Gnomish Rejection and Medieval Encounters

All week I’ve been trying to get used to living in the Gnome Abode and trying to understand the social dynamic around this joint. I always thought of myself as an open minded gnome, but then again I’ve never been surrounded by so much diversity.

I grew up just wasting time backwoods of bumblefuck with my slackline buddies betting quarters on who could pull off the most whacked out tricks. Those were the days….I miss those guys. No one judged me for being too tall or too short or too bearded. Being on tour as a world class athlete can be difficult sometimes.

The big gnomes here don’t even seem to notice me. If only they knew how hard I could kick their asses. If only they could hear me from all the way down here so I could tell them…

You’d think that the gnomes that were closer to my height would be friendlier, but they’re not. They keep criticizing my hygiene and I don’t understand it. This one dude is OCD about brushing his teeth, another won’t stop combing his beard, and some Fatty McGoo is always checking his weight but never doing anything to shed the chub. I’m a gnome of the wilderness, where hygiene is overrated. I don’t really want those sort of pansies as buddies anyway, so whatever.

If my little Lego hand had a middle finger, I would have flipped it at every gnome here today. I hit an all time low point of loneliness this evening. So rather than mope around and get wasted like I usually do, I decided to slip outside the sliding glass door and explore the back yard. Much to my surprise, I discovered some creatures that looked a lot like me! I can’t be certain if they were really gnomes or not, but their facial features and body structure had a striking resemblance to my own.

Their little habitat has a bit of Medieval vibe, but maybe that decor is coming back into style these days. Check out the bangin’ hotties on the left side of the pic! That’s Bertha and Gertrude. When I asked for their screen names and blog sites, they gave me the most puzzled looks.

I asked the badass looking dudes dressed up as shiny knight gear if I could slackline across one of their swords. More puzzled looks. It really is like these strange creatures are stuck in 1542 or something.

Regardless of all of that, they were super friendly to me. So screw those gnomes back inside the Abode. I don’t need them and their judgment. I showed my new friends some line tricks across some treacherous boulders, gained their respect, and got invited to tea tomorrow afternoon.

Tea!! Who would have thought a stoner-slacker like me would ever be invited to tea?! Hopefully they’ll let me ride that cool looking horse tomorrow too.

Sweet dreams,

Sketchy Andy The Gnome

 

Pizza Orgasmica & Brewing Company: A Review By Self-Proclaimed Ladies Man, Lennon The Gnome

Well I’m finally sober enough to write a post. So hey guys, what’s up!?

We’re still in the tour van in the middle of the desert somewhere. I have no idea how we get wi fi out here but hey, who am I to complain?

Um. Um. What am I supposed to write about here? I need a story. What can I remember from our time in San Fran after our debut performance?

Pizza Orgasmica! That’s what I remember…of course!

http://www.pizzaorgasmica.com/

So this busty chick kept hanging around back stage after our show and stroking her fingers through my beard. It was dripping with sweat from our hardcore performance, but she didn’t seem to mind. She grabbed my trumpet from its case when I wasn’t looking and proclaimed that she wouldn’t give it back until I wined, dined, and sixty-nined her.

Fine. Whatever.

Just to get my trumpet back, (I swear that was the only reason) I took her to Pizza Orgasmica & Brewing Company. She’s a chick gnome so I’m assuming that her taste buds aren’t nearly as advanced and mature as mine. So I tried one of everything and well, she kinda sat there. Meanwhile, this lovely waitress delivered me brew after brew after brew.

I jotted down some tasting notes on the back of a crumpled receipt. Some of the most profound works of literature have been written in similar fashion. Just ask Emerson.

 

1. Golden Ale: no taste, watery, tastes like biscuits, gives me dry mouth aftertaste, bad for kissing

2. Four Grain Hefeweizen: orange aroma, smooth and creamy all the way through to the aftertaste, kiss me now

3. IPA: smells like a fern or plant of some kind, standard IPA, bitter lingering aftertaste, if IPAs smelled like weed I’d probably like them more

4. Blueberry Best Bitter:  awesome most blueberry smell I’ve ever smelt, good taste too, bitterness isn’t overwhelming and counters the sweetness, better than a recent blueberry oatmeal stout I had, feeling very healthy after a serving of fruit.

5. Porter:  average and insignificant, no smell, hint of barleywine flavor because of the alcohol content but otherwise totally standard, I think I fell asleep

6. Peach Pale Ale:  amazing on smell, I want to rub this all over my body like lotion,  tastes a bit bitter but balances out the sweetness, 6% alcohol isnt’ bad for a fruity beer, feeling excessively healthy after two servings of fruit

7. Pale Ale: I disagreed with myself at every sip as to whether it was bitter or sweet, super standard start, yet a smooth pleasant aftertaste, pale Cali gnome chicks need to go out and get a tan

8. Kolsch: no real comment, meh, how can you even really improve a Kolsch anyway? The name is fun to say five times fast though.

9. Amber Ale: bitter start to finish, not too heavy, nothing unique, a bit of a burnt toffee aroma which was nice. I need dessert….who’s still serving dessert at this time of night?

