The Dax Files

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The Life and Times of 

Dax Montana

Hunting for the Finer Things of Life

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Saturday, September 20, 2003

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Well Hung…

…Over that is. I poisoned myself with alcohol. Those Redheaded sluts kicked my ass. Damn You Jagermeister! I didn’t follow my own advice last night. I always tell other people to drink a large glass of water, eat three aspirin, and chew two Tums before bed. I usually follow those simple instructions. Only last night, I drank a large glass of Jagermeister, ate three leftover chicken wings, and chewed a hole on the inside of my cheek before falling face first into the bed. Did I say that I feel like ass? Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 1:00:32 PM

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May I Retort?

Stevie at Caught in the X fire has some glowing remarks about ole Dax. I almost blushed until she went on some rant about hunting. Granted Stevie is an animal lover, but that doesn’t mean I’m not. I have a healthy respect for the animals I hunt. It’s not as easy hunting deer as sitting in a tree stand and pulling a trigger.

The whole aspect of the tree stand is the culmination of hunting. Sure, go into the woods, climb a tree and wait for a deer to just happen to come by. You’re going to wait an awful long time. A hunter researches the land, looking for deer trails, scrapes, rubs, and droppings. Hunters survey the terrain, keeping an eye out for food sources and natural firebreaks. After all the hunting is complete, that is when the tree stand is built. The stand will produce only if the hunter did the job correctly.

Then there is the Camouflage. It’s more than wearing clothes to break up light patterns. It’s masking your scent. Try hiking in the woods for a mile with a rifle, pack, boots, and not sweating. Good luck.

A hunter has to be proficient with his weapons. I have spent hours sighting and shooting my bow, holding back eighty pounds until my muscles ache. Then there’s the endless time at a gun range doing the same things.

I wouldn’t call hunting a sport in the traditional competitive sense. However, it is more of a sport than a game. Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 6:54:33 AM

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Commercials That Suck

I am a recovering TV junkie. I admit that I like to watch a lot of crap. I think that Blogging has gotten me out of the regular TV habit, but I still get a TV jones every now and again.

I have started compiling a list of Commercials that need to be retired. Yea, they might have been funny, oh, the first 100 times I saw them. Some were just crappy from the beginning.

The fat Kleenex kid has gotta go. Instead of Kleenex to stop the bleeding, He should have not used his mother’s razor.

Christy Lane, Jesus Christ, get some new material. That tired worn out song is done. Everyone who is going to buy your record has. Now shut the fuck up already.

That stupid Mitsubishi break dance while riding in a car Commercial. That’s so 90’s. Girl, if you had any real dancing ability, I’d have seen you in something else by now.

Any collect call commercial. Please, for the love of God, get a cell phone. Unlimited, anytime, anywhere minutes are available for cheap. Carrot Top, John Stamos your careers are over. Use your left over money to buy a used car dealership or something. Just get the fuck off my TV.

Fran Drescher your career is over when your entire body of work has been reduced to a nasal laugh in an Old Navy commercial. That’s pathetic enough without me adding any additional comment.

At least I haven’t seen that damn Listerine Guy in a while. Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 6:04:35 AM

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Life is a Series of Dogs

Pepper was a schnauzer. He joined our family after my Grandmother’s sister passed. Pepper’s owner was a court clerk in Naples, Florida. I was told that Pepper went to court with her everyday. I guess he was a big lap dog of sorts. Well, this dog came with papers and a wardrobe. He had little sweaters and hats. He even had a winter coat and a yellow rain slicker. It was cool to dress him up in all of his outfits. When our friends came over, we were like, “hey, check this out!” and dress up the dog. All us kids would laugh our Asses off. I kind of felt sorry for him. Of course the novelty wore off and his little clothes ended up in some closet.

