Tag Archives: jon larsen

Cool Runnings (Quite Possibly the Dumbest Thing I’ve Ever Written)

So I had to do this focus group, right? It’s all about snowmobiles and why I’d want one, which clearly means I had to stretch the truth. I mean, what would I do with a snowmobile? I have no truck to transport it, no money to buy it, and absolutely zero interest in owning one in the first place. Nonetheless, there was a fifty dollar prize for whoever made the most creative piece (which I crushed by the way), and I figured I’d just mess around with it and see what came out. It’s terrible, utterly terrible, but it does have some moments. Here are the three questions I had to answer:

1) WHAT YOU THINK YOU WILL LOVE MOST ABOUT YOUR VEHICLE

Be it a snowmobile, personal watercraft, all-terrain vehicle, side-by-side vehicle, motorcycle, 3-wheel roadster or boat, we know you are contemplating ownership of one. Please let us know what you think you will LOVE most about it? Ultimately, what is the appeal? Why do you want one of these vehicles? Please show us through a few images.

2) WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO WITH YOUR NEW VEHICLE?

What do you envision doing with this power sports vehicle? Where will you go? With whom will you be? What activities will take place?

3) HOW DO YOU THINK YOU WILL FEEL?

Think about when you actually have this vehicle. Think about doing with it what you referred to on the prior page. How do you think it will feel? Please tell us about what you think it will mean to you to own it, use it, drive, ride it. What will you get out of it? Perhaps think about how you might complete the sentence – “Driving/riding my new vehicle will make me feel ____________.”

What is life like without it? How do you feel about not owning one today?

Here’s my response…………………………………………………………………………………………..

COOL RUNNINGS

Chapter 1

Since the dawn of time, snowmobiles (a.k.a. Chariots of the Arctic) have given humans quick access to areas that might otherwise take what feels like forever to get to. Not only are they insanely awesome to ride, they provide riders with a command of the elements that transcends them from the world of mere mortals to the realm of the Gods.

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They are fast, sleek, no nonsense machines that can be used in a variety of ingenious ways. For some, they are purely recreational; for others, necessary for survival in isolated communities. Carl Eliason, who is considered the inventor of the snowmobile, found  the machines to be ideal for hunting. “With this machine, I was able to turn the tables on my hunting comrades–as long as there was snow on the ground. While they hoofed it on foot, I would ride and get to our destination in the woods an hour ahead of them!” Although the machines can be loud enough to alert potential game of a hunter’s presence, the ability to move with relative ease through the snow is simply too advantageous to ignore.

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However, since I do not hunt, none of that applies to me. The real reason I would love my new snowmobile is similar why bikers love their motorcycles–they provide an avenue for going where no man has gone before, an enhancement of liberty as I continue my quest for discovering true freedom.

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True freedom and picking up chicks.

Chapter 2

Of course, there might be more to life than finding true freedom and meeting women. Possibly. For me, having fun with my friends brings color to my life, and having a snowmobile would allow us to color outside of the lines. I cannot say for certain where we go, as I envision me and my two best friends traveling through parts unknown, following our hearts into territories that would otherwise remain foreign to us. I can see it now; blizzards, bears, our own self-doubts–these would no longer be obstacles for us. If anything, they would provide us with unique moments to reminisce about once we got back to the lodge. A sense of comradery can be found through such experiences. I have no doubt that Mike Brown, Jon Larsen and I would become better friends because of our snowmobiles.

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I would also want to look like the polar version of Ayrton Senna, a Formula One race car driver who tragically passed before his time. I would coordinate my outfit to match my snowmobile with his image in mind, dressing all in red except for my signature yellow helmet. That way there would be no question who was lapping the other snowmobilers.

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Chapter 3

Obviously my snowmobile would make me feel awesome. Why wouldn’t it? Everything I’ve described rules so hard that I can’t imagine feeling anything less that fulfilled. True, eventually I would have to return to civilization and resume my day-to-day existence, but knowing that I now have the ability to feel that level of coolness–both figuratively and literally– would give me something to look forward to. Although the general drudgery of work would still be unavoidable, I’d know that soon I’d be flying across the snow.

Both figuratively and literally.

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Now that I think about it, life without my snowmobile totally sucks. Am I wasting my life? Why am I here right now, sitting in this room, when I could be out on the backwoods trails, the crisp wind chilling my face as my all-powerful machine warms my heart? Human beings are both blessed and cursed with our ability to conceptualize, and whereas thinking about my snowmobile while I sit in a cubicle is something I’d love, sitting in my cubicle thinking about how I don’t have a snowmobile is completely crushing. Life is already hard without having to realize that you don’t have a snowmobile, and with that in mind, is there really any question of why I want one in the first place? No, there isn’t.

I want a snowmobile.

I need a snowmobile.

And as God as my witness, I will have a snowmobile.

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Note: I chose these photos because they reflect exactly what I think when the word snowmobile comes to mind. Outside of Aryton Senna, all characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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My Future Suicide

I wrote this somewhere in a chapter of a book I’ve been working on. Nothing else in the chapter even remotely resembles this, as most of it is rather melancholy and reflective. Nonetheless, this went through my mind when a psychiatrist asked me if I had a plan on how I would commit suicide.

