Kudos to anyone who saw the parody in the title and a Fall Out Boy track from their sophomore release "From Under The Cork Tree," which rocked/ kicked a shit ton of ass. I have yet to fully embrace (ie. listen to) their newest, "Infinity On High," but me likey so far.
I have not posted in a long time and really don't feel like writing anything now... I am le tired, you see, and having to get up at 7AM tomorrow doesn't leave room or hope for solace. My summer A&P course ended on Aug. 9th (I got an A, woo!) and besides work and ny newish girlfriend, I have not done a lot. However, I did just get back from the BWCAW...
The Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness!
It was a lot of fun. The cast of players included Bieniek, Weber, Katie + Chris Day, Liz, Jess Lage, and Fogletron. We laughed, we cried, we banged pots to scare away a bear. All in all, it was a good trip. It could have been warmer out and I could have caught more than 0 fish, but nothing quite compares to being away from cars and buildings and people who act like their job and even personal goal in life is to:
A). Get in my way
and
B). Annoy me
On the way home we stopped at the (in)famous Gordy's High-Hat restaurant and ice cream parlour. After my mushroom + swiss burger and onion rings, I sauntered over to the ice cream shoppe (notice my treny retro spelling) and got a double scoop, one each of maple nut and coconut joy.
And then it occurred to me...
One can act like a badass mofo in a lot of situations in life. Seeing as how I'm not physically imposing or otherwise intimidating, I sometimes order "hard" shots at the bar, like Jack or anything with the word "rail" in it. Sure, it can be like drinking razor blades, but the chicks dig it.. or would if they noticed me... and I bet they'd notice me if I was a tough-looking badass. Self-defeating prophecy? Maybe. Instead of lifting and earning some attention, I am cutting out the middle man and thus gain nada.
BUT! I digress, as per usual. My point is that no one, and I mean no one ever in the history of ice cream parlours/ shoppes/ stands/ mobiles, has ever looked tough whilst ordering ice cream.
What could you really say? "Give me two scoops Caramel Crunch Sensation and another scoop of Fruity Frenzy, please... BITCH!"
Honestly, ice cream is named so as to eliminate aggression. Seriously, no flavors have names like "Blunt Trauma Tuffle" or "Broken Face Swirl."
On a side side side side side side side side side note, I am entertaining the idea of doing some stand-up at an open mic night. I'd probably bomb and drinks would be expensive... but seeing someone get heckled to a literal death might be worth a $5 tap beer. Cheers!
Friday, August 24, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
In My Spare Time
I get bored easily. Instead of doing something productive (such as homework for my newly started course), I sometimes create elaborate stories for the sole purpose of trying to get someone to believe that they are true.
Example: Today I called my sisted and, in a semi-freaked out tone, told her that I had been doing landscaping for my dad in the backyard of his house. I stated that I was digging a deepish hole to plant a big shrub between the border of our lawn and some woods behind it when all of a sudden I cracked through some weird, thin layer of plywood or something similar.
I went on to say that a hole about 2 feet deep opened up once I removed some debris and that I found a small, human-shaped skull at the bottom of the hole, surrounded by a border of rocks laid out in a square shape. I asked her if I should call the police or what while Lindsey wondered aloud whether or not the people who lived here before us had a baby that died and secretly buried it back there.
So, she believed me.
It was fun.
You might be next.
Example: Today I called my sisted and, in a semi-freaked out tone, told her that I had been doing landscaping for my dad in the backyard of his house. I stated that I was digging a deepish hole to plant a big shrub between the border of our lawn and some woods behind it when all of a sudden I cracked through some weird, thin layer of plywood or something similar.
I went on to say that a hole about 2 feet deep opened up once I removed some debris and that I found a small, human-shaped skull at the bottom of the hole, surrounded by a border of rocks laid out in a square shape. I asked her if I should call the police or what while Lindsey wondered aloud whether or not the people who lived here before us had a baby that died and secretly buried it back there.
So, she believed me.
It was fun.
You might be next.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Lack of Color
Alright, so I watch The O.C. now and, contrary to my initial opinions on any series sucking that takes place in Orange County, CA but that doesn't showcase ska music at all, I like it. My reasoning is simple: everytime Seth Cohen comes on, it is like I am watching a Jewish version of myself. Really, it is fascinating. He's Matt junior with an afro and better writers.
Society should change so that I can hang out and travel now and then just work once I'm on the downward slope towards the afterlife, which I really hope has cherry-flavored Pez. If it doesn't... maybe I'll try to figure out how to make that 100 virgins thing happen for me. Beats a lack of Pez candies, right?
I'm ready for a new tattoo. Read Catch 22, digest it and then you'll know why I want the red running figure from the book cover on me in a permanent fashion. Yossarian away!
In my class of 11 people, there were two attractive girls on Day 1. Now, there is just one. WTF, mate indeed.
Sometimes I think that I'll never accomplish or do anything even semi-extraordinary. It's depressing. "Big plans, big crash-- why be different when you can't be yourself?" says Less Than Jake. They got me pegged, even back in the 90's I was all show and no go.
The song "One Tin Soldier" is amazing and really should become the national anthem of Sealand (note: One can learn all about amazing Sealand, which is not at all like Sea World, in an earlier post of mind-- just peruse past subject titles and you'll be $).
Society should change so that I can hang out and travel now and then just work once I'm on the downward slope towards the afterlife, which I really hope has cherry-flavored Pez. If it doesn't... maybe I'll try to figure out how to make that 100 virgins thing happen for me. Beats a lack of Pez candies, right?
I'm ready for a new tattoo. Read Catch 22, digest it and then you'll know why I want the red running figure from the book cover on me in a permanent fashion. Yossarian away!
In my class of 11 people, there were two attractive girls on Day 1. Now, there is just one. WTF, mate indeed.
Sometimes I think that I'll never accomplish or do anything even semi-extraordinary. It's depressing. "Big plans, big crash-- why be different when you can't be yourself?" says Less Than Jake. They got me pegged, even back in the 90's I was all show and no go.
The song "One Tin Soldier" is amazing and really should become the national anthem of Sealand (note: One can learn all about amazing Sealand, which is not at all like Sea World, in an earlier post of mind-- just peruse past subject titles and you'll be $).
Monday, May 7, 2007
I absolutely loved this book.
Preface: Please do not steal this book review for any kind of school assignment-- that would be a jerkish move to make, really.
The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America
By: Erik Larson
Erik Larson, author of the acclaimed “Isaac’s Storm” and “Lethal Passage,” precedes his masterful nonfiction work with the following note: “Beneath the gore and smoke and loam, this book is about the evanescence of life, and why some men choose to fill their brief allotment of time engaging the impossible, others in the manufacture of sorrow. In the end it is a story of the ineluctable conflict between good and evil, daylight and darkness, the White City and the Black.”
Larson’s plot is quite broad in its scope, though the underlying canvas upon which he paints his story consists of the conception, construction and celebration of the “fair that changed America.” The exposition brought an unlimited amount of opportunity to Chicago- many took advantage of it, though in different ways. Fame was earned through buildings, business ventures… and murder.
Bringing Chicago to life in brilliant fashion, Larson recounts the World’s Columbian Exposition that was hosted by the Windy City in 1893. The tale, however macabre and magnificent at times, is entirely true and requires no embellishment to make it both fascinating and frightening. Larson’s epic tale revolves primarily around two men, both harboring great talents and ambitions though they stand on opposite ends of the moral spectrum.
Daniel Burnham, famed architect and socialite, is charged with overseeing the construction and design of the World’s Fair that is to be hosted by Chicago. The challenges are daunting and the time allotted maybe five years too few, but Burnham’s drive to not only succeed but to top the fair hosted by Paris only a few years before fuels the formation of his “White City.” Upon Burnham’s back was the weight of the world as all eyes and criticisms were focused squarely on the impossibility of his undertaking. As Larson hints, even those most supportive of the plans must have been somewhat surprised that everything actually came to fruition.
While Burnham’s story in itself is intriguing enough to make “Devil” a bestseller and an addicting read, the events surrounding Dr. H. H. Holmes (real name Dr. Herman Webster Mudgett) are just as engrossing. The Chicago Times-Herald described him quite aptly, writing “He is a prodigy of wickedness, a human demon, a being so unthinkable that no novelist would dare to invent such a character.” While I will avoid giving too much information away, Holmes is likened to Jack the Ripper though, as Larson so eloquently highlights time and again, he is much more calculated and brilliant in carrying out his perverse, haunting acts.
Although the author's focal point is on the larger-than-life characters that were Burnham and Holmes, the backdrop of this novel was simply wonderful. Chicago witnessed unbelievable sights during the fair: The rise of the first Ferris wheel; full-size replicas of Columbus’s fleet in Lake Michigan; a record breaking one-day attendance of almost one million people; the heartbeat of a country and city embodied by the drive and efforts of a few great men. People wept at the sight of the fair. One could spend an entire day in just one building marveling at the sights. Entire villages were brought over from places as remote as Africa and Asia, complete with goats and buildings. As sad as I am that I missed what was perhaps the grandest spectacle ever to exist in modern times, the detail exhibited in Larson’s writing gives me some consolation and is most assuredly the next best thing to having been there in person.
This novel is utterly fantastic in its scope and content. Larson paints a grand picture through the utilization of quotes, first-person sources and newspaper articles. The fact that the entire story is true is overshadowed only by how well and seamlessly Larson puts together the menagerie that was Chicago’s World Fair. To give Larson anything less than a 10 out of 10 for this captivating read would be an obvious mistake. Read it once, digest the story, then read it once more.
By: Erik Larson
Erik Larson, author of the acclaimed “Isaac’s Storm” and “Lethal Passage,” precedes his masterful nonfiction work with the following note: “Beneath the gore and smoke and loam, this book is about the evanescence of life, and why some men choose to fill their brief allotment of time engaging the impossible, others in the manufacture of sorrow. In the end it is a story of the ineluctable conflict between good and evil, daylight and darkness, the White City and the Black.”
Larson’s plot is quite broad in its scope, though the underlying canvas upon which he paints his story consists of the conception, construction and celebration of the “fair that changed America.” The exposition brought an unlimited amount of opportunity to Chicago- many took advantage of it, though in different ways. Fame was earned through buildings, business ventures… and murder.
Bringing Chicago to life in brilliant fashion, Larson recounts the World’s Columbian Exposition that was hosted by the Windy City in 1893. The tale, however macabre and magnificent at times, is entirely true and requires no embellishment to make it both fascinating and frightening. Larson’s epic tale revolves primarily around two men, both harboring great talents and ambitions though they stand on opposite ends of the moral spectrum.
Daniel Burnham, famed architect and socialite, is charged with overseeing the construction and design of the World’s Fair that is to be hosted by Chicago. The challenges are daunting and the time allotted maybe five years too few, but Burnham’s drive to not only succeed but to top the fair hosted by Paris only a few years before fuels the formation of his “White City.” Upon Burnham’s back was the weight of the world as all eyes and criticisms were focused squarely on the impossibility of his undertaking. As Larson hints, even those most supportive of the plans must have been somewhat surprised that everything actually came to fruition.
While Burnham’s story in itself is intriguing enough to make “Devil” a bestseller and an addicting read, the events surrounding Dr. H. H. Holmes (real name Dr. Herman Webster Mudgett) are just as engrossing. The Chicago Times-Herald described him quite aptly, writing “He is a prodigy of wickedness, a human demon, a being so unthinkable that no novelist would dare to invent such a character.” While I will avoid giving too much information away, Holmes is likened to Jack the Ripper though, as Larson so eloquently highlights time and again, he is much more calculated and brilliant in carrying out his perverse, haunting acts.