Where I come from, dogs lived outside. They didn’t have namby pamby doggy clothes. They worked guarding the property or hunted. What they didn’t do was dress up in yellow rain slickers. Pepper was the most trick-trained dog I’ve ever seen. He would fetch all day if you kept tossing his toy. He would shake, stay, and rollover too. His most impressive tricks were the “Back up” and the “Freeze.” (Yea, like I know dog trick names) The “back up” worked like this. You held his toy out in his face and told him to “back up.” That dog would hop backwards about two or three times. Tell him to back up again, and he would hop back. That damn dog would back into walls and over shoes or whatever. He just wanted that toy. The other trick was perhaps the coolest. You could balance a dog biscuit on his nose, tell him to freeze, and that dog would hold that pose till you snapped your fingers. We’d have that dog freeze ‘til drool almost hit the floor. We were cruel kids sometimes.

As kids, we might have been cruel. However, this dog had some cruel bastard for a vet. About a week before my great aunt moved to Atlanta, the vet convinced her to have all the dog’s teeth removed. I figure it was the one last vet bill. The old lady took her dog to the vet as much as she went to the doctor. That cash cow was leaving. Let’s soak her one last time. Speaking of soak, that’s what he had to do to the dog’s food. The dogs tongue would stick out because he had no teeth to hold it in his mouth.

After the house burned down, (another story for another time perhaps) someone took Pepper from the backyard. I hope whoever took him, soaked his food and gave him a damn sweater. Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 4:46:12 AM

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Goodbye Old Friend

My old friend is in some serious need of life support. Never mind, I just unplugged her. Time of death, 18:12. After nearly fifteen years of faithful service, the old 19-inch Panasonic television finally gave up the ghost. First, she stopped showing the lower VHF channels. The progression of channel loss finally progressed until the only channel that came in was a Spanish channel.

That old friend has been with me through the good times and bad. Countless late night insomnia bouts spent watching her golden glow will be missed. Oh, how I’ll miss the slick feel of her remote buttons, and the ease of use.

However, I look to the future. I picture myself standing before the Best Buy Television Altar selecting a replacement model to worship in my late night vigils. So many choices and so little time. Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 7:00:35 PM

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Taking A Day Off

My boss made me take yesterday off. He had another manager scheduled to do some maintenance around the restaurants. I had gotten most of the tasks done while working my usual shifts. Hence, I got a day off and the other manager got to work a shift and finish the maintenance.

Surprisingly enough, I did not sleep away my day off. I haven’t been sleeping well at all lately. Just little catnaps for a couple of hours. I forced myself to stay awake so that I might be able to spend some relaxation time with the family.

Although, I didn’t do any posting, I think I read every Blog on the Internet. At least it feels like it. My brain felt like runny oatmeal and I couldn’t seem to hold a coherent thought kind of like this post.


posted by Dax Montana 10:38:29 AM

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It’s Carnival Time!

The big one-year anniversary of The Carnival of the Vanities is live! Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 3:20:21 AM

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Way to Much Coffee!

I’m still awake. The workday that will never end continues. After closing the bar Sunday night, I had to open it Monday. Of course, I was scheduled to close again. I figured that it would be a gravy shift. Mondays are slow. Murphy’s Law kicked my ass. Who would have thought that only 2 employees were going to show up?

I figured I’d get home at a reasonable hour. Murphy kicked me in the nuts. How was I to know that Monday Night Football would go into overtime? Just Damn! I think my kidneys are going to shut down from all the coffee. Oh my mind is wide-awake. My body is toast!

I did earn yet another day off! What a bargain, work five hours, get paid for nine. I just need to actually take the time off.


posted by Dax Montana 6:36:48 AM

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Big Brothers Are Assholes

My little brother isn’t so little anymore. He’s a 34-year-old man. The tall skinny kid is starting to fill out that lanky frame. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still kick the livin’ crap out of him should I deem it necessary. He’s just moved on. We were never really close except when it came down to both of us getting an ass whuppin’. Then we were as thick as thieves.

The Lysol incident reminded me of him. I think it’s because of all the crazy shit we used to pull. I must admit he did take the brunt end of a lot of big brother abuse. Occasionally, he’d get his licks in.

