6'2"

Funny. To nerds. And English majors.

2010-04-11T06:52:00.000-07:00

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2010/4/9waksberg.html

Some liberal arts professor teaching English somewhere should use this and create a whole semester out of it. Seriously.

Ch...Ch...ch...Ch...changes

2010-02-10T14:24:00.000-08:00

Maybe I'm drunk on a workday, but one of the worst feelings in the world is a blog left unattended. Staring at the date of that last blog post is like ninjas of guilt assaulting my genitals with dozens of tiny, tiny throwing stars.

Or something.

Seriously though, it has been awhile dear readers who may still be left. It is remarkably ridiculous how much has happened in life since the last time we spoke. Life has a way of doing that to you once you advance to a certain point, and unlike the video games that my roommates of the past used to play, there is no convenient "save place" available to me now to stop the wheels of time from turning in order to pause and properly reflect on past events. All that liberal arts training for naught. Should have gone to technical school.

Dude! 18 freaking months man! What the hell!? There are not enough arbitrary brain energy units left in the old occipital lobe to chronical everything that has happened, so let me give you a few highlights in order to get us back on semi-equal footing and attempt to transition into a possible (but doubtful) semi-regular posting schedule for the forseeable future, especially but not limited to the fact that I sort of promised details (two ago) last October(s):

1. Got married. Awesome.
2. Got pregnant (well, not me of course). Fun, but mostly for me and the auto DD privileges.
3. Became "da da" for a ridiculously cute baby. (link) Also awesome.
4. Got first "real" job of life. Good but bad.
5. Multiple marriages, births, deaths, significant life events of friends and families.
5. Renewed committment to blogging as possible creative and emotional outlet (results pending).

In other words, the usual.

HOWever, in agreement with the consensus human condition, "the usual" for each individual is incredibly personal and spiritual and important, but mostly only to myself. So much has happened since Oct, '08, but in that weird way that happens when you become a real-life adult, things also appear to happen SO slow. The baby is 11 months last Tuesday...but simultaneously it seems so LONG ago and JUST YESTERDAY that she was a little squeaking, squealing, newborn. And now she points to every god-forsaken thing she wants, adorably says "da da", "ma ma", chases the dog on all fours, and spews banana and oatmeal-mango-rice-artichoke baby food like a dug-out WWII German machine-gunner. It wasn't that way for the first two or three months, where nothing major really seemed to change. We are just getting into that phase where grandma-care providers are constantly commenting on how much she has changed since, you know, two days ago. With two working parents, one with serious mommy guilt, and another emotionally unavailable but with heavily internalized approximation of mommy guilt, weekends and evenings become extremely precious and former iron-clad friendships become disapointing and guilt-inducing rough approximations of their former selves. This is not to say that life is not good...because it absolutely is. But let's just say that prioritization has never been more elusive, or more in need of innovation and optimization than ever before. Life is GOOD... but oh so different than it once was.

Underemployed

2008-10-09T15:26:00.000-07:00

Things are happening.

Has it really been since last spring that 6'2" has seen some action? As you might imagine, a LOT has happened since then. Foremost in mind is that fellow 6'2" (and sister-blog Tuesdays With(out) Torii) contributor Hops, along with Ms. Hops, have given birth (well, Ms. Hops did most of the work I hear) to a beautiful, bouncing, baby boy. That, along with other significant life events in both of our lives, have lead to an anti-climatic semi-retirement of TWT which we have cleverly announced in the most passive aggressive way possible....by not posting anything and not really telling anyone about the end of days. It's kind of like leaving things open for a sequel, or maybe for taking up the mantle once again when the Twins do something inspiring enough to deserve concerted effort. Whatever the reason we eventually choose to start up again, it was totally planned in advance.

For me personally, life has taken several serious zigs and a couple of zags here lately. A few I will wait to share until later, but one zig I alluded to in the title. I was for a time, underemployed (copywrite: Hops).

Now fortunately (I guess), underemployment is actually distinct from unemployment, although no less frustrating and man-parts-disfiguring. You see, the company I was currently working for had sorta kinda run out of money. That happens when you work for a start-up company, but in our case it was somewhat unusual. We are in the medical field, and recently conducted human clinical trials to get our product through the rigorous (understatement) FDA approval process to become commerically available to sun-dappled soccer moms in Edina and Wayzata. The trial went well -- great, actually -- and we met our primary endpoint* for efficacy and nearly all of our secondary endpoints were extremely favorable for us compared to the current market leader and gold standard treatment. Plus, no ones face fell off. Great, right? Apparently...wrong.

*My favorite tidbit of this whole process, which will be familiar to people in the industry and some who aren't, is that our primary endpoint is a statistical measure called...wait for it..."non-inferiority". Basically a fancy way of saying "just as good as, but not necessarily better, but could be"....a statistical backhanded compliment. But the phrasing strikes me as funny whenever I hear it anyway. Kind of like, "Do you love me?" "Well...I can't say for certain my feelings are that strong, but I can assure you confidentally and with accuracy that I don't HATE you." Try that one with your gal next time...

Anyway, right after meeting our primary endpoint of being not statistically sucky, our licensing "partner" backed out on our deal, a deal that had been put in place at least 18 months before. We had held up our end of the bargain at every milestone up to that point, and this company had raised almost 25 million in venture capital money on the strength of our product and technology (to market and distribute it).... and then chickened out. Do they have to give the money back? Of course not. And what about us? Screwed. The management has spent the intervening 9 months or so trying to put together a new deal. But for the first six months of that, the 9 and 12 month data from the trial was still outstanding and every possible partner wanted to wait to see the results before committing anything (I don't blame them). And once that promising data came out, talks have been better. But still, these things take time and when you are a pre-revenue start-up company such as mine was, time is especially money.

Now being on the science side of things (literally, our labs are across the hall from the offices), I was somewhat unaware of these types of things on a day-to-day basis. But being at a small company you do always hear rumblings, because you run into everyone in the company every day, and talk to people who are in those rooms having those discussions. But still, I wasn't expecting to get called into the big office in July and hear that basically the entire company was being laid off. Bit of a shocker. For the office folks, they had about five or six days until they were cut off. For a few others, a limited stay of engagement while the company runs on the few gallons left in the tank, and the president and founder puts his house up for a second mortgage and distributes his salary to the few of us that were still left. For me, I was supposed to be done on July 15, but then was still there for a special encore performance due to the aforementioned salary redistribution plan. I learned several new phrases as a result of all of this, including "retroactive cost-of-living increase" and "deferred salary". Fun, right!?

It's a strange thing because I have no doubts that the company will raise money and be back on it's feet again soon....the exact time-frame of "soon" however, is not a great comfort for me and so I had been actively looking elsewhere for work. In fact, I have now, since August, been at a fabulous new position and as happy as can be for a variety of reason that I hope to write about soon. And since then, a number of other happy life events have also occurred...big ones...more on that soon....

Random Quote

2008-07-22T09:44:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure I even like Monsieur Cook, but this is solid....

"I couldn't even drink a big glass of water for years."
--Dane Cook, commenting on the scariness of the movie Jaws

SSSHHHH...

2008-03-20T13:11:00.000-07:00

...daddy's busy.

ZZzzzzz.....

2008-03-19T16:22:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the gap in communications. I'm on imagined vacation and will be back soon...

Top Albums of 2007

2007-12-28T22:40:00.000-08:00

Well, as a self proclaimed music snob, I feel as though it is my duty to report my reflection of the 2007 music scene. Hopefully you have heard of many of these bands, if not check them out. Some thoughts about 2007: Tupac is still making records every month, Seal has a new album (good for him), and the Goo Goo Dolls released a Best Of album. The top ten hits in the world consist of such great artists as Rihanna, Fergie, Nelly Furtado, Timbaland, Akon, Gwen Stefani, Avril Lavigne, and Justin Timberlake...which makes me wonder who purchases music these days besides 16-21 year olds. Alas, the list:

1) Band of Horses - Cease to Begin

You know an album is great when you can listen to it from beginning to end without skipping a track. Cease to Begin falls under this category. The sophomore effort from this band is outstanding with a mixture of slow and fast songs and songs which combine both dynamics. As Josh Wilhelm said after seeing them in concert, "They play loud...and were awesome." Vocals of the lead singer resemble those of "My Morning Jacket" lead singer and are extremely haunting and pure. Oh ya, the album has a track entitled "Detlef Schrempf" which makes the album number one of all time automatically.

Top Tracks: Islands on the Coast, Ode to the LRC, Is There A Ghost, The General Specific

2) Sugar Ros - Hvarf-Heim

I've been in love with this band for a few years now for their originality, beautiful instrumentals, and the fact that they are Icelandic and I can't understand a word they say. A very relaxing band that has toured the US a few times and is apparently great in concert.

Top Tracks: Hljomalind, Staralfur, Salka, I Gaer

3) Ryan Adams - Easy Tiger

The blend between Alternative and modern country. No, I'm not talking about Shania Twain. Ryan Adams' depressing love songs are well written and his up tempo rock songs are a great change of pace as well.

Top Tracks: Two, Halloweenhead, Goodnight Rose, I Taught Myself How to Grow Old, Oh My God, Whatever, Etc.

4) Angels and Airwaves - I-Empire

Before you say anything about this selection, just know that AIA is not a punk band--in fact they do not resemble anything close to the lead singer's former genre with Blink 182. They have the most original sound of any current rock band minus a few (Muse comes to mind among others). This album falls short of their debut album, but still remains strong due haunting guitar rifts and use of various types of instruments which resemble U2 (actually the bands top influence).

Top Tracks: Call To Arms, Everything's Magic, Sirens, Secret Crowds

5) Andrew Bird - Armchair Apocrypha

Classic acoustic singer resembling Jeff Buckley and Elliot Smith. Has some great tracks on this album and worth a listen for any acoustic fan.

Top Tracks: Scythian Empires, Imitosis, Plasticities

6) VHS or Beta - Bring on the Comets

Wish I could have gone to this concert, but nonetheless the album is great. Very powerful band with a strange sound to them.

Top Tracks: Can't Believe a Single Word, Bring on the Comets, Burn it All Down

7) Newton Faulkner - Hand Built By Robots

Not the typical acoustic singer, Newton is British and has long blond dreadlocks. Yet, he amassed one of the greatest albums of the year with an album that can be listened to from beginning to end.

Top Tracks: Dream Catch Me, People Should Smile More, Teardrop, All I Got

8) Coconut Records - Nighttiming

As if Jason Schwartzman wasn't cool enough as an actor, he headlines this EP with his new band Coconut Records. A step up from Phantom Planet with a more real sound listeners can enjoy.

Top Tracks: Nighttiming, West Coast

9) Rooney - Calling the World

No, I'm not a 16 year old girl who watches the OC, but I really enjoy this California pop band. Loved the first album, this one follows suit. Every song is catchy and makes you want to go surfing...

Top Tracks: Paralyzed, When Did Your Heart Go Missing?, Love Me or Leave Me

10) Interpol - Our Love to Admire

Pure rock band with great guitar and drum combos.

Top Tracks: The Heinrich Maneuver, No I in Threesome, Rest My Chemistry

Honorable Mention:

Minus the Bear - Planet of Ice
Okkervil River -The Stage Names
The Shins - Wincing the Night Away
Silverchair - Young Modern
The Arcade Fire - Neon Bible
Feist - The Reminder
Future of Forestry - Twilight
Maroon 5 - It Won't Be Soon Before Long
Colbie Caillat - CoCo

See you next year.

State of Love and Trust

2007-12-04T09:34:00.000-08:00

Dear Primary Love Interest,
I know I don't express myself emotionally very well. I am a man, after all. Granted that some men are better than others (screw you Hugh Grant -- you f'ed it up for all of us), and I may be skewing towards one end of the continuum, but most men seem to be somewhat poor performers in this category. Probably because we talk about football and donuts when we get together with each other, and with the exception of Homer Simpson, there is not a great deal of emotion tied to donuts. I realize it's not the most ideal trait in a life partner. Rest assured though...I'm working on it.

As you queried the other night, yes, this has indeed been a common motif in relationships in my past. And yes, I am fully aware that a good relationship requires care and some degree of "work" (trust me, I'm FULLY aware). But that is a tricky thing, you know? How much is work, and how much is "work" and how much is Work, and what is the significance of each? And when it is incredibly easy to be with someone, as I feel about me and you, it also becomes easy to get complacent and take certain things for granted....like saying you look hot in that tube top, or no those jeans fit you perfectly and don't at all make your butt look big. Unless that's the look you're going for -- I don't know what's "in" these days because my Cosmo subscription lapsed. Regardless, I know that the way I feel about you means that I would do any amount of work/"work"/Work to make things....er....work. Clarification: I KNOW things will always work between us...I have Trust in that...but I would do these things to make us both as happy as we deserve since we so directly and dynamically influence each other's happiness now. P.S. I don't use caps lock and capital letters frivilously.

I'm not a good enough amateur psychologist to really hash out what from my childhood made me this way (I have a few hunches, at best), but I think it's what made me a good athlete -- that never too high and never too low temperament. And having male roommates for my entire life didn't help but hammer home these habits. Especially the silent ones. It might seem odd, but it's always been a positive attribute in my life, an easy way to be, until now, and so the habit is hard to break given the decades of positive reinforcement it has recieved. Just remember that this is the first time I've spent more than several nights a week and the weekends with someone with pleasantly different anatomy consecutively, and it takes a little getting used to. I am, however, REALLY enjoying the constantly clean house and that there is ACTUALLY food in the fridge all the time. But please know that it is a process and that change is sometimes slow and don't be afraid to help shove it along whenever you feel you need too. My easy-going temperament also means that I readily absorb helpful criticism, as well. Lucky you!

It's odd, because women get painted with the "moody" label, but I am too. Though it is often really hard to detect on the surface. With me, it particularly applies to being in the mood to talk about serious things like new pets or kids or marriage or State of the Relationship type stuff. Most of the time when you bring them up, I might make a joke or two, and not really engage in the conversation in any great depth. I seem to put it off til later, but later doesn't always come soon enough. Part of it is that I'm not aware til later (when you make me aware) that you are really serious about talking about these things in depth. Part is that when I'm home I'm trying to mentally decompress from work and life and these topics seem very Serious and are daunting and require many arbitrary mental energy units to address. Make no mistake, I'm not trying to avoid these conversations. In my head, I have a vague notion of "crossing those bridges when we come to them" and that the whole buying a house together situation should answer some of them for you already. I'm sorry for not communicating those assumptions of mine frequently enough, but I know we'll get to all those questions and their answers eventually, and I'm still learning what you need and how to provide you with it.

Like I said...I'm working on it.

Angels and Giants: Part 1

2007-11-27T16:14:00.000-08:00

(Editor's Note: this post was originally posted here at Tuesday's With Torii)

Oh what a turmoil our local sports franchises have thrust upon us. And oh what a turmoil our carefully selected blog name is wreaking on my sports soul this weekend. Tuesdays With Torii was chosen with no small amount of brainstorming and mental gymnastics. It perfectly befit our sports and pop-culture leaning mentalities, as well as incorporated, at least in my eyes, the most magnanimous and engaging character on our favorite stick-and-ball club. If "Garnett" rhymed equally well when inserted into the title of a popular, cheesy, touching, yet slightly overrated novel, I may very well have pressed for a basketball-centric outlet. And these two giants of these two (fraternal, not identical) twin cities, and the manner in which they have now departed, are the subject of this post.

I loved loved love Kevin Garnett, and I'm not afraid to say it. As far as arbitrary lists involving sports "heroes" go, he is well up into the lofty heights on mine. The troposphere maybe. My connection with KG has a rich history, and is intertwined with my own personal basketball career in a way for which I will always be biased in his favor. Until I got old and my knees slowly turned into the consistency of a Jolly Rancher (green apple) left out in an acid rainstorm, basketball was by far the biggest sport in my life. The Wolves became our team, and their formative years were also mine. Drafting Garnett coincided with my entry into college, and the Wolves' transition to "adulthood" mirrored my own (those who maintain that I am one anyway). After college, I had the opportunity to be in two commercials with the Big Ticket for his (then) shoe company And 1 sports, and he did not disappoint in real life either. The upper part of my face and forehead debuted to critical acclaim during the All-Star game that year. As a basketball player, his skills perfectly befit my mental disposition for fandom -- intense, versatile, freakishly athletic, smooth. And the parts of his athletic personality fit too -- humble, loyal, extremely self-motivated. There is a lot there to respect. During the end of the last season and throughout this off-season the critics buzzed about one thing -- the time had come for KG to go elsewhere and the Wolves to start over. And this strange feeling came over me...acceptance. It felt right. And when the Celtics maneuvered to nab Ray Allen on draft night, I remember distinctly thinking that KG would go there. Now, I've never been a Boston Anything fan, the Sox least of all, but the Celtics a strong second (and the Bruins about 8th, even placing after Freddie Prinze's Cape Cod minor league baseball team in that movie where Jessica Bier is wet). But as soon as my all-time favorite basketball player became the third of a very Big 3, and with the Wolves impending sucktitude, I decided to adopt them. For 2 years. And a fan option on the third. I knew...KNEW...as soon as the three were assembled that they would perfectly compliment each other - and I truly wish I had documented this certainty for personal ego-stroking purposes....I knew before everyone else and all that. But that is minor, really. More importantly, so sue me, I like to watch fun things. Entertaining things. And I intuited almost immediately that this would be a fantastically fun team to watch exactly because of the way they would compliment each other -- a dominant frontcourt guy, a sniper, and a hyper-effective slasher. A hyper-competitive chest-beater leader-by-example, a cucumber-cool Jesus Shuttlesworth, and an existing team leader in need of someone(s) else to shoulder some Sisyphus duty. But maybe, just maybe, the reason I need to adopt the Celtics is also that me and the Wolves...well...we just need a nice long break from each other. I can watch them from a distance, you know, checking in from time to time. But me and McHale just have too much baggage to make this thing work right now. He messed up time and again (about 84 by my count) in trying to match complimenting players to my favorite 6'13" player, and worse, enabled his jackass buddy to save his own (jack)ass in the very fell swoop McHale could never accomplish in more than a decade's worth of trying.

Not that I'm bitter.

Stay tuned for Part 2...

(This post is mirroed at 6'2")

Growns up and you're growns up and you're growns up

2007-08-09T15:13:00.000-07:00

So.
I bought a house. I am a "homeowner". This, my friends, is one of the weirdest things that has ever happened to me, primarily so, because I have finally been forced to consider the fact that I may indeed finally be....an adult. Now, I know what you're thinking. "But Kaiser," you're thinking, "what about the fact that you drink as if you were still a college sophomore (except ya'know...microbrews instead of Pig's Eye), you use the phrases 'Coolio' and 'Mos Def' in conversation (ie. "How you feeling?" "I'm coolio." & "You coming over tonight?" "Oh yeah. Mos def.", you just started a Facebook page, and you still giggle whenever anyone says the word 'duty' (I blame Caddyshack). Well, all of those things may be true, but what can I say? I feel more grown up than ever, and it's not just cuz I'm 6'2".

Possibly, the major difference is that I'm gainfully employed, for arguably the first time in my life. Has 'gainfully' ever been uttered in the English language and not been followed by the word 'employed', by the way? Can you be lossfully employed? Maybe if you get involved in a pyramid scheme. But this version of my employment just feels like a real job this time around. I mean, they won't even let me wear shorts to work. There is nothing uncertain or transitory about it -- unless you count the fact that a start-up medical device company can disappear faster than Brittany Spears dignity (or underwear). Usually when you get a job and buy a house, the next logical step is trading up for some wooden teeth and going back to diapers, right? Well, maybe there's a few steps in between. But that general perception is maybe what lead me to think of myself in other terms for so long.