Although the author's focal point is on the larger-than-life characters that were Burnham and Holmes, the backdrop of this novel was simply wonderful. Chicago witnessed unbelievable sights during the fair: The rise of the first Ferris wheel; full-size replicas of Columbus’s fleet in Lake Michigan; a record breaking one-day attendance of almost one million people; the heartbeat of a country and city embodied by the drive and efforts of a few great men. People wept at the sight of the fair. One could spend an entire day in just one building marveling at the sights. Entire villages were brought over from places as remote as Africa and Asia, complete with goats and buildings. As sad as I am that I missed what was perhaps the grandest spectacle ever to exist in modern times, the detail exhibited in Larson’s writing gives me some consolation and is most assuredly the next best thing to having been there in person.
This novel is utterly fantastic in its scope and content. Larson paints a grand picture through the utilization of quotes, first-person sources and newspaper articles. The fact that the entire story is true is overshadowed only by how well and seamlessly Larson puts together the menagerie that was Chicago’s World Fair. To give Larson anything less than a 10 out of 10 for this captivating read would be an obvious mistake. Read it once, digest the story, then read it once more.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Life on Stand-By
Alright, so let me weave a little story really quickly:
I am signed up for an Anatomy & Physiology course at Northwestern Health Sciences University in Bloomington, MN that began on May 1st... or so I thought. After battling horrible traffic from Rogers to the Penn Ave. Exit (30 mkiles in 1.2 hours = please slit my wrists instead of ever having to do that again), I arrived at the school and found my way to the classroom-- M26. I was 10 minutes early, no one was around adn the lights weren't even on. I choose a primo seat and just waited... and waited... and then left.
After reviewing my class schedule, I found some random sheet that I thought only stated where each class was, but it actually had adjusted times and start dates on it. Turns out I don't have school until May 22nd... so, I was 3 weeks 10 minutes early for my first day of school.
Because of that faux pax, my days are a little more... open? Yes. Basically, I am now a bum with no job, no prospects and no class 2x a week until May 22nd. Because of this, I feel it would be fun to descfibe my typical day for ya'll... well, Prom and McCarty, and maybe Jackie if she reads this (and Jackie, if you do-- send me that word document I wrote on your computer-- mjhoffman37@gmail.com).
Here we go:
Wake up: I always set my alarm for about 9:00AM, though I readjust it multiple times every morning until it gets to be about 10:30. After that, I stroll downstairs and watch the last 1/2 of The Price Is Right because I enjoy heckling the contestants and making fun of the horrible actors-gone-"beauties" that showcase things like dog food and stripped down Ford Rangers.
I have started watching the O.C. religiously at 1Pm, which is always fun. I hope I caught it at the beginning of the series (was that psych Oliver kid in the 1st season? You know, the guy who punches himself in the head and freaks out all the time?).
Soccer is basically my bread and butter. I decided to play for a Division 4 team as well as my old Division 2 team since I really have nothing else to do. I really need to find some kind of accomodation in or around Bloomington soon, if only temporary...
One nice thing about the last few weeks is that there have been lots of family dinners. My aunt came in from L.A./ San Diego and that was a 2-for-1 since we went out twice. I also eat dinner at my grandma's on Wednesdays.
This post has been shitty, so go Emeril on you and kick it up a notch-- BAM!
I am going to begin homebrewing beer. And, no, it is not going to be half-assed and terrible. I've got a few good books and, like I said, lots of free time to make this happen. My first beer will be a brown ale called "Big Bear Brown Ale" followed by "Ska-Punk Stout" and the (well, soon to be) immensely popular "Mopeds Are for Heroes Maibock."
If you are nice to me, I'll give you a bottle. Remember, as the ABV will be around 8.5-9.5% for the aforementioned beers, they are siutable for cellaring and aging.
I am signed up for an Anatomy & Physiology course at Northwestern Health Sciences University in Bloomington, MN that began on May 1st... or so I thought. After battling horrible traffic from Rogers to the Penn Ave. Exit (30 mkiles in 1.2 hours = please slit my wrists instead of ever having to do that again), I arrived at the school and found my way to the classroom-- M26. I was 10 minutes early, no one was around adn the lights weren't even on. I choose a primo seat and just waited... and waited... and then left.
After reviewing my class schedule, I found some random sheet that I thought only stated where each class was, but it actually had adjusted times and start dates on it. Turns out I don't have school until May 22nd... so, I was 3 weeks 10 minutes early for my first day of school.
Because of that faux pax, my days are a little more... open? Yes. Basically, I am now a bum with no job, no prospects and no class 2x a week until May 22nd. Because of this, I feel it would be fun to descfibe my typical day for ya'll... well, Prom and McCarty, and maybe Jackie if she reads this (and Jackie, if you do-- send me that word document I wrote on your computer-- mjhoffman37@gmail.com).
Here we go:
Wake up: I always set my alarm for about 9:00AM, though I readjust it multiple times every morning until it gets to be about 10:30. After that, I stroll downstairs and watch the last 1/2 of The Price Is Right because I enjoy heckling the contestants and making fun of the horrible actors-gone-"beauties" that showcase things like dog food and stripped down Ford Rangers.
I have started watching the O.C. religiously at 1Pm, which is always fun. I hope I caught it at the beginning of the series (was that psych Oliver kid in the 1st season? You know, the guy who punches himself in the head and freaks out all the time?).
Soccer is basically my bread and butter. I decided to play for a Division 4 team as well as my old Division 2 team since I really have nothing else to do. I really need to find some kind of accomodation in or around Bloomington soon, if only temporary...
One nice thing about the last few weeks is that there have been lots of family dinners. My aunt came in from L.A./ San Diego and that was a 2-for-1 since we went out twice. I also eat dinner at my grandma's on Wednesdays.
This post has been shitty, so go Emeril on you and kick it up a notch-- BAM!
I am going to begin homebrewing beer. And, no, it is not going to be half-assed and terrible. I've got a few good books and, like I said, lots of free time to make this happen. My first beer will be a brown ale called "Big Bear Brown Ale" followed by "Ska-Punk Stout" and the (well, soon to be) immensely popular "Mopeds Are for Heroes Maibock."
If you are nice to me, I'll give you a bottle. Remember, as the ABV will be around 8.5-9.5% for the aforementioned beers, they are siutable for cellaring and aging.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Concrete Has No Sympathy
I'm living life post-Europe these days and it has been awhile since I've felt motivated enough to take the time to write. This feels entertaining right now, so hopefully I can get back to some sort of regular posting schedule.
Anyway, it is nearly the 20th anniversary of a little outfit you probably have never heard of-- Operation Ivy. It all started in mid-May, 1987 (yes, '87, that isn't a typo) and ended in 1989. In that short time-frame, they created music that I absolutely love and that has inspired a lot of the bands I've been listening to since 7th grade. Rancid, Reel Big Fish, Less Than Jake... there are tons more, but I'm lazyish.
Why do I mention all of this? Because after an on-again, off-again relationship with eBay and various online forums, I finally tracked down an affordable copy of a compilation cd that is made up of Op Ivy covers. In particular, the band My superhero bid a damn good good and now I've been listening to the track "Big City" constantly.
Big City lyrics
Concrete and chaos rise up
Spiderweb across the land
Like a giant rash
Forests lie down below
Foundations of buildings in a bed of ash
Some people here got it real good
'Cause the glass towers bring prosperity
Other people starve in the street
Because concrete knows no sympathy
Big city- it's a wishing well
Big city- it's a living hell
This town its fucking insane
How one will starve and another will gain
Like a giant, mechanical brain
And the people are cells and the streets are veins
It thinks only of itself
A thousand limbs crawling as it expands and grows
And still the concrete sits there
Sits there
Stark grey and cold
And I think I wanna be a brick layer
So I can put another brick in the wall
It's sanitary, rational, happy and sane
Growing like a flower to surround us all
It is just one huge badass of a song and really makes me think about things like social injustice, the destruction of the environment and the general sense of apathy one can nearly physically feel as people compalin about traffic, gas prices and re-runs on television.
I named it, as well- Conditioned Ineptness. It almost seems like the current society trains us to feel like we can only do so much and that, even then, it will never be enough to change anything. Do you honestly feel that you can make a difference, being one person of over 6 fucking billion people in the world? Recycling an extra 2-3 items a day, driving a single car 50 less miles a week maybe?
When one looks at it logically and objectively, the answer almost scream back a resounding "NO!" and it is sickly depressing, like getting punched in the gut. I love life and the Earth and nature, but it seems to me that we've become trained and have this idea ingrained within us that nothing WE do as individuals will make a difference.
I want to change that.
Look around, all we really have is each other. Quitting is easy. I want to be able to say that I tried to improve the world, for better or worse. If I can say that and fully believe it, then I have succeeded and no matter what the outcome, that will never be able to be ripped from me. The one thing that the decision-makers, oppressors and nay-sayers (yeah, I totally went there) have not and cannot account for is the power of example and the way good can spread from one individual to another.
If I were to go stand liek a street corner prophet and hold a sign high above my head that says "Why Are We In Iraq?" or something else that is politically or socially charged, it might only get noticed by one person. However, that person may pass along the statement or idea to a few other people and so on.
It is like that Chinese fable involving an emperor and a peasant. The king owed said peasant for a deed he did and had to choose between giving the peasant several large bags of rice OR to give the peasant one grain of rice on the first square of a chessboard and to double to amount for each square thereafter. The emperor immediately choose the chessboard route and ended up giving the wise peasant a hell of a lot more rice than he otherwise would have had to (1 doubles to 2, etc. 63 times).
Now, I a may be slightly off but you're still asking yourself, "What the hell does rice and emperors and wily peasants have to do with changing the state of the world in which we live?"
SIMPLE! I am just 1 person, yes, but it wouldn't be very hard for me to find 2 people and educate or otherwise involve them with the issues of today. Likewise, if each of them can find 2 people apiece, we're on a roll. It is like a chain-letter or e-mail of goodness and decency. Make it happen.
Other News
I am moving to Bloomington or some other such place soon, as I am re-entering school yet again. I'm excited and it will be nice to be a bit closer to my good friends who so dilligently read my blog. I probably lost a few due to my lack of hustle in pumping out posts, but as Matt Prom recently said (right before he head-butted my Scotch & water to the ground anf my pants), "Quality is way better than quantity... and I think Jesus would have been able to pull off a sombrero, no problem."
Also, I need to credit Jackie for helping me devise my next (patent pending!) get-rich-or-die-tryin' scheme- alcoholic candy! Jolly Ranchers, in association with Bacardi Inc. and Yours Truly, are devising a capsule that combines the great tasting flavors of jolly Ranchers Brand hard candies and the smooth, liquid gold of Bacardi rums and spirits into a perfect drink! Just add water. Also, alcoholic hard candies that one would just suck on are also in the R&D Department.
Wouldn't that be awesome? And it is so totally NOT marketing geared toards children... just like cigarettes and Pokemon aren't, right? Yes.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Beer For Breakfast, Heart Attacks For Snacks
NOTE: I wrote this maybe a week ago but couldn't get it to post, so now I'm just getting settled in down in Budapest after a night train from Prague.
Heylo out there in the land of digital entertainment/ time-burning!
I am having a great time in Germany so far. After arriving and getting caught up on sleep (though not before drinking a LOT of beer in man-sized glasses and eating a pretzel larger than my entire melon), I felt ready to take on the sights and sounds, tastes and temptations of Munich. A massive city of several million, Munich is considered the capital of Bavaria and doesn't slack off in earning the title.
