Damn Trash Cans


“There is salt and pepper all over this counter, what the hell were you doing last night?”

That’s what I ended up thinking when I woke up the next morning. If you read I Didn’t Eat My Vegetables When I Was A Kid, you have heard about this infamous trash can. This is one of many great times I had with my friend Eric, after all if you can’t laugh during a bad situation, you are not having that much fun in life.

There I was laying in my bed, at the time I had of those bunk beds that had a futon on the bottom that you could fold into a couch. I had a small bedroom in this apartment, by the time you put a desk against one of the walls and the bed against the opposite wall, you didn’t have more than 2 inches (5.25 centimeters) between the edge of the bed, when it was folded out, and the back of my desk chair.

This means that the television, the old big box television, was about 3 feet away from you when you sat on the couch.  This made a great spot for playing video games or watching TV. However that night I was sick, I may have had something on the TV, but I was sleeping between my “episodes of sickness.”

I think it was about the fifth or sixth time I woke up that night, my door was closed and I did my “sick thing” again. At that point I decided that the trashcan needed to be emptied and washed out, again. As I get myself out of bed the door opens, who is it, Eric. It was about three in the morning at this time and Jason, who just got into bed, had to get up in 3 hours.

Eric then sat down to watch TV, rather it was already on or not I can not remember, mind you that Eric came into my bedroom with two double shots of whiskey.

Eric then started talking to me saying a bunch of nonsense, I stop him and said, “you may not want to sleep in here,” he then asked why, I looked at him like he was dumb and said, “because I’m sick.” “I don’t care man,” he said as I was picking up the trashcan. “Do you need to empty that” he asked, and I said yes, then the trashcan was ripped away from me.

I hear him dumping the trashcan into the kitchen sick, not the bathtub; but I was thinking to myself, “whatever, it’s already done, yelling at him wont do anything.” I’m laying in bed again as he comes in and starts talking to me, “where is my trashcan” I asked, “what trashcan” he asked.

After a slight pause in conversation, “Can I take these shots of whiskey before I go get your trashcan,” he asked me before he stood up. I didn’t really have a problem with Eric drinking more, because I can’t really stop him; and he is an adult, if he wants to drink some more he can.

I’m laying in my bed watching whatever channel he turned it to, and he comes back into my room with a trashcan, but it was not the original one. He brought me the tall 13 gallon trashcan, I will refer to this as a black trash can.

“What the hell man.” He asks me what he did wrong, as far as he was concerned I asked for a trashcan; so he brought me a trashcan. As I’m trying to explain to him that it is not the white trash can, which took about 5 minutes to do, he is also trying to tell me that there was no such thing as a white trash can. He eventually decides to go find this trashcan that no longer exists!

He comes back into my room after about ten minutes, but this time he had another shot of whiskey. It was a single shot this time, but there were now three shot glasses in my room, one that was about to be drank. I looked at him with a confused look on my face and said, “what the hell man, I can’t throw up in there.”  

He sits down to watch TV and talks to me about his ex, who I really didn’t care about, but he is my best friend so I got to act like I care. I remind him, after he starts to cry, that he needs to go get my trashcan, so he leaves the room again.

He comes back with the black trashcan, keep in mind that the bag was still in the can and it was full of trash. As I’m yelling at him that the trashcan is not white and there is in fact a white trashcan by the sink, where he left it. 

“What the hell guys, shut up I need to go to work in two hours,” Jason was yelling at both of us from his bedroom. I finally decided that I was just going to have to clean out both trash cans in the morning. I told him that he can bring me the black trash can but he needed to take out the bag.

He turns around in the hallway, with trashcan in hand, and disappears for an unknown amount of time.

This time he comes back into my room with a piece of toast, that was actually toasted and not brunt! He sits down and eats this toast, the whole time I’m looking at him as if he just lost all use of short-term memory. This whole time he is eating I do not say anything to him, I just continue to stare. By the time he ate about half of his toast he looked at me and said, “what.” 

After telling him about the trashcan again he leaves my room, with his last half of eaten toast. He returns to my room, this time with the trash bag alone and full of trash, not tied. I’m starting to get very annoyed as I explain to him that not only can I not throw up into a plastic bag full of trash, I can’t stand it up either.

He disappears into the dark part of the house and drifts back into the dim light with a salt and pepper shaker, both full. “What am I going to do with those man? Throw up on the floor and hope I have enough salt to soak it up,” Eric looked at me like a little puppy, like he did something right and I should pat him on the head.

I was tired of this going on, most people would have been about an hour ago, but Eric is my best friend, and it was highly comical to me. At this point I figured that no matter how many things I tell him to do he wont get any of them right.

He was in my room again and saw the empty shot classes and asked me if I wanted to take a shot with him! After I tell him that I’m not going to take a shot with him, he asked me if he can have a shot. I tell him that at this point he was not allowed to drink anymore. He asked me why and I had to explain to him that for the past hour or two I have been asking him to do shit for me, and he didn’t get anything right; and he misplaced the white trashcan in the kitchen, that apparently didn’t exist anymore.