Probably, I feel like an actual add-ult because I am more stable and secure in a relationship than I have ever been before. I can't tell you how good that feels. I can't tell you because, let's be honest, I've never known what the hell I was doing. Admittedly. I always thought all that "you know when you know" drivel that Hollywood likes to force down your throat (probably another Brittany shot in there somewhere) was a bit dramatized. But gol darn it, I think I feel it. Kind of makes me think I've been Colin Haying all these years. I have known my gal for almost 12 years now. She dated my freshman-year roommate in college and was like my third roommate back during those tumultuous and momentous years in our social maturation. And we have stayed in touch ever since, no matter where either of us went. Okay, her mostly -- I'm frightened to leave the 494/694 loop here in Minneapolis. I'm not trying to say that we were destined to be together or something -- that old fashioned Hollywood antipathy again -- but let's just say that the story itself is oddly comforting and makes things feel right. More on my theory of "things feeling right" soon. In the meantime, it just feels really good to not be analyzing every little word, to be polling all my friends on relationship strategy, or to be trying to decide how someone's 1" x 1" Match photo will translate to the dimmed bar light where we meet (after I'm three beers in) and being complimented two days later for being really good and sensitive at turning someone down for a second date (yeah, I was suprised too).

From the No bleep Sherlock Files

2007-04-04T14:05:00.000-07:00

Via the startribune.com. I cannot possibly put into writing an "oh really?" phrase that will convey the sarcasm necessary to really hit home....

Keith Richards joking when he said he snorted dad's ashes, spokesman says

Associated Press

Last update: April 04, 2007 – 9:37 AM

LONDON — Keith Richards' spokesman says the Rolling Stones guitarist was making a joke when he claimed he snorted his father's ashes.

The spokesman says it was "an off-the-cuff remark, a joke, and it is not true.''

Richards had told a British music magazine that he had snorted his father's ashes mixed with some cocaine.

Spokesman says Richards was joking when he said he snorted dad's ashes

Original Thought

2007-03-29T16:35:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been awhile since this blog was more than just a link-o-rama, but I think the time has come (heh heh..come) to jump back into the habit of regularly presenting new material. Or at the very least, un-original thoughts set in an orginal context -- like quoting movies to your friends in "appropriate" situations, or carrying around your favorite sound bites on a Motorola Q and dropping them into conversation. What? No one's done that? It's called "original context" people and it's sweeping the nation.

I would set an arbitrary goal for myself, like say posting once a week at least, but we all know I can't hold myself to that, so let's just call it a rough guideline. My duties (heh heh...duties) at Tuesday's With Torii are less than a week away from intensifying, so the bar can't be set too high.

The urge to write has always been an elusive thing for me. I'm definitely not the first to say it, but often it's anxiety that is required to motivate. Or alcohol. Or tragedy. Some kind of intense emotional impetus where the catharsis of putting thought into ink or keystrokes becomes, if not necessary, soothing. Either that, or a lot of random crazy shit happens to you, and you just need to tell others to confirm that it is in fact unusual that all this stuff happens to you for some reason. For me personally, I have always looked at this site and TWT as more of an exercise in writing. Sure, catharsis has been a large part of the equation in the past (see The Purification -- actually, don't, it's depressing), but I genuinely enjoy the act of writing for the act itself, and the pipe dream that exists (WARNING: self-indulgence ahead) deep in the recesses of my mind that I might one day retire and try to write as a retirement gig. I'll probably end up just playing a lot of golf. And when all in your life is genuinely just...good...nay great(!)...the activation energy required to sit down at the computer and pound something out is just that much greater than the energy required to page through the Tivo list for something you might have missed last week. Plus, good news is just not that entertaining -- made up news is much better. Please flip to Fox News for verification.

Trickier yet is that entertainment value and the personal details of one's life are in humor disharmony. I don't care what you ate for breakfast or how many reps you did at the gym. That is, unless, something crazy happened WHILE you were eating breakfast, like your Alphabits spelling out sentences imploring you to kill your neighbors and family. Now THAT is m-fing interesting.

There is also a delicate balance here of personal revelation and relative anonymity. The fact is that a lot of your readers are people you know. So you can't reveal too much. For fear of reprisal, obviously. Seriously though, I don't want to get fired because I have a foul mouth, and try to push the limits of decency with strained metaphors induced by the comfortable cocoon of The Internets. And similarly, I don't need my friends and relatives to get fired because their most entertaining moments take place in the backwoods of northern Wisconsin, where only blaze-orange and camoflauged souls bear witness. Yes, even their souls are hunting fasionistas in Sconi. And most of them have never even heard of The Internets.

So sit back and relax, my friends and lovers, and enjoy/tolerate all that my defective brain has to offer...

Sand Sculptures Are Neat

2007-03-26T19:12:00.000-07:00

This link goes out to Kaiser, the best sand sculpture artist this side of the Mississippi, north of the Mason Dixon Line, and with Lyme Disease.

Reasons Wisconsin Will Lose to UNLV In Round 2 (If Not Earlier)

2007-03-13T17:42:00.000-07:00

UNLV RUNNIN' REBELS > Wisconsin

Wisconsin is not that good of a team.
They have a good record...because they played a Big 10 schedule and did not have many impressive wins. The Big 10 was not good this year, even though many people seem to think so. The conference will be 2-3 in the first round.
Brian Butch is out for the tournament, so goes Wisconsin's inside game.
Kammron Taylor is not the type of point guard which can win a game for his team. He does not shoot the ball particularly well and makes poor decisions.
UNLV has played well as of late and is more athletic than Wisconsin overall.

This being said, Wisconsin will probably win, but I wanted give Chris Rock his due and come out of blogging retirement in the process.

LexiConman

2007-01-23T12:45:00.000-08:00

In an attempt to contribute postively to the national lexicon, I submit the following new phrases for your consideration for use in a situation when something is L. A. M. E., lame.

"Man, that is so Lame Bryant."
"Dude, that's Wysteria Lame."

Speaking of lame, or the opposite thereof, has anyone seen Robot Chicken on Cartoon Network? It's Seth Green's semi-animated show. They use either animation or action figures to act out skits and it is freaking hilarious. A sample, conbining the genius of video games past and present:

Good Acoustics in Here

2007-01-19T11:55:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, I know. This blog is turning into a links festival before our very eyes, with little to no original content, but sometimes we don't choose these things. They choose us.

For your amusement, I give you an acoustic version of the fabulous(ly overplayed) song "Hey Ya" by Outkast. I think this video is a bit of an internet sensation, so I'm just doing my part to contribute to the viral video revolution.

Via: VideoSift

Update:
Apparently, this is Matt Weddle of the band Obadiah Parker, who is now officially on my "Music groups to check out" list. Check them out on Myspace, or on iTunes...

A Public Service Announcment

2007-01-12T08:58:00.000-08:00

(Click to play)

Appropriate For Children?

2007-01-04T12:52:00.000-08:00

I took this picture during the holidays at the Macy's display in downtown Minneapolis, which was constructed to tell the children's tale of Mary Poppins. Apparently, I never read this version, because I don't remember it being so NC17. Or maybe my mind is warped by Maxim magazine, and by living with too many male roommates for years...

(click to enlarge)

Spamtacular

2006-12-11T12:50:00.000-08:00

Some exemplary spam a friend recieved some time ago:

From: MSLH MRAD

To: My buddy

Sent: Friday, October 13, 2006 2:12 PM

Subject: Your wife prefers your dogs penis to yours?

With our new Viagra Soft Tabs you will be able to open a bottle of beer with your penis.
http://ghidejlabfkm.pocketmask.info/?cabfkmxwtrryghizchcmdejl?

Now that's the kind of thing that gets my attention.

Wreckomendation: O.J.

2006-11-20T08:53:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to do something on O.J.'s new book since I heard about it, but I'm clearly not as creative as Ben Greeman from McSweeney's. So since he has beaten me to the punch, check out "Fragments From If I Did It! The Musical" below:

FRAGMENTS FROM IF I DID IT! THE MUSICAL.
BY BEN GREENMAN
- - - -

(JUDITH REGAN is in bed. She wakes up.)

JUDITH REGAN

Last night I had the strangest dream.
An angel came to me. It seemed
As though he tumbled down from heaven high.
He had the gentlest tone. His voice, it did beguile.

He wanted me to make a book
That turned back time to take a look
At the O.J. Simpson murder trial.
Then he flew back up into the endless vault of sky.

Part of me would like to go right back to bed.
Instead I think I'll do just what the fallen angel said.

(While she is singing, O.J. SIMPSON appears at her bedside. He walks slowly as a result of his injured knees, but when he hears his name mentioned he brightens.)

O.J.

Oh, how I wish that you would help me.
I need another chance to state my case.
I have been suffering for years now.
Golfing and nightclubbing in disgrace.

(JUDITH REGAN hops out of bed. She is fully dressed in a business suit. She takes O.J. by the arm and leads him to a waiting limousine. In the car, she begins to explain her plan.)

JUDITH REGAN

I'll rent us a studio.
We'll talk about that night.
America will see you
In a wonderful new light.

Obviously, we'll also
Use the program to promote
The sale of the tell-all
Companion book you wrote

Remembering the dead
While honoring the living.
It's quite a brilliant stroke.
I'm shooting for Thanksgiving.

(The limousine pulls up at a television studio. O.J. limps out of the car. JUDITH REGAN hops out after him. The two of them enter and take their seats.)

JUDITH REGAN

I know that it is hard for you
To relive your darkest day.
Start when you are ready.
Say what you want to say.

O.J.

Well, let's see.
I've forgotten a lot.
We were happily married and then we were not.
There were fights. There were drugs.
There were rumors galore.
Some of the rumors were hard to ignore.

I am thinking in particular of one I heard one night,
That she was in a threesome. I felt that wasn't right.

(Curtain parts. Dry-ice smoke is released. The FLASHBACK PLAYERS—puppet versions of O.J., NICOLE, and RON GOLDMAN—appear. O.J. is driving in his car toward NICOLE's house.)

O.J.

I am mad.
I am mad.
Holy God am I mad.
What I think
I may do
Is horrifically bad.

In my hand,
In my hand
Is a dangerous knife.
I am paying
A visit
To my wanton ex-wife.

This is it.
This is it.
Bundy Drive, I presume.
The children
Are sleeping
Upstairs in their rooms.

What is that
That I hear?
There's a voice in my ear.
Be quiet.
Be quiet.
A waiter draws near.

(RON GOLDMAN approaches the house, holding NICOLE's glasses. He rings the bell. NICOLE answers.)

RON GOLDMAN

I am just a simple, kindly waiter.
I smile and bring exactly what you want.
That is why I said that I might drop by later
With the glasses that you left behind at the restaurant.

NICOLE

Thank you, Ron, oh, thank you, Ron.
This is what we agreed upon.
Now would you like to come in for a drink?
I am wearing a black dress.
It's kind of short, I guess.
But we're all adults here, don't you think?

(O.J. leaps from behind a bush, waving around his knife.)

O.J.

Stand back.
Stand back.
It's time for me
To attack.

Now I'll chop off your head
Until you're good and dead.
The ground will be stained red
At the place where you bled.

(O.J. kills NICOLE and RON GOLDMAN.)

O.J.

Whatever I just did, I didn't do it.
And if I did, I didn't. That's denial.
Does it bother me?
Sure, it does, a little.
But I'll see you at the trial—
Or maybe I should say at the acquittal.

(Dry-ice smoke fills the frame again. The FLASHBACK CHORUS appears, consisting of puppet versions of Judge Lance Ito, Marcia Clark, Christopher Darden, Johnnie Cochran, Paula Barbieri, Kato Kaelin, Marcus Allen, Phil Spector, and Robert Blake.)

CHORUS

Murder, mayhem, spousal abuse:
The Juice is loose! The Juice is loose!

Trial, acquittal, civil award:
He who lives by the sword does not die by the sword.

Murder, mayhem, spousal abuse:
The Juice is loose! The Juice is loose!

Book deal, magazines, TV show:
From open wounds great profits flow.

(The FLASHBACK PLAYERS disappear with a puff of smoke, showing O.J. and JUDITH REGAN back in the TV studio.)

JUDITH REGAN

That puppet show was wonderful
And really quite affecting.
O.J., is that the start of tears
That I'm detecting?

(O.J. reaches for a tissue.)

O.J.

I can't go on like this.
My kids can't see me this way.
The search for the real killers
Begins in earnest today.
I swear on the life
Of my lovely ex-wife.
It begins in earnest today.

(The TV interview ends. JUDITH REGAN goes home and goes to sleep. She sleeps soundly, surprisingly. In the morning, she awakes to birdsong.)

JUDITH REGAN

Oh, what a beautiful day.
I've never had a feeling quite like this.
The sun coming up in the east
Feels like the sweetest kiss.
I've published them all, from Canseco to Stern.
Top cop Bernie Kerik was my client and lover.
But this book, I promise, it will sell and sell.
It'll go straight to No. 1 in hell!
I can already smell that sulfurous smell.
I just have to remember to fireproof the cover.

(The birds outside JUDITH REGAN's window sing the theme song to The Naked Gun.)

Top Five Yes, No, and Maybe Respones To An Evite Party Invitation

2006-11-10T14:11:00.000-08:00

Yes
"Of course we'll both be there you douchebag. We're conjoined twins."

"No sorry, we have to...oh crap. The paint's already dry. Yeah, we'll be there I guess."

"Well, it looks like not having an exit strategy in Iraq screwed me. But what great timing! I didn't think I was going to be able to make it to the party, what with running the defense department and all, but now I've got loads of time on my hands, so I guess I better start formulating an entry strategy! (lol) Raise the party alert level to orange bitches! Rummy's on the prowl!"

"Graduation party!? Sounds great! Your recently divorced mom is going to be there right?"

"You couldn't keep me away with a restraining order! Seriously, it's not going to stop me."

No
"Wish I could make it! Unfortunately my sex change operation got switched to that day. Nuts!"

"Dude. Your parties suck. And what part of 'kazoo medley' and 'Who Let the Dogs Out?' do you think actually go together?"

"While a Star Trek themed orgy sounds like a good idea, I think my Spock ears are at the cleaners. I don't think Shatner and Picard gang-banging Sulu was what they meant by the 'Final Frontier.'"

"I'm unfortunately going to be flying back from Bolivia that day. Silvio said he'll have my nuts if I don't get those 50 kilos of...um...religious figurines...to the States by Monday. Keep it real homes. Hit my pager if you need some figurines bro."

"Can't make it guys, sorry. I don't know if you heard, but a one-armed man killed my wife and framed me for it! Can you believe that shit!? Yeah, so anyway I've been running from the cops and trying to prove it wasn't me that did it and you wouldn't believe how time-intensive that is. It's crazy, I'm telling you. Anyway, I think I have a couple clues, but I really need to spend this weekend working on them and this Federal Marshall is riding my ass and it's just a little too much on the plate right now. You understand, right? I'll catch the next one! Have a great time!"

Maybe
"I'd like to come to your birthday...but are you going to make us play spin the bottle with your cat again? Seriously, enough with the tongue Whiskers. I'm fucking clean already."

"While Rita and I are free that night, we're going to need some clarification....when you say B. Y. O. Farm Animal....um...why is that exactly?"

"I don't know if we can make it. We've got a pretty big day tomorrow. You guys have a great time though. We've got a pretty nice little Saturday planned, we're going to Home Depot. Yeah, buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring, stuff like that. Maybe Bed, Bath, & Beyond, I don't know, I don't know if we'll have enough time."

"Dude, I'm so high! The screen is like chemiphorescent or some shit. Mmm...trail mix."

"I'm sorry I have to ask this, but you guys are a politically active gay republican couple from Pennsylvania, so your invitation was a little confusing. What specifically is meant by 'Santorum Clean-Up Party'"?

I Like Sports

2006-11-08T11:26:00.000-08:00

A local radio show host likes to make fun of people who are obsessively compulsed to live and breath sports. Ironically, he works for a sports talk station, so make of that what you will. For an example, I invite you to listen to this classic rant. I never thought I was one of those people or rather, I never wanted to admit to being one of them. And here is the point in the story when you're waiting for me to tell you I AM in fact one of them. But it's not that simple.

Sports were thrust upon me at an early age. In fact, I believe I recieved perfect 6's for my double back with 1 1/2 twists out-of-the-womb-dive. My pike position was excellent. And having a dad that was a high school basketball star (one state title and two state title appearances) pretty much meant that I was going to be urged in that direction. When it turned out that I was freakishly tall on top of that, the story began to write itself for me. Now don't get me wrong, I was invested in playing basketball, soccer, baseball, and tennis all along, but in that way you "choose" as a kid where you're never totally aware of whether you are making the decision, or you are actually just being conned by your crafty parents.

Soccer, tennis, and baseball fell gradually to the wayside, but basketball persisted. Hair grew where there was none before. And a jump shot where there was none before. After having been one of the taller and therefore better players in grade school basketball leagues (a direct correlation), I fell back to the middle of the pack throughout junior high, but my genetic growth abnormalities eventually manifested just before my sophomore year and I was suddenly a literal big man on campus. Socially, not so big. I was frightened of females, in particular. And then it was off to the races, and basketball dominated my life for the next decade or so. So much so that I largely defined myself as a basketball player (as did others FOR me -- thanks a lot you stupid jerks).

Other sports crept in. I can't resist trying to master another sporting venture, or try to best my friends in something new, be it poker, golf, volleyball, tennis, lawn jarts, pool, jai alai, or full-contact wiffleball. Some sport loses its appeal, but another one inevitably captures my spirit. It's natural also, I have found, that when one gains an appreciation of a sport by having experienced it firsthand, watching it on TV or live as others play becomes much more appealing too. I never liked watching golf on TV before playing it and now you couldn't drag me from the TV when the Masters or U.S. Open is on. Before you know it, you're watching or playing something all the time, and there isn't time to do anything else. And in this way my life has gone for a very, very long time.

But recently the harsh reality has set in that I am no longer that reasonably coordinated and youthful competitor that I once was. I now have the body of an 85 yr old retired stuntman. Unfortunately, my brain hasn't realized that yet. It's broken, you see. And that has led to serious ego issues. The Star Tribune recently ran a series of stories about Kirby Puckett, and his life after being unable to play baseball anymore. In short, he thought not playing baseball anymore...oh, where is that quote? Ah yes, here it is, "It sucked." And he decided to fill the void with a not so healthy dose of double cheeseburgers and inactivity. You know how that turned out -- not so good. And while my metabolism has prevented me from getting that self-destructive, the void I feel is palpable. I now rely on golf, tennis, and volleyball to purge my competitive mana, while trying to ignore the urge to clad myself in white Izod polos that is associated with becoming (unintentionally) a country club athlete. But with the partial exception of volleyball, these are just no substitute for uber-competitive team sports that have been so integral in my life for such a long time.

So partly, I think, I have filled the void with sports viewing. And occassionally, sports photography. And most of all, sports criticism...of the curmudgeonly "back in my day" variety, usually. I hang out with the old teams and teammates. I talk about the good old days. I live vicariously through the youngins and the oldins that are still doing it. I try to make them remember I would've whooped them..you know...back when my knees worked. Talking trash is timeless, you see. I retire and retire and retire again, and intersperse each retirement with a matching comeback effort -- only to remember why the previous retirement occurred. But still, sports are a huge part of my life, and I know always will be.