Beer, meat bread and cheese-- these are the typical components of any true Bavarian meal. Oh, and mustard. They have frickin' amazing mustard varieties. At any rate, I just enjoyed what is known as a "Bavaria breakfast" and Eric's place in Bamberg, appoximaely two hours north of Munich via train. I had a nice weissbier, some Nurnberger sausages and bread as well as a pretzel and poached egg. Sweet and hot mustards were served, as well, which really complimented the prezel accordingly.
Ok, so I saw castles, Munich's Olympic park, old churches, etc. I realize that many of you (well, 2 out of the 3 who read my blog that I know of) probably want to hear some crazy stories, so I'll indulge you.
Trip Lowlights
~Nearly missing my connecting flight in Amsterdam. I was forced to run like Carl Lewis on acid and green tea across those moving walkways, weaving in and out of human traffic as I desperately sought gate B-22. I made it, though my pants kept sliding down and I was the sweatiest guy to ever fly on a KLM "City Hopper" flight, hands down. The mayonaisse and salmon sandwich I was served almost made up for it though...
~My hostel was arranged in just the perfect way that it was extremely hard for me to sleep. I was in a full 22 person room that had an exit light, which happened to shine on my face when I was trying to rest, that was on 24/7. People were jerks and accumulated lots of points in tha category. One girl decided to call each of her parents separately beginning at 5AM. She was loud and didn't try to whisper, though I did glean that her sister only made the waiting list at the University of Washington and was very dissapointed. Apparently, she chokes big time when the chips are down and did poorly on her SAT/ACT.
Trip Highlights
~Delicious beer. In fact, I made it to a Benedctine monastery called Andech's where they brew very otent draughts. I ordered a meal of cabbage and haxe'n, which was essentially a huge drumstick-like object that was fried pork. I got two havles, which turned out to be over 1Kg of meat. It was insanely huge, really. One could injure someone by lobbing the meat stick at them from a distance. Half of it was too big to even be crammed inside of a liter-sized beer mug (don't ask how I know that, I just do).
~Street Performer X. After hitting up Hofbrau Haus for the 2nd time on our first day, we happened across a street performer who was signing and such. He asked for money and when I said I had none (which was actually 100% true), he became semi-angry and started calling me a cheap American or something. The funny thing is, Eric was trying to give the guy money and he refused it. Then, Eric started calling him a "fake and a phony" and the guy got really angry. We left shortly thereafter.
Now, as I sit in Bamberg, I am getting things organized to get from here to Prague and from Prague to Budapest before swinging back to Muenchen. I think a night in Dresden is in the card, as well.
I absolutely hate typing on lappers, so I am going to go. Keep on rocking in the free world, cool cats. Prost!
~Matt H.
Heylo out there in the land of digital entertainment/ time-burning!
I am having a great time in Germany so far. After arriving and getting caught up on sleep (though not before drinking a LOT of beer in man-sized glasses and eating a pretzel larger than my entire melon), I felt ready to take on the sights and sounds, tastes and temptations of Munich. A massive city of several million, Munich is considered the capital of Bavaria and doesn't slack off in earning the title.
Beer, meat bread and cheese-- these are the typical components of any true Bavarian meal. Oh, and mustard. They have frickin' amazing mustard varieties. At any rate, I just enjoyed what is known as a "Bavaria breakfast" and Eric's place in Bamberg, appoximaely two hours north of Munich via train. I had a nice weissbier, some Nurnberger sausages and bread as well as a pretzel and poached egg. Sweet and hot mustards were served, as well, which really complimented the prezel accordingly.
Ok, so I saw castles, Munich's Olympic park, old churches, etc. I realize that many of you (well, 2 out of the 3 who read my blog that I know of) probably want to hear some crazy stories, so I'll indulge you.
Trip Lowlights
~Nearly missing my connecting flight in Amsterdam. I was forced to run like Carl Lewis on acid and green tea across those moving walkways, weaving in and out of human traffic as I desperately sought gate B-22. I made it, though my pants kept sliding down and I was the sweatiest guy to ever fly on a KLM "City Hopper" flight, hands down. The mayonaisse and salmon sandwich I was served almost made up for it though...
~My hostel was arranged in just the perfect way that it was extremely hard for me to sleep. I was in a full 22 person room that had an exit light, which happened to shine on my face when I was trying to rest, that was on 24/7. People were jerks and accumulated lots of points in tha category. One girl decided to call each of her parents separately beginning at 5AM. She was loud and didn't try to whisper, though I did glean that her sister only made the waiting list at the University of Washington and was very dissapointed. Apparently, she chokes big time when the chips are down and did poorly on her SAT/ACT.
Trip Highlights
~Delicious beer. In fact, I made it to a Benedctine monastery called Andech's where they brew very otent draughts. I ordered a meal of cabbage and haxe'n, which was essentially a huge drumstick-like object that was fried pork. I got two havles, which turned out to be over 1Kg of meat. It was insanely huge, really. One could injure someone by lobbing the meat stick at them from a distance. Half of it was too big to even be crammed inside of a liter-sized beer mug (don't ask how I know that, I just do).
~Street Performer X. After hitting up Hofbrau Haus for the 2nd time on our first day, we happened across a street performer who was signing and such. He asked for money and when I said I had none (which was actually 100% true), he became semi-angry and started calling me a cheap American or something. The funny thing is, Eric was trying to give the guy money and he refused it. Then, Eric started calling him a "fake and a phony" and the guy got really angry. We left shortly thereafter.
Now, as I sit in Bamberg, I am getting things organized to get from here to Prague and from Prague to Budapest before swinging back to Muenchen. I think a night in Dresden is in the card, as well.
I absolutely hate typing on lappers, so I am going to go. Keep on rocking in the free world, cool cats. Prost!
~Matt H.
Monday, March 26, 2007
The Story So Far
Entourage is the best show ever. After having illegaly downloaded and watched season 3 in all of its glory and awesomeness (what else am I going to do in St. Cloud? Come on!) I can safely say that I am mentally prepared to crush Europe. The show imparted a certain brand of street smarts that only HBO can dream up (and that is saying something, wow!).
Example dialogue:
E: She basically called me a stalker.
Johnny Drama: Girls have a tendency to throw that word around, E. I wouldn't worry about it.
Now, let the record show that if I am ever any kind of mogul, I will definitely try to imitate that lifestyle. I'd become a mullet personified-- business up front, party in the back. It'd probably be a 10/90 split like that, roughly equal the the ratio of short vs. long hair mullets are known for. However, I wouldn't have a mullet if I was extremely wealthy, that'd be a quick way to destroy my image.
Some good bands that I'll be listening to on my trip:
~The Living End
~Brand New
~Taking Back Sunday
I feel the aforementioned groups have several tracks that make for a good walking soundtrack.
Things I'll be doing:
~Beer gardens
~Pictures and touristy things
~Disco dancing
A wide variety of activities is what travelling is all about!
Places I'll be seeing:
~Munich
~Prauge
~Budapest
~Other
Note: I decided againt going to Vienna in lieu of spending more time in Germany, since Eric more than likely cannot re-enter the country if he leaves it.
I will be travelling hard and fast; knees high; mind open to new experiences. Here is a school paper article I wrote that was never published and is based on a type of travel, muhahahaha!
Advice for 12 Year-Old Me
"The future is upon us! With all of the new technology coming out, I figure the moment is quickly approaching where time travel Back to the Future style will be a reality, minus the DeLorean though.
My inaugural time traveling destination would most definitely be to Saint Cloud, MN on a warm summer day in 1995. I would visit the 12 year old version of me, and I’d pass along some sage-like advice.
I have actually thought about this a lot. Assuming the time I get to spend with my mini-me would be limited to some degree, I’d skip eating at Rax to pass along five invaluable pieces of advice.
1. “Learn to play the guitar at all costs.” In fact, I would even take my younger self to go get a guitar and hire a teacher while we were at Al’s Music.
2 “Ditch the ‘side-part’ hairstyle pronto.” This would have prevented rejection from the fairer sex in years to come and numerous embarrassing photos from surfacing in high school.
3. “Do not waste your money on pogs, Magic cards or cassette tapes. Seriously.” I figure that with some better saving habits back then, I’d be nearing retirement today.
4. “Do not buy the following things on eBay: paintball gun; cardboard movie theater standee from the movie Willow; hockey skates; Reel Big Fish antenna ball; electric guitar; German car audio equipment.” This one is pretty much self-explanatory…
5. “Suck it up and start riding roller coasters.” I am deathly afraid of heights but also would like to ride a roller coaster before I die, a really sweet one with loops and zero-g’s and all that jazz.
That sums up what my first trip back in time would be like. Sure, it may lack the flair that many people would opt for, but this is my fantasy and I will not be censored!
Cheers and happy time traveling (eventually).
Listen up so you'll hear what I'm saying, because I'm not talking to myself or even praying.
Example dialogue:
E: She basically called me a stalker.
Johnny Drama: Girls have a tendency to throw that word around, E. I wouldn't worry about it.
Now, let the record show that if I am ever any kind of mogul, I will definitely try to imitate that lifestyle. I'd become a mullet personified-- business up front, party in the back. It'd probably be a 10/90 split like that, roughly equal the the ratio of short vs. long hair mullets are known for. However, I wouldn't have a mullet if I was extremely wealthy, that'd be a quick way to destroy my image.
Some good bands that I'll be listening to on my trip:
~The Living End
~Brand New
~Taking Back Sunday
I feel the aforementioned groups have several tracks that make for a good walking soundtrack.
Things I'll be doing:
~Beer gardens
~Pictures and touristy things
~Disco dancing
A wide variety of activities is what travelling is all about!
Places I'll be seeing:
~Munich
~Prauge
~Budapest
~Other
Note: I decided againt going to Vienna in lieu of spending more time in Germany, since Eric more than likely cannot re-enter the country if he leaves it.
I will be travelling hard and fast; knees high; mind open to new experiences. Here is a school paper article I wrote that was never published and is based on a type of travel, muhahahaha!
Advice for 12 Year-Old Me
"The future is upon us! With all of the new technology coming out, I figure the moment is quickly approaching where time travel Back to the Future style will be a reality, minus the DeLorean though.
My inaugural time traveling destination would most definitely be to Saint Cloud, MN on a warm summer day in 1995. I would visit the 12 year old version of me, and I’d pass along some sage-like advice.
I have actually thought about this a lot. Assuming the time I get to spend with my mini-me would be limited to some degree, I’d skip eating at Rax to pass along five invaluable pieces of advice.
1. “Learn to play the guitar at all costs.” In fact, I would even take my younger self to go get a guitar and hire a teacher while we were at Al’s Music.
2 “Ditch the ‘side-part’ hairstyle pronto.” This would have prevented rejection from the fairer sex in years to come and numerous embarrassing photos from surfacing in high school.
3. “Do not waste your money on pogs, Magic cards or cassette tapes. Seriously.” I figure that with some better saving habits back then, I’d be nearing retirement today.
4. “Do not buy the following things on eBay: paintball gun; cardboard movie theater standee from the movie Willow; hockey skates; Reel Big Fish antenna ball; electric guitar; German car audio equipment.” This one is pretty much self-explanatory…
5. “Suck it up and start riding roller coasters.” I am deathly afraid of heights but also would like to ride a roller coaster before I die, a really sweet one with loops and zero-g’s and all that jazz.
That sums up what my first trip back in time would be like. Sure, it may lack the flair that many people would opt for, but this is my fantasy and I will not be censored!
Cheers and happy time traveling (eventually).
Listen up so you'll hear what I'm saying, because I'm not talking to myself or even praying.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Lots of Topics, Abridged
Annndddddd.... we're back! I have some exciting topics and ideas to share with ya'll (uh huh, I so went there) and hopefully it is as fun on paper... er foreign made computer screens and it appears to be in my head.
