Patrick Says

Found at Buzzfeed.

I swear to you this story is true. I remember it only vaguely now, but it happened. At the time, I was looking for direction in life…but let’s start at the beginning.

After graduating high school in 1988, I had applied to attend the University of Missouri at Columbia. I felt like journalism was calling me and Mizzou had one of the best journalism programs in the country. But that got derailed when I got notice there was no on-campus housing and that if I wanted to go, I’d have to find my own place to live. As I was eighteen and knew absolutely NOTHING about the world, I panicked.

For some unknown reason, I got military service in my head as an option. And for some other unknown reason, I was considering the United States Marine Corps Reserve. Bear in mind that at the time, I was literally, the 98-lb. weakling. Maybe I thought the Corps could make a man out of me? Anyway, I went to see a recruiter.

They leaped on me when I walked in the door. I think they subconsciously salivate when they hear the door chimes. Of course, they were dying to have me join. The Corps was exactly what I needed, they said. That’s their job though. Enlist them no matter what. So dude sits me down in a room to wait to talk some other Marines (testimonials, of course) and gives me a book to thumb through. It’s a book with pictures of all kinds of fun Marine activities, you know, the typical recruitment stuff. All camaraderie and esprit de corps and huh-ray.

And on the last page, I kid you not, is a black-and-white picture of a semi-attractive woman…well, squatting, so you can kind of see the naughty bits. Now this was 1988 and shaving down there was not yet the standard, so there wasn’t a whole lot to see. But I got the idea. About then, the recruiter walks in and he’s all, ‘well, these are some of the things the Marines can offer’ while taking his booklet and not addressing the naked lady picture at all.

I told him I had to think about it. He wasn’t happy, but I left anyway. Ultimately, my brother (a life-long Navy guy) talked me into the Air Force and I think it was the right way to go. I do love the vagina, but you can get that with any of the military branches. Well, good-looking guys can anyway…

The other day, I was in Wal-Mart. I came across the blood pressure machine and decided to see what my blood pressure. I’m newly 40 and I guess it’s about the time in my life where I need to pay better attention to these kinds of things. So, I sat down and pressed the button to start the test.

The final reading was 171/113. I asked Jen if that was bad and she freaked out. I called for a doctor appointment.

I got to the doctor that next week and he takes a pressure reading and it’s around 140/110, which while borderline, is still okay. He tells me to monitor it for two weeks and we’ll see what kind of range I fall in. He also orders blood tests to check my cholesterol levels. I’m worried about this test. I eat crap. (Not literally, but health-wise, pure crap.) I figure my results are going to be THROUGH THE ROOF.

I get the blood work done and guess what?

MY NUMBERS ARE FINE. My triglycerides are a little high, but otherwise just fine. And I’m seriously scratching my head. How did this happen? I eat the worst, fattiest foods there are. I can only figure one of two things have been keeping my cholesterol in decent shape. It’s either all the spicy food I eat or it’s genetics, bitches!

(Patrick D. has no formal medical training and is darn near retarded. Please do not follow any advice you glean from this post. Seriously.)

On the way into work this morning, it occurred to me that there are not enough bikini car washes in this town. And by ‘enough’, I mean ‘any’. And then it also occurred to me that we keep talking about how small business can get us out of this economic slump and here’s a business no one is jumping on. So, here are five great reasons why someone should open a bikini car wash:

1. Creates jobs.

   I mean, really, let’s get that ages 18-24 woman demographic gainfully employed and earning money they can spend back into the economy. Not only will you need the bikini washers, you’ll need employees to wrap the hoses at the end of the day and a person to work the cash register and schedule shifts. And these jobs would be right in your own community. You can’t outsource these jobs to India.

2. Cleaner cars.

   Cleaner cars mean better resale values and better resale values means more money when you sell the car that can be spent back into the economy. Win-win!

3. Increased home values.

   Cleaner cars means neighborhoods look prettier. Prettier neighborhoods increase desire to live there. Increased desire means houses sell for more and then you have increased home values.



Not actual employee. (Psst...it's Katy Perry.)

4. Pride of ownership.

   Driving around in a beautiful car makes you feel great. And feeling great increases your confidence. And when your confidence is high, you perform better. You don’t do things like buy diet pills or make bad investments. You do better in job interviews or in your job, whether you’re a successful realtor or an idiot blogger who pretends he’s a writer. And all that productivity boosting is good for America.

5. Um, chicks in bikinis.

   Do I have to explain this one?

So, anyone remember that big section of my yard that I seeded in the spring? Last year, a retaining wall had collapsed. Due to lack of funds and all the medical problems we were going through, I didn’t have much opportunity to do anything about it. But this year, my neighbor two houses down had a bobcat and some spare time and offered to level it out. I would just need to plant grass and voilà, good yard again!

The grass was growing!

He leveled, I seeded and watered and did everything the seed bag said. And, much to my surprise, grass grew. Not just grew, but grew in beautifully. I mean, the lawn looked really nice. I even felt, dare I say it, pride. At least in that part of the yard. Apparently, like disability insurance, it was not meant to be…

For reasons I don’t know, the grass starting dying off, leaving huge bald spots everywhere. Not just that, but what was left was this thick, but fine covering of dead grass. It was like steel wool, if steel wool were grass-like. And just like that, all the pride was gone. I am once again, ‘that house’. Sucks…