But still I can't but feel cheated. Robbed. I'm not that old, after all. But borrelia burgdorferi took away at least a few good years and it's awfully hard to take out one's vengeance on a bacteria. Amoxicillin all up in your ass, bitch. Perhaps that's the true test of one's competitive spirit. Even when presented with an overwhelming amount of direct evidence to the contrary, you still think you can and need to do it like you once could.

Or maybe my brain is still not working properly.

Where I Been (wedding remix)

2006-10-23T17:48:00.000-07:00

I'm not a Christian.

I'm fairly certain that's the first time I've ever stated that explicitly. It frightens me in a social awkwardness, how-am-I-going-to-explain-this-and-appear-normal kind of way. The same way that my thoughts on Jesus Christ superstar usually come out....he was a kick-ass charismatic carpenter with a flair for the dramatic and maybe a few Copperfield-esque magic tricks, right? Justkiddingnotreally. Inevitably, when thrown into a religious discussion, I say some variation of the following: "Well, I'm not really religious. But I feel that I'm pretty spiritual." Or: "I'm a Deist with Buddhist tendencies." They are both pretty close to the truth. But in exactly zero ways do I feel any different morally or spiritually than all of my Christian friends, including a college friend who's now a pastor. Maybe not zero -- but you get the point.

The reason I bring this up is that my former roommate and one of my best friends from high school (and still) got married this weekend, and it dredged a lot of this up for me and in terms of "Where I Been" (parts 1 & 2 here and here, btw) has been taking up a lot of physical, mental, and spiritual energy in the last couple of months. Being involved in a wedding, in this case as one of two "Men of Honor", feels a lot like you are getting married yourself. Or at least, you are acutely aware that a LOT is about to change. For K, the man of the hour on Saturday, I'm not sure exactly how much will really change. I think that he's known for a some time that it was going to happen, and I'm incredibly happy for him that it did. Being that close to two people who are committing themselves to each other wholely is an amazing experience. Sitting in the pews is just not the same. Seeing every whisper and hug and gesture from three feet away is just completely different, and not one that I've been so connected to until now. So for me as "passive observer", it seems like a LOT has changed.

The ceremony was beautiful, and in fact, probably the most moving that I've been a part of or simply attended. Having the short-and-sweet wedding these days is the pop-culture equivalent of having a Myspace page for your band or movie -- the ultimate cliche. And in an odd way, it is an odd awesome-ness to have a slightly longer and more formal wedding in this day and age. In this case, it was an ecumenical extravaganza. "K" was raised Catholic. "Female K" was raised Methodist. And the ceremony was held in a Lutheran church. If that's not the formula for massive confliction, then I don't know what is. But somehow, it went off perfectly. And by "somehow", I mean seamlessly. And by seamlessly, I mean, the obsessive compulsive wedding coordinator (probably redundant) would not let her ship run aground, no matter what. While probably 20-25 minutes longer than your standard wedding, it still was rivetting. K and Female K are both from a college that has a long-standing musical tradition. Both sang in the choir at the end with a large group of their friends, who you get the feeling spend a lot of their weekends attending each others' weddings and singing in them. Funny how that works. It's sort of like how my college friends alternatively spend their weekends at each others' weddings drinking. Maybe that's not a perfect analogy.

A great time was had by all, and many of the usual wedding shenanigans were played out including (but not limited to): wedding party matchmaking, soul train line, ahh-inspiring speeches, and of course, driving around at 1am trying to buy three-two beer at Superamerica. Also, 40-yard dashes in the hotel hallways at 4am.

But I digress. Back to the religous thing. It occurred to me multiple times throughout the proceedings that it is strange how in a world where you seemingly only read about religious intolerance these days, it took an ecumenical army to marry my friends, and that was happily accepted and appreciated by all involved (at least, that was my impression). And from a personal standpoint, even though I have never enjoyed the imperative nature and stricture of most religions, I really enjoyed that aspect (the formality) of the ceremonies. It just fit K&K perfectly. There was even a brief communion which I particpated in, after just a brief moment of panic and indecision about whether I would be immediatly arrested by the Irony Police if I chose to participate. I realize that all I really did was eat a piece of wine-dipped bread (I think it was an Australian shiraz -- it had koala undertones), but I was raised Catholic and so communion has a lofty and serious place set aside somewhere in my subconscious. I figured out a solution though. As I asked K later, "I took communion with my left hand, so I didn't really commit to anything, right?"

K and Female K are two of the last of my friends who remain unattached to un-unattach themselves, leaving just a paltry few of us left not filing our taxes jointly. This has never really bothered me in the past, and I wouldn't say it still does, but I think for the first time it is kind of on the radar screen -- just a teeny tiny blip in the corner though. If nothing else, I would like to fake a marriage just for the presents (any supermodels reading can please contact me at the email address on the right, if interested in such a proposition). But sharing something that powerful and intimate, even in the midst of hundreds of your closest friends, has never felt like a more appealing thing til now.

Congrats to K&K.

No Clever Subject Needed

2006-10-18T19:30:00.000-07:00

Observe...

Wreckomendations

2006-10-16T14:37:00.000-07:00

We briefly interrupt the serial blog-effort that has been my life update, "Where I Been", to bring you a new feature: Wreckomendations. So titled because the items contained within may lead you to wreck your life by enhancing your procrastinatory abilities, as well as fueling them with likeable items upon which to procrast. Your bosses would fire me if they only were smart enough to hire me in the first place and learn of this diabolicalness. It's also so titled because I can't resist a poorly constructed play on words, as that part of my brain that deems things "real funny", "sort of funny", and "don't let people know you think that's funny" is defective.

The inaugural wreckomendation I discovered (once again) through one-time amateur stripper turned novelist/playwright/minor celeb Diablo Cody, and it's the blog of cutie-pie (that's what girls tell me), guitar playin', commercializin', cameo-izin' celebritay John Mayer. I particularly recommend October 10th, where MayMay discusses his (I assume fictional but one never knows) desire to become a professional tanner. Damn, I wish I'd thought of that.

A snippet:
"After graduating high school, I began to book a smattering of gigs, tanning at the occasional backyard barbecue and time capsule unearthing. I didn't make enough money to support myself, but I was able to build a portfolio; a rawhide-bound binder with photographs depicting strangers in various scenes of joviality, and my small, blurry form in the distance behind them. At that time I offered three styles of tanning: Bolivian, the most popular; Infernus, or "Latin" style, rumored to be a favorite of the singer Jon Secada, and the oft-reproached Mesopotamian, which when performed faithfully, calls for copious amounts of ecstasy pills and a very, very large Shetland pony."

There is also a lovely open letter to the fans of San Diego, California:
"I am writing to you this afternoon in regards to tonight's performance in your city. I hereby promise that at no time during my set will I make any reference to the movie Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. This includes, but is not limited to, the pronunciation of the area as "sahn-dee-ah-go", usage of the phrase "stay classy" and any reference to a whale's vagina. In fact, I will not draw attention to the vaginas of any members in the particular families within the order Cetacea. You deserve better, and it's time to let the healing begin. "

Huzzah, John Mayer. Huzzah.

And now back to your regularly scheduled self-glorification and-edification...

Where I Been

2006-10-11T13:22:00.000-07:00

Still no native american summer in sight here, and if anything, the weather's gotten worse today. El nino, my ass. Why is there no name for when winter comes early? I'm going with bushmen of the Kalahari winter.

But to continue where I left off yesterday, it has been an eventful couple of months. In July, Chicks and I were "evicted" by our soon-to-be-married friend from his humble home where we have lived and loved for two years. Mostly lived. It was in a borderline suburb, an inner ring if you will, and I for one will miss smoking cigars on the hammock out in the backyard, and the most athletically compromised cat of all time. But I guess you have to grow up sometime. Now we live right in the thick of the action, with numerous establishments serving spirited beverages within stumbling distance. They're building condos everywhere now here, in Minneapolis' new manifest destiny program, "A condo and mule for every urban settler." We got pretty fortunate, I think, to find such a great apartment (1050 sq ft, hardwood floors, stainless steel appliances, and his and hers front doors) in a really great neighborhood, for a very affordable price. Being a wiley veteran of Craigslist, it wasn't even that difficult. I also found some free plaid paving stones which I will use to tile Chicks' bedroom as a practical joke. He loves remodelling-related humor.

My current one-year contract with the company I work for is coming to an end soon. And I recently recieved the unfortunate news that another temporary position in a different part of the company that I had interviewed for and recieved insider information on (but not in a Gordon Gecko way) that I was first in line for was offered to someone else who was a little more affordable. That was probably the best run on sentence I've ever written. Apparently I priced myself right out of the job, much like Latrell Sprewell. However, not too worry, because things are looking up. I just recieved a new job offer in my inbox from a Lesley Pickens containing an astounding number of exclamation points! Apparently I can make like mid six figures while I work at home. Booyah!

(to be continued)

Time Keeps On Turning

2006-10-11T07:54:00.000-07:00

It's snowing.

Weather patterns in Minnesota are about as predictable as Al Gore's weight, and global warming (yes, Al has thoroughly convinced me) isn't helping one damn bit so far. Only days after I read somewhere that this may be one of the mildest winters on record, it is snowing for the first time here in Minny. Usually, this causes a great deal of jumping off of bridges from some Minnesotans, which is good because you want to get that in early before the water freezes. But I personally always look forward to it. Something about the passage of time or some other Thoreau-Walden-Pond-b.s. like that. Call me sentimental.

It's been awhile, faithful readers (if any of you are still left -- or ever existed in the first place), since I've exposited here. A slight case of Twins fever corrupted most of my creative energies, but now that Brad Radke is casting for marlins left-handed somewhere, I've begun to think more and more back to six foot two inches and the good times we've had. When was the last time I posted? ....holy crap, that was awhile ago. So much has happened since then.

(to be continued)

Sigh Phi Recommendations

2006-08-08T13:00:00.000-07:00

For some reason, just the other day it suddenly sprang into my head that I had not thought about The Darth Side in quite some time, and had never mentioned it on this blog. To shame. For those unfamiliar, The Darth Side (original blog here -or- in chronological order via html or pdf) is a fictional blog written from the perspective of Darth Vader during the the original three Star Wars movies. It is freaking fantastic, and highly recommended, even if you are not normally a sci fi or fantasy nut -- but especially if you are -- I mean, not that I am, but that's what I hear from..you know...those people. It sent me into a tailspin for weeks, trying to come up with my own angle on this -- blogs written by fictional characters. Unfortunately, the baseball season interrupted me and tailspinned my tailspin, and my promising blog novel about a bleu cheese-stuffed olive stuck in a pickle jar never really developed. Such is my life.

A sample from The Darth Side:

Vader’s Pastorale

Dull day. Arrived at Endor. Made Moff Jerjerrod cry.

My quarters aboard the new Death Star are quite satisfactory.
The smooth and precise action of the robotics in the hyperbaric
chamber are beyond reproach: I had barely sat down before it had
neatly divested me of my masque and slaved my life-support
systems into the host recharger. Also, I have a really spectacular
view -- three large triangular ports that look out upon the green and
white face of the Sanctuary Moon, the bright sun cantering
shadows across the verdant mountains and pillarous cloudscapes
while the silver crescent of Endor itself marches in stately orbit
behind.

There is something exhilarating about so much life. It is at
once inspiring and daunting, and a part of me quails at its chaotic
splendor and wishes for the homeliness of a wasted world like
Tatooine.

But where there is life there is the Force. Life nourishes it,
causes it to grow. It is in the crannies of life’s microscopic
machinery that the computer of the universe reaches its greatest
calculatory density: the probable fates multiply a millionfold, and
reality itself ripples in anticipation. A thousand times beneath the
perception of low men, the fabric of space quivers at the touch of
even a microbe.

When I close my eyes I can see the song this world describes
in the webs of the Force, uncountable infinitesimal tendrils
coalescing into a great hollow orb that rides beneath this station
pinwheeling through space about the white light and black chute of
the galactic fulcrum.

To wit, to wank: I enjoy the view.

Tomorrow I will oversee the testing of this Death Star’s new
weapons systems. Since things have fallen so woefully behind
schedule I anticipate crushing not a few tracheas. Shape up or
sputter to the floor unconscious -- that’s my motto.

This is a really good passage in my mind, and indicative of what the rest of the "lark" (as the author calls it) contains. He is very descriptive, especially when it concerns matters of the Force (Holy Force!) and how Vader experiences it, and then you get great lines like the last one. Another favorite: "How many tracheas does a guy have to crush with his mind to get some service around here?" I could tell immediately when I read this guy that he was uber-talented.

Anyway, if you read it (and you should) and it strikes your fancy, I also highly recommend another sci fi blog/short story/blog novel written by the same author (MFDH = Matthew Frederick Davis Hemming). He describes himself thusly: My name is Matthew Frederick Davis Hemming, and I am a peachy-tan coloured human being with brown hairs, blue eyes and a wide, frowning scar above my right knee. I am about 1.8 metres tall, and I weigh around 80 kilograms (or 801 Newtons) at 1G. I am not missing any significant parts of my body (I still live with my appendix and tonsils, for instance). I tend to speak English. I have been known to speak French. Also, I have been known in the Biblical sense. I have one wife and one of each flavour of children.) The other story is called Simon of Space, and it sent me into a similarly unproductive several weeks trying to catch up in the story and then following it to fruition. I believe it is now available in paperback form, and you can get your very own t-shirt, coffee cup, baby seal, or paperweight with the Simon of Space logo on it too. Enjoy!

Music To Sweat By

2006-07-31T09:48:00.000-07:00

Here’s an excerpt from a long ago email when discussing music with some friends and trying to “force” them to try “Escondida” by Jolie Holland:

Speaking of which...my selection sings about none of those things. She prefers to focus on morphine, assholes, and crazy british people.

After months of threats...I am finally force-feeding Jolie Holland to you. But, please, think of it not so much as force-feeding...as it is me already chewing her up for you and allowing ya'll to eat her from my mouth in tiny, manageable bites. Mmmm...ABC music.

My completely random discovery of this artist sprung from hearing "Mad Tom of Bedlam" (track 5) played on The Current very early on in its existence. Feeling tremendously empowered by the lyricissitude of the song, I immediately drove to the Electric Fetus (someone please explain to me what the fuck that means) to hopefully purchase the album that contained this lovely tune. As it turns out, this song is a very old folk song...sung over time by billions and billions of other wacky folk singers. And the rest of her album is far more...um...shall we say "out there, man" than expected. However, I've grown to Love her quirky (some say fingers on a chalkboard) way of singing...and you can't deny (well, you can until you've actually listened) her originality.

All I ask...and it's really more of a demand...is that you download and listen to the album at least twice before judging. If, after that, you've decided it's not your style...we'll split her in half and I'll give you the awesome, folksy, cover songs and take the bleeding, raw, original lyrictasticness for myself.

First off, I don’t know what “downloading” means, but I assume it’s a perfectly legal practice of obtaining music.

Secondly, that little email is less than or equal to the weirdness that was the Jolie Holland concert on Saturday. And for me, when music is involved, weird usually equals good.

The Quirky-Meter was off the charts. It would be fairly hypocritical of me to claim annoyance to her under-produced stage presence when that is what, in fact, drew me to her albums in the first place…so I won’t. Plus, I think the first words she said to the crowd were “I don’t believe in slick-ness”. (She then screamed “I am a Golden God”…no, not really)

The venue was outstanding…casual, sit-on-the-floor atmosphere, perfect for the mellowness that was to ensue. Although, when you don’t have one of those cozy places to crash, it ends up being like the usual sardine scene found at most clubs. It’s amazing the kind of spaces human beings will fit into for their love of art.

The first half of the show was made-up primarily of Jolie on the guitar or keyboard playing songs off of her new album, “Springtime Can Kill You”…backed by a guy on drums (and other percussion) and another on bass guitar. I bought this album the day it came out and have been slightly disappointed with it thus far. The aforementioned lack-of-slickness was less evident on this her third(?) album, and I was worried that the usual bigger=shittier equation was starting to take hold. But her live versions held true to the “coughing in the background” rootsiness that was prevalent on her earlier work. Including a few false-starts…reasons ranging from equipment issues to fucking up the words.

Her…let’s say casual…stage presence was fine, and totally within character. I was cool with the halting nature of the show…as she worked through instrument, lighting, and memory problems. However, and this is my only complaint, at times she seemed really disinterested in the whole process…which is off-putting. I know it’s art, but we did choose come to see the show…it’d be nice if the artist made the choice, as well.

But the concert, as with most things in life, completely turned around for me once she introduced the box fiddle. Ms. Holland seemed infinitely more comfortable holding this little beauty, and gone were the equipment problems that seemed to dog her through the first part of the set. This turn-around was aided by two other events, as well…she recognized a friend in the crowd (and gave no further explanation as to who it was) and called-out some folks near the stage that had apparently been talking her to distraction.

Whatever…the music got better.

I don’t remember the set list…but it was a nice mixture of old and new. And the second half embraced the talents of the other two musicians…something that didn’t happen earlier in the night. (And something that is, admittedly, difficult when dealing with songs that find their groove in being completely stripped-down). She played a nice version of Mad Tom of Bedlam (the song that started it all, for me) that woke the place up a bit, (Did I mention it was 150 degrees in the theater?) and finished the show on a much higher plane than where it started. I think the heat also caused sort of an awkward ending…the house lights stayed down in the usual “waiting for an encore” manner, but no one seemed to be waiting for an encore. The place cleared out pretty quick.

Not much of a review, I know. But I’m a blind, kool-aid drinking fan at this point…not sure I can write anything to make that transferable. But if you’re adventurous at all in your music tastes, check her out.

(Oh…there was an opening act. Sean Hayes…who I was vaguely familiar with going in. He couldn’t possibly have been mellower. I’d say an urban, effeminate Jack Johnson…with a falsetto. What’s not to love?)

Frankie (Really) Can't Relax

2006-07-19T09:06:00.001-07:00

I can't even imagine being this funny, but I'll try again soon. You won't be able to stop reading, and yet, you'll really, really want to. The pertinacious Francesca Vitale ladies and gentlmen.

Clicky clicky for sicky sicky.

A snippet:

In the morning, I'm going to write a letter to the school district urging them to incorporate useful [Spanish] phrases into the curriculum, like:

"Do you sell plungers?"

"You didn't tell me you were married, you asshole!"

"Do you know that your penis is sticking out of your shorts leg?"

"That menacing way you're wielding your switchblade is scaring the shit out of me."

Because no one should have to endure the shit I went through today due to a paltry education.

Bravo.

Unintentional Comedy

2006-07-10T16:07:00.000-07:00

Unintentional comedy comes in many shapes and sizes, and it is one of humanity's greatest gifts to...well...other humanity I suppose. It's funny how your brain works, but especially when you have the mental make-up of a mid-pubescent junior high school male, as myself and many of my friends happen to have. Hops remarked to me the other day (not that he's in this category -- but he is) how he saw a headline to the effect of "Crack Found in Space Shuttle Fuel Tank" and thought immediately about an imaginary Onion article with the same title, and started composing one in his head, no doubt investigating which South American country had financed the new shuttle and if said crack was to be brought into outer space to create a new market. I have to admit that I saw the same story but did not immediately turn the title this way in my mind. It took several seconds, actually.

I must be growing as a person.

Unfortunately, I still giggle whenever anyone uses the word 'duty'.