Disclaimer: You can take the kid out of the fight but you can't take the fight out of the kid. The same thing goes for growing up in a place like Pengilly and having dislexia.
U.S. Adventure!
Ok, so first things first: I want to get a "crew" together to do one of two things this August:
1. Go to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (henceforth BWCAW) for a week or so and enjoy the serenity and awe-inspiring nature of, well, nature! Multiples of 2 are preferable ("That's what she said!" -Michael Scott).
2. Canoe from Mpls./St.P. to New Orleans to raise money for a primary school or other facility in need. If we can just help one school get back on it's feet, it would be awesome. Plus, we would only be paddling down river-- it'd be easy! Even when we take breaks we'd still be flowing. Radical. I am serious about this one. It would take a LOT of planning and networking to get the fund raising thing going, but between you and me I'd absolutely kill at a telethon or other gimmicky event. The Hoffman *wink* is legendary on this continent and others, as well.
Meet the Jetsons!
I used the bank drive-thru the other day, which I haven't done in maybe 5 years, and was struck by something awesome (not literally, Screech)-- those tube mechanisms they have are AWESOME. Seriously, they almost make up for all of those lies the government told from 1776-now about us living on the moon and having hover cars and robots that can play the recorder. I would love to see fast food places put tubes in at table. They'd assign you to a table, you'd go sit and then WHOOOOOSSSHHH! here comes one heart-stopping super-sized value-meal with-fries, diet-coke, love-harmony. I like hyphens, so I tend to overuse them. Is it noticeable?
Anyway, other places that could use those things: bars, pet stores and car dealerships. Come on, how sweet would a tube big enough to whoooosh! a Honda to you be?! Yeah, you feel me, you feel me.
Comedic Timing Is So Hot Right Now!
I've been juggling the idea (not literally, Lisa Turtle) of trying out stand-up comedy some time. Not because I think I'd be good (I use a "fakey" voice when giving speeches and stuff... come across as weird? I dunno, but read on it gets better), but because the challenge would be fun to tackle. Literally this time, I mean I would go for the jugulars people.
Some ideas for content besides my go-to rant about bank tubes and how not having more whooshing going on in is just plain un-American are as follows:
~Everyone has a friend who always thinks it would be awesome for you or others to do stupid, difficult, expensive, or otherwise not-so-awesome things but never do it themselves. Like Chris Day, who physically prevented me from cutting my long, long hair for a spell sophomore year. These people might be like "Yeah, get a tattoo and then take those 5 mystery shots the hobos offered us for $2.41!" or "Extended warranty? How can you lose!" Damn it all, one of those shooters was Windex mixed with some very fine gravel and beard crumbs (hobos all have beards, even the women, because of evolution; they can keep people alive).
Europe '07
To brag, I am going to Munich at the end of March to meet up with a friend and do a bit of scampering about in Europe. Besides Munchen (how the hell does one make an umlaut on here?) I'll be going to Vienna, Bratislava (ever see "Euro Trip"?), Prague, Dresden, and some smaller cities to boot... das boot? Maybe, just maybe. There is a good to great chance that I'll eat doner kebabs (seriously, how do I make an umlaut on this? Prom?) served by Turkish guys and drinks beers larger than a baby emu (which are actually quite sizable birds, you know).
Wow.
Disclaimer: You can take the kid out of the fight but you can't take the fight out of the kid. The same thing goes for growing up in a place like Pengilly and having dislexia.
U.S. Adventure!
Ok, so first things first: I want to get a "crew" together to do one of two things this August:
1. Go to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (henceforth BWCAW) for a week or so and enjoy the serenity and awe-inspiring nature of, well, nature! Multiples of 2 are preferable ("That's what she said!" -Michael Scott).
2. Canoe from Mpls./St.P. to New Orleans to raise money for a primary school or other facility in need. If we can just help one school get back on it's feet, it would be awesome. Plus, we would only be paddling down river-- it'd be easy! Even when we take breaks we'd still be flowing. Radical. I am serious about this one. It would take a LOT of planning and networking to get the fund raising thing going, but between you and me I'd absolutely kill at a telethon or other gimmicky event. The Hoffman *wink* is legendary on this continent and others, as well.
Meet the Jetsons!
I used the bank drive-thru the other day, which I haven't done in maybe 5 years, and was struck by something awesome (not literally, Screech)-- those tube mechanisms they have are AWESOME. Seriously, they almost make up for all of those lies the government told from 1776-now about us living on the moon and having hover cars and robots that can play the recorder. I would love to see fast food places put tubes in at table. They'd assign you to a table, you'd go sit and then WHOOOOOSSSHHH! here comes one heart-stopping super-sized value-meal with-fries, diet-coke, love-harmony. I like hyphens, so I tend to overuse them. Is it noticeable?
Anyway, other places that could use those things: bars, pet stores and car dealerships. Come on, how sweet would a tube big enough to whoooosh! a Honda to you be?! Yeah, you feel me, you feel me.
Comedic Timing Is So Hot Right Now!
I've been juggling the idea (not literally, Lisa Turtle) of trying out stand-up comedy some time. Not because I think I'd be good (I use a "fakey" voice when giving speeches and stuff... come across as weird? I dunno, but read on it gets better), but because the challenge would be fun to tackle. Literally this time, I mean I would go for the jugulars people.
Some ideas for content besides my go-to rant about bank tubes and how not having more whooshing going on in is just plain un-American are as follows:
~Everyone has a friend who always thinks it would be awesome for you or others to do stupid, difficult, expensive, or otherwise not-so-awesome things but never do it themselves. Like Chris Day, who physically prevented me from cutting my long, long hair for a spell sophomore year. These people might be like "Yeah, get a tattoo and then take those 5 mystery shots the hobos offered us for $2.41!" or "Extended warranty? How can you lose!" Damn it all, one of those shooters was Windex mixed with some very fine gravel and beard crumbs (hobos all have beards, even the women, because of evolution; they can keep people alive).
Europe '07
To brag, I am going to Munich at the end of March to meet up with a friend and do a bit of scampering about in Europe. Besides Munchen (how the hell does one make an umlaut on here?) I'll be going to Vienna, Bratislava (ever see "Euro Trip"?), Prague, Dresden, and some smaller cities to boot... das boot? Maybe, just maybe. There is a good to great chance that I'll eat doner kebabs (seriously, how do I make an umlaut on this? Prom?) served by Turkish guys and drinks beers larger than a baby emu (which are actually quite sizable birds, you know).
Wow.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Trophies are Jacked-Up
I am a basketball referee sometimes and today during an inconsequential consolation championship game award ceremony (ahem, lame) I started thinking about the origins of trophies and why the hell we have them. I enjoyed moderate success as a youth athlete and have a lot of awards, medals, etc. lying around that just seem pointless now. If anything, I would have preferred one super-sized trophy to commemorate my mad hustle and effort over all the years of playing basketball and soccer.
Anyway, I like to think the first trophy was something like the leg or an animal or perhaps a really bad ass rock. Neanderthal hunter/gatherers most likely had very simplistic ceremonies where they tied the said leg to a vine or something before hanging around Ugluck's neck. Nice rocks would have been status symbols and could have been used to decorate caves and other dwelling places.
If we are going to be giving out awards to participants, not even winners, of youth sports, maybe society should be more liberal in the delving out of awards for other things. For example, paying with the exact change say, 100 times, should result in getting a pin or fancy patch that one can put on his/her book bag. Maybe parking in between the lines and in only one space, even if you have a really nice and/or jacked up car, could lead to gas coupons or a published interview in the local paper. Likewise, being able to tell someone what, exactly, a bushel or peck is would garner a nice prize, too.
If I could re-write history, I think that instead of trophies, pinatas would be mainstream. That would be, quite literally, sweet. As long as the candy was as full of preservatives as everything else, you could just hang them around the house and every so often dropkick and/or punch one in the face to let of steam or earn a tasty treat. Word!
~The Artist Formerly Known As Don Quixote, more recently known as TAFKADQ (pronounce that, suckers).
Strangely, it works better than I had initially thought it would-- Taf-Kad-Cue, I love it!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
The Wrongness of a Perfect Match
Alright, so amidst my reffing exploits this weekend, I came across something that pokes its head out from behind the fabric of normalcy once in a great while: the perfect matcher.
This guy looked like he was straight out o a low-budget white rapper's video. He was wearing the following, all adidas and all perfectly colour (go, Britannia!) coordinated.
Track jacket: Green with some stripes and whatnot, en vouge and pseudo hip-hopish.
Shoes: Adidas superstars with the middle green stripe on the shoes removed! Secondary colour (go, Britannia!) was green, as well. They were so white I had to look away, but I also did that to call a foul or something. I dunno, wasn't that focused.
Hat: Embroidered adidas trefoil logo (old school = awesome?), green of course.
Shirt: Surprise, surprise! Green adidas shirt.
Pants: Don't remember, maybe los jeans.
Anyway, I hate that look. The guy was a walking mannequin which, in theory and practice, scares the shit out of me. Mannequins are in that special creepiness category along with ventriloqist dummies and carnies, and also part-time professional clowns and some magicians. Keep your kids away, don't make extended eye contact and for the love of everything you hold sacred, do not give them a reason to talk to or at you. Yes, some clowns can be drunkards and yell a lot as a result. I know this because my brother parked cars for county fair patrons once.
Maybe it is just me, but wearing stuff that perfectly matches is... perfectly ridiculous! Get it the hell away from me. What's worse is that he probably got the idea from the same mannequin that 100 other pudgy guys with goatees did. Now we're one step away from an army of sameness that could rise up and smoke us in an instant.
Also, I think it'd be awesome if you were allowed to move people. Maybe enforce a set limit so you get around 3 moves per day, but it would be greta nonetheless. Is that even a word? Looks fake, like phone numbers ending in 9000. It would spice up life though.
Example: some guy is taking WAY too long to order a sub at Subway (happened to me today, it sucked). I would be able to throw him to the side and say "sorry sucker, I'm up!" It'd be radical. Oh, and you cannot move someone who just moved you. Another option: shove someone out of your way when trying to refill a beverage! Note: no moves can be used in the same vicinity as liquor. That'd be trouble. Pat kicked Paul down a flight of stairs, and I think it was because Paul was in his way.
Wasn't Zack Morris in high school for like 8 years? He was the original Van Wilder.
~Matthew
This guy looked like he was straight out o a low-budget white rapper's video. He was wearing the following, all adidas and all perfectly colour (go, Britannia!) coordinated.
Track jacket: Green with some stripes and whatnot, en vouge and pseudo hip-hopish.
Shoes: Adidas superstars with the middle green stripe on the shoes removed! Secondary colour (go, Britannia!) was green, as well. They were so white I had to look away, but I also did that to call a foul or something. I dunno, wasn't that focused.
Hat: Embroidered adidas trefoil logo (old school = awesome?), green of course.
Shirt: Surprise, surprise! Green adidas shirt.
Pants: Don't remember, maybe los jeans.
Anyway, I hate that look. The guy was a walking mannequin which, in theory and practice, scares the shit out of me. Mannequins are in that special creepiness category along with ventriloqist dummies and carnies, and also part-time professional clowns and some magicians. Keep your kids away, don't make extended eye contact and for the love of everything you hold sacred, do not give them a reason to talk to or at you. Yes, some clowns can be drunkards and yell a lot as a result. I know this because my brother parked cars for county fair patrons once.
Maybe it is just me, but wearing stuff that perfectly matches is... perfectly ridiculous! Get it the hell away from me. What's worse is that he probably got the idea from the same mannequin that 100 other pudgy guys with goatees did. Now we're one step away from an army of sameness that could rise up and smoke us in an instant.
