Category: Luke

  • Worse than a Crack Covered Nicotine Stick Wrapped in Heroin … Biting your Finger Nails

    Worse than a Crack Covered Nicotine Stick Wrapped in Heroin … Biting your Finger Nails

    I have never done crack. I know a guy who was addicted to crack and went to rehab after it finally dawned on him, or it was a court ordered “dawning”, that his life had taken a wrong turn when he was having naked cracked out knife fights with his 140 kilo male friend as they drove through the late night streets of Harlem running his crack ring. I have never done heroin. But I do know someone who had a brother who was hooked and described using heroin like “cumming out of his ass”. Now I am not sure exactly how to interpret that, but his telling description of heroin addiction and the outlandish activities of my other friend show me the strength of these two artificial substances. Well I will venture to say that biting your nails is worse.

    OK, I can’t really back that up. But I am attached to 10 agents of brain corruption and propaganda and they are working their magic on me every second of every day. They say the nastiest things to me…

    “Come on Luke, I got this flap of skin just hanging off my side. You can feel it right? Ya it’s right there. It’s not a nail, you can bite it, don’t worry. I wont tell anyone about the way you want and WILL suck and nibble on that little dangling nail nipple.”

    “Luke, now shut the fuck up and bite me! You just bit number 4 over there so why the fuck won’t you bite me? You think your all high and mighty because you only bite one nail out of the ten and think you are conquering this habit? We ain’t going anywhere you addict bitch! I got nothing to do all day so I am just going to rub up against number 2 on my side and make sure you are reminded of my existence every time you move your arm.”

    “Luke! Help!! It hurts!! You gotta fix it just this one time. It wasn’t your fault that potato peeler ripped me in half. I understand. It’s OK. But you gotta help me, it hurts!!!”

    To name a few of the horrendous things I hear from these bastard nails. It’s hard, but after 27 years, I have had enough…

    Here is the most recent photo I have after one of my many nail clipping sessions. Be sure to compare from images at this blog when I started this whole fandangled thing.

    In my previous images I bragged about the nail being long but that was a false hope because with a short nail bed, a long nail is simply going to break and bother you and encourage horrible statements like the ones above. From these images, I hope you can see the growth in the base of the nail which is ultimately what I want. There is still a lot of skin towards the front of the finger, not sure if you call this foreskin or what, but the size is diminishing, albeit slow.

    What I found is that there is no visual reward for a very long time. For me the worst thing I can do is let my nails grow long, so I cut them regularly. Don’t be duped.

    But I am not without flaw and one nail has consistently tricked me into eating him as if he was a butter covered bacon sandwich coated in fried cheese. The image below shows the comparison between my two pinky nails. Unfortunately for my one retarded finger that is permanently disfigured after a late night cycling crash slightly inebriated, I am also terrorizing it’s nail. But it is not to say that I have given up on pinky McRetard. I have gone to the extreme. I wrap him in clear medical tape at least three times a day. I figure the only way I will stop molesting this pinky finger is to slap a chastity belt on him and would you believe it, it freaking works. The trick is to use a small strip of tape and wrap it so it only covers the nail and first knuckle for minimal annoyance. I can still type and write and go to the bathroom and find things in my nose.

    In fact, I found this tape tactic to be the atomic bomb in my arsenal to stop my nail biting. As mentioned in the previous blogs, biting my nails is unstoppable after I bite a little bit and create the “imperfection” in the nail. After that, I will bite until there is no more to try and fix the “imperfection”. So now, when I start down this downward spiral of munching, I quickly run to the tape and cover the nail for a few hours. Most of the time this is enough to let my brain move on to other things. I know the tape thing seems absurd, but do it! It works!

    The road is still very long for this bastard of an addiction but I feel as though I have passed the cuming out of my ass while having a naked knife fight phase.

  • 9 Things I Hate About Walking

    9 Things I Hate About Walking

    There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I am, by far and away, the fastest walker in Santiago. And to take advantage of my obligatory and permanent label of “ignorant gringo”, I will conclude that a Chilean walker is no different than any other Latino walker. Thus making me the fastest walker in all of South America… fact. So what could I hate about walking when I am the clear champion of the southern hemisphere and no one should be able to stop me? Well many things, and it is my innate ability to overcome these problems that got me where I am today. If you are a slow or bad walker, or what I like to call a “slawker”, you may never have thought of any of these things because you are dead smack in the middle of doing these things… all the time.

    1) Turning your head more than 15 degrees to either side.