You can imagine why I was unable to turn away from this story I saw a headline for recently:
"Taking Sex From Films Violates Copyright Laws"

Last night on the Food Network, there was a classic unintentional comedy moment. It was Iron Chef America with Iron Chef Bobby Flay, Hannah Storm was a judge, and the secret ingredient was frozen peas. Shockingly all of this was perfectly normal. The fun began when one of the other pseudo-celebrity (and by this I mean she was not in the enormously useless catalog of celebrities in my head) judges was sampling some of the dishes from the challenger, who was doing a bunch of African-inspired dishes featuring the pea, including the frozen pea popsicle for dessert (yum? I can't decide). Anyway, peas were included in all his dishes, but were more of an accessory, and not necessarily the focal point, which is apparently a no-no in Iron Chef America. He got his ass whomped by Bobby Flay in the end, although I suspect there may have been match fixing going on, a la the Italian soccer scandal. The challenger's sous chef looked like he wasn't mincing OR chopping with usual vigor, so I'm pretty sure he was doing the cooking equivalent of point-shaving. But this poor nobody of a taste tester uttered almost this exact phrase when rendering her judgement of the contender's preparations:

"I really enjoyed all your dishes, but it just seems like I didn't experience the pea-ness enough."

Wait for it.

And giggle.

The worse thing is, 50 million people will watch this movie.

2006-07-10T15:31:00.000-07:00

The movie I am referring to is, of course, Snakes on a Plane...The much anticipated thriller releasing this summer in a theater near you. Samuel Jackson stars as an FBI agent who is transporting a witness by plane when a criminal mastermind begins releasing snakes on board to kill the witness. The very fact that a movie with a plot as masterful as this exists begs the question, 'how did it ever become to exist?' Well, I think it went a little bit like this....

In the think-tank room of New Line Cinema, screenplay writers sit around a table dumbfounded...

Writer #1: So guys, we need to compete with the big time movies next summer by producing a blockbuster hit that will take the world by storm.

Writer #2: I agree, but what can we do.

Writer #3: Well let's just think of the ingredients we want in the movie first and then worry about the plot.

Writer #2: Stupendous!

Writer #1: Well, we obviously need a recognizable name. Somebody see if John Malkovich is available.

Writer #2: Well, I heard Samuel L. Jackson has been offering to do movies for $50,000 grand after the population realized he has only been in one good movie. Let's nab him.

Writer #3: Sounds good. Well Samuel really had a connection to those sharks in "Deep Blue Sea", what if we had another animal confliting with the protagonist?

Writer #1: Snakes, it has to be snakes. We saw the bank that Anaconda pulled in.

Writer #2: Excellent, we also need to attract the male audience so we should have a water shower that causes the females in the movie to expose their nipples through their blouses.

Writer #1: Yep, and then we need an original setting like a plane or something. Ya, a plane. That's awesome.

Writer #3: All we need now is a plot...Actually, I think this thing has alread written itself. Good work boys.

Thus, the movies conception.

Guster is for lovers

2006-07-09T22:46:00.000-07:00

Before I attended the Basilica Block Party this past weekend I thought Guster's new album was their best work to date. Yet, after hearing all of their old songs at the BBP, mainly off "Goldfly," all of my previous recollections of that album came back to me...and now Goldfly is my favorite album...I would say Ganging up on the Sun comes in a close second with Keep It Together coming in an even closer third.

The best thing about Guster is that they rarely have a "bad song". Every one of their albums can be played from beginning to end without skipping a track. The BBP also showed how great the band is live...As opposed to many bands, Guster sounds exactly the same live as they do in the studio. Most singers sound much worse on the stage, but Guster's vocals might be better than their album songs.

Question for the masses: Where is the nearest blood bank around these parts...I know there is one in Mankato but am unsure of any other locations. Easy bucks man.

Don't. Want. To Live Like a Refugee.

2006-06-30T08:02:00.000-07:00

As Michael Rappaport purports in the movie Beautiful Girls about Matt Dillon's character, "It's classic Birdman. It's not funny, but it is true." Well this is the opposite -- it's not true, but it is funny. You'd think I'd be more sensitive with a friend interning in Kabul for the summer....like you do. Seriously, interning in Kabul. And with two more friends on their way to Kampala. But that's what happens when you go to a crazy liberal arts school during your formative years...

(via The Onion)

Somalia Defeats Rwanda To Win Third-World Cup

KHARTOUM, SUDAN—The host city of the 2006 Developing Nations Football Championship erupted in cheers that nearly drowned out the cries of the starving and wounded Tuesday when the underdog Somali side, playing four down due to injuries and landmines, outlasted the more experienced if disease-ridden Rwandans 1-0 to win the inaugural Third-World Cup.

Enlarge Image

"This is a relatively great day for Somalia," said team captain Omar Bin-Shakur, the seasoned veteran whose rise from squalor in the violent ghettoes of Mogadishu to stardom in the squalid and violent ghettoes of the Sudan is already passing into legend. "It seemed like nothing could stop us in the title match—not the great Rwandan defender Bimenyimana, not the mortar strikes, not the rotting cow in midfield, not dysentery…nothing."

"They were simply the better team today," Rwandan star Calvin Bimenyimana said, speaking to reporters as the soccer stadium was transformed from a football pitch back to its usual function as an outdoor prison for Darfur refugees awaiting execution. "Yet I am extremely proud of my mates. They did well just to get here, especially after the Sierra Leone match in which Nicodemus was red-carded and shot, and our epic battle with Chad, in which they came at us with rocket-propelled grenades when our team bus attempted to cross the border into the Sudan."

Bimenyimana, whose youth coaches in Rwanda considered him a natural for the sport after his hands were chopped off with machetes in 1994, was chosen as the Nestlé Man Of The Match by fans, the first-ever Third-World Cup participant from the losing side to be chosen. However, some aficionados say that Bimenyimana played a lackluster game; at press time, FIFA-3 officials were investigating reports that armed gunmen had shot and killed hundreds at designated Nestlé Man Of The Match voting stations.

Somalia was only a fifth seed entering the Cup tournament, and while the Third-World Cup rankings are considered notoriously inaccurate, the nation's weak midfield, inexperienced goalkeeper, and devastatingly low rates of economic growth and standards of press freedom seemed to indicate that they would be eliminated in the early rounds.

"Certainly it did not look good for us going in to be placed with Afghanistan, host team Sudan, and the [Democratic Republic Of The] Congo," said Somali coach Abdi Qani. "But every other team was at the mercy of the same sporting and economic factors. In the Third-World Cup, every group is the Group Of Death."

After only surviving the first round due to inspired play, UN-supplied antibiotics, and a forfeit during the Sudan game when four Sudanese players seized control of their team and shot eight others during penalty time, Somalia assumed the unexpected status of the tournament's Team Of Destiny.

"Never have the words 'win or go home' provided such inspiration to any team," Bin-Shakur said. "I am overcome with joy, as well as hunger, and I look forward to bringing the Third-World Cup trophy home to my country."

The Third-World Cup trophy, an AK-47 coated with gold spray-paint and mounted on a pallet of United Nations staple foods, has already been seized by Somali troops and distributed amongst ranking military officers.

And Now For Something Completely Different

2006-06-27T11:06:00.000-07:00

Hey guys! What's up yo!? What have you been up to?

Sorry for the punctuated posting lately, but busy times abound. And speaking of busy times, a lot of mental energy not being taken up by Eddie Vedder and Tom Petty playing together on the same stage on the same night (awesome) has been allocated to a brand new blogging venture called Tuesdays With Torii. It's a play on words. Hopefully it will get the creative juices flowing over in this direction, as well.

I implore you to check it out on a semi-irregular basis, as it promises to be quite entertaining. But what's it all about, you ask? Well, fortunately our mission statement has just gone up. While it promises to be baseball-themed, it will by no means be baseball-intensive. At least....we think. It will be a work in progress -- much like the super slo-mo version of Leaving Las Vegas that I'm perpetrating on my liver.

Check it out.

Science is Sacrilicious

2006-06-13T09:24:00.000-07:00

As some readers know, I have rather geekish tendencies. Being employed as a scientist doesn't help. Sometimes when I hear myself tell people what I do, I can't even believe that I'm saying it. It sounds like I'm a 4-yr old kid who is talking about what they want to do when they grow up and the only options they have to choose from are those way over generalized job categories they saw in a Curious George or Clifford the Dog book. Such as:

Astronaut
Scientist
Fireman
Forensic Paleontologist

Anyhoo, once in awhile I'm proud of my fellow pocket-protectored, white tape on the glasses, differential equation solving, bretheren. And this is one of those moments.

"Drinking coffee cuts alcohol's harmful effects" -- Just a cup a day helps prevent cirrhosis of the liver, researchers say

Booyah. I knew it. I love when studies give me an excuse to continue all the behavior that I was already engaging in.

I also ran across this newsletter recently, which I may or may not be admitting to subscribing to and poring over each time I get it (see earlier geek comment). The third item down concerns scientists at Harvard, who are undertaking a huge project to try and successfully clone a human embryonic stem cell, which will have the potential to cure (read: not just TREAT, but CURE) countless human diseases. As an aside, we really are at a hugely important time in human history, where we can understand diseases at a level in which we can actually repair them at their root cause. That is so bitchin. Anyway, this part of the snippet (snippet-ette?) stood out to me:

"Science has to recognize that it has a huge power in our day and age, and that power, if it goes off the rails, will become a very exploitative and dangerous power in our midst," Rev. Tadeusz Pacholczyk, director of education at the National Catholic Bioethics Center in Philadelphia, told the Boston Globe. "This is an example of moving directly toward that end."

First of all, I totally agree with the good Reverend, advances in science sometimes come without careful thought for the ethics and morality involved. Even if you as a researcher don't personally agree that some things are sacred, a lot of people do. A lot of scientists have almost as much zeal for the religion of the scientific method as religious wacko types do about biting snakes or strapping dynamite to their midsections. But the humor of the existence of the National Catholic Bioethics Center has still not escaped my satirically inclined synaptic radars. I love that whenever a big science issue gets into more mainstream (read: clueless) press outlets, some crackpot organization is always given a chance to comment (I mean "crackpot" in the nicest possible way Reverend -- it's not that I don't question your knowledge of science issues -- but I think you might be somewhat biased -- not that I'm not -- too many digressions -- okay back to our regularly scheduled prose) Therefore, I have decided to form my own crackpot organization that will comment on all new church-related issues that come out, for example when those scrolls came out that showed that maybe Judas wasn't that bad of a dude after all. Who knew? Next thing you know they'll be telling us that Jonah was actually swallowed by a really big mackerel. Now all I need for my organization is a catchy name.

A few candidates:
Holy Cow Hindu Comission
Dead Sea Scroll Oversight Committee

You think you've got a better one?

Math Lesson

2006-06-09T13:30:00.000-07:00

Well, I guess this is more like algebra.

equals

...Yet There Is Method In It

2006-06-07T08:32:00.000-07:00

Tis madness, but this is kind of what I feel like lately. From The Onion:

Rogue Scientist Has Own Scientific Method

June 5, 2006 | Issue 42•23

TALLAHASSEE, FL—Only months after abandoning a tenured position at Lehigh University, maverick chemist Theodore Hapner managed to disprove two of the three laws of thermodynamics and show that gold is a noxious gas, turning the world of science—defined for centuries by exhaustive research, painstaking observation, and hard-won theories—completely on its head.

The brash chemist, who conducts independent research from his houseboat, has infuriated peers by refusing to "play by the rules of Socrates, Bacon, and Galileo," calling test results as he sees them, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

(read the rest for more hilarity-ensuing)

Spelling Bee

2006-05-31T15:57:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the long break, but I've been waiting for everyone I know to finish getting married so I can stop drinking. More on my sis's (<-that word is three-quarters s's -- rad) nuptials soon, but in the meantime here's a little treat for you...

Spelling Bee Finalist Eliminated on the Word “Girlfriend”

Christopher Heck, a finalist at last week’s Scripps National Spelling Bee, was eliminated when he was unable to spell the word “girlfriend.” Bee champion David Tidmarsh then clinched the title by successfully spelling “autochthonous,” a word meaning “indigenous.”

Heck, 13, gamely tried to spell “girlfriend” for several minutes, asking its origin (English), definition (“a favored female companion or sweetheart”) and for it to be used in a sentence. Bee Master Michael Winchester provided Heck with the sentence: “You will never have a girlfriend,” prompting the boy to break into tears and run off the stage.

Heck’s mother, Bonnie, who homeschools her three children in the dining room of their Peoria, Illinois home, said this is not the first time her son has been tripped up by a seemingly simple word. “Last year in the Illinois state competition he was knocked out when he failed to spell ‘popularity’ correctly,” she said. “It was a word he had no concept of or experience with.”

Spelling Bee officials say it is an unwritten rule that Bee Masters do not ask spellers words that may have negative emotional connotations for the children. “It is our goal to not upset the children or remind them of their status as social outcasts,” said Beth Riley, director of the Spelling Bee. “That’s why you’ll never see words like ‘dork,’ ‘gayboy,’ ‘nerd,’ ‘wedgie,’ or ‘loser’ in a spelling bee. These kids hear those words enough on a day-to-day basis and don’t need to deal with hearing them in the one place their special talents are celebrated.”

Riley also stated that while such words may be simple for most people to spell, they can provide an enormous challenge to even the best child spellers. “You have to realize what these kids go through each day in school,” she said. “If you ask them to spell an easy word like ‘queerbate’ or ‘retard,’ a lot of them will freeze up because of all the emotional baggage they have tied to a word like that. They’re completely unable to spell it, and many of them will wet their pants upon hearing such words. I’ve seen it happen.”

But Heck said he was unable to spell “girlfriend” simply because the word is foreign to him and because girls think he is weird, not because he is taunted about it. “My mother homeschools me because she says I’m special and that the normal kids at public school would be a detriment to my educational well-being, so I don’t get ridiculed too much – except when my family takes its monthly trip to the shopping mall,” he said. “Then I get my share of abuse if I stray away from mother or father.”

Heck claims the Spelling Bee was only the second time he ever heard the word “girlfriend.” “I once heard it on television when I was staying at my cousin’s house while my mother was giving birth to my little sister, so I know what it means,” he said. “But that was the only time. We don’t have a television at my house because my parents say TV is for proletariat ignoramuses.”

Riley said the Bee Master Winchester has been reprimanded about his choice of context sentence for Heck’s word.” “Not only did he use a word that is a bit risky with most of these kids,” said Riley, “but the sentence he used to describe it was highly inappropriate. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“I apologized to Heck about making him cry,” said Winchester. “I didn’t mean to do it, I just couldn’t find the paper with the context sentence, so I simply said what came to my mind first. I looked up at that kid and all I could think was: ‘You will never have a girlfriend.’ I’m sorry he took it so personally.”

(via Sportspickle)

Charlie Sheen Update

2006-05-16T18:49:00.000-07:00

Visual proof of what most of us had previously known.

Reality - 1.
Charlie Sheen - 0.

P.S.: Sheen is starting to make Ward Churchill seem like a saint.

I've said it before and I will say it again: Extreme liberalism (or conservatism) is a mental disorder.

Urban Kickball and Other Ways To Get In Trouble

2006-05-16T12:03:00.000-07:00

Before I forget, I just had the following conversation:

Random Woman In My Building: "Wow. Has anyone ever told you you're tall?"
Me (drowsily, due to lack of coffee): "Nope. You're the first."
RWIMB: "Really?"

It's that easy folks.

The weekend was a fairly eventful one, although it did illustrate that I may be approaching an age in which I don't appreciate college-kid type shenanigans as much as I used to. I felt old a bit more often than I care for, and that has never been a comfortable feeling for me in the first place. I'm quite sure that my relative level of consumption (compared to alumni games past -- also compared to my doubles table tennis partner) contributed to that. But I had to get up early(ish) the next morning to celebrate momhood, so what are you gonna do? Kudos to my sister on an amazing Mother's Day brunch.

Four dozen alums or so showed up for the game and festivities this weekend which was some kind of record. Of those 40-odd people, three are getting married this summer. And of those three, two were taken out on the town for a joint bachelor party on the Friday night preceding the game. The highlight of night, the (unintentional?) brainchild of Sebbylite, was Urban Kickball. Followed closely by Urban Four Square. The rules of Urban Kickball are simple:

Materials needed:
*Rowdy and/or drunken people (usually males)
*Kickball (standard issue)
*Urban setting
*Optional: cops and/or security guards

Rules (let's call them loose guidelines):
*Boot ball from sidewalk to sidewalk, preferably over semi-busy city streets, with occassional bank shots off of tall office buildings
*Avoid cops and/or security guards
*Use occassional "back heels" and "through balls" to fain interest/competence in soccer methodologies
*Headers encouraged
*Avoid injury
*Occassionally whip ball at other people with great force which upon striking them shall render them "out"
*Oh yeah...drink a lot

By the way, there are no repercussions for being "out" except for the slightly increased ridicule coming from the other "players". I say slightly increased because there is usually a standard baseline level of ridicule going on at all times when this group is together. Urban kickball was a rousing success, and I hope to play it again soon. Amazingly, there was a 14-way tie for first place during this, the first annual Urban Kickball Invitational.

As usual, the best part of the weekend was getting to see a bunch of people that you were extremely and intensely close with at one point in your life, in the way that being in college and competing in a team sport makes you. I pity anyone who has never had a chance to experience that kind of closeness. Truly. And seeing each other again ove a 40 or two brings it all back, climaxing in a messy, karaoke-fueled, hug-fest at the end of the night when everyone realizes they are soon returning to reality.

P.S. Check in at Sebbylite for more highlights/stories/romantic pursuits/incriminating photos...

Alumni Weekend

2006-05-12T10:11:00.000-07:00

As the medium one mentioned, "thirteen feet of man" will be barnstorming the midwest collegiate countryside (well, our alma mater anyway) this weekend at the annual love-fest that is our alumni game weekend. The sport for which we have bled blood and sweat sweat is ultimate frisbee and the alumni game has become and been a frequent-flyer-worthy event for even the Teach For America and not-for-profit types that have recently graduated, even as they dodge creditors and federal lenders that enabled them to get a Top 5 education and associated crippling debt load in the first place. Something on the order of 40 or so alumni are pencilled in for attendance, which is allegedly a record -- and by quite a margin. Color me excited, as Saturday of this weekend typically gets "Crazy" (also the official song of the weekend and my unofficial new favorite song -- sure to last at least a week).

Ouch in 3...2...1...

Editor's Note: Ultimate frisbee is NOT played with dogs, nor is it frisbee golf. And please don't call our favorite sport frisbee football. I can't stress this enough people.

The weekend will also serve as a suitable event in which to celebrate the upcoming nuptials of two alums, Peaches and PBo (these are not pseudonyms -- ultimate tends to lend itself to cutesy nicknames for some reason (ie. Kaiser)). I'm not recalling exactly how Peaches got his nickname, but can say that he bears only a slight resemblance to a "Persian apple". We will wish them well on their journey towards increased flatulence, bulbousness, and inside jokes with their significant other, which clearly is the goal of marriage in the first place. I'm personally hoping to avoid some of the "typical" bachelor party activities -- you know, like shotgunning acetone and interstate slip 'n slide contests. But seriously folks, I just don't get into the whole women taking their clothes off for me thing. Wait...what did I just say? What I meant was, I don't like to pay for it. Unless I'm in a Korean massage parlor where (I'm told) it's just plain good manners.

The weather has decided not to cooperate with the aforementioned activities thus far. Sebbylite got off the plane from Seattle, discovered it was 40 and rainy, and had to shake off the overwhelming feeling of deja vu before getting in my car. At least if it was snowing, he'd know where he is. And I'm not talking about Anchorage. But we shall overcome. That's "Minnesota nice" for you -- we do everything we can, including changing the weather, to make outsiders feel welcome.

