatever my niche is, it's out there. I just know it. Oft times I've daydreamed of becoming an artist. "What kind of artist?" asked a fellow named Steve. As he normally mumbles out one-word phrases, I was quite taken aback at the clarity, depth, and 4-wordiness of his question.

"Anime," was my reply.

"That?" A reply I'm used to.

And so anime was out. Other times during my daily work-slumber (eek!), I allow my electrical synapses to derive a vivid image of a book written by Leon and to display it on the Retina Display that is my mind's eye. "A book?" said a man named Shawn. "Don't make me laugh." I'm only guessing that if I told any man named Shawn that I want to write a book, his reply would be thus, and not thusly since I hate that word almost as much as I hate mayonnaise.

"Maybe my niche is cooking!" I exclaimed at the NPCs running across the 100-inch cinema display on the wall. "Oh it's YOU," they all said in a somewhat eerily familiar voice. I can't win. And that is how I turned my attention to rings.

I promised Bev (all these names!) that I would explain a little about three rings. I wear a size 12 on my index finger, in case you were wondering. Text me for my address.

1) A ring with skulls on it. I know what you're thinking. Yes, it is brilliant, thanks.

2) Griever - if I could get my hands on a Griever, I'd wear it.

It's quite possible that it's hard to see how cool this thing is, but that's your problem. With this ring, I could assume the power to be pessimistic, introverted, and yield a gunblade. What more would one want? An impeccable segue.

3) This obscure, extremely rare ring has an inscription that reads:

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

You better know the kind of powers I would assume sporting this bad boy around! Of course, with both Griever and The One Ring, I would be unstoppable(!), and yet be precisely the same as I am now: a world record setting, Harry Potter reading, video game playing, NPC interacting, clever title inventing, iPhone messing, gerund forming dude. Sans girlfriend. Sans life. Sans niche.

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No Subject

OK, Bev. Here's a list of things so far: Lost, Pokemon, HP 100", Glenn Miller, Hayao Miyasaki, Arrested Development, Teppanyaki, 12 oz. Mountain Dew or otherwise caffeinated soda, TNG, 8447 talk. I can't remember any more. I guess this could have been a text.

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Mountain Dew Challenge

I promised to keep you updated (followers, people who actually care about me, and the rest of you) on how the Mountain Dew challenge is going. For those of you just joining us, I was challenged to celebrate the arrival of the iPhone 4 by drinking 24 cans of Dew in 24 hours. Sounds easy enough, right? I will now begin my report.

I prepped by not eating anything past 12:30 pm yesterday, and not having a Dew past 8:00 pm. That allowed me some decent rest and a completely empty stomach for today. Starting just past noon today, and accompanied by a smoked brat and the best beans one can buy in the midwest, I began.

Feelin' pumped and ready to go! You can tell, can't you?

Just kickin' back another'n. This is going to be easy.

Just before a 1.5 hr teleconference. Yes, that is a Ninja Turtles buckle. Yes, I did make a break for the bathroom the second it was over.

Still going strong before number 4, though I'm feeling a little full. It's now about 3:00 pm. I've just been informed that Dew has 55 mg caffeine per can X 24 cans = 1,320 mg caffeine.

Starting number 5! Already dreading having to work out after work.

A quarter (0.25) of the way there once I finish this one. Not sure how I just walked/ran 2 miles, but I'm feeling OK. I've easily had this much caffeine in my system before.

Trying to engulf the entire can.

Jean-Luc and I are homies.

Starting to feel the caffeine AND sugar. Kind of want to extract my entrails at this point. This is slightly harder than I thought!

Laughing uncontrollably in my tie-dye. Heart rate monitored at a steady 102 bpm.

Number 11 needs to be stabbed. But will you look at my beautiful hair!

Feeling irritable. Halfway.

This would be a lot more fun with more people.

Notice the screen. I said NOTICE IT!