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SCENE: I rent out a motel room on skid row and go on a bender for a week (if there’s one thing that would make someone want to kill themselves, it’s a week-long bender.) Next, call Jon Larsen and tell him something is wrong and I need him to come down, now. That creates urgency and a feeling of foreboding. When he arrives, the door latch has been extended in order to keep the motel door slightly ajar, thereby providing Jon with access to the room. As he walks in, he tries to turn on the lights, but I have already smashed all the lightbulbs all over the ground so that every step he takes will be marked by the crunch of glass underfoot. A stereo will be playing distortion on an infinite loop. All the remnants of the bender will cover all flat services as if they were trophies. Across the room, the outline of a lit bathroom door will beckon him to walk towards it. As he moves across the distorted, glass covered room and gets closer to the bathroom, he’ll faintly be able to hear the subtle sound of music through the door. Finally he has arrived. He knocks, says, “Mike?” No answer. His frightened anticipation has reached its pinnacle. He opens the door and finds me naked and hanging as the song “Elvira” by the Oak Ridge Boys plays on repeat. Jon is now horrified and calls 911 while crying, though perhaps he’ll first instagram my dead body. For the rest of his life, no matter where he is or what context it happens, every time he hears Richard Sterban sing in his iconic bass tone, “Oom pappa oom pappa oom pappa mow mow,” he’ll automatically burst into tears, tormented, incapable of forgetting that terrible night, when what was left of his tormented soul was shattered into infinite pieces, and Spencer Wholrab would be super jealous. Fuck them all, mission accomplished.

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The answer I gave the psychiatrist was, “Well, sort of.”

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Mike Abu’s Guide to Beer

Today I’m going to teach you how to successfully open and drink a beer. This is a necessary skill for drinking a beer at home or at work, especially if there isn’t anyone around who can open a beer for you. Below is everything you need to know about how to drink a beer. Cheers!

Step 1) Ascertain if there is any beer in the fridge

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As you can see, there are many things in the fridge, but beer is not one of them. This is a problem. Luckily, unlike most problems in life, there is also a solution.

Step 2) Find money

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Money is any object or verifiable record that is generally accepted as payment for goods and services and repayment of debts in a particular country or socio-economic context. It can be exchanged for beer. Change is generally frowned upon for purchasing beer as it makes the cashier have to count for fucking ever, but sometimes all you have at your disposal is a jar of dimes and nickels. They are legal tender. Use them for beer.

Step 3) Take the elevator

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Elevators are useful for avoiding stairs.

Step 4) Walk to the bodega

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Proximity is key when it comes to bodegas, though sometimes the closest one doesn’t sell beer for no reason whatsoever. Know your bodega. It will come in handy for buying beer.

Step 5) Pick out beer

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You must choose, but choose wisely–your selection of beer says a lot about you. Beer comes in many flavors and sizes, and it can sometimes be overwhelming for novices. The keys are knowing how much money you have and how you feel about quantity vs. quality. Remember, O’Doul’s cannot be considered a beer, even though it calls itself a non-alcoholic beer. Beer has to have alcohol in it, otherwise it’s just a terrible soft drink for terrible people. Don’t be a fool.

Step 6) Pay for beer

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You cannot purchase beer if you are under 21 in America. You can ask older people to purchase it for you if that’s a problem. I use my state issued ID to prove to the cashier that I am old enough to buy beer. After awhile, they stop asking you for it, because you buy beer from them a lot and now you’re age is a given. However, sometimes they ask you anyways. Instead of being annoyed, say something like, “Oh, I’m flattered,” which implies that you still look underage, even if you don’t.

Step 7) Take beer home

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You can drink beer pretty much anywhere but certain cities consider outdoor drinking to be a public nuisance. They therefore try to stop you from drinking beer by giving you a ticket and/or jail time. This is because cops suck. It’s safest to stay in alley ways or indoors. Home is the best if you want to avoid stumbling up the road after drinking beer.

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Obviously you’re going to drink beer now, but you’ll probably want to drink beer later too, and you’ll probably like beer more if it’s cold. Fridges are made for keeping beer cold. Use them.

Step 9) Open beer

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Now you have a beer in front of you that’s almost ready to drink. But wait, there’s a problem…

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Indeed, this beer is closed. You cannot drink a closed beer no matter how hard you try. If you open it by smashing it with a rock, beer will spill everywhere but down your throat, the latter of which being the place you want to put beer. A knife would work in a pinch but luckily enough the beer industry has recognized the need for beer to be easily opened. A handy tab provides access.

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Pull tab upwards as so and…

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Voila! The beer is open!

Step 10) Drink beer

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You have successfully opened the beer which is now ready to be consumed with gusto. Put it to your mouth and drink it, you deserve it. Open, drink, repeat–that’s the best thing to do with beer. Congratulations! You are on you way to becoming a true alcoholic!

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