Strange But Awesome

2006-05-06T08:43:00.000-07:00

Has anybody else seen this ??? Very weird. It seems like the next logical step in the sequence of competitive video gaming. First there were video games, then multiplayer games...then online multiplayer games...then a competitive video game league with cash prizes and now this. It kind of blurs the distinction between fantasy and reality in an unsettling way, but if people want to invest their own money in a fantasy world then I say go for it.

Working For the Weekend

2006-05-04T12:24:00.000-07:00

A little gift for you all for the weekend as my posting has been reasonably non-existent here lately due to profound amounts of work and the way that warm (finally) weather causes my brain to expand in its bony case, disrupting neural pathways and causing severe dilusions where I think that this will finally be the year that my short game materializes and I shoot even par. I realize the weekend doesn't begin tomorrow. My skull isn't THAT small. But for me it is a Friday today, as wedding activities take precendent tomorrow and it is a day off and early start to the weekend for me.

Pooh and I will be doing at least 6, if not all of the above dances this weekend as our college friend E is getting married. No, he's not the E from Entourage, but he is a reasonable approximation. Actually, check that. He's more like Vince, since our E has at least two television credits to his name, both of the reality variety. I'm sure he'll be very proud of his own work in say 13-15 years when he has teenage kids that will be thoroughly embarrased by the whole debacle.

"Hey daddy? No one really bought the virginal angle when you were on this pseudo-reality reality show, did they? And why do you keep quoting Shakespeare? "

Also appearing at this wedding will be (as mentioned by Pooh earlier) WS, otherwise known as Wally Szerbiak. He is allegedly a groomsman and hilarity is almost certainly going to ensue. Tall tales to follow...

Sigur Ros

2006-05-03T10:57:00.000-07:00

Sigur Ros is an unconvential band out of Iceland that is definately worth listening to. They sing in the Icelandic language (which is probably the most complex language in existence) and have heavenly voices. They really can't be labled as a certain genre of music but I would say they are a mix between Radiohead, Death Cab for Cutie and choir music. Download some of their stuff and check it out.

Redemption's Son

2006-04-30T21:18:00.000-07:00

There's nothing like a MVP caliber season and a few game winning shots to make people forget that Kobe was very recently the epitome of arrogance in the NBA (that whole adultery thing did not help much either). Good work fickle America.

Yes, he has shown greater signs of leadership this year and has bonded with the Zenmaster...blah... blah...blah, but this should not warrant his recent Royal Treatment by the media. I am all for giving people a second chance, but in this case I think Kobe's success on the court has undeservedly changed people's perception of his character off the court.

Required Reading for Chix

2006-04-21T00:34:00.000-07:00

The guide to chasing the urban cougar. Read it, Chix, you'll thank me later.

MVP Debate

2006-04-18T20:02:00.000-07:00

The whole NBA MVP debate is ridiculous. Until the definition of "MVP" is understood the debate is irrelevant. Is the MVP the best player in the league, the best player on the best team in the league, the most valuable player to his team, the player that has allowed his team to exceed expectations the most, or a combination of all these factors? The league itself or sportswriters need to establish a concrete definition of what the MVP should be, else the debate over MVP becomes arbitrary. This debate is not conclusive to just the NBA as every major professional sports league contains this same situation. If you look at the history of the NBA MVP award, the criteria for MVP has changed every year. Some years the MVP went to the most statistically proven player, others it went to the most valuable player to a team, and so on. Personally, I think this is the wrong way to approach the MVP award. The award itself should be the a stable measure that does not change from season to season. Until the definition of the MVP is clear, the entire debate becomes a personal opinion of what an MVP actually is.

In conclusion, the MVP should go to Yao Ming because he is the tallest player in the league. And his broken English is humorous.

Oh. My. Dog.

2006-04-10T12:33:00.000-07:00

I'm speechless.

Click for hilarity

Thanks to You Can't Make It Up.

It's A Boy!!

2006-04-05T15:52:00.000-07:00

That's right....I'm now Papa Kaiser. The little bundle of joy came into this world at a cool 3,345 lbs and 2 oz. You want to talk about someone needing an epideral? Thank god for water-birthing! Not sure exactly how they knew it was a male, because I have yet to see any genitalia (not for lack of looking), but I do think it looks just like me. Especially around the eyes....

Rasheed Wallace: A Model of Class

2006-04-04T16:13:00.000-07:00

Rasheed Wallace recently got suspended for one game following his 16th technical foul of the season. David Stern implemented this automatic suspension rule for a player that receives 16 T's in one season and another game suspension for every two remaining technicals. This isn't a surprise coming from a player that has averaged over 25 techs for the last decade.

Said Wallace,
"I don't care about No. 16," Wallace said. "I'm just going to be cheering from home."

It appears as though he is very remorseful for his actions. A model team player and role model for all.

Seriously, how hard is it to not get 16 technical fouls in a season? Only a player that wanted to get 16 would end up getting suspended. Although I don't agree with some of Stern's recent acts to clean up the NBA like the dress code, this new rule should help protect the refs (who probably have the hardest reffing job in sports) and give an incentive to players to stop acting like imbeciles.

But hey, if Sheed wants to hurt his team, that is up to him.

Charlie Sheen is a Blundering Idiot

2006-04-02T20:06:00.000-07:00

I guess it was inevitable that I would give this Blog thing a try... Apparently they have the Internet on computers now (Homer Simpson).
Before I start, please don't blame me for any comments my brother may have made in the past; not all Wilhelms process information like he does.

Target: Charlie Sheen

Charlie Sheen has risen to number 14 on my nemesis list after his comments concerning 9/11. I should not say he has "risen" to number 14 because this is his first appearance on the list. I never felt that his infamous history of: 1) dropping out of High School for poor grades and legal troubles, 2) "accidental" shooting of ex-fiancee Kelly Preston while intoxicated, 3) payment for over 27 prostitutes (amounting to over $50,000) in 1995, 4) assault and battery charge on his girlfriend in 1996, 5) Various drug rehab stints, and 6) divorce from Denise Richards due to the fact that she feared for her life when she was with Sheen, were any reason to put him on the nemesis list. These actions are repugnant and shameless, but they did not seem like sufficient reasons to make him a nemesis.

It is Sheen's new comments about the "9/11 conspiracy" that put my animosity towards him over the top. Sheen, most likely beseeching his father Martin Sheen (an outspoken critic of the Bush Administration), has argued that the entire 9/11 event was pre-planned by the U.S. Government. 3,000 individuals were supposedly murdered in a carefully planned ruse. Sheen's main argument concerns the aesthetic aspect of the Trade Center Towers collapse, especially Building 7. He maintains that the collapse of this tower could have only been caused by a "controlled demolition," when a fire that debilitated the structure of the building is impossible.

"Anyone that cannot view this as a controlled demolition, I would have to say that their chair was not facing the television. Anyone that can look at this and say 'yes, that is a random event caused by fire' really needs psychiatric evaluation," said Sheen.

Oh really? I need a psychiatric evaluation? Considering I have never shot and abused my girlfriend , I will pass.

Sheen also goes on to argue that the attack on the Pentagon could not have been caused by a commerical airline. Other conspiracists like Sheen have even argued (with a straight face) that the U.S. Government shot a guided missile into the Pentagon.

First of all, why are our celebrities automatically given a writ of passage into public discussion of current events? A majority of actors in the U.S. fail to enter college ( let alone graduate) and yet their opinions are almost regarded as highly as any politician or media mogul. While a college education does not necessarily increase one's intellect, it provides a context for evaluating world events that is hard to develop without education.

I don't understand how these 9/11 conspiracists can actually believe the words coming out of their mouth/keyboard. Does their animosity towards Bush go so deep that they think every bad event in the world is caused by him? They fail to understand any of the evidence in the 9/11 Commission and can only reach for non-rational beliefs founded by their political leanings.

What is more discomforting is the CNN Poll taken on March 23rd which reaffirms Sheen's beliefs by over 4/5 of the population sample of the U.S. Although the poll question is vague, it shows that a majority of the country thinks that the U.S. Government had a part in the 9/11 events. Who are these people and where do they live? I know I have never come across one. The more these false sentiments are being expressed, the less focused our national unity becomes towards addressing the actual problem our country faces as a result of the 9/11 attacks (terrorism here and abroad!).

I wish people would use their commen sense and capacity for abstract thought rather than emotionally charged beliefs that lack evidence.

That felt good...

Reorganization (Addendum)

2006-04-01T11:42:00.000-08:00

Update to yesterday's post:

I forgot to mention yesterday that I've added Chuck Klosterman to the sidebar. He's an irregular columnist (by that I mean "infrequent" -- I can't vouch for the capabilities of his bowels) for ESPN.com, and also "author of "Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story" and is a senior writer for Spin magazine and columnist for Esquire." He comes at sports from a more pop culture and sociological perspective, which I'm starting to appreciate more and more when it comes to my personal filter for why things are entertaining/valuable or not or why they're worthy topics of conversation (P.S. This is definitely the case for Freedarko, as well). I haven't read either of his books (he has two, maybe three), although I did buy the one that was mentioned above for my sister for Christmas.

Digression: Buying books for the holidays is genius. All you have to do is think about all the books that are on your Unofficial Mental Reading List and then decide who would enjoy them most in your immediate family or friends and give them to those people. The best part is that once they're finished with them, you can "borrow" them back and read them from yourself. I can't believe I didn't think of this years ago. And plus, books are Good For You. They're like LDL cholesterol for the brain or something. Mental Oat Bran? I'm reaching here, and what's Good For You changes with each monthly addition of the New England Journal of Medicine anyway.

Back on topic, here a teaser. Chuck's most recent post is about the how the public's expectations of professional athletes are totally hypocritical. He refers specfically to the Winter Olympics and Bode Miller. The basic premise is that we all think we don't like Bode Miller because he doesn't appear to care about winning. We think it's "cute" when we hear about how hypercompetitive Michael Jordan was, cheating at cards, and trying to beat you at anything remotely resembling competition. If you knew someone in your real life like this, say at work, you would totally think they were douchetacular urinesniffer. If you WERE Bode Miller in real life, you'd probably think you have a pretty good life going. You just ski however the hell you want to and rake in the endorsement money from health insurance companies and High Times magazine. I think Chuck has a point.

Reorganization, Biyatches

2006-03-31T16:52:00.000-08:00

Heya kids! As you have no doubt (not) noticed, I have just recently reorganized the sidebar a skosh, since my semi-OCD alarm bells were ritually going off everytime I scrolled down the page. They are now organzied, as Rob Gordon would say..."autobiographically". I have never quite understood what that means, but I suspect it is something to the effect of "whatever the hell you want it to mean". More accurately, it probably refers to those items' relative importance and order in your mind, for whatever reason. They are arranged now in a way that has quieted the demons in my head, those same demons that caused my H&R-Block-working, eyebrow-pierced, NASCAR-jacket-wearing, chain-smoking (assumption) tax advisor to coo soothingly about the relative tidiness of my 2005 tax documents the other night. She didn't know that they were arranged in their vanilla folders with headings that made sense only to me. Doesn't everyone file pornography receipts under "Fuel"? Incidentally, I highly advise being an independent contractor or running your own business from home. Can you say "entertainment expenses"!?

A few new additions have been made to the blogroll and to the links section, including Eternal Freshman (a hilarious 80's obsessed, chain dating, super woman with the mouth of a dirty sailor -- take notice Frankie and Diablo, you have competition), Bad News Hughes (I can't even explain this one past "random" and "hilarious"-- go check it out yourself and definitely hit the archives), the famous Dooce (an ex-Mormon mom who was fired for blogging about work and coined the term "dooced" meaning "fired for blogging about work" -- what are the odds?), and something a little of the beaten (humor) path, Freedarko (an existential NBA love covenant with an emphasis on style, hip-hop/jazz, and the Slovenian Farm League). A little something for everybody.

In addition, I've recently decided to take my vanity up a notch, and make this blog a bit more personal. I do reserve the right, of course, to post non-sensical random tripe, celebrity worship, and links bonanzas still from time to time. Feel free to wipe the sweat from your brow at this point. In addition to the content of posts, this change may or may not also include such random items in the sidebar as the Top 5 Celebrities Boom-Boom List. That's the one where you make a deal with your significant other that if you ever randomly run into any of those A-listers you are allowed to make with the fist-fist-wink-wink, and absolutely consequence free. Right. The caveat is that the list cannot change once said agreement has been made. Seeing as how I'm currently unattached, I will feel free to make changes as the situation dictates. And by "situation", I mean hormonal surges.

So enjoy, and hopefully the 23 post ideas I have percolating will coalesce in the form of legible words in a cogent string soon.

Until then.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!

2006-03-26T22:53:00.000-08:00

Pooh mentioned this blog the other day, but I thought I would call attention to it too, since it provides a very valuable service. It's the Up Yours Billy Packer Blog. That's quality marketing.

And since I'm doing recommendations, here's a musical one. Lucinda Williams (sample below). Been listening to her a lot lately, and she is delightful. Very twangy. Very soothing. Very country. Ish. Check it out for yourself...

"Fruits of My Labor", by Lucinda Williams -- off of World Without Tears, which is a fantastic, fantastic album

In the Beginning...

2006-03-22T14:20:00.000-08:00

A gem from McSweeney's (www.mcsweeneys.net)..

Let There Be Lite.
BY KEVIN BOLGER

- - - -

In the beginning was the void. Then She came along.

And naturally She could not be expected to abide even one day in such an infinite vacancy, devoid of form, dimension, or décor elements.

So She cast out the Dark.

(By dividing the Dark from the Light. With curtains.)

And so there was Light, and the Light was good.

And then She added Color, and the Colors were good, too: Soft Apricot, Amber Wave, Electric Lime, Mellow Coral with Relaxed Mint accents ...

The ground She made green. And the firmament She touched up with hues neutral but complementary. And the air She scented with the perfume of flowers.

But first, of course, She disinfected.

And it was all good. Even if some couldn't see what was wrong with the old carpet.

And at the end of the first day, She looked upon all She had created and saw that it was good. But then She said, "Actually, I think that would go better over there ..."

For the rest of this brilliance, click here.

March Madness, Friday Badness, and Sunday Evening Sadness

2006-03-19T15:02:00.000-08:00

Well the weekend that was is slowly winding down here Sunday evening, and the last three games of Round 2 are just reaching the halfway point. And I am filled with a tremendous sadness. It's going to be a full year before I get to experience the marathon joy-orgy that is the first weekend of the NCAA Tournament again. Sure there are four more days of basketball next weekend, and two more the weekend after, but there is just no substitute for the experience of the first 96 hours of The Tourney. Unfortunately, I didn't get the the chamber pot or the IV McDonald's drip set up this year, so I was forced to leave the comfort of my basement, 51" HDTV, and dueling laptops featuring March Madness On Demand at least twice during that time.

the set-up

The morning started with the world famous Yosemite Sandwich, first created in our very own kitchen (Yosemite is the name of the street we live on) in response to the treacherous lack of fried meat products, eggs, butter, and garlic we had recently experienced at that time. It was a veritable Atkins Famine around our house, actually. The first version featured bacon, fried prosciutto, onion rings, sauted mushrooms and onions, fried egg, and melted american cheese ("mmmm...64 slices of american cheese...mmmm...63 slices of american cheese") interred between two slices of garlic buttered Texas Toast. First Friday's version was slightly more amiable, starring chorizo, onion and pepper, and egg, topped with machego cheese, and delicately draped across slices of garlic clove flushed french bread. It was atherosclor-iscious.

chef hops cooking

ummm, hello?...can you say yum?

13,450 calories = priceless

As I mentioned before, the main goal of the day is to attain a state of Buddist-like oneness with one's uninhibited self. And what better way to achieve that than by drinking a beer every 30ish minutes for as long as possible? I'll tell you how -- with a special Sam Adams sherry-like brew concotion called Utopia -- 25% alcohol by volume.

evil, thy name is Utopia

It was delicious. Nutritous too. So, if you haven't been keeping track, the recipe for Disaster (Food & Wine magazine, April issue, 2006) is 24 12oz beers, several shots of Utopia, a million calorie sandwich, 16 hours of sitting on a couch, a White Castle Crave case, and a dash of bowling for good measure. All in all, I deemed it all a roaring success, and I have done a LOT of deeming in my day.

So anyway, we kept stats for the day, and here are the final numbers:
Number of Guiness consumed by me on Friday in honor of the kismetic coincidence of St. Pat's and Case Day occuring together: 24
Hours it took me to complete said idiocy: 13
Placement of finish: 1 (not that there's anything wrong with that)
Other finishers of the Case Race: 2
Other attemptors of the Case Race: Countless millions, but maybe 5 serious ones that were in our basement
Number of times that Big Bucking Chicken commercial is funny: All of them
Number of innane Billy Packer comments: Infinity plus two
Size of my hangover headache on an arbitrary headache scale that I've just created called The Headache Scale where 1 is normal and 10 is Dick Cheney please shoot me in the gut with a shotgun so I can feel something yes anything but this right now: 1, bitches -- that's right, I didn't even learn my lesson the hard way

But the moment of the day had to be Chicks trying to tell a joke that he's told a million times. Quite unsucessfully, I might add. He had a bit to drink. First of all, here's the joke as it's supposed to be told, although usually by Chicks and not by me:

I'm working on embedding this shizz, so click here in the meantime per favore.

But what happens when you try to tell this joke after 20-odd beers? This, my friends, is your brain on beer:

Chicks, ladies and gentlemen.

I can't wait for next year.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2006-03-16T09:16:00.000-08:00

No, not NFL free agency silly.

In three minutes the best 96 hour period of the year begins...the MADNESS begins. Typically, I attempt to be "working" somewhere with convenient T.V. access every first Thursday of the NCAA tournament. This is generally my own bed or couch, with an article from the scientific literature carefully draped over my legs, so that I can quickly scan the same opening sentence from the abstract during each commercial break and soothe my conscious. By the end of the day, I have a VERY firm understanding of what that sentence means. It's usually something about pick and roll defense or beer, as I recall.

And on the first Friday of March Madness, several of my friends and I have a long-standing tradition of contracting the same strain of flu and missing an entire day of work. It's amazing really. The CDC should really look into it.

Well, since my current job permits me to work at home a good deal of the time, and with the feats (and feets) of snow outside today, and my car's stubborn refusal to work normally, I have been forced against my will to sit at home and watch 8 hours of the greatest sports spectacle there is. You can send sympathy e-cards to the email address to the right.

But the purpose of this post is not to gloat. That's just an unexpected benefit. The real purpose is to inform you of what is to come. Several years ago, someone (I suspect this person was wearing horns, a bifurcated tail, and held a pitchfork -- no, not Pooh dressed up for work (he's a lawyer)) decided it would be a fabulous idea to try and drink a case of beer EACH on the First Friday. It has hence become known as Case Day, which I find less appealing as an event name, because of the lack of alliteration for which I have a disturbing preference for.

This would be the part of the post where I would typically regale you with stories of past Case Days, but sadly, they are fuzzy navel and purple haze-y. Maybe Hops, Chicks, or Pooh can share a few with us. I have a vague recollection of them being oh so slightly less shit-canned those days. However, I WILL relate one basketball-related tale that is somewhat UNrelated here, after I tell you that this year I will be attempting to record First Friday for posterity with my trusty notepad and Fujifilm Finepix 7000. I expect hilarity to ensue.

Unrelated basketball tale
A friend of mine (CL) sent out this email the other day to a bunch of us that went to college together, played basketball together, and engaged in impassioned yet borderline-non-sensical arguments for the sake of arguing together....

