Character Intro: Fudge

Have you ever wondered what a kid would turn out like if he were to grow up in Las Vegas and started drinking and attending strip clubs from the age of 11? His mommy was on the pole and his daddy drivin truck? That's Fudge, the newest character to join the firm.

They call Fudge, Fudge, because he likes dark women. Okay, lets not kid ourselves here. He's white as a ghost and he loves black women. I don't know what women would ever get with him with his handle bar mustache and his jeans that are 5 sizes too small. But, who knows. Maybe he's an expert in the love field. He has told us that his room is set up for maximum light "ambience". He probably has a disco ball and a circle bed, via "Austin Powers".

I may sound like I'm a bit harsh on Fudge, but I'm not. I've known him for 2 weeks and he's already made his was into this blog. That says something... I have a soft spot for delusional retards. I'm just kidding Fudge. Cascadia Heights loves you already. You're a great addition. To give our audience a visual of Fudge, this is what he looks like, if he were a baseball player. But, he's not a pussy. He's a washed up skater.



Next up on the plate is an oldy but a goodie. K Skillz. The Natalie Portman lover.

Superbowl 43: Steelers Win!

Here at Cascadia Heights we have our football lovers and our "we could really care less about football" people. But, I'm happy to report that on Superbowl Sunday, all of Cascadia's employees (minus Jay) converged at my place to partyyyyyyy!

About one week before the game, Gooch asked which team I was rooting for. I replied the Steelers. And with that said, I received 5-6 texts a day telling me that the Steelers were going to get waxed on Sunday. One of his texts said, "Here are my two favorite teams: 1.) The Packers - 2.) Anyone playing the Steelers." Day in and day out for 7 days straight. I should've told him the Cardinals... :(

When asked by Gooch what he should bring to my party, I asked for his wife popping out of a cake. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. What I did get though was a cake with Victoria Secret models popping out of it! They were complete with their chest and stomach tattooed saying, "Steelers Suck" and "Arizona Cardinals: Super Bowl 43 Champs". Wishful thinking on his part, but the cake was good... :)

Here was a favorite commercial of mine. Enjoy.

Ebonics 101 with a Middle Aged White Guy

Juan and I have nothing else to do but keep eachother company day in and day out. It leads to some pretty good conversations. It also leads me to realize how out of touch old white men can be... Cough cough, politics. Congrats Barack Obama. Now, on to the story.

"Worrrrrddddd homieeeee!" "What does worrrrddddd homieeeeee mean?", said Juan. I had to go on and explain that it meant, "I agree". From that first uttering of the phrase, Juan has come a long ways. He says word homie loud and proud and even puts in a little jive hand signal when he says it. He also has graduated to other phrases such as "what up wit dat?" and "sup trev dawg?".

Now, by no means is Juan trying to be cool or claim to be up to date with hip hop popular culture. In fact, he realizes the situation and laughs at himself most the time. But, if he can learn pop culture, it gives me hope for myself someday. I have a video posted below that really reminds me of this instance. Enjoy my brothas.

I'm ALIVE!

To my viewing faithful, I am alive. I moved and hence didn't have my computer operational or an internet connection. But, not to fret, I am back!

For your viewing pleasure, below is something I came across that was pretty interesting. It's powertool drag racing. I'm not really into racing that much, but this is cool. Enjoy.



Also, the Sawzall Sunday Cool Tool below is up an going again...

Flashback Friday: The Walkie Talkie Experiment

As with every Friday, I'm going to give you a dose of a blast from the past...

A few months ago, Juan and I dedicated some time to work on a local church. Neither Juan or I are religious, but Juan decided that it would be a good thing to do. I asked him, "Why are we working on this church? You're not religious..." Without even thinking he responded, "I may not believe, but I believe in the good people who attend this church." I could agree with that. And with that, we started our work.

I'm just going to give a warning here. If there is a God... I'm definitely going to hell for the following events...

The majority of our work was based in the Boiler Room. The Church was having a bit of trouble with heating up the joint and controlling the temperature of any given room. One room would be ice cold and the other would feel like the firey depths. So, one person would have to be in the boiler room flipping switches like a mad scientist and the other person would be in a random room waiting for the heat. Juan came up with the genius idea to introduce walkie talkies to communicate which switches were working with what rooms. I swear that the instant we put the walkie talkies around our necks, we reverted to six years old... Instantly. Juan was breathing hard into the talkie and I was responding with my best Darth Vader impression.


This is where the trouble began. Each of us was trying to one up the previous comment through the walkie talkies. And then Juan laid a bomb on me, quite literally. All of the sudden my talkie clicks on. I don't hear anything for about 5 seconds. Then, I start to hear water running... Wait, is that water? Oh God, it can't be!? Click, flush. Juan had successfully made me listen to him take a piss. I was plotting my revenge as soon as I heard the flush. This couldn't really be topped, but I'd try.

In my plotting a vengeance, I figured I'd retaliate first by making Juan listen to my piss sounds. I walked into the bathroom, picked out the perfect toilet, got ready, clicked on the talkie and released.... "Muwahahahahaaaa!", I was thinking. This is great. Now he can experience some of my disgust... "I'm sooooo clever!".... Then right as I was zipping up after I had done the deed, Juan came through on the talkie. "Ummmm, Trevor, I'm talking with the pastor... Quit making all that racket. Did you ever think of where I could be located?" I swear to the man upstairs that I could hear a cricket in the bathroom. Dead silence. Let's just say that I was experiencing a tad bit of embarassment. Ha.

The pastor talked with Juan and I a couple of times after about the work we were doing, but he never did mention the "holy piss" as I call it. Things just felt a little awkward after that. I'm soooooooo clever.

:(

Sawzall Sunday: Cool Tool

You guys have to check this out. On average, 10 people per day cut off a finger doing wood work. Shown below is a table saw, that when contacted with a finger, will stop INSTANTLY! Well, in 1/1000th of a second. But, who's counting? Maybe Cascadia should invest in one of these bad boys...

Flashback Friday: Bill's First Boober Debacle

Flashback Friday: Each Friday, I'm going to go back in time. I have a year and a half worth of comedic stories that no one outside of Cascadia Heights have ever heard. Now it's your turn to join in on the fun...

I have to start flashback fridays off with a story from Bill. During one of his "I think I'll decide to work for a couple of weeks" phases, the Bill decided to let us in on a little bit of his love life. There were five of us sitting around during the lunch hour listening intently. You see, the Bill hasn't been laid since he got divorced. We were all waiting for him to break the big news. Hoping, waiting, wishing that the Bill had ended his cold streak. As the story went on, it got juicier and juicier...

Somehow, after a couple minutes of babbling and leading up to it, Bill had managed to get a girls top off at the beach! I could see it inside of us all. We were all smiling thinking, "Oh man, this is it. Bill finally ended the streak!!!" To our suprise, Uncle Bill started to talk about him touching this female's boobers. This was it. Bill was going in for the kill! And then the sad news hit. Bill fondled the boobers and that was the end of that. A silence broke out and then an eruption of laughter...

Bill was practically begged to have relations, but somehow, some way, he managed to muff it... "So Bill, after you touched the nipples, did you even get a phone number?" Bill replied, "I didn't. I felt it was a little too forward of me..." Another silence and eruption of laughter broke out again. "A little too forward Bill!? You were touching her boobers! How did you NOT get a phone number!?" Bill didn't have a reply. He was just happy to have some female interaction. Poor Bill. Ha.

Needless to say, nipple jokes ensued for the next two weeks, non-stop.