There used to be a long orange fiberglass pole in our garage. It used to be a bicycle flag only there was no flag part. It was about a quarter inch in diameter, and then tapered off into a point. Certainly not something a kid should be playing with. But play with it I did. I used to stab stuff like crispy magnolia leaves or school papers. Maybe I’d hold it at the fat end and whip it around. It cut through the air with a whitt, whitt, whitt sound.

Over the period of a few weeks, while waiting for my pals to come over, I’d sit on the curb with my orange pole. Out of sheer boredom, I began to rub the fat end of the pole on the black asphalt. I was honing a sharp point on the flagpole. Fiberglass doesn’t wear easily. I would get little fiberglass splinters in my hands. Anyway, I finally had this long orange spear. I got pretty good at throwing it too. The pointed heavy end gave it just enough balance to fly just right.

So one day, while spearing stuff in the yard, my brother decided to fuck with me. He was smaller and quicker. He could run farther faster and knew he had the outdoor advantage. I was on the upper slope of the yard talking with my neighbor. I don’t exactly remember what he did, but it was pissing me off. I had that orange pole and tried to whip him. He was quick. He took off running. He got about thirty yards away, and I let my spear loose. I have that slow motion memory so vivid in my head now. That spear sailed through the air. The middle of the spear was wobbling and flexing all the way…. Into the instep on that little bastard’s shoe. The sight of this long orange pole sticking out of my brother’s foot. Damn Just Damn! It trips him up, and he tumbles head over heals and orange pole into the front yard.

I’ll never forget the sight of my little brother screaming bloody murder in the front yard with this five foot long orange bicycle flagpole sticking out of his foot. In that fraction of a second moment of did that really happen, the realization of what a great shot that was struck us both. What were the chances of that spear actually hitting my brother? One million? One billion to one? And then to see him tumble in the dirt like that. What an awesome shot!

I ran over to my now cussing brother to examine the damage, Ahh, only a flesh wound. I help him up and helped him limp into the house. If you ask him about this incident, he’ll tell you what an awesome shot that was. Then he’ll tell you I’m an asshole before he begins to tell the Great Staple Gun War story. He gets a little payback in that tale. It’s no wonder he never calls me. Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 5:35:26 AM

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Cul-De-Sac All Around

Kelley has typed her fingers to the bone for this week’s Cul-De-Sac. Lots of good stuff for your reading enjoyment. Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 4:01:50 AM

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Pain?

Do cockroaches feel pain? I just half-smashed one. It was last seen doing the one-legged back kick, going round and round the toilet. The roach guts protruding from its abdomen looked like processed cheese from a can. I didn’t need a cracker. That’s for damn sure.

Then I did something really fucked up. I don’t know exactly what came over me. I saw my lighter sitting on the vanity beside a can of “country fresh” Lysol. Before I knew it, I had a mini flamethrower shooting a burst of fiery death upon the swimming vermin. All the while, I was doing my best Robert Duval from Apocalypse Now, “I love the smell of Lysol in the morning.” Then I flushed. Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 3:56:19 AM

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I Must Be Crazy

While working, I just realized I was actually waiting to hear the "news" story about the Ben and J-Lo breakup. Then I'm posting about it. Just Damn!

posted by Dax Montana 7:34:18 PM

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Bandwidth Killer

Acidman killed my bandwidth. That Bastard! Actually, it’s not all that bad. You are reading this aren’t you? Just some of the image files have reached their bandwidth limit. Very weird indeed.

I just had a quite lengthy email conversation with Mr. Jay Solo. He suggests Hosting Matters. I will probably change hosts. I don’t want this happening again. Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 4:37:42 AM

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Daddy’s Little Girl

My Daughter is four years old today. She is the only girl born on my side of the family in seven generations. She is spoiled rotten and should be. She won’t take shit from anybody. Truly rough, tough, and hard to bluff. She gives her brothers a run for their money. As hard as it is, she is raised to be a girly girl. No tomboy here. I was told that I have two boys and Ashlyn is not to be a Tomboy. The Wife and Grandmothers told me so.



We celebrated her birthday with the extended family last Thursday. She’s growing up so fast. Just Damn!


posted by Dax Montana 4:08:09 AM