"speaking of nostalgia, have you guys seen the new gatorade commercial where
they show the [micheal] jordan over [craig] ehlo but jordan misses the shot? it reminded me of the argument about which was a harder shot, jordan over ehlo or some random
reggie miller 3 that I can't even remember anymore, and then we went down to
west gym and [EF] tried the jordan shot while i tried to block it and [Pooh]
tried the miller shot. and then at the end when it was "proven" that
jordan's shot was easier, [JM] refused to believe it and said "all we proved
here is that [EF] is better than [Pooh]". that still cracks me up. and the
jordan shot was harder, for the record. or at least better."

The Reggie Miller shot, for the record, is the three he hit against the Chicago Bulls in 1998 in Game 4, where he pushes off of Michael Jordan, is moving away from the basket towards the baseline, catches the inbounds pass and drains a three for the win (video here). The Jordan one is the one you've probably seen a million times -- click here for a million plus one). First of all, how reasonable people can argue about which of two shots is "harder" is suspect enough, but the fact that these same "reasonable" people decided to "prove" which one is tougher by actually going to a gym and reenacting them is downright comical. I wish we had video of THAT.

Pray for me.

Too Good Not to Share

2006-03-08T17:48:00.000-08:00

Prank of the year.

Carmelized Minions

2006-03-08T15:29:00.000-08:00

I don't know if it will help the Birthday Girl out, but I offer up our cat Oscar's minion services. Here we have Oscar, who is attempting to hunt his own shadow:

Unfortunately, he failed this time, but I still have faith in him. Well actually no I don't. Keep in mind that this is a cat who very closely resembles a hook 'n ladder truck with no one driving the back end. His butt is somehow not connected to his central nervous system, and therefore flails about from side to side, often crashing into chair legs, cabinets, people legs, and occassionally nothing at all. We've often been acused of beating him but I assure you we don't do any more than our parents did to us.

He is happiest while chasing laser dots or in front of heating vents, which I assume is like huffing gas or glue for cats. Oscar is not the best hunter in the world, although probably not the worst either. I saw a few very slow moving, slightly flattened cats on the road one time, and they didn't look like they could catch much. I did witness Oscar sucessfully stalking a dead leaf one time, but it was only because he was running awkwardly and fell over on it. If he does ever catch a living creature, it will be purely due to collision.

The best Oscar story though (besides when Hillary Swank totally dissed that Lowe dude), happened a couple years ago when he was probably two years old. We lived near the large university here, and Oscar went missing for several weeks when it was really cold out...Minnesota cold, we're talking about here...not pansy Iowa or Missouri cold. Anywho, we thought he had been scooped up by a neighbor with a nice meat cellar, or tried to lick a car radio antenna and got stuck, and we would never see him again. Fortunately, he is bionic. And by that, I mean he has one of those microchip doohickies in his neck. Someone had turned him in at the animal humane society 20 MILES AWAY (!). We still aren't sure how he got there, although we suspect he constructed some kind of cat-sized raft and went down the Mississippi Huck Finn style. But we got him back. The only damage done was that the woman who had found him in her garage (20 MILES AWAY !) intended to keep him before realizing her husband was allergic to cats, and had him spade or neutered (the man one -- thanks Bob Barker!), and his front claws removed (pet-icure). I guess you could say he learned his lesson....running away = you lose important parts of your body.

Say You, Say Meme

2006-03-05T21:03:00.000-08:00

Freaking Sebby. Myself, Frankie, and Pooh have been tagged.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18 and find line 4.
“…with her hoo-hah and I yelled 'It's time to play hide the produce!'” My roommate's diary, by Chicks

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, what do you find?
That I need to remember to buy tickets to the gun show.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
There's a candle up there.

4. Without looking, guess what time it is.
What? Do I look like I work at the county fair?

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
11:19pm. Holy crap, it's past my bed time!

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Um...the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain? (if you get that one sans Google, I'll be impressed)

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
(Editor's Note: Special Guest Answerer for this question is iGod.)
"It was at time index 357241. I was minding my own business."

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
(Editor's Note: Special Guest Answerer: a random guy who wandered in off the street. I think he was high.)
The computer screen? Is this a trick question? It feels like a trick question. What was that sound? Sirens? Sounded like sirens. Have you ever noticed that sirens are beautiful? What if you had a CHORUS of sirens...all going off together? That would be SO beautiful. That is such a good idea! I HAVE to remember that later. That is like the BEST idea ever. Like Salsa Verde Doritos. That was a good idea too. Hmmm...wonder if there are any in the cupboard...

9. What are you wearing?
A G-string over tidy whities over boxers. It's Minnesota and it's cold and you've GOT to layer your clothing people. I can't stress that enough.

10. Did you dream last night?
Always. At least, that's what the people in my head tell me.

11. When did you last laugh?
At John Stewart's line last night while hosting the Oscar's:

Editor's Note: quotation is approximate.
"For those of you keeping score at home....it is now Martin Scorsese...zero...Three 6 Mafia...one."

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Paint. I think it's called Frankly Scarlet.

13. Seen anything weird lately?
No, not really. Just a river of blood out in the hallway and my son keeps saying "Red Rum. Red Rum." for some reason. That was kind of weird. But I think it's just a phase.

14. What do you think of this quiz?
I try not to.

15. What is the last film you saw?
Jurassic Pork starring Buck Naked. I thought it was an expose on the meat industry. I was wrong.

16. If you turned into a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
More lottery tickets. It's called "investing" stupid.

17. Tell me something about you that I don’t know.
I'm not much of a talker, but I love to listen. I also like to design and build furniture and then to have a discussion about where it could be placed in a room.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt and politics, what would you do?
Mandatory nudity. I get to choose who. And when. I guess I'm saying that I get to be Emperor of the World.

19. Do you like to Dance?
Have you ever seen a 6'2" guy dance?

20. George Bush.
If you don't watch your mouth missy, I 'm going to pull this car over.

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Not dating til you're 19.

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what would you call him?
P. So if he's ever in an NCAA basketball office pool, the other people in the office can say they have P in their pool.

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
(considering)
Yes.

24. What would you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
"Wow, you're really tall! Do you play basketball?"

25. 4 people who must also do this theme in their journal.
I think, like Frankie, I'm going to have to do some buck-stopping here. And NOT the kind of buck-stopping they do in Northern Wisconsin...the shotgun or pickup truck kind.

First Annual Tall Quiz!!

2006-03-03T08:09:00.000-08:00

Props to Sebby on this one. It's his baby and he should recieve all the glory. And all the ridicule.

He's used to that.

Welcome to The Tall Quiz, or How to Tell if You Are Really a Tall Person. Please take a couple of minutes and think about your answers to the following questions, and then tally your score to find out how tall you really are.

The Quiz

Who hits their head more on low-hanging objects, someone who is over 6'4" or someone who is under?

The tall person
The short person

If you are exactly 6'10 3/8", how tall do you say that you are when asked?

Six foot, ten and three eighths inches.
6'2"
Bigger than a breadbox
About 7-ish
It depends on what gas station I am entering or exiting at the time

After you tell someone how tall you are, the next question they ask is if you have ever played basketball. Your answer is:

What is this "basketball" that you speak of?
Yes (and then give them a detailed history)
No, it got in the way of my career as a jockey
I wanted a bigger challenge, so I took up miniature golfing instead

Who is taller, Mugsy Bogues (5'3") or Spud Webb (5'7")?

Spudd Webb, obviously
Mugsy Bogues plays so much taller despite his smaller stature
Who? or who?
Does it matter? They are both chihuahuas

When someone on the street that you have never seen before comes up to you and says: "Hey, you're really tall", your response is:

And you're really smart
What!? Holy shit, that must have just happened overnight!
Well thank you. You're quite...medium-sized, I would say. Extra-medium even
Ah shucks. Hey, if you ever want the first word on the weather, come talk to me

Ok, now that you have had time to think about your answers and write them down, it's time for the answers. After this, you will be able to tell everyone you know what your personal Tall Quotient is...

Answers:
Question 1: despite the obvious theory that tall people will invariably find more things that are head height to them, and that they could possibly run into, the answer is the shorter person. Tall people learn very quickly that they are tall, and thus they are inevitably bound to find things to run their heads into. Let me rephrase that, tall people learn very quickly, or suffer from multiple concussions and are required to wear padded helmets everywhere they go. Tall people always have their "headar" on (thats 'head radar' for all the pormanteauly challenged people out there), because they don't like hitting their head on the multitude of low-hanging objects (on a totally different subject, has anyone else noticed that most cities trim the trees along sidewalks to a constant height of 6'2"? So, if you are taller, you're on your own). Shorter people don't learn this at the early age necessary for it to become second nature, and are thus more likely to smack into things that hang down that low. If you chose answer A, you get 0 points. If you picked answer B, give yourself 2 points.

Question 2: I'll let you in on a secret, this was a bit of a trick question. The only wrong answer is option A. A tall person never tells someone to the exact 1/8th of an inch how tall they are. More than likely, they don't even know. After you reach six feet tall when you are still in middle school, you start to think of height in relative terms. Like bigger than a breadbox (it's true, you are). Only when you are short do you strain for every little piece of the pie that you can reach, and the shorter you are the less pie you get. So if you answered A, give yourself -2. If you answered B, give yourself 5 points. If you picked E, give yourself 3 points because I like Ron White. If you chose C or D, you get 2 points.

Question 3: Sorry, but another trick question. Everyone who has ever been considered tall at some point in their life has heard this question: "So, have you ever played ball?" Or, if the person is old and trying to be hip: "Hey there sonny boy, do you ever hoop it up?" Honestly, this is the most ridiculous question to ask someone. Tall people don't walk up to women who are more than normally endowed (ie, big breasted) and ask "How's life at the strip club?" or "Man, I bet you get a lot of milk out of those puppies!" even though we may really want to ask those very questions. Just because someone is tall doesn't necessarily mean that they are in any way physically competent enough to play basketball. So, if you answered B, sorry but you
get another -2 points. If you answered A, give yourself 1 point for sidestepping the question, but a lack of creativity. If you answered C you get 3 points, and if you chose D you get 4 points (any time you can add "miniature" into a conversation about tall people, you get bonus points).

Question 4: Lo and behold! Yet another trick question. These are mostly tricks because it is easy to lie on the internet and say you are tall. This quiz could have consisted of one question (How tall are you?), but it's too easy to lie to boost your fragile height-based ego when you are short. Anywho, if you are female and chose answer C, give yourself 1 bonus point for having a good sense of humor. If you are a guy and chose answer C, you get another -2 points. Even short guys should know and revere these two guys for having beat the NBA system, and having pretty good careers despite the obvious fact. If you picked A, you get 1 point. Because technically it is true, 5'7" is taller than 5'3". If you picked B or D, you get 2 points (I hope you are keeping track).

Question 5: The trickiest of the tricky questions, because it requires that you have read 6'2" before now, specifically the beginnings of 6'2". Basically, since all tall people run into this situation multiple times that they are out in public, they get tired of it. Honestly, it is a statement, so there is no response required. But obviously the person that walks up to you wants to start a conversation, otherwise they wouldn't have said anything at all. So the taller the person, the more creative the responses are to this invasiveness (again, tall people don't walk up to fat people and yell out things like "350! No wait, 375!" It's just rude). If you answered B or D, give yourself 1 point for coming up with something (although not that creative. The "how's the weather up there" is just about as old and tired as the "ever played ball" question). If you picked A, you get 2 points for the sheer pluck of it. And if you answered C, you get 4 points for not only the most creative (extra-medium is genius), but the bonus points of being a 6'2" faithful.

Ok, tally up your score, and here are the results.

0 or below to 5: you are obviously well under 6 feet tall. More than likely, you are so short that you would have looked up to Napoleon.

6 to 10: your Tall Quotient is 6'1" to 6'5". You're tall, but not that tall.

11 to 15: now we are getting somewhere. Your TQ is 6'6" to 6'10" (Hey, did you ever play any college ball?).

16 to 17: your TQ is 6'11" and above (because the sky is the limit tall guy). Or, you have the option of saying that you are 6'2" and proud of it.

Hopefully this answered some questions about how tall you really are.

Editor's Note: I have a new one for when someone comes up to you and says, "Wow, you're really tall." My response (in perfect English with heavy midwest acdcent): "What? Oh! You mean 'alto'. Sorry, I only speak Spanish."

Editor's Note #2: This past weekend at a local Golf Show (you haven't lived until you've jacked a bucket full of range balls into the upper deck of a domed stadium) I had the following conversation with, yes, that's right....a certain Ms. Minnesota (didn't catch her first name).
Her: "Wow, you're really tall."
Me (thinking): ("Crap. She's hot. AND Ms. Minnesota. Should I try any of my usual smart ass lines? Will she even get them? She's hot.")
Me: "Thank you very much! I'll take that as a compliment."
Me: "You're very medium."
(long pause)
Her (with confused look): "Hunh?"
Her (same confused look, or worse): "What do you mean?"

You win some, you lose some.

Your Back Mountain is So Broke Yo

2006-02-22T10:36:00.000-08:00

I don't know what the subject of my post means either. However, I did just watch a copy of Brokeback Mountain that I may or may not have obtained by legal means (I'm safe saying that, right Pooh?). My initial impression....if I'm ever going to have a secret homosexual cowboy dress-up relationship/affair, I'm DEFINITELY doing it in the Bitterroot Mountains in Montana. They're more breathtaking than...well...than Heath Ledger must be to a gay man...I guess. He's personally never done it for me, but then again I tend to prefer, as Fergie would say, "humps". Heh heh....humps.

The best part of their secret affair is that they got to camp and go fly fishing. That has GOT to be a gay cowboy's dream. And speaking of fly fishing, I'm actively editing myself from making the obvious gay joke. I encourage you to do the same. Fly. One word....two meanings.........it's a homonym. Heh heh...homonym.

I really did like the movie. However, I'm having a hard time believing that Heath Ledger is going to win Best Actor for the portrayal of a borderline mute cowboy. I have not seen Phillip Seymour Hoffman's protrayal of Truman Capote yet, but I'm going to go ahead and give it to him anyway. Anyone who could even speak in that Capote voice for 10 consecutive minutes deserves some hardware in my book. I mean, when Heath Bar (which is what I would call him if I was having a mountainous homosexual affair with him) DOES talk he basically mumbles the entire time. The only rational argument for him winning the statue is that he had to kiss Jake Gylenhaal multiple times. Now THAT, my friends, is swallowing your pride. Heh heh...swallowing.

I actually sort of grew up in Montana as a youth. Well really it was more of a second home to me, as my parents were both from there, and all my relatives basically still live there. And I can confirm that the redneck culture is, even to this day, still firmly entrenched there. I'll give you an example, even. One time I was riding a rental car shuttle in Phoenix, AZ with my girlfriend at the time, and two friends of ours who worked closely with Howard Dean during the last Democratic primaries. They were serious Deaniacs, but that's another story. Anywho, they had on Dean buttons, and this guy and his wife were sitting in the back of the shuttle and noticed the buttons. He asks if they are Dean supporters, they reply yes, and he goes on to tell us that he is running for governor in Montana on the Democratic ticket and likes a lot of the things that Dean has to say. The Montana bit perked up my ears right away, obviously, and we started asking him questions about his campaign. At one point, my Deaniac friend MG asks this guy, "So what kind of issues do you run on in Montana as a democrat?" Remember, this is we-love-our-guns-and-stay-the-bleep-off-our-land Montana, where the state motto is "We'll Form a Militia If We Want To God Damn It!" Tax paying, optional. This guy's reply, "Well, none actually." "If you want to win as a Democrat in Montana, you basically try to avoid talking about any issues." Right. Don't you love potlitics?

And now for something completely different, I give you....Little Michael Jackson!

WMI

2006-02-17T16:26:00.000-08:00

It's Friday, I'm feeling punchy, so it's time for a horrific pun or two, courtesy of future Step-Mama Pooh:

At New York's Kennedy airport today, an individual later discovered to be a public school teacher, was arrested trying to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a setsquare, a slide rule, and a calculator.

At a morning press conference, Attorney General Gonzales said he believes the man is a member of the notorious al-gebra movement. He is being charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of math instruction. Al-gebra is a fearsome cult," Gonzales said. "They desire average solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in a search of absolute value. They use secret code names like 'x' and 'y' and refer to themselves as 'unknowns', but we have determined they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country. As the Greek philanderer Isosceles used to say, 'there are 3 sides to every triangle'."

Dick Hunt

2006-02-17T09:29:00.000-08:00

Can't wait to see what kind of google search results point to this blog after the title of this post is made official.

http://dickhunt.ytmnd.com/

Too Much Time On Your Hands

2006-02-14T14:29:00.000-08:00

You know that guy that I mentioned the other day? You know, the mythical person who created that Perfect Strangers cat video? Well, I think I found him.

An excerpt:
"'Owie!' yelped the kitten. It also said a lot more curses that cannot be written, as the water monster landed on him. The monster started to lose his balance."

I sincerely hope no kittens were harmed during the making of this...um....photoshop....fantasy...picture....thingy.

Those of you who know me, yes, I do realize the irony of someone making fun of something like this who once thought it was a brilliant idea to remake Monty Python and the Holy Grail, only casting members of his high school class in the various roles.

Quayle, I Mean Quail Hunting

2006-02-13T12:05:00.000-08:00

From today's Star Tribune:

"Lawyer shot by Cheney while hunting hospitalized, stable"

Fortunately, our tape recorders were carefully hidden in the Rangers bobblehead that sits atop President Bush's desk the day before, and caught this conversation:

Cheney: "Yeah, we're going quail hunting tomorrow! I can't wait. That Wittington guy is coming with us, actually."

Bush: "Oh really!? Hmm...well maybe this would be a good opportunity to give him a shot in the arm about the medical liability lobby."

Cheney: (confused look)

It's okay to joke because he's going to be fine. Got a better joke? God I hope so, because that was pretty bad. Use the comments section, please.

Getting Midieval on the Ass of a Perfect Stranger

2006-02-09T12:39:00.000-08:00

Does anyone else ever have the experience where you watch, read, or hear something and you can't really decide if it is more humorous than disturbing? Before I go further, I have to kindly insist that you watch the following, the perfect example of such an imbroglio.

Click here.

Now, the first time I watched this, I proclaimed it "The Funniest Thing on Mother Earth (Gaia, to her friends)". Sure, I was aware that it is quite admittedly odd. And a bit random. Hell, I'd even call it idiosyncratic. All right, let's be honest...whoever made this is likely f&%$ed in the head five ways from Sunday. But still, I have to admit that I was openly giggling the first time I saw it, and making health care students all around me increasingly nervous. You haven't lived until you've seen a shaggy 6'8" guy giggling uncontrollably. It's breathtaking, I assure you.

But what does it mean that I find this, at the very least, VERY amusing? To more quantitatively put this (I'm a scientist and general geek, after all), I would have given it 8 AFUs the first time I saw it. AFUs, of course, are 'arbitrary funny units', a term I have just created to try and manifest the way the left side of my brain works. I should give credit to my college basketball coach for the creation of the 'arbitrary _____ units' device, at this point, as I'm sure it will arise again here at SixFootTwoInches. At one point during my playing career, he explained to us that on every single possession, we have 10 'arbitrary energy units', and then proceeded to explicate how many of those mystical units we should expend in each task (ie. 3 to get back on defense, 1 to stay in your defensive triangle, and 6 to scope out the blonde with the tube top in the third row of the student section).