    If you are walking straight forward, and you turn your head more than 15 degrees to either side, you better divert your course in that direction or you have just become a slawker. Without a clear field of view in front of you, you cannot be expected to walk without causing chaos.

    2) Taking a slow slant across the sidewalk to get to the other side without looking

    This is the most efficient way to fuck over the most people in the most amount of time making you the most hated person on the sidewalk. You are not in an inner tube laying on your back, with a bag of beer attached to you cooling in the water, as you kick lazily and flap idioticly with your hands to cross a slow moving current. You are in the middle of a high speed sidewalk so you better know exactly when you are to get off, and make it happen with precision and hastiness.

    3) Fail to move a shoulder or turn your body as people approach you when there is not much room.

    You are a fucking dick. Have common courtesy for your fellow species. There is no reason you should feel that you are more important than another walker so that you should never have to turn your body or bow your shoulder to let someone fit through a gap. Nor are you the better person to turn and look back at the person who just bumped you. Douche bag.

    4) Stopping on a staircase

    This is never acceptable, never. It is tiring enough climbing a staircase and it sure as hell is frustrating enough to put both my feet on the same stair as I mentally urge you to walk faster. But when you ignore my mental urgings and stop, and I ram my head into your jello butt that had me hypnotized just enough to slow my reactions down, it makes me want to throw my shoe at you. If you dropped something, forget about it. If you forgot something behind, you will need to use the designated stairs for going down. If you are tired, sack up and get on with it before I push you over.

    5) Walking four people wide

    Firstly, if I am one of the four, I hate this situation because I cannot hear what the hell is going on. But imagine the 80 meter queue of people behind you and your arm linked friends. Are you playing red rover red rover? Are you trying out for that burlesque dance with the high kicking legs? Are you stopping a crowd as they riot around you? Unless you are doing any of these things, immediately deconstruct your wall of in-passe, and go down to two by two. You will be a lot happier as well as the released flow of people going past you.

    6) Wildly flailing your arms as if you have a mental disorder

    Maybe more common in South America, especially Argentina. But to think it’s just a “thing that happens” as you back hand slap someone to your side as they are trying to pass you, is just plain wrong, and you are two steps closer to being a salted slug of the earth.

    7) Gazing up, browsing around, and looking at this and that

    Sudden stops will ruin governments, computers, machinery, and it sure as hell will destroy a sidewalk. When you decide to gander at that cute top or new computer game, you just unleashed chaos and that ain’t cool in my book. Be courteous and look to the side or behind you before making drastic decisions on the sidewalk. But this would break rule one, so even better if you feel uncomfortable breaking rule one, is to put a hand out to the side pointing down and shout out “Slowing!!”

    8) Choosing the far left door when you have to turn right or vice versa

    Try and think ahead more than five seconds. There are a lot of doors because likely there are a lot of people using them. It is not cool to leave a door and immediately run into your perpendicular adventure that should have nothing to do with me.

    9) Not staying to the side on an escalator if you are not walking.

    Why? Do you really need a sign every few meters going up to tell you to do this? Just because we are getting a free vertical lift doesn’t mean I am not going to take advantage of the opportunity to feel like I am walking super extra fast.

    For sure at some point I have committed some of these errors, but I learned. I learned from my mistakes and saw the misery I caused and I aim to never do them again. Unless you are old, a young child, mentally or physically handicapped, or drunk, you have no excuse to repetitively commit the errors above.

    Now don’t get me wrong… I once ordered 25 guys to walk with with an italian walk whenever they saw me or one of my 50 fraternity bothers. An italian walk consists of your hands clasped behind your back, you lean back like you are almost about to lean on something, and walk slowly like there is nothing in the world you are trying to get to. I can appreciate the joy of life and the things there are to see while walking slow. But in general I am an efficiency walker, that’s why I have a motorcycle that takes me around at 175mph and many bicycles that are far more efficient than a car.

    I hope I pop into your head the next time someone runs into you on the sidewalk and gives you a look like “gawwd, who the fuck is this slawker?”

  • Bolivian Visa Run

    Bolivian Visa Run

    One of the luxuries/drawbacks of being a quazi-illegal immigrant with a UK and USA passport living in Chile is that you must collect another tourist visa every 90 days. Combine this obligatory task with a love for adventure and mayhem and you have one happy Luke. My method of travel is to arbitrarily elect a “must do in my life” goal, then make absolutely zero effort with regards to planning or preparing for that goal irrelevant of it’s very possible dangers and pitfalls, and then head off in what I believe to be the right direction. Well a few weeks ago I decided to renew the visa and complete a “must do in my life goal” of climbing a 6,000+ meter mountain (roughly 20,000 feet) in the very beautiful and challenging Bolivian mountains.