Also, I think it'd be awesome if you were allowed to move people. Maybe enforce a set limit so you get around 3 moves per day, but it would be greta nonetheless. Is that even a word? Looks fake, like phone numbers ending in 9000. It would spice up life though.
Example: some guy is taking WAY too long to order a sub at Subway (happened to me today, it sucked). I would be able to throw him to the side and say "sorry sucker, I'm up!" It'd be radical. Oh, and you cannot move someone who just moved you. Another option: shove someone out of your way when trying to refill a beverage! Note: no moves can be used in the same vicinity as liquor. That'd be trouble. Pat kicked Paul down a flight of stairs, and I think it was because Paul was in his way.
Wasn't Zack Morris in high school for like 8 years? He was the original Van Wilder.
~Matthew
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
The Thumb War
Today I realized that the thumb is perhaps the most under appreciated part of the human body. Think about it-- it is basically the unanimous all-star of hand appendages. So here I am, trying to help that little chunk of a thing make a name for itself. Here's a quick definition:
thumb n. The short thick digit of the human hand, next to the index finger and opposable to each of the other four digits.
Now, men will agree that there are specific parts of the female form we are pseudo-connoisseurs of. You've got yor "ass men," "breast men," "leg men," the ever-so-picky "I like girls men," etc. Women are a bit more discerning, yes, but they usually dig one of the following more than the others when it comes to potential dating partners: Personality, money, hair, um calves... I dunno, really. Snuffaluffagus?
Think hard and realize this: No one out there exists who is unto thumbs. No one freaking cares about the thumb and it sickens me!
To use a sports analogy, the thumb is the offensive line of your hand's football team. Sure, Mr. Pointer is the stud quarterback all the toes, ie. women, are interested in. The ring finger is like the running back, who also happens to score a lot of toes off the field if you follow. Even the kicker, the tiny yet surprisingly strong pinky, gets ladies because he is semi-Euro and rocks the faux hawk like a champ when he isn't wearing a helmet. Of course, the middle finger is a big play wide receiver and has no trouble seducing toes with his bling and whatnot.
Then, we have the thumb. Grinding it out day in and day out, protecting the stars and getting no love. WE'D BE LOWER THAN MONKEYS (evolutionarily speaking) IF WE DIDN'T HAVE IT! So start taking care of him/her, the hustle has been there since day one.
As far as names go, "thumb" sucks. It rhymes with dumb and not much else. How do you think it feels about that?! The pointer finger is powerful and can flick stuff, hard. The middle finger, when used properly, becomes "flipping the bird" or saying "fuck you, man" to that guy who takes too long getting ketchup at a fast food place.
The thumb is critical in giving a thumbs-up, down, and the so-so sideways motions. It also plays a huge role in "hang lose" and "a-ok," which were very popular hand gestures in the early '90s.
Of course, it could be worse... toes don't even have names aside from the generic "big toe" and "little toe." Maybe I should start getting something worked into the legislature deigned to modify current school curriculum...
~Matt
Also, I am looking into adopting a parrot. I'd love to find a Senegal, though conures are great and I known of an eclectus names Simon that could be a good buddy to have around. Of course, nothing can happen until I move. Stay tuned for updates and PLEASE watch the following movies in the following sequence: "Rushmore," "The Royal Tenenbaums," "The Life Aquatic."
thumb n. The short thick digit of the human hand, next to the index finger and opposable to each of the other four digits.
Now, men will agree that there are specific parts of the female form we are pseudo-connoisseurs of. You've got yor "ass men," "breast men," "leg men," the ever-so-picky "I like girls men," etc. Women are a bit more discerning, yes, but they usually dig one of the following more than the others when it comes to potential dating partners: Personality, money, hair, um calves... I dunno, really. Snuffaluffagus?
Think hard and realize this: No one out there exists who is unto thumbs. No one freaking cares about the thumb and it sickens me!
To use a sports analogy, the thumb is the offensive line of your hand's football team. Sure, Mr. Pointer is the stud quarterback all the toes, ie. women, are interested in. The ring finger is like the running back, who also happens to score a lot of toes off the field if you follow. Even the kicker, the tiny yet surprisingly strong pinky, gets ladies because he is semi-Euro and rocks the faux hawk like a champ when he isn't wearing a helmet. Of course, the middle finger is a big play wide receiver and has no trouble seducing toes with his bling and whatnot.
Then, we have the thumb. Grinding it out day in and day out, protecting the stars and getting no love. WE'D BE LOWER THAN MONKEYS (evolutionarily speaking) IF WE DIDN'T HAVE IT! So start taking care of him/her, the hustle has been there since day one.
As far as names go, "thumb" sucks. It rhymes with dumb and not much else. How do you think it feels about that?! The pointer finger is powerful and can flick stuff, hard. The middle finger, when used properly, becomes "flipping the bird" or saying "fuck you, man" to that guy who takes too long getting ketchup at a fast food place.
The thumb is critical in giving a thumbs-up, down, and the so-so sideways motions. It also plays a huge role in "hang lose" and "a-ok," which were very popular hand gestures in the early '90s.
Of course, it could be worse... toes don't even have names aside from the generic "big toe" and "little toe." Maybe I should start getting something worked into the legislature deigned to modify current school curriculum...
~Matt
Also, I am looking into adopting a parrot. I'd love to find a Senegal, though conures are great and I known of an eclectus names Simon that could be a good buddy to have around. Of course, nothing can happen until I move. Stay tuned for updates and PLEASE watch the following movies in the following sequence: "Rushmore," "The Royal Tenenbaums," "The Life Aquatic."
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Sweet Nostalgia
The other day while I was busy making delectible cookies as per usual, I suddenly remembered one the the best things ever: maple leaf cookies! When I was not but a wee lad growing up on the rough and tumble South side of Saint Cloud, I used to eat them all the time. their general make-up: two maple leaf shaped cookies that sandwished amazing maple icing in the middle. I'd let those bad boys float in milk until right before they sank and would thn devour them. In that case, soggy did equal goodness.
I tried buying some right after work, though it was to no avail. It got me thinking... How many awesome things that I had as a kid no longer exist anymore? I've broken it down and compiled a list; someone has to get a committee started to bring these lost treasure back!
Category 1: Cartoons
After having worked at the Boys and Girls Club for 5 summers straight beginning in high school, I know a lot about the current fad cartoons and products. In particular, Pokemon was far and away the most popular thing and good ol' Talahi Elementary (where I worked) right after oxygen and slightly ahead of "accidents." Not only are the cartoons and movies huge, but there are around 31 video games involving Pokemon monsters and even a collectible card game (CCG) that kids spend $Benjamins on just to get holograms and other crap. Good job, Japan, you're ruining our country.
Back in the day, we had classics like Duck Tales, The Rescue Rangers (http://acan12.23.free.fr/rescue/images_index/logo.gif), Fraggle Rock (http://www.flimrigt.se/bilder/2006/03/fragglerock.jpg), G.I. Joe, Tale Spin, Count Duckula, David the freaking Gnome (Swift still rules!), etc. to entertain us. Sam omann sometimes reminded me of Wembley from Fraggle Rock, usually when he was really drunk or really hung over. It was fun. There were morals to the stories and we weren't bombarded with ads for cards or video games or anything-- it was all about the love, man. What the hell has happened here? I would still watch those non-seizure causing cartoons if they were on, but no, they have been set aside to make way for the new era of televison. I'll give you a clue... it sucks.
Category 2: Food + Libations
Dr. Slice was the money melon of soda pop. It was novel, had a sexy can with an orange slice on it that looked as though it was bursting with flavor, and never failed to satisfy (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/37/DrSlice.png). Why the hell was it discontinued? I once saw chocolate flavored pop someplace. If that can exist, why the hell can't Dr. Slice? I am forced to make it myself (57% D.P., 43% Slice) either from cans or by asking for a special blend at Burger Time in Waite Park. Let's just say on one occasion my request was confused for something else and I got a very "special" burger that made me see sounds and taste pictures...
A few other awesome beverages that were ripped from the shelves like the new ticke-Me-Elmo was this Christmas (though not by consumers, but by companies): Crystal Pepsi, Jolt (though I saw it in Ireland in Naas; note: never even tried it, but I respect that it existed), and O.K. Soda. I think my friend and I added about $103 to his phone bill by calling that hotline. What the hell, it was worth it!
Remember Astropops? They were the best. Multi-layered, part candy and part weapon. And totally necessary, especially in today's schools.
Note: Mr. Pibb is dead.
Category 3: Apparrel
Hypercolor shirts were awesome. I don't think anyone, not even the makers, knew what made them work. Still, it was an exciting time for everyone in grade school who was lucky enough to rock one at some point in their elementary tenure. Snap bracelets were fun. So what if they cut a few kids to the bone? They even had one with a zebra pattern. So cool... Wind pants were great, too, though if you went down in gym class, they'd get a hole burned in them and it would sometimes stick to your skin. People also had lightning bolts, lines, etc. shaved into their heads. Hell, I had Michael Jordan's "Jumpman" logo shaved into the back of my head in the 3rd grade. Funny thing is, that was a really solid move for me socially.
Kids today have no chance! They aren't interested in the science behind their clothes (I thank hypercolor over and over again for instilling that in me) and have crappy cartoons with no moral foundations in them. In Pokemon, kids learn to poach rare and exotic animals and then use them to fight! Isn't that illegal in this country, minus Alabama? Dr. Slice, while it may have been linked to early onset diabetes in children, was maybe even worth the risk. Mix one up per my directions and you'll see what I mean. I guess as long as I can track down those maple leaf cookies, this will all be an easier pill to swallow...
I tried buying some right after work, though it was to no avail. It got me thinking... How many awesome things that I had as a kid no longer exist anymore? I've broken it down and compiled a list; someone has to get a committee started to bring these lost treasure back!
Category 1: Cartoons
After having worked at the Boys and Girls Club for 5 summers straight beginning in high school, I know a lot about the current fad cartoons and products. In particular, Pokemon was far and away the most popular thing and good ol' Talahi Elementary (where I worked) right after oxygen and slightly ahead of "accidents." Not only are the cartoons and movies huge, but there are around 31 video games involving Pokemon monsters and even a collectible card game (CCG) that kids spend $Benjamins on just to get holograms and other crap. Good job, Japan, you're ruining our country.
Back in the day, we had classics like Duck Tales, The Rescue Rangers (http://acan12.23.free.fr/rescue/images_index/logo.gif), Fraggle Rock (http://www.flimrigt.se/bilder/2006/03/fragglerock.jpg), G.I. Joe, Tale Spin, Count Duckula, David the freaking Gnome (Swift still rules!), etc. to entertain us. Sam omann sometimes reminded me of Wembley from Fraggle Rock, usually when he was really drunk or really hung over. It was fun. There were morals to the stories and we weren't bombarded with ads for cards or video games or anything-- it was all about the love, man. What the hell has happened here? I would still watch those non-seizure causing cartoons if they were on, but no, they have been set aside to make way for the new era of televison. I'll give you a clue... it sucks.
Category 2: Food + Libations
Dr. Slice was the money melon of soda pop. It was novel, had a sexy can with an orange slice on it that looked as though it was bursting with flavor, and never failed to satisfy (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/37/DrSlice.png). Why the hell was it discontinued? I once saw chocolate flavored pop someplace. If that can exist, why the hell can't Dr. Slice? I am forced to make it myself (57% D.P., 43% Slice) either from cans or by asking for a special blend at Burger Time in Waite Park. Let's just say on one occasion my request was confused for something else and I got a very "special" burger that made me see sounds and taste pictures...
A few other awesome beverages that were ripped from the shelves like the new ticke-Me-Elmo was this Christmas (though not by consumers, but by companies): Crystal Pepsi, Jolt (though I saw it in Ireland in Naas; note: never even tried it, but I respect that it existed), and O.K. Soda. I think my friend and I added about $103 to his phone bill by calling that hotline. What the hell, it was worth it!