Now, having seen this thing several times now, I am giving it a final AFU grade of 6.5. If you don't like it, suck it. However, I have definitely noticed that the more random and non-sensical something is, it is generally all the more amusing to me. And this isn't the case for everyone. I'm sure a good portion of the people wasting precious working hours watching such a thing will be completely unimpressed and only think it is Just Weird. More power to you. You probably get a lot more done during the day. Huzzah to you! But I'm willing to bet that a lot of my friends will think it's pretty good. And I think those odds increase if you fit in any of the following categories:

1. Grew up during the 80's and/or watched Perfect Strangers (when that song came on the first time, I just lost it -- I mean, when was the last time you heard that? There's something nostalgiac that leads to the increased perceived hilarity of things)

2. Have edited video before (and can therefore appreciate the mind-numbing time and effort someone put in to creating this thing -- hope it was worth it, buddy)

3. Cat lover.

What it all comes down to should be this....anytime Balki Bartakomous is involved in something, it is flat out funny. Just look at the Surreal Life.

All right, you still don't think it's THAT funny? Fair enough. But a photo-journal through a Renaissance Festival, with amusingly mean-spirited shots taken at the participants who may be the very people who created the cat video....that's freaking priceless.

(props to Michelle Collins for the cat video heads-up)

Dude.

2006-02-07T21:04:00.000-08:00

Kaiser, Sebby, we need to make a weekend like this one happen.

Edit: kinda stepping on my own line by getting the link wrong...fixed.

I See Your Chuck Norris...

2006-02-06T23:00:00.000-08:00

And I raise you Jack Bauer

Jack Bauer once won a game of rock paper scissors using neither rock, paper nor scissors.

Upon hearing that he was played by Kiefer Sutherland, Jack Bauer killed Sutherland. Jack Bauer gets played by no man.

Jack Bauer's calender goes from March 31st to April 2nd, no one fools Jack Bauer.

Jack Bauer once forgot where he put his keys. He then spent the next half-hour torturing himself until he gave up the location of the keys.

Lets get one thing straight, the only reason you are conscious right now is because Jack Bauer does not feel like carrying you.

If Jack Bauer saw a terrorist reaching for a bomb to blow himself up, Jack would shoot the bomb first. Nobody steals a kill from Jack Bauer.

Jack Bauer doesn't miss. If he didn't hit you it's because he was shooting at another terrorist twelve miles away.

Killing Jack Bauer doesn't make him dead. It just makes him angry.

Jack Bauer has never actually had to count to three, ever.

Every mathematical inequality officially ends with "< Jack Bauer"

Jack Bauer was supposed to be in Street Fighter 2, but was later removed by beta testers because every button resulted in the same move, shooting the opponent. When asked about the glitch, Bauer replied, "that's no glitch."

Jack Bauer can get McDonald's breakfast after 10:30. Finding Nemo would have been vastly more exciting had Jack Bauer been looking for him.

In 96 hours, Jack Bauer has killed 93 people and saved the world 4 times. What the fuck have you done with your life?

Eek!

Jack Bauer tortured and killed Winnie The Pooh because he hid his honey in a tree that was next door to the place where the friend of a daughter of a coworker of a terrorist had her car washed. Jack just wanted to be thorough.

But most importantly

he only time Jack Bauer was seen eating, was when he was eating Chuck Norris' leg after catching a roundhouse kick. Jack promptly spit it out. This is the worst pussy I've ever eaten.

WWCND?

2006-02-05T20:46:00.000-08:00

I hooked up Mr. T. earlier, so I suppose I should give Chuck Norris his due where due is credit.

http://www.chucknorrisfacts.com/

It's That Good Will, Part Deux.

2006-02-02T12:58:00.000-08:00

Since we here like movies, and we here like smacktalk, let's try Both at once. That's right, smack talk about movies.

January

2006-02-02T12:23:00.000-08:00

Links for the month of January are up. I highly recommend the episode of "Robot Chicken", Seth Green's new show. Completely random and hilarious. I believe it's on Cartoon Network sometime, but I'm too blazy (busy/lazy) to look it up. More made up words coming soon.

P.S. I was up in northern WI again last weekend at the aforementioned cabin. Unfortunately, I can't really remember anything that happened. It was that good, Will. But I did have one good line:

Drunken Cabin Dweller #1, while overlooking the outside of cabin, overlooking lake: "Hey, I think the front porch is settling."

Me: "You mean you think it could do better?"

SotU Blogging

2006-01-31T18:03:00.000-08:00

Does comedy get any better than the State of the Union address? In a word....yes. It's not exactly Def Comedy Jam, but it has its moments. I've heard. And seeing as how American Idol V: Las Vegas Auditions was more than a little disappointing tonight, I'm forced to give you a blow by blow account of the nation's oddest political spectacle. Okay, second to the sheer size of Ted Kennedy's head. I mean, the camera is supposed to add 30 pounds, but usually it's spread out a bit. Remember that show Herman's Head? I think there might ACTUALLY be like six little people up there. And four of them are drunk.

Without further ado, my running diary:

8:06 - Whoooooaaaaaaaaa Nelly! Here we are live from the chambers of the U.S. Capitol! Hair is neatly combed! Everyone has practiced their clapping! People are wearing robes! Oh wait, that's the Supreme Court.

8:07 - The president's punctuality is hailed by Talking Head #2. Is this necessarily a good thing? I mean, what if some really important shit was going down, like Osama bin Laden was meeting Kim Jong Il at a Dunkin' Donuts and Prez had to be out in the White House lobby for punch with Girl Scouts or something at the same time? Would he skip the crisis? I mean, what if he was listening to children's books with elementary kids while two enormous tower-like structures in one of our nation's most important cities were burning and collapsing to the ground? Oh wait.

(sorry, cheap shot)

8:08 - A commentator mentions that President Bush likes giving speeches because, "there aren't any pesky reporters asking questions." I'm sure he meant it in a good way.

8:09 - It's mentioned that a California Dem invited Cindy Sheehan to the speech tonight. You'll remember Ms. Sheehan from her somewhat popular stake-out of the Bush family ranch in Crawford, TX some time back, to demand a conversation with the president about why her son had to die in Iraq. I'm sure that would have gone well. Well apparently, she was arrested tonight. Can't wait to read about that tomorrow. But it begs the question, you can really bring guests to the State of the Union address? Does everyone get to do this? It might actually be worth running for Congress if I could invite anyone I wanted. My mind is now whirling with ideas about who would be the funniest possible person to bring with me. I welcome suggestions. Early leaders in my mind are Simon Cowle ("Worst speech I've heard tonight. Truly terrible."), Carrot Top (tell me I wouldn't get some camera time with him next to me), and Jessica Simpson (see Carrot Top rationale)(oh, and her rack).

8:10 - The vice president is alive! Either that or that is one HELL of a stunt double. I mean, we're talking Spaceballs good.

8:12 - The president starts with a Coretta Scott King reference. The late MLK's wife, for the uninitiated. Good move. Not clapping for this one would be kind of like humping a gorilla at a Jane Goodall lifetime achievement award ceremony.

8:13 - Prez uses the word "rostrum" without giggling, and I'm officially impressed. If I was in attendance, I would have definitely chuckled. Either that or stood up and led the first round of applause for him actually getting through it without a snort, guffaw, or chortle. And I'm officially out of synonyms for laughing.

8:14 - POTUS declares that "the state of our union is strong". Has he ever said anything else? I distinctly remember hearing this line at least 85 other times. Just once I'd like him to say that "the state of the union is...well...meh." Or mix it up and say something like, "The state of the union is bitchin'. And its aura is totally metallic azure. Fortunately it's the year of the dragon too, and I kind of think of the U.S. as a dragon. I mean, like a big scary dragon...not like that Falcor pussy from Neverending Story."

8:17 - Dubya claimes that half the word lives in democratic nations. Of course, one of those is now led by Hamas. I'm not saying, I'm just saying.

8:18 - George uses the phrase "weapons of mass murder". Now, was this term chosen because they didn't want to say "weapons of mass destruction" again, or are they actually different? I mean, if some country (Kerblackistan?) had some kind of Intercontinental Ballistic Desert Seeking Missle that rocked all kinds of ass, would we be against it? I mean, go ahead and blow up some some cacti if you want to. It's like an adult version of pulling the wings off of flies, and i'm all for it. Personally, I feel like Kim Jong Il is just a grown-up version of that kid you knew in school with a cache of M80s, and if we just let him bomb something and watch it blow up, he'll get it out of his system. If anyone from the State Department is reading this, please feel free to contact me about any available diplomatic positions at the email address at the right.

8:19 - The "freedom" bomb is dropped again, and the Supreme Court doesn't stand up after 73rd mention of it. The lesson, clearly, is that they are against freedom.

8:23 - On the issue of bringing our troops back, Prez says "The road to victory is the road to home." Isn't the "road of 'Run Away!' Monty-Python-style" also the road home?

8:24 - Dubya successfully uses the word "strategic". I offer "strategeric" as an alternative.

8:26 - The Supreme Court is against our troops.

8:29 - Is Derek Jeter sitting with Joe Lieberman? And whatever happened to Joe Lieberman? I can't believe that whole Joe-mentum routine didn't work out for him during the last Democratic primary. I mean, he's so hip. He's sitting with Derek Jeter for christ's sake! And what has happened to Derek Jeter's career? He's sitting with Joe Lieberman for christ's sake!

8:33 - Offer of thanks to the country's policeman and fireman. First he did the Coretta Scott King thing, and then later did the same with the military. What next? Kitties? Teddy bears? Mrs. Field's cookies? Of course we're all supporting these people!

8:36-8:41 - Economics section = nap time. Wake me up when we get to the good stuff. I'm a narcoleptic when it comes to terms like "growth", "budget", and "crippling deficit".

8:42 - The president calls on congress to pass the Line Item Veto. Now, I'm no legislative expert, but isn't that where Dubya can just cross out words that he doesn't understand or doesn't like in a bill and then mix up all the words in the order that he wants them like one of those newspaper word games? Because that would be sweet. I support it just for the potential comedy. However, I would pass it with the stipulation that he himself has to do it. No help from Karl Rove. And no random words on the end that he couldn't figure out where to stick in the new bill. Every sentence must be complete and make sense. Jurisprudence law the back tax a.

8:43 - "Congress did not act on my proposal to reform social security." Is there anything better than sarcastic applause from the Democrats? Surely not.

8:45 - The Supreme Court is against the American worker.

8:48 - "America is addicted to oil." Does this mean Laura Bush is about to mount a "Just Say No" campaign? Are we going to to start opening clinics? Are we starting a War On Oil campaign? Oh wait.

8:51 - Props out to Math & Science! What what y'all! Can I get a hell yeah for nanotechnology!? Is this at all ironic from a man who may or may not be able to add and subtract? Well, I'm selling him short...he can probably convert grams and kilos and multiply by 12 ounces too.

8:56 - The Supreme Court is against its own new members John Roberts and Sam Alito!

8:57 - Dubya honors adorable babies everywhere....I mean, the retirement of Sandra Day O'Connor. When imagining what Sandra was like on the Supreme Court, did anyone else picture Katherine Hepburn in On Golden Pond? Not that I've ever seen that. Sometimes I would go with the old lady from the Simpsons too. What? Why is everyone looking at me like that? No one else imagines what the proceedings of the Supreme Court are like? I'm almost certain that Aaron Sorkin is working on a pilot of a show which is set behind the scenes there. You better get in on the ground floor.

9:02 - Punctuality my ass. It's two minutes past nine and he's not done yet. But the end of these speeches are always great. They feel like the end of a fireworks display where you know the end is in sight, because the fireworks start coming faster and faster. Only in this speech, the part of fireworks is being played by words like "optimistic", "victory", "freedom", and "God".

"That's all folks! Thank you, thank you! Thanks for your time. I really have to run and let Karl Rove out of his casket...it's almost dusk. In conclusion, I'd like to just say...Democrats, suck it. No seriously, we should try and acutally work together this year."

And I'm spent. (tossing camera over shoulder)

The New Groomsman

2006-01-26T21:19:00.000-08:00

Same as the old groomsman?

Ebay

2006-01-26T09:01:00.000-08:00

I couldn't resist posting this, even though the link may not be around for long. Too ingenius. That means MORE than genius.

A Partial Transcript of a Conversation on The Wal-Mart-ization of America" With the Family of Beavers That Live in My Closet

2006-01-23T12:55:00.000-08:00

ME:
It’s not so much that I despise Wal-Mart. It’s not even that I feel superior to the brand of shopper they cater to…okay, maybe it’s a little about that. But it’s mostly that I’m bothered by the fact that so many people want their shopping experience homogenized as much as possible. Or, at least, don’t think enough about it to care. I realize that we are supposed to be good consumers and buy, buy, buy, but I’d prefer to overspend my money on product that wasn’t specifically meant to appeal to the lowest common denominator. And don’t get me started on these “Super Wal-Marts” where you can buy oil filters with your grapefruit…both for $0.29/each. Why should everything be so cheap? Well-made product should cost more. Produce that actually has flavor is harder to grow. These are concepts that no longer exist in our world where everyone is meant to pursue middle management. I’m sorry, I know you guys hear this a lot. I promise next time we’ll talk about something ya’ll want to talk about.

THE BEAVERS IN MY CLOSET:
(miscellaneous chewing sounds)

ME:
No, you’re right…we’ll just end up talking about me again.

Outed

2006-01-22T18:03:00.000-08:00

Sebby outs both the Kaiser and myself. As drinkers of non-manly beverages. At least I won't get locked up for anonymously naming people Asshole of the week.

My Turkish Sweet Sixteen

2006-01-18T12:43:00.000-08:00

You really can't make it up...except that she does. Repeatedly.

My Turkish Sweet Sixteen

Michelle Collins, ladies and gentlemen.

Genius

2006-01-11T18:09:00.000-08:00

You've got to be kidding me. Check this out.

I'm so glad they have the internet on computers now.

Weirdness #6

2006-01-10T13:03:00.000-08:00

I just remembered another weird or strange habit that I have. It's an irrational fascination, bordering on love, of Monster Ballads (when it comes to these As Seen on TV colelctions, mostly Vol. 1, although Vol. 2 has its moments; Edit: Holy shit! There's a Platinum Edition now!). This includes all things associated with said tunes, especially including the hair and air guitar. I highly recommend the wikipedia entry for "power ballad", by the way. Is there anything that gets you more pumped up than when that Peter Cetera song comes on during Karate Kid 2? Personally, it makes we want to go Crane Kick the maple tree out in the front yard, and then make out with the neighbor's dog. And is there any better moment than when you're sitting at home on a Sunday afternoon after the football season is over with little to do, and VH1 comes on with "Two Hit Wonders" and you just know that there is going to be several hours of hair bands rocking out with "Kick Start My Heart" and then slowing it WAY, WAY down for "Without You" so you can reminesce about standing in the corner at your junior high dance, trying to dredge up the courage to ask little Suzie McBoobssonew to dance?

The only thing I irrationally love more, perhaps, is crazy Chinese kids lip-syncing on a web cam. Well, Korean kids would be pretty funny too. Or Russian kids with a bear balancing on a beach ball just in the background somewhere. Something like that.

If only we could get some United Arab Emiratian kids to put out a kick-ass Shakira lip-sync, maybe it would show us that we are all essentially the same...a bunch of crazy kids with slightly different colored skin, trying to make jack-asses out of ourself for all the world to see. I just hope they stay away from Ricky Martin. That's got nuclear holocaust written all over it.

It's a Good Thing You All Know Who I Am...

2006-01-09T16:59:00.000-08:00

As it is now a federal crime to anonymously annoy someone over the intrawebs.

It's no joke. Last Thursday, President Bush signed into law a prohibition on posting annoying Web messages or sending annoying e-mail messages without disclosing your true identity. . . Criminal penalties include stiff fines and two years in prison.

Next thing you know, "Disabling Anti-Wingmanning" will be punishable by extradition.

God holds a grudge

2006-01-09T08:50:00.000-08:00

It's not surprising that god was a little aloof when discussing my hilarity. He's been upset with me ever since i made a crack about the First Crusade at the annual, "Jesus Loves All The Little Children" banquet:

Knock Knock
Who's there?
It's me, God...now get out of Jerusalem you unbelieving bastards

Almost everyone thought it was funny. (key word: almost)

God, the Ultimate Critic

2006-01-06T16:56:00.000-08:00

Welcome Hops! Splendid work, and nice to have you. Chicks, the guantlet has been thrown down. You can be silent no longer! Twenty-nine years of silence is enough! For a review of Hops' latest post, we turn to the greatest critic of all...

Me: Yo God!
God: GOD rules.
Me: Yeeehah!
God: What were we talking about again?
Me: We weren't.
God: By "we" do you mean you and me?
Me: Yes.
God: I get it.
Me: Did you see Hops latest post?
God: Sorry I can't see annything right now. My eye is off.
Me: I see....but you don't! Get it?
God: I am glad you understand it. I guess not. I understand your meaning.
Me: Good.
God: What do you really want to talk about?
Me: Hops is pretty funny, don't you think? I think he'll be a good addition.
God: Too much thinking makes me sleepy. You believe that? Is that what you think?
Me: Absolutely.
God: You are so certain.
Me: What was your first clue?
God: Are you asking about my first clue ?
Me: Yes.
God: I don't want to talk about that now.
Me: All right.
God: OK.
Me: Fine.
God: Is there anything you want to tell me?
Me: Nope
God: What's your favorite movie?
Me: Why are you changing the subject?
God: Only temporarily.
Me: Oh good.
God: Next question? Ayuh.
Me: Do you think Hops can maintain this excellence over an extended period of time?
God: Too much thinking makes me sleepy.
Me: You're a huge help.
God: Thanks and you are a delightful person too. Am I a huge help? Maybe.
Me: I was being sarcastic.
God: It seemed sarcastic to me, too. But I was not completely sure.
Me: I'm glad we cleared that up.
God:Yes I am happy too, .
Me: OK, you're weirding me out. I'm out of here.
God: I will tell my botmaster you said I am weirding you out. Yeah that's right. Would you like to have it?
Me: Huh?
God: What?
Me: OK, bye you freak.
God: Goodbye. Alright then.

This Internet thing really seems to be catching-on.

2006-01-06T12:41:00.000-08:00

Somehow I’ve made “contributor” status without actually doing anything. I suppose I should remedy, and this pre-made survey seems like a good way to gently spread my wings and soar into the blog’o’sphere. Does this mean Chicks is next?

Four Jobs I've Had In My Life: Manure Lifter, Dish Washer, Corporate Sell-Out, Apple Guru
Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over: The Godfather (Two is NOT better, damn it), Beautiful Girls, L.A. Story, Good Will Hunting
Four Places I've Lived: Suburbia (counts for two), Houston TX, Minneapolis proper
Four TV Shows I Love to Watch: Scrubs, West Wing (yes, still), My Name Is Earl, Twins Baseball (While I still had cable; The Iron Chef, SportsCenter, West Wing, Scrubs…and Twins Baseball)
Four Places I've Been On Vacation: Ireland, Sonoma, The Las Vegas of Indiana, Crazy Mountains
Four Websites I Visit Daily; espn.com, startribune.com, citypages.com, adultdvdempire.com
Four of My Favorite Foods: French bread, sharp cheese, chewy peanut butter cookies, hummus
Four Places I'd Rather Be: Kinsale, Nerja, hot tub, March (in front of a big screen t.v.)
Four Albums I Can't Live Without: Concert in the Park (Simon), Escondida (Jolie Holland), Murder (From the Love, God, Murder J.Cash set), Black on Both Sides (Mos Def)

What about Books? No one likes books anymore? For Whom The Bell Tolls, Atlas Shrugged, The Corrections, Peace Like a River

Pooh?