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  • Ipecac

    Ipecac

    I do not consider myself an evil man. I open doors for the ladies. I will cross a busy highway to help a wheelchair up a curb. I don’t step on cracks to avoid breaking my mother’s back. In general, I love everything and everyone on this planet and do my best to contribute to our continued growth and development. But one hilarious and cruel evening, I faltered. This story is about the time I anti-poisoned Grant.

    This page puts it rather well … http://www.break.com/index/ipecac-vomit-prank.html

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  • Location Independence Lifestyle

    I had a boss named Harry. My first conversation with him was about how he had lived in a dozen countries and was planning his retirement in Costa Rica and was building his dream house where he would finish his days recollecting the many wonderful memories of the past. This conversation drilled itself into my brain and from that point on I decided that I needed to know the world much more than I had at that point. Sure I was well travelled but I hadn’t “lived” the rest of the world. So I began my preparations and eventually executed. Now three years later I have had the opportunity to live and experience our beautiful world from the flamboyant perspective of Argentina, the luscious green view of England, and the amorous goggles of Chile.

    While in London I met a very ambitious gentleman by the name of Brian Smith who introduced me to the concept of Generation-Y, which myself, and likely you, are deeply entrenched. He runs a blog called Lifestyle Y which has some fantastic advice and perspectives about this burgeoning concept and philosophy on life. I recently had the pleasure to be interviewed by Brian and I shared some of my thoughts about being an international entrepreneur and lover of life and the world. I invite you to check out the interview where you can read the full transcript as well as listen to our conversation if you are so inclined to know how I sound.

    Enjoy … http://lifestyle-y.com/luke_ollett_interview

  • Two Years? Pssshhhh….

    Our Thursday is approaching her two year birthday! Or is it three? Not important… Since her inception she has been screaming passionately and loudly as her growing pains shape and define her. Two years ago I didn’t even know if she was a she or a he but it’s all too apparent now as she slides her silky smooth hands all over our bodies. I must thank the authors for her blossoming identity as it is their tireless efforts and unique personalities that have caressed her buxom bossom to heave ever grandeur. And to that end I would like to introduce three new “stimulators” of her, Our Thursday.

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  • Twas a Good Passport Part 1

    Twas a Good Passport Part 1

    In August of 2000, I obtained my last USA passport under auspicious circumstances. I had a trip

    I will never forget

    planned to England and with only a few weeks to go I noticed that my previous passport had expired. At that time, there was no expedited passport process so we immediately did the next best thing and lied. We had my Grandfather write a very formal letter saying that his wife, my Grandmother, was doing very poorly and it was imperative that I was present at her side during her final days. It worked. There after this passport served me extremely well and saw many an airport. I even had to have 25 pages added to it to accomodate more stamps. Well in August of 2010, it expires so I thought I would give my passport Justice and try and recount some of the memories that spring to mind while gazing through some of the stamps and visas.

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  • How to Stop Your Receding Hair Line

    How to Stop Your Receding Hair Line

    The hair gene in males comes from your mother’s father. This means that I am going to have

    My eyebrows in about 27 months. Hopefully not my demeanor.

    enormous eyebrows that will shade me and my family from the sun and  I will have one of those heads that has the semi circle around the back from ear to ear. If I were a weaker person, I would grow one side extremely long and try to hide the top of my abnormally shiny head and then say “What?” when people asked me about it. However, there are alternatives.

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  • Catalina is Not California

    Catalina is Not California

    About 26 miles off the coast of Southern California, you can feel as if you are a thousand miles away from the United States, and you do not need a passport. (In fact, this island is still part of Los Angeles County and has a 323 area code or is it 213?). As I write this, there is a large horde of young men that have descended upon this magical mystery tour of an island for an annual trip we affectionately call, Catalina.

  • Rome and Cinque Terra

    Rome is a remarkable city and if you want to blow your mind to the maximum, go to Cinque Terra on the mediterranean coast. Below is an excerpt from a journal I kept during a a two month trip through Europe.

    August 12th 12 something. Sitting in the hallway of a train surrounded by greasy Italians and listening to godspeed and my feet undoubtedly have some sort of fungus or worm or something. I have never seen them dirtier.

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