Dreading number 15. Not at all tired. I could probably run a marathon in 40 minutes flat with the energy I'm building up. That's a lie.

Empty polaroid magnets. Such is my life. Although I shoot at thee, number 16, I still love thee. The citrusy flavor, the jolt of caffeine entering into my bloodstream, this I-haven't-eaten-anything-since-noon-yet-I'm-unbelievable-full-and-probably-dehydrated feeling. I should probably stop before you think I'm weird.

Well what else would I be doing? Honestly.

Fell asleep, woke up an hour later, didn't care enough to write "18" any darker, nor comb my hair, nor had I any desire to drink that can in my hand. But I did, oh yes, YOU, I did. Only 6 more to go by noon.

Starting out the day strong after only sleeping a maximum of 3.23 hours. Blah.

I was caught. Or maybe I was hot and the cool can on my face was quite refreshing. Either way, my hotness is not in question.

Hair looking quite delightful today. What's it to you, anyway?

"I don't want to drink you," he proclaimed, as if that was news to others around him.

So. Close. Second to last can!

My iPhone 4 showed up at 11:15. Becky wouldn't let me have it until I finished can 24. So I chugged it. This is me just before the chug is to take place, and you can tell I'm excited because my hands are in the air and I'm smiling.

And here is the moment you have all been waiting for. Did our hero, being me, because I am the hero today, and everyday, complete his challenge? The new world record for consumption of Mountain Dew in a 24-hour period goes to our very own Leon. Video.

You can click the video itself to bring it up in YouTube to get fullscreen, since it is slightly cut off on the right. And you needn't concern yourself with all that is said, unless you want to. Not closed-captioned. Peaceful music. Lovely.

Notes:

• These notes will be redundant to those paying attention
• World record: most Mountain Dew consumed in a 24-hour period.
• If you happen to find a higher record, inform me in the comments section.
• If you happen to break my record, you are crazy.
• Sugar consumed: just over 5.5 cups.
• Caffeine consumed: 1,320 mg.
• Still feeling nauseated.

I would like to thank those of you who offered support for your support, and for those of you that didn't offer support, shame on you.

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Early Termination?

Dear friends,

I received an email confirming my love and dedication to Apple. Yes, I do love them and am quite dedicated. I bet you didn't know that.

In honor of this new bit of knowledge, I will be starting the world-record breaking, dew-drinking challenge today at noon. Stay tuned.

If I don't make it, I wanted to take this time to thank my faithful blog readers, more so those that publicly follow me, and bid you farewell.

Hoping this isn't the end,
Leon

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The Challenge

I never back down from a challenge. Well, sometimes I don't. Allow me to asplain:

In order to properly celebrate the release of the iPhone 4, this guy named Mike challenged me to drink 24 cans of Mountain Dew in 24 hours starting next Wednesday at noon, and ending, clearly, the next day, Thursday, the 24th of June, 2010, at noon. Let's see you form a sentence with that many commas!

The rules:

• Drink 24 cans of Mountain Dew in 24 hours
• Any can of Mountain Dew will do, as long as it's a can of Mountain Dew
• I have 24 hours to complete the challenge, which is to drink, on average, one can of Mountain Dew per hour
• Start at noon on Wednesday, June 23, 2010, and end at noon the next day, which is effectively 24 hours

If you're still asking yourself questions on the details of the challenge, see the list of FAQs below.

I'll need a good way to document this. Basically, it will be on the honor system, so in order to prove that I actually did it, I was thinking about snapping a photo of me opening or drinking each can, and then writing about my mood on the internet. Here. Any thoughts?

FAQs:

Q: 24 cans of Mountain Dew in 24 hours? Are you crazy? What are the terms of the challenge?

A: Yes. Mostly. In his own words, "If you win, you get to keep your iPhone. If you lose, well, looks like I'm switching over to AT&T."

Q: What type of liquid will work for the challenge?

A: Mountain Dew only, all varieties.