Remember Astropops? They were the best. Multi-layered, part candy and part weapon. And totally necessary, especially in today's schools.
Note: Mr. Pibb is dead.
Category 3: Apparrel
Hypercolor shirts were awesome. I don't think anyone, not even the makers, knew what made them work. Still, it was an exciting time for everyone in grade school who was lucky enough to rock one at some point in their elementary tenure. Snap bracelets were fun. So what if they cut a few kids to the bone? They even had one with a zebra pattern. So cool... Wind pants were great, too, though if you went down in gym class, they'd get a hole burned in them and it would sometimes stick to your skin. People also had lightning bolts, lines, etc. shaved into their heads. Hell, I had Michael Jordan's "Jumpman" logo shaved into the back of my head in the 3rd grade. Funny thing is, that was a really solid move for me socially.
Kids today have no chance! They aren't interested in the science behind their clothes (I thank hypercolor over and over again for instilling that in me) and have crappy cartoons with no moral foundations in them. In Pokemon, kids learn to poach rare and exotic animals and then use them to fight! Isn't that illegal in this country, minus Alabama? Dr. Slice, while it may have been linked to early onset diabetes in children, was maybe even worth the risk. Mix one up per my directions and you'll see what I mean. I guess as long as I can track down those maple leaf cookies, this will all be an easier pill to swallow...
Friday, January 26, 2007
My Uncle Dominates!
Here is my big news out of San Diego... I obviously heard it through my aunt before it was released, but my uncle has been named the new offensive coordinator of the San Diego Chargers, a perennial AFC powerhouse. Prior to that, he had been a running backs coach for the Rams, Seahawks and Cowboys. He also coached extensively in the college ranks (including USC) before making the jump to the NFL.
One reason I am so impressed by Clarence is that he is a totally self-made man. Growing up with 11 siblings and living in a one or two bedroom apartment without a father, I cannot imagine how he made it to where he is today. It really speaks volumes about the power of positive thought and committment. After playing DI football at Houston and then getting drafted and subsequently injured in training camp, he decided to start coaching.
Here is the link at on ESPN Online: http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=2743571
Woop woop, go Chargers!
One reason I am so impressed by Clarence is that he is a totally self-made man. Growing up with 11 siblings and living in a one or two bedroom apartment without a father, I cannot imagine how he made it to where he is today. It really speaks volumes about the power of positive thought and committment. After playing DI football at Houston and then getting drafted and subsequently injured in training camp, he decided to start coaching.
Here is the link at on ESPN Online: http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=2743571
Woop woop, go Chargers!
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Phrase Origins, Part 1 (*click here)
Ok, so Patty Mac gave me the sexy idea to discuss how certain phrases came to be. Of course, there are a shit ton of them used everyday that make absolutely zero sense, so this will be an ongoing dealy-o.
Today's phrase: "It's on the house!"
When taken in a literal sense, "it's on the house" is crazy. When someone says that to you, it sounds as though they are answering a question. The only thing is, no question was asked. Thus, the inventor of the term, we'll call him/her "Crazy Pills" McGee, probably had some issues.
After some intense and thorough research (by the by, thorough is a fun word to type), I've discovered the origin of this catchy and ever-so-trendy terminology. It begins in the Old country...
Back when global warming wasn't even a theory and Galileo was still a household word, people did not have a lot going on. TV didn't exist and even 8-tracks were a few hundred years off. To pass the time, people fought religious wars (unlike today, where we fight for oil and, uh, peace) and watched the fire burn. Sometimes, weird colors were seen like green or blue. Neat.
Anyway, men wore a mich higher percentage of checkered clothing. As sales were high, the merchants who sold these particular items had pretty cramped conditions because, as they were being good entrepreneurs, they produced as many wearables as they could manage. The wooden looms they all used became hot.
If, for some reason, a customer could not find the particular checkered color pattern or weave he desired, it was customary to give the person a discount. However, many ruffians and scoundrels (think Han Solo/ Lando Calrissian types) took advantage of this practice and lied to save money.
Savvy shop keeps were quick to store the items to be sold at a discount out of reach, therefore deterring the hooligans from running their profits into the ground. Here's a typical dialogue exchange:
Shop Keep Tom: Hello, sir! finding everything okay?
Old Country Lando: Erm, no way sir! I want something in a periwinkle with a gray-green blend, horizontal weave and I only wear alpaca and, um, rhinocerous.
Shop Keep Tom: Oh, I see. Ok, well you can have a 24% discount on anything in the section, um, on the house.
Old Country Lando: Say what? My gear is up on the rizzle (or "roof")? (Note: Ebonics are closely tied to late 18th century burgeoisie slang).
Shop Keep Tom: Yes, it's on the house my pizzle (or "pauperish man).
Now, as for how casinos came to be known as "the house" in certain games of chance, like poker or roulette, is the true mystery. Join me next time for "Phrase Origins, Part 2."
~MJH
And yes, this was a pretty bad post. I got kinda bored through the middle and then watching some American Idol with my dad. Man, more people need to be heavily medicated than I thought... why did I pass on psychiatry again?
Today's phrase: "It's on the house!"
When taken in a literal sense, "it's on the house" is crazy. When someone says that to you, it sounds as though they are answering a question. The only thing is, no question was asked. Thus, the inventor of the term, we'll call him/her "Crazy Pills" McGee, probably had some issues.
After some intense and thorough research (by the by, thorough is a fun word to type), I've discovered the origin of this catchy and ever-so-trendy terminology. It begins in the Old country...
Back when global warming wasn't even a theory and Galileo was still a household word, people did not have a lot going on. TV didn't exist and even 8-tracks were a few hundred years off. To pass the time, people fought religious wars (unlike today, where we fight for oil and, uh, peace) and watched the fire burn. Sometimes, weird colors were seen like green or blue. Neat.
Anyway, men wore a mich higher percentage of checkered clothing. As sales were high, the merchants who sold these particular items had pretty cramped conditions because, as they were being good entrepreneurs, they produced as many wearables as they could manage. The wooden looms they all used became hot.
If, for some reason, a customer could not find the particular checkered color pattern or weave he desired, it was customary to give the person a discount. However, many ruffians and scoundrels (think Han Solo/ Lando Calrissian types) took advantage of this practice and lied to save money.
Savvy shop keeps were quick to store the items to be sold at a discount out of reach, therefore deterring the hooligans from running their profits into the ground. Here's a typical dialogue exchange:
Shop Keep Tom: Hello, sir! finding everything okay?
Old Country Lando: Erm, no way sir! I want something in a periwinkle with a gray-green blend, horizontal weave and I only wear alpaca and, um, rhinocerous.
Shop Keep Tom: Oh, I see. Ok, well you can have a 24% discount on anything in the section, um, on the house.
Old Country Lando: Say what? My gear is up on the rizzle (or "roof")? (Note: Ebonics are closely tied to late 18th century burgeoisie slang).
Shop Keep Tom: Yes, it's on the house my pizzle (or "pauperish man).
Now, as for how casinos came to be known as "the house" in certain games of chance, like poker or roulette, is the true mystery. Join me next time for "Phrase Origins, Part 2."
~MJH
And yes, this was a pretty bad post. I got kinda bored through the middle and then watching some American Idol with my dad. Man, more people need to be heavily medicated than I thought... why did I pass on psychiatry again?
Monday, January 22, 2007
A Retrospective Of My Insanity (or Brilliance?)
The following letter was sent by me to Just Born Incorporated, makers of Mike and Ike candies (as well as Peeps, Zours and a few other things). It came up last Saturday in the late AM/early PM as a few friends and I were eating at Perkins.
Note: Scramblers are good and you get a lottery ticket-like item for buying one! I got an "MB," as did Edgar, but if we can get organized and form a group dedicated to completeing the word "SC-RA-MB-LE-R" or something... there is $25 GR in it for us. Also, Prom is excempt from joining because he resufed to buy one.
Anyway, here's the letter. Please keep in mind that they sent me a question-specific response package that contained a lot of free stuff. Just food (er, candy) for thought! Also, I guess I a't used the ampersand symbol (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ampersand), so that's awesome.
"To whom it may concern:
I am a college student at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, MN. Although I am a huge fan of most candied items, Just Born Inc. sits at the top of my list, as it has for some time. Going back through my earlier years, Mike and Ike candies have always been there to satisfy my sweet tooth. Movies, bus rides and driving to various vacation destinations with my family all have one commonality: I make sure that I have some Mike and Ike candy along. The value, taste, and flavors are all excellent. The addition of such flavors as Cherry Cola and the crème combinations were simply brilliant in my eyes. Hot Tamales are nearly a staple for my sister, and I, too, enjoy the cinnamon taste explosion found in every box of them!
I do have a few concerns with the direction I perceive the Just Born family to be taking the Mike and Ike franchise. First and foremost, I feel that several classic flavors have been wrongfully terminated. Lem and Mel and Cherry and Bub come to mind. Talking to a few friends, they remembered the aforementioned flavors and commented that they, too, missed them. I’m not familiar with the financial status of Just Born, but I feel that if flavors such as Buttered Popcorn can be added, the decadent combinations of lemon and melon as well as cherry and bubblegum should return to the line-up after spending so much undeserved time on the sidelines, if you will.
Reminiscing about Jolly Joes, I fondly recall how they were both united with Mike and Ike candies as well as apart from them. Primarily, I found it interesting that instead of the large Mike and Ike insignia, it said Jolly Joes with a smaller Mike and Ike below it, serving a secondary role. Jolly Joes deserve separate recognition, as they are the only candy in this genre to have a single flavor in a box (one may make the argument that Cherry Cola, for example, is a single flavor, but it is actually two: cherry and cola). On the new packaging of the candy, the jovial mascot one couples with Jolly Joes is nonexistent! This simply boggles my mind. From my viewpoint, it seems that the grape flavor is flourishing and should be given the status it deserves, the large Jolly Joe insignia written on the packaging and the return of Joe himself.
In regards to packaging, I was shocked to discover the implementation of plastic bags for the Mike and Ike candies at my local convenience mart. The classic look of boxed Mike and Ike flavors was a unique trademark held down by Just Born Inc. for as long as I can remember. The bags make the candy seem cheap and mass produced, stripping away the “hand-crafted” feel of the attractive looking boxes I have come to know, love, and expect from Just Born.
I wish to close with a quote I hope you will find pertinent to my comments regarding the flavor and box changes: "The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire." I feel that this quote by Field Marshal Ferdinand Foch has accurately depicted my sentiments to the changes I highlighted that Just Born Inc. has made over the last several years. Although I absolutely love the products that make up the Just Born family, I feel that “tough love” on my part may incite some change that will be for the better.
My absolute best regards,
Matthew J. Hoffman, Esquire"
~"Sparkle Sparkle" (my least common and least known nickname... I sense a strong positive correlation there. Someone run the numbers! But not Patrick, he already found me more information on owning and loving a monkey than everyone else put together!)
Anyway, here's the letter. Please keep in mind that they sent me a question-specific response package that contained a lot of free stuff. Just food (er, candy) for thought! Also, I guess I a't used the ampersand symbol (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ampersand), so that's awesome.
"To whom it may concern:
I am a college student at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, MN. Although I am a huge fan of most candied items, Just Born Inc. sits at the top of my list, as it has for some time. Going back through my earlier years, Mike and Ike candies have always been there to satisfy my sweet tooth. Movies, bus rides and driving to various vacation destinations with my family all have one commonality: I make sure that I have some Mike and Ike candy along. The value, taste, and flavors are all excellent. The addition of such flavors as Cherry Cola and the crème combinations were simply brilliant in my eyes. Hot Tamales are nearly a staple for my sister, and I, too, enjoy the cinnamon taste explosion found in every box of them!
