Mike Guerdon's influence is as wide as his girth

Figure 1-A: The Girth of Mike Guerdon

Indiana boy spells 'guerdon' to win national bee

By JOSEPH WHITE Associated Press Writer

WASHINGTON (AP) -- After watching his sister try three times to win the Scripps Nationals Spelling Bee, Sameer Mishra put himself on a mission. "I told my mom I was going to do the bee," Sameer said. "And if I was going to do it, I was going to win it one day. And I guess it happened."

Did it ever. With the sister coaching him, Sameer augmented his spelling talent with a sense of humor that often kept the Grand Hyatt Ballroom audience laughing. The 13-year-old from West Lafayette, Ind., was finally all business when he aced "guerdon" - a word that appropriately means "something that one has earned or gained" - to win the 81st version of the bee Friday night.

That is really wierd. Because I thought Guerdon meant "He who is a gock."

Go figure.

But Mike Guerdon, you are a gock.

Ya gock.

Even more in the middle of NOWHERE than me...

They found this tribe of Indians recently in the Amazon that has never before been in contact with the "civilized" world.

You can read about it here.

I could have swore I read that they found them in North Carolina until I re-read it and it said "The Amazon".

They are naked and painted red and as you can see, they are shooting at airplanes.

I don't know what they call that in The Amazon. In North Carolina, they call it "Tuesday".

An Impressive Body Count

Man, The Party Avenger just doesn't like it here.

I'm not overly fond of it right now either. Il Vendicatore Del Partito is right. If I were in Willmington, it would be better. Farther, but better.

There's just acres and acres of nothing in this part of the universe. You drive around looping curves and expect to see something around the corner but it's just more nothing.

I'm on Day 19 and we're getting more and more stressed. I'm getting up at 5am and getting back around 8-9pm. Tis the season.

We did get to go to Wilmington Sunday and had a steak at a little place off the Cape Fear river. It was an excellent steak. I don't know what I liked more about it, the fact that it was the first real steak I'd had in over 3 weeks or the fact that I hadn't killed it with my car.

I'm not kidding. I wish I were. My roadkill tally is currently 2 birds, a squirrel and an angry hornet.

The one bird literally flew into my windshield while I was going 70 MPH down S.R. 210. It literally hit the windshield and slid off. The bitch of it is.... he could have flown away. He flew around in circles in front of me before I hit him. It was crazy. He just flew right into me.

The other bird I found in the grill of the PT. I never knew I hit it. The Mexicans I work with wanted to take bets as to when it would fall out of the grill. I assume that is a form of sport around here.

I told them I was offended and appauled by such a display, and then dropped 5 bucks to take some of that action. I don't know what pisses me off more, the fact that I lost or the fact that if I had cheated I could have won. But I didn't want to touch the dead bird. Sue me, I'm squemish.

The squirrel was another critter that apparently did not want to live anymore in North Carolina.

He ran out and just flung himself under my wheel. I felt really bad about that. Because I don't like to hurt things, but also mainly because it's giving me ideas.

The angry hornet was fun.

Me and my Mexican bodyguard, Jose. we were flying down 210 at around 60MPH with the windows open, when over my shoulder I heard something hit. It sounded like someone threw a rock at my car, that's how hard it hit. I freaked and looked down and there's a pissed off and possibly concussed hornet stinging the living shizzit out of my iz-arm.

Of course, I handled the situation as calmly and cooly as possible.

I screamed like a girl and flung the damn insect down on the floorboard, where I began to Stone-Cold-Steve-Austin-Stomp the living hell out of it while racing around curves going 6o MPH. Jose thought it was very funny until we almost hit the tree.

It stung me but didn't get the stinger in me. It only hurt for about a half hour, then went away.

The little bastard paid the ultimate price for screwing with The Leeman and the PT.

And to quote Stone Cold, anyone who's ready to leave southeastern North Carolina gimme a "hell yeah".

HELL, YEAH.

THE PARTY AVENGER IS A GOLDFISH IN A WINE GLASS...