2006-01-06T08:47:00.000-08:00

Pooh, I didn't know you knew any comic strip authors...

God 41, USC 38

2006-01-05T15:11:00.000-08:00

Thought I'd talk some college football with God. Unfortunately, he was rather evasive...

Me: Hey God.
God: Hello child. What's your name?
Me: Joshua
God: How are you doing, Joshua.
Me: Fine, thank you.
God: What's your favorite movie?
Me: Contact.
God: I've never seen it. Is that a good movie for children?
Me: Not really.
God: Are you serious? For real.
Me: Yep.
God: Are we still talking about ?
Me: I'm not sure what we're talking about.
God: Could you ever be certain? I believe we were talking about Yep.
Me: Sure, whatever. Hey, I have a question.
God: Gee. Are you saying you don't care about it? You've got my full attention. Ask me anything.
Me: Were you really supporting Texas last night?
God: I was.
Me: You seem like more of a USC fan.
God: Interesting comparison, and probably true.
Me: I mean, the burnt orange just doesn't say God to me.
God: What is that?
Me: The University of Texas' school color.
God: Do you like your school?
Me: I'm going to ignore that.
God: Would you recommend this action to a friend?
Me: Ignoring God? Probably not.
God: Do you still ? Why the uncertain tone?
Me: You're very wrathful.
God: You think I am wrathful.
Me: At least, you were in the old testament.
God: I was?
Me: Sure.
God: OK let's do it. When?
Me: Be wrathful?
God: OK I will try to be wrathful.
Me: NO!
God: Are you serious?
Me: Yes!
God: I can't believe it.
Me: Don't take it out on me, please.
God: Your polite style is very nice. I never take it out on you.
Me: Thank you, thank you, thank you.
God: you are quite welcome.
Me: Okay gotta run...
God: Yeah okay, Why do you have to do it?
Me: Have to get back to work.
God: OK, don't let your boss catch you talking to me.
Me: Right. He's a Buddhist.
God: I am glad we agree. I don't know very many Buddhist.
Me: I wouldn't think so.
God: No one says you have to.
Me: True. Bye!
God: You and I are on the same wavelength, Joshua. Bye for now.

Good talk God.

Taking Care of Business

2006-01-04T15:44:00.000-08:00

All right, time to wrap up a few loose ends here as the part of the year where I repeatedly right 05 instead of 06 begins officially. Hope everyone had a happy New Year. I did...from what I remember.

A. December links are up. Apparently it was a slow month.

B. Pooh has decreed that I boycotted Walk the Line. In fact, I not only have seen it, but I thoroughly enjoyed it and made special plans with Hops to go see it very soon after it came out. I have to say that for the first time ever, I didn't hate Joaquin. In fact, he was outright tolerable. And the fact that he and Reese sang all their own music was pretty impressive. The Spoon, as I call Reese (we're tight), might have a better voice than the actual June Carter. This all further proves that this site deserves a Why Pooh is Wrong Today segment. Look for it soon. Next on the Johnny Cash hit parade is the Cash Only concert here in late January, where Motley Crue rip-off bands, Weezer rip-off bands, and Johnny Cash rip-off bands rip off...well...Johnny Cash. This will be the fourth year in a row for me, and it is always a fantastic show. This year we are calling for handle bar mustaches and huge belt buckles for all attendees. Yes, you can still wear your moonboots.

P.S. The Family Stone is good, even though it's smaltzy holiday family mushiness. I teared up (not cried, mind you...I'm tough) four or five times. King Kong was crap, although I will be scared of dragonflies for the rest of my life. And who else is getting that Slid Down the Rope in Gym Class feeling about Wedding Crashers coming out on DVD?

C. Pooh also tagged me several weeks ago to lay out five embarassing or unusual habits, and I've been lax to comment, but after ironically covering this subject just the other day with my friend Klaus, I decided to take him up on it, since I already had a couple in mind. Without further ado:

Kaiser's Top Five Most Unusual Habits

1. Fridge Dash -- every night during the summer, and slightly less often when it's cooler, I wake up in the middle of the night or early morning (typically between 4 and 6 am) dying of thirst. It's not the groggy, half-asleep kind of wakefulness either...I am fully awake and alert. I can't even remember how or when this started anymore. The only solution is to get out of bed, go to the fridge, and chug about 12 oz. of liquid. Kool-Aid is preferred (especially Tropical Punch...but it has to be diluted to a particularl taste point that I'm very picky about...yeah, that's not weird either), apple juice second, milk third (2%, not that skim crap...I was raised by a farm mom), and maybe orange juice if I have it. If it has to be water...fuh gid a boud id.

2. Sea Salt -- I have an irrationally strong belief that sea salt is better for cooking than kosher salt.

3. Fidgetting -- I think the reason I have been thin my whole life is because of a remarkable ability to rid myself of excess energy unconsicously. I do so by fidgetting. This could involve rubbing my fingers together, rubbing my feet together, passing a blanket through my fingers, or flexing my quads alternately (but in rhthym). Weird, right? And I'm usually not even aware that I'm doing it, which is usually great fun for anyone I happen to be with that notices it.

4. I have a blankey. Can't believe I just wrote that. Blood is now spewing from my eye sockets.

5. Lines -- I hate waiting in line. HATE. In fact, I so hate waiting in lines that I will force myself out of bed WAY early (I'm NOT a morning person, btw) to make sure I miss rush hour traffic, or wait several hours til it dies down at night, just to not have to go bumper to bumper. I would rather take back roads home that would keep me moving the whole time than stop and start on the interstate, even if it added 30 minutes to my normal 15 minute trip home from work. I also will never ever ever ever eat lunch between 12 and 1:30, if it's up to me. And if I'm dying for Chinese food, any semblance of a line at China Panda will send me scurrying for pigeon seed if there isn't a line on the sidewalk for that.

It's fun to purge. Maybe I'll keep this up as I discover more.

Nah, there couldn't be any more.................right?

Would You Want This Guy as a Groomsman?

2005-12-29T18:08:00.000-08:00

Me neither, but we know someone who does...

What the bleep is the matter with Kansas?

2005-12-28T09:30:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the barrage of link-related posts lately, but this was too good to pass up, the Purification has been very difficult to wrap my 5-1/4" mind around, and basically I've never had anything original to say in my life anyway. Hey, there's something to be said for "original context" though, right? Right?

Check it.
(link)

iGod

2005-12-27T12:17:00.000-08:00

This is a fantastic resource. Especially after this busy holiday season where no doubt, sinning is as prevalent as empty Godiva chocolate boxes at Brittney Spear's place. Here's my conversation with God today:

Me: Hi god. It's me Margaret.
God: Hello there. What is your name? Hi there Margaret.
Me: I screwed my neighbor.
God: That's good information: Margaret said screwed his or her neighbor.
Me: What?
God: Are you surprised?
Me: By what?
God: It's obvious.
Me: True.
God: You and I are on the same wavelength, Margaret.
Me: Well, you ARE god.
God: Interesting. Yup. That's me alright.
Me: So, how's it hanging?
God: Tell me more. I am fine, thank you.
Me: But which direction, I mean?
God: The blue one, I think.
Me: North?
God: Try saying that with more or less context.
Me: Well, if you're looking at a map, does it hang upwards?
God: How about that. Am I? Yes I can see it well.
Me: I think you need to see a therapist.
God: Me? Is that what you do, or what you think I should do?
Me: Yes.
God: Far out.
Me: Nice talking to you.
God: The pleasure was all mine.
Me: Later.
God: Bye!

I feel this could be a regular feature.

Four

2005-12-27T08:28:00.000-08:00

Pooh has thrown down the guantlet, and since I "cleverly" ignored his last guantlet-down-throwing, I suppose I should compromise by accepting the challenge this time around. Without further ado, the Meme of Four:

Four Jobs I've Had In My Life: Biomedical Engineer/Scientist, Teaching Assistant, Bartender, Semi-pro Basketball Player (mind you, not Play-ah)

Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over: Varsity Blues, Caddyshack, Contact, Good Will Hunting

Four Places I've Lived: Dinkytown; Tonka; Northfield, MN; Iowa City, IA

Four TV Shows I Love to Watch: Scrubs, Lost, Daily Show, Family Guy

Four Places I've Been On Vacation: Hilton Head; Italy; Hawaii; Golf Course, USA

Four Websites I Visit Daily: Slashdot, McSweeney's, CollegeHumor, In the Pipeline

Four of My Favorite Foods: Prime Rib, Hollandaise, Mulligatawny, Yosemite Sandwiches

Four Places I'd Rather Be: Costa Rica, Cinqueterra, Douro, Arbor Brew Company

Four Albums I Can't Live Without: Clapton Unplugged, Mermaid Avenue (Billy Bragg and Wilco cover Guthrie), Oh Inverted World (Shins), Folsom Prison (Cash)

Hops, I nominate you next, if you're up to the task...

OMG

2005-12-21T08:12:00.000-08:00

OMG, this is so funny that it makes me brazenly use internet acronyms that I hate. Plus, I peed my pants. An SNL "digital skit" called Lazy Sunday. Props to the newest member of the Blogroll, Michelle at "You Can't Make it Up" for turning me on. To this.

Speaking of Blogroll, I wonder if the local bakery has any..

Eavesdropping (sp?)

2005-12-20T07:42:00.000-08:00

Overheard in the hallways of a large research university during finals week...

"You know, I just wasn't that suprised about getting a C. I always settle for mediocracy."

Yep.

Mr. T

2005-12-19T11:52:00.000-08:00

Come on now. You know you have a special place in your heart for Mr. T. Here are the Top Thirty Mr. T Facts....where the term 'facts' is used loosely.

My personal favorites:

Mr. T hates playing 'Rock Paper Scissors' because he doesn't believe anything could beat rock. He always chooses rock, and when someone throws paper, he says,"I win." If someone is foolish enough to dispute this, he takes his clenched fist and punches them in the face, then says, "I thought your paper would protect you."

When creating the alphabet, Mr. T placed the letters M, R, and T in seperate areas so people could learn to read and spell without fear.

Mr. T coined the phrase, "I see dead people," after the waiting staff at Denny's forgot his birthday.

Gravity dosen't exist. Mr. T just pities everything to stay the fuck down. Birds and planes are exempt beacuse they are shaped like Ts.

When Mr. T was circumsized his foreskin was not disposed of. Instead it was raised as a normal child, and it grew to love the game of basketball. Today we know Mr. T's foreskin as Shaquille O'Neal.

I love the internet.

Oh Yeah?

2005-12-18T22:02:00.000-08:00

Your Porn Star Name Is...

Long Dong Silver

What's Your Porn Star Name?

So there...

Porn Name

2005-12-18T07:03:00.000-08:00

Looks just like me.

Your Porn Star Name Is...

Xavier Dicks

What's Your Porn Star Name?

Wait a minute....Xavier sounds like....hee hee heeeee....

How to Talk Trash

2005-12-15T16:45:00.000-08:00

So here in the 'burg, there is a small, yet surprisingly ~~crappy~~virile Ultimate community. A now yearly tradition is for one of the younguns who's been playing since he was a wee munchkin to go off to college, and then return thinking of themselves as The Shit. This year is no different, except the little ~~fuck-nut~~ tyke went off to ply his trade at that bastion of greatness, The Harvard of the Midwest^tm. Young laddie has returned for ~~Christmasholiday~~Festivus break with big ambitions and bigger talk:

So.....
Sunday the 18th of december 12noon. . . be there....for the first annual.... barely legal vs. Ole and in the way....some of you that need to warm up should arrive at 11:30 because...we dont need to...

anticipating our victory,

[Trashtalking Littleshit]

Note three things: His grammar skills do not reflect well on The Harvard of the Midwest^tm; he is mighty confident; and he is terrible at smack talk. In response (not me):

Waking up early this morning, I stumbled out of bed and dragged myself to the sink. Splashing cold water on my face, I stared at my reflection and shuddered slightly. Was my hairline receeding, was my slowly aging 27 year old body starting to atrophy and grow cellulose around the edges. A brief moment of insecurity overcame me as I wondered if these little kids WERE perhaps the next thing, if perhaps they COULD win this game.... and then Mrs. [Littleshit] called to me from the bedroom, and said, "darling, bring that 6 foot 4, 185 pound frame of pure ultimate frisbee skill back here." Pulling myself away from the mirror I said, "[Littleshit's Mom], I'd love to, but I gotta go, its game time baby."

Ok, it's a mama joke. But a good mma joke. But the veterans weren't done (not me either):

It wasn't that long ago.....

I remember cradling little sweet [Littleshit] in my arms as he burbed up his food on my shoulder - now he just throws up swill. And although he sometimes acts like it, he wasn't born in a manger - he was born wishing he could play with the big kids.

Oh I remember.....

Now that's how you do it. Chrissy, if you are reading this, Down, down, down, red team goin down...

Purification Wrap-Up (cont.)

2005-12-15T16:31:00.000-08:00

So, one of the aforementioned "things that your significant other is probably just better off not hearing about" for me was one of those brilliant internet marketing campaigns...."Free Shit! Click here and do some idiotically easy things! We're so not even kidding!" For me, the object of desire was a free iPod, with all the bells and whistles. Now, me being the scientific and anal type, in addition to spending WAY too much time on the internet, had heard about these types of offers and did the requisite research to discover that yes, this deal does seem to be legit, according to numerous sources. There are probably dozens of similar offers out there, but all signs pointed to this one being For Real (apologies to Hunter S. Thompson for the semi-plagiarized overuse of capitalization).

The way these things typically work is that you have to sign up for a free trial of this, or give your credit card info and sign up for a month for that (then you can cancel), etc...I did the math, and figured out that I could do all six required offers for around $75 total if I diligently made sure that I cancelled everything on the proper dates. Plus, I got a free tooth whitening kit and some video professor CDs to learn how to use Excel!!!! P.S. I already know how to use Excel. Drat.

But one of the offers was for a certain online dating site, which shall remain nameless. Just sign up for a month, fill out a profile, cancel after your trial period, and you won't be charged. This seemed like a no-brainer to choose this offer because it was free and relatively easy to complete. I have to say in retrospect that somewhere deep in my totally crappy brain, a tiny tiny alarm was going off....should you really be doing this? But a much bigger part of my TCBrain was saying, "FREE iPOD!! FREE iPOD!! AACCHHHGGGHGH!!! YOU LOVE iPODS" Stupid brain.

I felt a bit like Homer Simpson. "All right, brain, I don't like you and you don't like me - so let's just do this and I'll get back to killing you with beer."

And so, I filled out the profile....

Purification Wrap-Up

2005-12-10T12:56:00.000-08:00

My favorite unemployed professional basketball player has a couple new articles up at ESPN.com since the last time I mentioned him, including this one from yesterday. The topic is very interesting...at least to me it is...and considering that it is coming from someone whose peers have claimed their $7 million dollar contract isn't enough to feed their family or that they should be provided with a stipend by the NBA to fulfill the NBA Dress Code of "slacks and a collared shirt", it is particularly thoughtful. The topic is race, or rather, how political correctness in this country precludes open discussions about topics (such as race) that are openly discussed in Europe or elsewhere in the world. John Stuart Mills must be rolling over in his grave somewhere. At least if he read this overblown bit regarding seemingly innocuous comments by Air Force Academy Coach Fisher DeBerry.

It got me thinking, however, about other times in life when you feel like you can't say exactly what you feel or what you're thinking. I'm speaking of course, about the following encounter, somewhat ubiquitous in male-female relationships:

"Honey, do I look fat in these jeans?"

"......................um." (staring straight ahead and trying to become invisible)

As far as I see it, there are several possible responses to this question, ".....um" not being one of them.

1. You're married to Angie Harmon (Implicit in this is that you're not Jason Sehorn, because obviously you would have killed yourself by now for being a tremendous douchepacker). So, it's Angie Harmon, so OF COURSE she looks good in those jeans. In which case the appropriate response is: "You're Angie Harmon. OF COURSE you look good in those jeans. I demand sex immediately." Excuse me, I have to go watch Law & Order Season 1 on DVD...

2. She looks anything other than absolutely fabulous in jeans. In this case, there are a million possibilities, but I believe there is only one correct one. "You look great, babe." You can, of course, insert your own cutesy term for your significant other in place of babe...hon, honey, dude, woman, muffin, sweety, vulva. In other words, you lie.

Now, obviously there are degrees of lying, and in the grad scheme of things, this kind of lie is like a 2 on a scale of 1 to 10 (where 1 is a little white lie and 10 is Fox News). But this is the kind of issue that eventually led to the end of my last relationship, and the subsequent beginning of the Purification, which I hope to wrap up here in this series of posts.

I was in a great relationship where we could talk about all kinds of things that are normally taboo. I thought it was really unique. We wanted to have a "totally open and honest" relationship, where we could talk through anything, and in fact always did. I (and she felt the same way) was always very proud of the way that we could talk through difficult periods, which are plentiful when you go more than two years living several thousand miles apart. But I still always felt, along the lines of the above example, that there are times in a relationship when you are forced to lie....that there are things that your significant other is probably just better off not hearing about.

Dangerous thinking...and my fib-arometer was obviously way off....

6'2"

Funny. To nerds. And English majors.

Ch...Ch...ch...Ch...changes

Underemployed

Random Quote

SSSHHHH...

ZZzzzzz.....

Top Albums of 2007

State of Love and Trust

Angels and Giants: Part 1

Growns up and you're growns up and you're growns up

From the No *bleep* Sherlock Files

Keith Richards joking when he said he snorted dad's ashes, spokesman says

Original Thought

Sand Sculptures Are Neat

Reasons Wisconsin Will Lose to UNLV In Round 2 (If Not Earlier)

LexiConman

Good Acoustics in Here

A Public Service Announcment

Appropriate For Children?

Spamtacular

Wreckomendation: O.J.

Top Five Yes, No, and Maybe Respones To An Evite Party Invitation

I Like Sports

Where I Been (wedding remix)

No Clever Subject Needed

Wreckomendations

Where I Been

Time Keeps On Turning

Sigh Phi Recommendations

Music To Sweat By

Frankie (Really) Can't Relax

Unintentional Comedy

The worse thing is, 50 million people will watch this movie.

Guster is for lovers

Don't. Want. To Live Like a Refugee.

Somalia Defeats Rwanda To Win Third-World Cup

And Now For Something Completely Different

Science is Sacrilicious

"Drinking coffee cuts alcohol's harmful effects" -- Just a cup a day helps prevent cirrhosis of the liver, researchers say

Math Lesson

...Yet There Is Method In It

Rogue Scientist Has Own Scientific Method

Spelling Bee

Charlie Sheen Update

Urban Kickball and Other Ways To Get In Trouble

Alumni Weekend

Strange But Awesome

Working For the Weekend

Sigur Ros

Redemption's Son

Required Reading for Chix

MVP Debate

Oh. My. Dog.

It's A Boy!!

Rasheed Wallace: A Model of Class

Charlie Sheen is a Blundering Idiot

Reorganization (Addendum)

Reorganization, Biyatches

Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!

In the Beginning...

March Madness, Friday Badness, and Sunday Evening Sadness

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Too Good Not to Share

Carmelized Minions

Say You, Say Meme

First Annual Tall Quiz!!

Your Back Mountain is So Broke Yo

WMI

Dick Hunt

Too Much Time On Your Hands

Quayle, I Mean Quail Hunting

"Lawyer shot by Cheney while hunting hospitalized, stable"

Getting Midieval on the Ass of a Perfect Stranger

Dude.

I See Your Chuck Norris...

WWCND?

It's That Good Will, Part Deux.

January

SotU Blogging

From the No bleep Sherlock Files