“Bring me the damn black trashcan,” he already took the bag out of the trashcan. He comes back with the black trashcan, without a bag in it. He then shuts the door because I told him to, hey he got something right!

He sits down in my desk chair and gets on the computer to look at porn, which is kinda weird, but whatever.

He then turns around to talk to me, I don’t remember what he was trying to tell me but I interrupted him to say that in the morning I was going to find a white trashcan.

Soon after he ended up slumping over in the chair with his forehead rested on my knee. If he was awake he would be staring at the floor. I eventually kicked his forehead off of me and turned off the TV, I just let him sleep on the floor. Luckily I did not have to throw up again the rest of the night, so in all reality Eric didn’t have to do anything.

The following morning I woke up, like I do most mornings I turned on the TV. Eric was no longer on the floor, at some point during the night he had enough sense to jump onto the top bunk.

When Eric woke up, we start talking. I found out what I assumed, he did not remember any of last night. At this point he knew of the white trash can, so we got up to go into the kitchen to find something to eat. I walked out there to find some interesting things.

A trash bag with trash in it, but no trashcan. A white trashcan by the sink. A few empty shot glasses next to a bottle of half empty whiskey. Salt, pepper, and sugar shakers in the middle of the counter. A half eaten piece of toast. Full cups of water; and apparently when he made toast he thought it would taste really good with salt, sugar, and pepper; that he got all over the counter.

I promised him I would not tell this story to anyone, but you don’t know him. So does it matter? I find the whole thing highly comical and I cherish these type of stories. He really was a great guy, I just baby sat him more often than I would have liked to. After we got done cleaning everything I took him home. That was the trashcan story, I hope you found it amusing, if so please let me know by leaving a comment below.

10 Things Not to Say to a Person in a Wheelchair


I’ll be gone for a while, because I’m working on another idea that will then be a post. Not like more than 3 of you care, but I’m going to try to keep my promise of doing updates fairly often. This has come to my mind after reading a post on The Huffington Post.

I am however going to put my own spin on it, as you may know I am a person who is a wheelchair, so I feel like I’m more than qualified to give my following experiences on the following. In the following article, I say ‘you’ a lot, I may not be addressing you, however the word you is a good way of keeping ones interest.

1.Slow down there. You might get a speeding ticket. 

I understand that you are telling me to slow down. Cops do not give you speeding tickets for running, do they? It’s exercise right? We can’t use our legs, and some of us can’t use our arms either, but to the ones of us in manual wheelchairs we see it as exercise too.

It is a rather annoying question, after being in a wheelchair for the past 27 years, on and off, I have a pretty good idea how to control my wheelchair, more than most people would assume. For some reason, some, able-bodied individuals assume those in a wheelchairs are mentally incompetent.

Our goal is not to hit you, and even if we do all you’re going to turn around and say “I’m sorry.” Remember this question is not original, we hear it more than you realize.

2. What happened to you?

While I do not mind asking this question, it is still a very rude question to ask. I’m sure we can find a problem with you and ask the same thing.

I don’t mind answering the question because it shows that someone is willing to get to know me, more often than not people who do get to know me tend to fall in love with the person I am.

However as you may have read in I Didn’t Eat My Vegetables As A Kid there are a handful of people who should not ask me this question. If you want to ask someone this question you should get to know that person first.

3. How fast does that thing go?

This happens to be a question heard by those in automatic wheelchairs, however I have heard it before, a few hundred times. We don’t keep a radar detector on us, and even if we did, I highly doubt it would even pick that up.

I assume it’s as fast as you can run, you don’t see us going around asking how fast you can run. I would just advise you don’t ask it because it shows us your ignorance.

4.  Do you know so and so in a wheelchair too?

Okay, I most likely do not. Just because people in wheelchairs happen to be a minority does not mean we all know one another. That’s like asking you if you know John Doe because he too is an atheist, or do you know Andy Smith, he also served in the military.

5. Is your significant other also in a wheelchair? 

Why would you even assume that only handicapped people can only love other handicapped people? My girlfriend is not in a wheelchair, nor was my kids mother, or my father.

Love does not have limits.

Speaking of love, if someone makes you happy, it’s not anyone’s place to tell you that you can’t be; religion or otherwise.

That is another ignorant question, if you want to be seen as a nice person you might want to rethink your line of questioning.

6. I’d rather die than be disabled.

If you even want to say that to me, or any other disabled person, regardless of the severity of said disability, just go stick your head up your ass and never come back.

Even if you really think like that, we don’t want to hear it; chances are we don’t even want to know you.

7. You’re good-looking for being in a wheelchair.

Well thank you, but who says that we can’t just be good-looking, do you really have to add the ‘for being in a wheelchair’ part.

We need to look good from time to time too, just like you. Other then it being a rude question anyways, it makes it sound as if you label us as less than human.

8. Good for you.

We had to adapt to living in a wheelchair, that means we learned how to do really basic stuff such as picking shit up off of the floor, opening doors, or even going outside. Don’t make us feel like we’re incompetent.