Hi. Avenger here.
I'd like to take a moment and say to The Big Leeboski...
...my old friend The Big Leeboski...
...ringmaster of The Leebo Show...
...and owner of Web Realms no one frequents....
...well, Leeman, I love ya...
...but you are one hundred percent, without a shadow of a doubt...
...a complete and total goddamned idiot.
Where have you brought me, you jackass?
Elizabethtown, North Carolina.
Well.
What the F.
This is one of those places that really was...
...is...
...and forever shall be nothing.
Nothing.
This place truly meets the bottom of the specifications to classify as "a town".
It has Walmart.
Not Super Walmart.
Just Walmart.
It has Macs.
That's about it.
Ugh.
This place has one bar. One bar.
Let me repeat that.
One.
Bar.
One.
It's the Mexican restaraunt.
The Santa Jose. I think that's what it's called. Who cares?
And I hate it.
It's not a bar. I mean, it is a bar. But they don't care.
They come back and give you a drink once and a while. Maybe.
There's no love. There's no Michelle.
I miss Michelle.
I miss bars.
I hate the Mexican Restaraunt. They look at me like I'm the White Devil in there.
And how do they know I'm white under the mask?
Not that I'm white under the mask, mind you.
Moving on.
Everyone smokes here.
You can smoke everywhere. You can smoke in McDonalds.
You can smoke at the bar in the Santa Jose. I mean if was a bar.
I mean, I think it's called the Santa Jose. Who cares?
I mean, it is a bar, but they don't care. See the previous thought.
Go on. It's up there somewhere.
People here really aren't really very friendly.
They know I'm an outsider.
Mainly because I'm not a deer.
And I don't own a gun.
No one likes me here.
They apparently don't like deer either.
I haven't seen a wall without a deer on it for 14 days.
Don't you Elizabethtown people know who I am?
I'm The Party Avenger. You idiots.
I'M THE PARTY AVENGER. HELLO?
The goddamnned, stylin', profilin'...
...man of the hour...
...too sweet to be sour...
...Party Avenger.
Yeesh, people.
You people have grocery stores that don't sell beer.
They don't sell beer.
The freakin' Scotsman don't sell beer.
I'm sure that would piss a lot of Scotsman off somewhere.
Probably in Scotland.
You people have places to eat, actual restaraunts, that don't sell beer.
Your burger places don't have f-ing fries.
They have something called "chee-yaps".
What the hell are those?
What is wrong with you people?
Listen, In the proper atmo, I'm right where I need to be.
I make it fun. I make it happening.
Here...in Elizabethtown, NC...
...well, they tilt their head...
...and look at me like I'm a masked mini-bigfoot.
I'm not sure what a mini-bigfoot would be.
Maybe an mini-foot.
Now Wilmington... there's a helluva town.
We should be in WILMINGTON.
Glorious Wilmington.
Beach to the East.
Cape Fear to the West.
Party in between.
That's where I belong.
That's where WE belong.
Why didn't you stay there, jackass? That place is fun.
Elizabethtown... not so much.
Now listen up, Leeman. This is very important.
You must get through this season.
So you can get out of here and give me life again.
"Evil" spelled backward is "live".
Why won't you let me live?
I'm dead here, man.
Unless you go to Wimington and stay a night or two, I'm out of here for the next 4-5 weeks.
That's a long time, dude. Life is short.
You can't have fun here. WE can't have fun here.
THERE'S NOWHERE TO HAVE FUN HERE.
Elizabethtown. North Carolina.
You f-ing shmuck.
Oy.
Well, go to McDonalds and get me some McNuggets.
And go through the drive-thru.
They know we're not from here.

I FEEL SAFE IN NORTH CAROLINA

This sign is 3 miles from the farm I am working at.

Oh, yeah.

I feel safe in North Carolina.

MELVIN’S burgers will lay the smackdown on your hungry ass!

Melvin’s is a place that has been in my new home base, Elizabethtown, NC, since the 1930’s.

They started out selling 5 cent burgers. Today, they are like a buck fifty. They are some good burgers. I think they mix the beef with sausage. At least I hope it’s sausage.

My first Melvin’s experience since last year was fun.

I walked in, ordered 2 burgers and some fries.

The pretty, young girl behind the counter said in NC drawl, “We don’t have fries sir, we have che-yaps”.

I replied “Che-yaps are good. I’ll have che-yaps.” She didn’t get it or me and pointed at the che-yap rack in full blown, solid “get yer che-yaps and get the hell out” fashion.

It was less than four bucks. They gave me my burgers, I got some che-yaps (Doritos Nacho Cheese, they’re nachotastic) and walked out.

Then I stopped and stood in downtown Elizabethtown (such as it is) and laughed.

I don’t think I was in that place for over 45 seconds. That’s how fast the deal went down.

I salute you, Melvins. For your speed, for your great burgers, and for being the only burger joint I’ve ever been in that does not serve fries.

They have che-yaps.

FINALLY… The Leeman has come back….to Willmington!

Leebo’s back in NC and ready to wrangle berries… GAME ON… huh… they’re still green?

Oh.

Unfortunately, I’m here early at the behest of my gracious hosts. So it’s get ready, hurry up, and wait. And visit one of the cooler cities I’ve ever been in.