And so, boys and girls….the moral of the story is: Who says you can’t have your orgasmica and eat pizza too? Thanks, Roxy.

Ooooo Ahh Ahhhhhhhhh,

Lennon The Gnome and Trumpeter for Amish Meth Lab

 

 

A Gnome-Denominational Youth Group Outing to the Botanical Gardens!

As a spiritual leader and motivational speaker for the troubled youth in our disintegrating community, I escorted a group of troubled young gnomes to the nearby botanical gardens this afternoon after this Sunday’s service.

Since I was a wee lad back in the old country, I have always been able to find the truth, the light, and the way in the beauty of nature.

I’m not really sure if those hooligans found any religious enlightenment or spiritual awakening or not. I’m also pretty sure I caught a glimpse of a couple of those slutty girl gnomes smoking cigarettes behind the banana trees. But to keep the peace, I turned a blind eye and took a swig of wine from the communion chalice I’d been refilling all day long. It is my Savior’s own blood after all!

Moments later, I felt myself being exalted high above my worldly concerns about the hooligans that society obligated me to supervise. I reclined back into the grasp of pure bliss and let my soul float up towards the rain drops falling upon my plastic skin and down my beard.

I think there’s a bus that will take those hooligans back to their neglectful parents, isn’t there?

*zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*

The Book of Genesis The Gnome

The Stormy Night I Met a Manatee Pianist

Tonight was one of those nights that it didn’t feel right to stay in and it didn’t feel right to go out. I’ve been kinda down in the dumps for whatever reason the last few days. And while the thought of being around those wretched gnomes made me want to vomit, I still couldn’t stand to see the inside of sterile, impersonal room a minute longer.

So I went to a piano bar and got drunk. Whatever, don’t judge me.

It was lightly raining and I kept seeing lightning in the distance. However, I knew a crawl would help clear my mind. The piano bar was only a mile and three quarters crawl from the Gnome Abode. It’s not like I can’t use the exercise anyway.

The evening’s performer was a chubby manatee who played the most beautiful techno version of Mozart’s Turkish March that I’ve ever heard. I hung around the bar after the performance ended, in hopes that I would have a chance to praise the manatee genius for his talent and inspiration.

He and I have been sipping brandy for the past hour or so. I think we really have a lot in common, in a totally non-weird kind of way. He is apparently really into trains. I don’t really get it, but whatever. I’m sure he told me his name when we first introduced ourselves. But I’m so bad at names. So yeah…

I know it’s after midnight and I should probably get home and get to sleep. But then again, who know when such another awesome night like this will happen?

What do you think? Should I at least stick around til last call? I mean, it’s not really safe to go out into thunderstorms anyway really, is it ?

Gnomamaste: The Gnomes Go To Yoga Class

After months of poking and prodding, I finally convinced Phillip and Kamikaze to to go a yoga class with me. I’ve been going by myself to a crowded corporate studio for the past few months and my 10-pass punch card recently expired there. I came across a Groupon for a new studio that opened up less than a mile away from the Gnome Abode called Tula Yoga Studio. I can’t help but notice that those guys have been packing on some pounds, so I thought some low key exercise would do them well.

The three of us squeezed into our tightest yoga pants and pulled our beards back with ponytail holders. I guess I forgot to mention to Phillip and Kamikaze that this was a 90-minute advanced Vinyasa class with a focus on headstands. They’d never even heard of the most basic of all positions, “gnome’s pose”. Whoops.

Our instructor, Diana started us off easy with some “downward facing gnome” poses and some “warrior gnome 2” stances. Surprisingly ,the guys seemed to be keeping up pretty well. I never thought they had any athletic ability whatsoever! Everything changed when Diana asked us to pull our mat up against the wall for headstand practice.

If you recall, I recently suffered a hardcore skull injury where my poor ceramic head nearly split in half (see prior blog post for reference). The thought falling on my newly-sewn back together noggin while trusting my stubby arms to hold my excess body weight up sounded like a truly awful idea.  My wrists were shaking at the mere thought of reopening back up that horrific head wound.

But against my better judgement, Diana helped each of us get up into headstand position.

As my arm strength quickly started to give out, I wavered and I felt a branch of a crystal leaf tickle the side of my cheek. I lost my balance and my inner peace in a split second that will haunt me for days and weeks to follow. My right wrist gave out and I went tumbling into a the peace candle positioned in front of my mat.

I thought I smelled something burning and before I could stop realize what was happening, Phillip screamed, “Oh my god Benjamin, your blue cap is in flames!” Diana ran out to the front desk to call 911 and within just a few minutes, the fire department was squirting us all down with hoses.

I supposed the second degree burns will heal in due time, but it will probably be awhile until I will have the confidence to go back to yoga class again. On the other hand, Phillip and Kamikaze have become totally obsessed with practicing yoga and already signed up for monthly passes at Tula. Good for them. Good for those freakishly flexible bastards and their unburned ceramic outer layer and their perfect red caps.

*sniff. sniff*

Why me. Why me? WHY ME?!

Benjamin The Gnome