9. Can I ask you a personal question?

This goes really well with question number 2 and I don’t know what more I can say about that. However we do get several other weird questions.

From what I understand people are wanting to know if I am able to have sex. Most are smart enough not to ask me, but they fail by asking my girlfriend. Is she not supposed to be mad at the same question?

Ask a valid question, that is not rude, we are not talking parrots on display for your amusement.

10. Hey Speed Racer. Can you pop a wheelie?

Don’t be going around referring to a grown adult by a cartoony name. Just because I’m going by you does not mean you need to be calling me Speed Racer.

I do not mind the wheelie part of the question however, I can do it, and I even taught some of my friends, who were not disabled, to be able to do it to.

I Didn’t Eat My Vegetables When I Was A Kid


I have a lot of ideas of what to write, but I figure that if I want people to read my stuff I have to entertain them as well, so I bring to you one of my many stories in life that you might find amusing.

Some of you might not find this funny, some of you might want to call me a jackass, hopefully you don’t.

I try to color my stories with words that make you feel like you were there, so if you are one of those that do not like to read a lot, this is not the story for you.

The year was around the time frame of 2008, summer I think, in Washington State. I was sitting at home doing nothing and was feeling board, as I was wondering around my apartment trying to find something to do as my friend Eric called

Guys keep their phone conversations really short, “man, I’m bored” so I said “me too,” after I said “I’m coming to pick you up” I hung up the phone, I pressed the end button on my archaic cell phone, before high-definition and touch screens were even a thing. Back when polyphonic ringtones were the bees knees and the cats pajamas.

On a side note this was a Monday, I remember that because I just took my son back to his moms the day before.

We got back to the apartment and still didn’t have much to do other than watch TV.

Back then Eric really liked his alcohol, at that time I lived with a roommate that kept a liquor cabinet. This particular liquor cabinet had a pretty good selection. We used to have parties at the apartment where Jason, my roommate, would collect five dollars from everyone who wanted to drink, and if you gave him five dollars you could drink until you dropped.

That makes us sound irresponsible, we made sure that no one had more than they could handle, and we were very careful on which ones and how many of our friends were invited.

To make a long story short, Eric and I decided to drink that night, like most other nights. Eric was putting the ten dollars I gave him into the “liquor collection,” I looked at him and said “dude, were going to get hungry and then we wont be able to go anywhere” he pointed at me and said “so, you got food here” I then grabbed my car keys and told him that we were going to go get pizza.

It was a somewhat bright day out, it was in the summer so it was not raining, it was about 6:00 at night. As we are headed to my car I saw this kid riding on one of those skinny skateboards with a handle bar. This kid most definitely saw me before I saw him because as he approached us he asked “are you drunk?”

I knew this kid was talking to me for reasons you’ll find out. I quickly said “no,” he then asked “what is wrong with you?” With a very annoyed tone to my voice I said “everything” and looked down as I continued to walk towards my car.

Kids are curious, but they don’t understand some things! I didn’t want to sit there and have a long conversation with a kid that was, most likely, not going to understand the majority of what I had to tell him. Because of the fact that I was thinking, I toned out the whole conversation taking place between Eric and this kid.

As I’m thinking I also thought of my kids mom who once gave me the best idea of what to tell someone next time that question was asked.

I look up and join back into the conversation. As I’m looking at the kid I ask him “do you want to know why I walk this way?” Of course he said “yes,” after all that is why he came over to talk to us.  I then said “It’s a sad story man, I don’t know if I should tell you.” This did exactly what I wanted it to do, it peaked his interest. He was on the edge of his seat waiting for me to say more.

I looked at him and simply said “I didn’t eat my vegetables as a kid!” His eyes were very wide as he said “really?” Eric then said “yea man, it sucks, you better go eat some carrots or broccoli.” This kid ran across the yard, forgetting his scooter, to go back to his apartment.

As we sit in the car Eric is laughing as he tells me how great it was and asks me “where did you come up with that shit, that was the best thing I have ever heard.” I then proceeded to tell him that I kind of felt bad about it, he says “why man, he is at home right now eating vegetables, his parents are happy that you scared the shit out of him”.

We get back home from Alfy’s Pizza and it is now starting to get dark, street lights were starting to come on. After eating two pieces of pizza, I took a shot of vodka with Eric and as fast as I could I walked into the bathroom to throw up in the sink. I was not even drunk, but Eric gave me shit for it anyways.

You know how I told you it was on a Monday? I spent the rest of the night throwing up into an empty trash can. That brings up another story I will have to write about, it’s quite funny because Eric is drunk as hell at this point.

I was sick because that previous weekend I was hanging out with my kid, who was about three years old at the time, and he was very sick the whole weekend.

A few hours later my roommate came home and spends the rest of the night drinking with Eric as I lay in bed throwing up every two hours.

That is my story that I like to call ‘I Didn’t Eat My Vegetables When I Was A Kid.’  Maybe I’ll tell the whole ‘Trash Can’ story, it’s quite funny.

I hope you found entertainment in this story, I’d love to hear your comments. The longer you pay attention to this blog the higher your chances of finding out why I walk this way.