I do have a few concerns with the direction I perceive the Just Born family to be taking the Mike and Ike franchise. First and foremost, I feel that several classic flavors have been wrongfully terminated. Lem and Mel and Cherry and Bub come to mind. Talking to a few friends, they remembered the aforementioned flavors and commented that they, too, missed them. I’m not familiar with the financial status of Just Born, but I feel that if flavors such as Buttered Popcorn can be added, the decadent combinations of lemon and melon as well as cherry and bubblegum should return to the line-up after spending so much undeserved time on the sidelines, if you will.
Reminiscing about Jolly Joes, I fondly recall how they were both united with Mike and Ike candies as well as apart from them. Primarily, I found it interesting that instead of the large Mike and Ike insignia, it said Jolly Joes with a smaller Mike and Ike below it, serving a secondary role. Jolly Joes deserve separate recognition, as they are the only candy in this genre to have a single flavor in a box (one may make the argument that Cherry Cola, for example, is a single flavor, but it is actually two: cherry and cola). On the new packaging of the candy, the jovial mascot one couples with Jolly Joes is nonexistent! This simply boggles my mind. From my viewpoint, it seems that the grape flavor is flourishing and should be given the status it deserves, the large Jolly Joe insignia written on the packaging and the return of Joe himself.
In regards to packaging, I was shocked to discover the implementation of plastic bags for the Mike and Ike candies at my local convenience mart. The classic look of boxed Mike and Ike flavors was a unique trademark held down by Just Born Inc. for as long as I can remember. The bags make the candy seem cheap and mass produced, stripping away the “hand-crafted” feel of the attractive looking boxes I have come to know, love, and expect from Just Born.
I wish to close with a quote I hope you will find pertinent to my comments regarding the flavor and box changes: "The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire." I feel that this quote by Field Marshal Ferdinand Foch has accurately depicted my sentiments to the changes I highlighted that Just Born Inc. has made over the last several years. Although I absolutely love the products that make up the Just Born family, I feel that “tough love” on my part may incite some change that will be for the better.
My absolute best regards,
Matthew J. Hoffman, Esquire"
~"Sparkle Sparkle" (my least common and least known nickname... I sense a strong positive correlation there. Someone run the numbers! But not Patrick, he already found me more information on owning and loving a monkey than everyone else put together!)
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Crazy? Yeah, crazy like a fox!
As an animal lover, I have spent a lot of time wondering what pet I should get once I move to Bloomington. Assuming I'm allowed to have any kind of pet I want, I have narrowed it down to three options that excite me to no end.
In no particular order:
1.) A senegal parrot named "Skibb," short for Skibbereen in County Cork, Ireland. Senegal parrots are little feathery balls of fun and were the original pirate parrots, hence making them sweet by definition.
2.) A cat named "Dodgy Pete II," although I'd probably drop the II because although there was an original D.P., he was only in my posession for around 48 hours and really did nothing great to earn himself such a fantastic name.
3.) A monkey named Capt. Fantastic OR Dr. Danger, and her first name would be Q. I say it would be a she because if anyone has ever watched the hit TV show "Friends," you may recall how Ross had to get rid of his spider monkey, Marcel, because it became too agressive and tried to mate with people's legs. I think there was a lot of biting, too.
I really feel that any of these options would be great, though schematically the monkey might have to be ruled out. Still, I'd like feedback. A monkey would be awesome because they can drink beer and smoke cigars. Also, she could wear power suits or something and even a headband... Wow, there are so many possibilities. Where can I procure a monkey, anyway? Someone do the necessary legwork and I'll follow through after I finish one or more of the following:
1.) My children's book.
2.) My Real World application video (note: need a haircut and more sex appeal, plus a newish digital camcorder to make the magic happen).
3.) Kick-off tour with my techno group, Survive Style 5, or else with my 2nd band side-project, sound/fury. Nick Savage is the /.
Goodnight and prepare for some big news coming out of San Diego, which as anyone who watches movies knows is German for "whale's vagina." And no, I can't make this stuff up.
~Matty "Styles" Spangler
In no particular order:
1.) A senegal parrot named "Skibb," short for Skibbereen in County Cork, Ireland. Senegal parrots are little feathery balls of fun and were the original pirate parrots, hence making them sweet by definition.
2.) A cat named "Dodgy Pete II," although I'd probably drop the II because although there was an original D.P., he was only in my posession for around 48 hours and really did nothing great to earn himself such a fantastic name.
3.) A monkey named Capt. Fantastic OR Dr. Danger, and her first name would be Q. I say it would be a she because if anyone has ever watched the hit TV show "Friends," you may recall how Ross had to get rid of his spider monkey, Marcel, because it became too agressive and tried to mate with people's legs. I think there was a lot of biting, too.
I really feel that any of these options would be great, though schematically the monkey might have to be ruled out. Still, I'd like feedback. A monkey would be awesome because they can drink beer and smoke cigars. Also, she could wear power suits or something and even a headband... Wow, there are so many possibilities. Where can I procure a monkey, anyway? Someone do the necessary legwork and I'll follow through after I finish one or more of the following:
1.) My children's book.
2.) My Real World application video (note: need a haircut and more sex appeal, plus a newish digital camcorder to make the magic happen).
3.) Kick-off tour with my techno group, Survive Style 5, or else with my 2nd band side-project, sound/fury. Nick Savage is the /.
Goodnight and prepare for some big news coming out of San Diego, which as anyone who watches movies knows is German for "whale's vagina." And no, I can't make this stuff up.
~Matty "Styles" Spangler
Thursday, January 18, 2007
A Prize for a Cereal Box of Acceptance-O's
When you think of a metalhead, tell me what comes to mind? Stone-washed jeans or a mullet, maybe a guy who's evolutionarily one step behind? Well, when Rob Halford (lead singer of Judas Priest) came out of the closet, it may not have been a big thing. But today, we're one step closer to hearing the metal dudes sing, "I wanna be, I wanna be a homosexual!"
Statistics say the chance of being gay is more than one in ten. That means that there's a 40%chance that one of the guys in Pantera likes men! So I think it's safe to say that many more metal guys are homosexual, though this may frustrate the gay community. Why would they want some ugly metalhead to be available?
See, I told you! Metal dudes are gay, too. And I haven't seen the proof so far that your sexuality determines the way you play guitar. I'd love for everyone in heavy metal to be homosexual, if only to make those Nazi fucking pricks in Slayer just a little more uncomfortable.
~Matt, as he drinks a 600 mL bottle of Harbin, a delicious Chinese lager beer.
Note: Content adapted from the song "Hats Off to Halford" by the one-man band Atom & His Package, though it reiterates the stance I've had in numerous conversations with Matt "Death Metal Or Die" Prom and Ali "Ozzy" O'Brom.
Statistics say the chance of being gay is more than one in ten. That means that there's a 40%chance that one of the guys in Pantera likes men! So I think it's safe to say that many more metal guys are homosexual, though this may frustrate the gay community. Why would they want some ugly metalhead to be available?
See, I told you! Metal dudes are gay, too. And I haven't seen the proof so far that your sexuality determines the way you play guitar. I'd love for everyone in heavy metal to be homosexual, if only to make those Nazi fucking pricks in Slayer just a little more uncomfortable.
~Matt, as he drinks a 600 mL bottle of Harbin, a delicious Chinese lager beer.
Note: Content adapted from the song "Hats Off to Halford" by the one-man band Atom & His Package, though it reiterates the stance I've had in numerous conversations with Matt "Death Metal Or Die" Prom and Ali "Ozzy" O'Brom.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Somalia is on the phone, do you accept the charges?!
My cousin from D.C. was in town over the weekend and while I was at the infamous Red Carpet with her and my sister, we met a guy from the Ivory Coast. He was cool and knew a lot about soccer. Also, he is not exactly relevant to my story though his huge bling was shaped like the continent of Africa and I correctly identified where the Cote d' Ivore (French spell check?) is located.
After trying super hard to get a cab post-Erbert's & Gerbert's action, we finally succeeded. Our driver was a Somalian guy. He was a nice and also talked soccer with me. He reminded me of the Somalians I used to talk to on a semi-regular basis over the past 18 months or so.
I got my first cell phone in late July '05 before my senior year at SJU started. I was finally cool (and that lasted until about 37 minutes later). Anyway, I started getting calls almost right away and the people would either speak in a language I didn't know (which is all of them except some English) or ask about the money I owed them. This did not bode well, as I was expecting to feel loved and embraced as a result of my new technology, not confused and harassed.
After awhile and a series of phone calls on my behalf, I found out that the number T-Mobile gave me had previously been that of an Ahmed Muhammed. Now, I can't say for certain, but besides owing money to companies based in Texas and So. Cal., he had a lot of Somalian friends in the Twin Cities and, yes, Somalia. I felt like he had a good thing going (though it killed my minutes, he may have had a sweet plan or some kind of calling card system).
At any rate, I learned that blindly answering calls in the 3-5AM range is, as a general rule, a bad move. Even though that wouldn't count as "peak time" for someone in the CMT, I think it did since I answered calls coming from Somalia, assuming I figured out the time difference correctly. That damn quadratic formula always gets me, though...
An example conversation:
Me: Uh, he-hello?
Somalian person: Hey, somthing something, word that sounds like "bacon," something something.
Me: No Ahmed, me sleepy!
Note: I don't now why I began to speak to them in broken English... or in a slower, louder way than normal but I did. It was our thing. And hey, maybe they were speaking to me slowly and louder than normal, too. Isn't that a univeral go-to move when someone can't understand what the hell you're saying to them?
You know, the little things you hate about your cell service are the same things you come to miss. I don't get any more random calls now, and while I guess I like a lot of things about Sprint, I just don't love them. Ya know? Oh well, time to listen to Duran Duran, The Cure, The Clash and Cheap Trick.
"Surrender" is STILL a mega hit, I don't care what the hell McCarty said... he was probably drunk!
~Matt
After trying super hard to get a cab post-Erbert's & Gerbert's action, we finally succeeded. Our driver was a Somalian guy. He was a nice and also talked soccer with me. He reminded me of the Somalians I used to talk to on a semi-regular basis over the past 18 months or so.
I got my first cell phone in late July '05 before my senior year at SJU started. I was finally cool (and that lasted until about 37 minutes later). Anyway, I started getting calls almost right away and the people would either speak in a language I didn't know (which is all of them except some English) or ask about the money I owed them. This did not bode well, as I was expecting to feel loved and embraced as a result of my new technology, not confused and harassed.
After awhile and a series of phone calls on my behalf, I found out that the number T-Mobile gave me had previously been that of an Ahmed Muhammed. Now, I can't say for certain, but besides owing money to companies based in Texas and So. Cal., he had a lot of Somalian friends in the Twin Cities and, yes, Somalia. I felt like he had a good thing going (though it killed my minutes, he may have had a sweet plan or some kind of calling card system).
At any rate, I learned that blindly answering calls in the 3-5AM range is, as a general rule, a bad move. Even though that wouldn't count as "peak time" for someone in the CMT, I think it did since I answered calls coming from Somalia, assuming I figured out the time difference correctly. That damn quadratic formula always gets me, though...
An example conversation:
Me: Uh, he-hello?
Somalian person: Hey, somthing something, word that sounds like "bacon," something something.
Me: No Ahmed, me sleepy!
Note: I don't now why I began to speak to them in broken English... or in a slower, louder way than normal but I did. It was our thing. And hey, maybe they were speaking to me slowly and louder than normal, too. Isn't that a univeral go-to move when someone can't understand what the hell you're saying to them?