Wilmington has a charm unlike anywhere I have been. To the east, kick-ass beaches. To the west, the Cape Fear river and the U.S.S. North Carolina. The Carolina is a dreadnaught (like myself, Lakeland High School, class of 83) with more than 300 confirmed kills in WW2. It sits along the river, and on the other side is a quaint downtown district with a definite scene. Lot of live music and fun at night. I’m in.

This is Tarheel Country, the U of NC has a campus here. The United States Confederacy apparently also has a campus here as well. I don’t know what is stranger, that there are statues of Confederate generals and Confederate flags everywhere, or the fact that the African-Americans here don’t seem to mind.

It’s still a great city, aside from the fact that all the female news anchors have Adam’s Apples. Still, The Big Leeboski has had some good days here.

And some good nights too.

Oh, Savannah (GA), don’t you cry for me…

Stopped by Savannah, GA on the way up to Wilmington, NC. Finally checked out the riverwalk. Pretty cool.

Above is a pic of me with the waving girl. I don’t know why she is waving. Most of me doesn’t care.

Bell Bottom Blues, don’t you make me cry...for the 10th time.

Guitar genius, best selling author and my spiritual mecca guide Eric Clapton played the shitty venue known as the Ford Ampitheater in Tampa the weekend before I left. Fortunately, like the Cream of the crop Slowhand is, he took the shitty venue and make it sound like, well, Clapton, which is more than that place deserves.

NEWSFLASH: I really dig Eric Clapton.

E.C. played brilliantly, as did his band. My God, it is truly amazing how his solos can send chills through you, and the crowd was pretty good, and appreciative of the man and event. He did versions of Double Trouble and especially Little Wing that had me floored.

And when he hit that opening for Layla, thousands of asses launched from seats in a nano-second and hovered, in Clapton’s stratosphere, during Chris Stainton’s great piano solo at the end. F-ing A, man.

It was breathtaking. Again. It was an incredible performance. Thank you, Great Maker, for allowing me this.

And thank you, Eric. You are so THE MAN to me, which is strange, because I usually consider myself to be THE MAN. And, quite frankly, I usually am. But not that night, brutha.

This is the TENTH (10th) time I have seen Eric Clapton in concert. I am…. Ten-Time Clapton Veteran Leebo. Nice.

I have to say, the last 2 (times) have been the best. Not just because of the virtuoso performance by EC, but also because because I have gone to the last two shows with 5-time Clapton veteran Cheryl, a.k.a. Basenji Mom, a.k.a. my Little Crabcake.

It’s great to see E.C. with someone who loves Clapton as much as I do, and she’s my dear friend, too. A truly good combo. Love ya, 5-time!

Actually, it could be argued that she loves Clapton more than me, because she wants to do him.

But nobody loves Clapton more than me, I assure you.

Nobody.

And let’s just leave it at that.

IRON MAN kicks my shiny, metal ass!

My last weekend home before I left, I had the pleasure of seeing one kick ass superhero movie. NEWSFLASH: I like superheroes.

IRON MAN was a feast. Like, unbelievably good. My inner geek rejoiced, like I was getting a backrub from Gwyneth Paltrow.

My outer geek just wants to get a date. I should get my inner geek to help with that, but my God, he’s such a nerd…..

But I digress.

Go see IRON MAN. Everyone in it is great, especially Downey Jr. as Tony Stark. And lest we forget, The Dude, Jeff Bridges is bald and bad in it. The effects kick ass, and the story was good too. Just a damn fun flick.

This was the first release from Marvel Studios and it was a solid home run. And all I got to say about that is….better step up and smell the coffee, DC Comics, or else!

My God.

I’m an inner AND outer nerd.

An inner and outer dateless nerd.

I’m sooooooo glad no one is reading this.

Here’s to being free…. La, la ,la, la, la, la, la, Leebo’s back (kinda)!!!

Greetings.

I return from blog exile dazred and confused and stunned and amazed. I am currently drinking an adult beverage in Elizabethtown, North Carolina. How that elephant got in my pajamas I’ll never know.

I’ve been away from the blogiverse due to having one hell of a lot of fun, and then traveling to my NC gig and having my technology fail me when I got here.

So, I’m using crappy and wireless technology and being extremely patient. Hey, I’m in Elizabethtown. Time I got. Elizabethtown, NC: Where so much never happens.

The Leeman has a lot to talk about. So let’s get to it. Of course, you might have read the previous blogs already, as they stack up on top of this one.

Ah, who am I kiddin’? Nobody’s reading this….

Anyway, to quote the great Jackie Gleason, and awayyyy we go….