Q: How much (i.e. quantity) will be consumed?

A: 24 cans.

Q: How long will be allotted to complete the challenge?

A: 24 hours.

Q: This Leon character seems intriguing. Where can I meet such an amazing guy?

A: All questions must be submitted in writing.

THIS JUST IN!!!!!!!

Found this here today:

Q: What is the world record for drinking Mountain Dew?

A: The largest instance of a single-day consumption I can find is 6.2 liters. That can't be healthy!

Calculations.

2 liters = 67.6 ounces

6.2 liters = 209.56 ounces

1 can = 12 ounces

24 cans = 288 ounces (!!!)

So, according to the nice ChaCha folks, if successful (and I will be) I will hold the world record for consumption of Mountain Dew! That's gotta count for something.

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Smell

I've had about 37 ideas lately for a new blog post. They just come to me, these awe-inspiring, magnificently-ingenious ideas. This, however, is not one of them.

Perhaps I shall tell you a story.

People smell. Sometimes they smell good, other times not so good. Take, for example, blueberry girl. Blueberry girl smelled like blueberries, naturally. In contrast with blueberry girl, we have dog-poo-breath girl. Two bits to anyone who guesses her distinct smell! That's only a quarter, or twenty-five cents, which really isn't very much these days. It will get you 5% of a pizza, were we measuring by The Grass Man's standards. But we're not. Sorry to burst your proverbial bubble.

Dog poo doesn't smell very good. The sad thing is that some people just smell like it. This was the problem with dog-poo-breath girl.

It started out like any normal relationship. I was at Lake Powell camping on the beach with some cool folks when these girls walk past the camp. They walk past again. And again. Who could blame them? A couple smokin' hot guys hangin' out with no shirts on. Muscles, I tell you. I'D walk past two or three times...

A day later, I was cruising along on [my] blazing-fast wave runner--I was doing at least 60--when I spot those same two girls just chilling on this beach. So I pull up next to their wave runner, no shirt, mind, and realize I have no idea what I'm going to say. I manage to get my vocal chords to create some noises, and with the gaps in my teeth form the stereotypical guy first-liner: wanna race? Really? That was it?

They snickered.

And giggled.

And said yes.

After spending the rest of the week with these girls, I began fancying one of them. At one point, during an intense-yet-life-threatening tube ride (I HATE tubes), I confessed my ever-growing love for her and asked for her code-name @ server dot com. Amazed she didn't suddenly label me as a creeper, I pulled out a pencil and paper I conveniently had hidden in my swimming trunks (I was topless) and jotted down her contact info.

Weeks later, we began hanging out. I had to drive 2 hours to see her, which I did. We went caving and hiking and patch-adams-watching. The older sibling I like to call Shawn (since that's his name) told me one day, "Dummy, you need to kiss her." That night I drove the two-hour drive to kiss her. That night was also the night I realized her breath smelled like dog poo. It was also the night that she gave me more opportunities to kiss her than I have fingers and toes (18, folks). She took me hiking in the dark, we walked on a beach in our sandals, we watched a romantic movie named Patch Adams. During the movie, I started pretending to be really tired, yawning 2 gazillion times every 2 gazillion seconds (so I'm not very original - sue me) and after the 23rd yawn, she stood up, took my hand, pulled me up, walked me to the door. Last opportunity. With each word she said, I would wait for her breath to find its way safely past my nose before I would breath in. As you can probably guess, I didn't kiss her that night.

Nor the next night.

Nor did I ever speak to her again.

Take home lesson: make sure to always clean your tongue with a toothbrush/electric sander. This is the part where you call me shallow and whatever other mean names you can conjure up in the comments section. Love.

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Monday's List

Top 7 (seven) favorite things.

• Avocado iced cream
• A mayo-less existence
• Creating custom spreadsheets to aid in creating the best Oblivion character possible
• Her?
• Would you rather questions
• Antagonizations
• [Choose your own 7th in the comments section]

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