You know, the little things you hate about your cell service are the same things you come to miss. I don't get any more random calls now, and while I guess I like a lot of things about Sprint, I just don't love them. Ya know? Oh well, time to listen to Duran Duran, The Cure, The Clash and Cheap Trick.
"Surrender" is STILL a mega hit, I don't care what the hell McCarty said... he was probably drunk!
~Matt
Monday, January 15, 2007
Time, Hootie & The Blowfish Style
In 58 minutes, it will be the one year anniversary of my mother's death. There was a time and place where I never thought even a week would separate me from that event, let alone a calendar year. Time is funny that way. A workday can seem like an eternity, yet an evening out mixing it up can feel as short as a commercial break (though thanks to Tivo, I am slowly forgetting the feeling).
I remember being completely numb and stuck. I liken it to having the same faculties as a baby yet being able to think hoe I do now. A capable mind that is just trapped inside a helpless shell. On the album "Deja Entendu" by Brand New, a certain song has lyrics that put my state of being at that horrible time in words too poetic to be my own:
"Every minute is a mile/ I've never felt so hollow/ I'm an old, abandoned church with broken pews and empty aisles"
I suppose no one ever does well to live in the past, but what else can one do when his memories of someone only exist in that place? Life is just so damn fleeting... maybe this is my 1/4 life crisis talking, but I already feel like I've wasted so much of it on trivial things.
In the end, all we have to show for our existence is the way we've affected and changed other people.
~Matt
And yes, smoking kills...
I remember being completely numb and stuck. I liken it to having the same faculties as a baby yet being able to think hoe I do now. A capable mind that is just trapped inside a helpless shell. On the album "Deja Entendu" by Brand New, a certain song has lyrics that put my state of being at that horrible time in words too poetic to be my own:
"Every minute is a mile/ I've never felt so hollow/ I'm an old, abandoned church with broken pews and empty aisles"
I suppose no one ever does well to live in the past, but what else can one do when his memories of someone only exist in that place? Life is just so damn fleeting... maybe this is my 1/4 life crisis talking, but I already feel like I've wasted so much of it on trivial things.
In the end, all we have to show for our existence is the way we've affected and changed other people.
~Matt
And yes, smoking kills...
Thursday, January 11, 2007
The City of Angels, Braille and Sealand: A Primer
The City of Angels!
Los Angeles, CA is a wonderul place. Besides smog that leaves a residue on your skin, they have a lot of sports teams in the area. The LA Dodgers may not be that good, but they are going to be bringing in tons of chunky fans this coming season as they have created a veranda in right field that, for $40, gives you admittance to the game and ALL YOU CAN EAT "Dodger Dogs" and peanuts as well as unlimited pop refills and even cotton candy, I think. Wow, just what Cleatus and Billy May need! Maybe the Twins should get something set-up where the whole shebang is blended and injected straight into one's veins. Seriously, people, if hearts could talk they'd swear like Scotsmen.
The LA Galaxy, an MLS (Major League Soccer) franchise, just signed England native and world soccer icon David Beckham to a $250 million, 5 year deal. This has been on the horizon for awhile and I suspected just such a move considering the MLS implemented a rule, called the "David Beckham Rule," where a team can sign a non-American player to a contract of an infinite amount that does not affect their salary cap. On a side note, he insured is right leg several years ago for something like $10 million dollars. Does this guy bathe in Irish cream liquor? Victoria Beckham should just change her name to Posh Spice, it is a lot more LA and would suit her well if she ever delved into the glamorous world of porn.
Braille!
Braille was devised in 1821 by Frenchman Louis Braille. Somehow, I see it everywhere and never know how blind people find it. Hotel room number signs in hallways always have braille, yet I don't think they are set to a standardized height and I've never seen a blind person groping a wall, trying to find out which room their frickin' key card won't open. Braille even exists on drive-thru ATMs, if you can believe it. If I ever see a guy taking his sweet time again, I'll assume he is legally blind and using the braille on the keypad to complete his transaction. Now, if he could just remember his PIN... Scary.
The next obvious step for braille: vending machines. Why should the blind be discriminated against when they are trying to choose a savory snack? There is no rhyme or reason to how items in those damn behemoths (that sometimes crush those of use who fight back against them) are arranged, and pushing the wrong number can lead to something shitty, like those licorice bags that have been there since 1988, instead of peanut M&M's or a Milky Way Bar w/ Almonds (sexy good!).
Sealand: A Primer!
Sealand was "founded" in 1967 by some angry British war veteran. Basically, the entire principality consists of two concrete towers that rise out of the ocean 6 miles off the coast of England. A bulding rests on top of them and it used to be an anti-aircraft site or something and was built for WWII. The guy just decided to move in one day. He's even had to fight off attacks and the like from countries trying to take him over (England and one other place, like Sweden I think). Anyway, this dude and his family might sell the place and it could be used for offshore gambling, banking or (suspense build up... now!) monkey knife fights. If the latter occurs, I'm so there. We can charter a boat if enough people show interest!
Here is a link to a photo: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Sealand_fortress.jpg
I like that guy's style and think I'll try to pry some acreage in the Yukon away from Canada. There, I could make maple syrup, wear beaver skin boots and become a sudoku master. Or, I'd go crazy and kill myself... Or, more likely, I'd befriend the Yeti and learn his ways. Then, we'd start a lucrative business mining gems (which are semiprecious stones, of course). He'd be the muscle and I'd be the slick salesman who, after struggling for around 5 years, comes to blame the product and quits.
Go, Chargers!
~Matt Hoffman, the next Prince of Sealand (?). Alas, I would still need a damsel worthy of becoming my queen...
Edgar: Have fun in Puerto Rico, jerk. You never take me anywhere anymore, not since Jaime entered the scene. Conch shell it up!
Los Angeles, CA is a wonderul place. Besides smog that leaves a residue on your skin, they have a lot of sports teams in the area. The LA Dodgers may not be that good, but they are going to be bringing in tons of chunky fans this coming season as they have created a veranda in right field that, for $40, gives you admittance to the game and ALL YOU CAN EAT "Dodger Dogs" and peanuts as well as unlimited pop refills and even cotton candy, I think. Wow, just what Cleatus and Billy May need! Maybe the Twins should get something set-up where the whole shebang is blended and injected straight into one's veins. Seriously, people, if hearts could talk they'd swear like Scotsmen.
The LA Galaxy, an MLS (Major League Soccer) franchise, just signed England native and world soccer icon David Beckham to a $250 million, 5 year deal. This has been on the horizon for awhile and I suspected just such a move considering the MLS implemented a rule, called the "David Beckham Rule," where a team can sign a non-American player to a contract of an infinite amount that does not affect their salary cap. On a side note, he insured is right leg several years ago for something like $10 million dollars. Does this guy bathe in Irish cream liquor? Victoria Beckham should just change her name to Posh Spice, it is a lot more LA and would suit her well if she ever delved into the glamorous world of porn.
Braille!
Braille was devised in 1821 by Frenchman Louis Braille. Somehow, I see it everywhere and never know how blind people find it. Hotel room number signs in hallways always have braille, yet I don't think they are set to a standardized height and I've never seen a blind person groping a wall, trying to find out which room their frickin' key card won't open. Braille even exists on drive-thru ATMs, if you can believe it. If I ever see a guy taking his sweet time again, I'll assume he is legally blind and using the braille on the keypad to complete his transaction. Now, if he could just remember his PIN... Scary.
The next obvious step for braille: vending machines. Why should the blind be discriminated against when they are trying to choose a savory snack? There is no rhyme or reason to how items in those damn behemoths (that sometimes crush those of use who fight back against them) are arranged, and pushing the wrong number can lead to something shitty, like those licorice bags that have been there since 1988, instead of peanut M&M's or a Milky Way Bar w/ Almonds (sexy good!).
Sealand: A Primer!
Sealand was "founded" in 1967 by some angry British war veteran. Basically, the entire principality consists of two concrete towers that rise out of the ocean 6 miles off the coast of England. A bulding rests on top of them and it used to be an anti-aircraft site or something and was built for WWII. The guy just decided to move in one day. He's even had to fight off attacks and the like from countries trying to take him over (England and one other place, like Sweden I think). Anyway, this dude and his family might sell the place and it could be used for offshore gambling, banking or (suspense build up... now!) monkey knife fights. If the latter occurs, I'm so there. We can charter a boat if enough people show interest!
Here is a link to a photo: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Sealand_fortress.jpg
I like that guy's style and think I'll try to pry some acreage in the Yukon away from Canada. There, I could make maple syrup, wear beaver skin boots and become a sudoku master. Or, I'd go crazy and kill myself... Or, more likely, I'd befriend the Yeti and learn his ways. Then, we'd start a lucrative business mining gems (which are semiprecious stones, of course). He'd be the muscle and I'd be the slick salesman who, after struggling for around 5 years, comes to blame the product and quits.
Go, Chargers!
~Matt Hoffman, the next Prince of Sealand (?). Alas, I would still need a damsel worthy of becoming my queen...
Edgar: Have fun in Puerto Rico, jerk. You never take me anywhere anymore, not since Jaime entered the scene. Conch shell it up!
Sunday, January 7, 2007
the devil and god are raging inside me
got home from florida around 10:30. heated some mac + cheese and watched 'the office' before finding a moive on the We network-- 'girl, interrupted.' it was good and i am at that particular level of tiredness where i know that i will faaalllllll fast asleep in about a minute. when i am this tired, i feel that i somehow gain a high level of clarity, however inexplicable that may be. winona ryder is in that movie and she writes a lot, especially towards the end. lots of lead (er graphite) was spilled on the road to becoming herself once more.
i like happy endings.
i got mail while i was away. a new, larger memory card for germany + prague and an album, a brand new album. by that, i mean an album by the band 'brand new' that, coincidentally, is not brand new but some kind of promo cd i bought online at a reduced rate. it is called 'the devil and god are raging inside me.' i am waiting to listen to it until i have some daylight, a fresh shower and some socks on. i think it will highlight the duality of being human, of the battle within us between sins and sainthood.
nothing we say will ever mean anything unless it meant something when we said it. brand new has a song on their sophomore release in which the lyrics read 'everyone who lives will someday die and die alone.' death is something we will all experience and cannot share with one another, just as we cannot compare levels of emotion.
i didn't make new year's resolutions when the clock counted down (actually, for me it was some band guy and i don't think he was very accurate). i have some now.
resolutions for 2007:
1. be more generous
2. deleted this one
3. take more pictures
4. take no experiences, opportunities or people for granted
happy new year. remember that life is just four letters combined in a particular way that have the potential to mean more than words can ever say.
~matt h.
i like happy endings.
i got mail while i was away. a new, larger memory card for germany + prague and an album, a brand new album. by that, i mean an album by the band 'brand new' that, coincidentally, is not brand new but some kind of promo cd i bought online at a reduced rate. it is called 'the devil and god are raging inside me.' i am waiting to listen to it until i have some daylight, a fresh shower and some socks on. i think it will highlight the duality of being human, of the battle within us between sins and sainthood.
nothing we say will ever mean anything unless it meant something when we said it. brand new has a song on their sophomore release in which the lyrics read 'everyone who lives will someday die and die alone.' death is something we will all experience and cannot share with one another, just as we cannot compare levels of emotion.
i didn't make new year's resolutions when the clock counted down (actually, for me it was some band guy and i don't think he was very accurate). i have some now.
resolutions for 2007:
1. be more generous
2. deleted this one
3. take more pictures
4. take no experiences, opportunities or people for granted
happy new year. remember that life is just four letters combined in a particular way that have the potential to mean more than words can ever say.
~matt h.
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