Everybody Knows That Girls Love Robots.

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The sun sets two miles from my house. If you lived here, you’d be me by now.

I’ve got a mixed bag of headlines for you today. Chew 40 times before swallowing.

Communique Rocks the Annex Despite Poor Interview. Concerts Abound!

Communique put on a great show at the Annex this Tuesday. They played most of the tracks on Poison Arrows, along with some new tunes and a few off of their debut EP, A Crescent Honeymoon. I bought an adorable shirt along with the EP, and they’re both fantastic.

In other concert news that concerns me and the Missus, Of Montreal will be playing here on campus at Union South on September 5. The shows there are all ages and FREE, so you have no reason not to show up. Of Montreal is an indie-pop treasure, so come on down; you can stay at my place.

Oh, I forgot to mention one last little bit of unimportant concert gibberish. On September 29, me and the Missus will be heading to Minneapolis to see THE ALMIGHTY ARCADE FIRE! The tickets are purchased, hotel rooms are being reserved, and I’m already crying. I’m trying not to jinx myself by being so happy two months ahead of time, should something unforeseen cause me to miss the show. That being said, I did a cartwheel in the parking lot last night. Let’s move on.

Can You Be Fired From A Freelance Job?

Following the tremendous success and notoriety of my full-page interview last week, I’m back at work behind the writing desk, composing yet another album review for the fine people at Core Weekly. The group in question is Grand Buffet, a white boy hip-hop duo from Pennsylvania. More on that later. Ever since I voiced a complaint about the way I thought my interview was handled last week, I’ve received no replies (or money) from them. This is what happens when you rock the boat, kids. The Missus rocks the boat at work all the time, and they praise her. I do it once when I feel my work is being jeopardized, and suddenly I’m blacklisted. I’ve always wanted something bad to happen to me for following my beliefs, so maybe its finally time.

(EDIT: I have recently recieved contact as well as a check. Remember that Of Montreal show I was talking about earlier? I’ll be interviewing them now. Always rock the boat!)

Quick Reviews Of The Last 15 Albums I’ve Listened To At Work Today.

Minus The Bear – They Make Beer Commercials Like This EP – (A-)
Pedro The Lion – Achilles’ Heel – (B-)
Copeland – Beneath Medicine Tree – (C-)
Troubled Hubble – Making Beds In A Burning House – (C-)
The Dead Milkmen – Chaos Rules: Live At The Trocadero – (B-)
Mando Diao – Hurricane Bar – (B)
Cursive – The Ugly Organ – (A-)
Communique – A Crescent Honeymoon EP – (A-)
The Cloud Room – The Cloud Room – (D+)
The Smiths – Louder Than Bombs – (A)
Minus The Bear – Highly Refined Pirates – (B+)
Rogue Wave – Out Of The Shadow – (D+)
Neutral Milk Hotel – In The Aeroplane Over The Sea – (B+)
The Promise Ring – Very Emergency – (B)
The Arcade Fire – The Arcade Fire EP – (B+)

In case you were wondering, American Idiot still sucks.

Find Me Glossy Paper To Love.

You know me. I’m still a punk in the body of a loser. However, my musical tastes are constantly evolving and changing, and I’m looking for a magazine that reflects that. I enjoy Alternative Press, but I’m growing more and more cynical of the awful bands, paltry write-ups and sad state of affairs in the “Alternative” genre. However, I picked up the lastest issue of “Paste“, and it also rubbed me the wrong way, only in the opposite direction. Is there a magazine that covers the areas between AP & Paste? I like some of the bands covered in “Paste“, but I also still listen to “AP“-style groups. Any suggestions would be appreciated.

You Smell Like I Feel.

The sense of scent is the closest thing to a time machine that we as humans can experience. If we smell something familiar, we are instantly transported back to that place in time. It’s amazing, and I’ve been intensely aware of it in the last couple days. For example, as I was leaving my apartment, I smelled a lingering scent of a cologne that I couldn’t quite remember. All I could recall was that it made me happy, I wore it when I was younger, and it reminded me of nights spent alone with the Missus. Swiss Army! That’s it! I immediately went to the nearest department store and purchased the largest bottle I could find. Do the Swiss have an army?

Other times, scents can put you into a place that you’d wish to forget. For example, the scent of crayons and glue puts me right back into Elementary school, and it makes me sick. The scent of Old Lady perfume mixed with coffee reminds me of every meeting I’ve ever attended in the last 16 years. I swear to you, they all wear the same thing at those meetings.

What Are You Doing?

This weekend, we’re heading home for a family reunion. That should be a lot of awkward, but the weather will be nice, and I’m certain there will be deviled eggs. On Sunday, Ben and Sherry are moving into a newer, bigger place in Green Bay. As someone who is still recovering from a full-scale move, I wish you good luck and strength. You’ll love your new place. I’ve got new links in the sidebar, which I’ve clearly labeled “NEW!” for you. Just another way to make your stay enjoyable. Later.

COMING SOON: The CDP’s Favorite Albums Of All Time.

Grilled Cheese America.

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A few weeks ago, me and the Missus traveled to the tiny town of Mount Horeb, about 25 minutes outside of Madison. We were in the mood for a day trip, and there are literally hundreds of places to blow $50 and an afternoon here in southern Wisconsin.

There were two things we were looking for when we entered Mount Horeb. For starters, this is home to the state-famous “Trollway”, in which the main drag is littered with hand-carved trolls, representing the Norwegian heritage of most Wisconsinites (including myself). In fact, Mount Horeb is known as “Little Norway” by those in the know.

I decided not to take any photos of the trolls. I took plenty of them the last couple trips to New Glarus (“Little Switzerland”), and it’s been a few months since I’ve had a crippling nightmare, so I didn’t want to rock the boat.

The second and most important thing about Mount Horeb was the world-famous Mustard Museum!

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We saw this on the Food Network a few months ago, and knew we had to make the trip. Mark Summers hasn’t led me astray yet, what with his hosting “Double Dare” and his OCD that rivals even mine. In all honesty, I don’t even like mustard, but that wasn’t going to stop me from yet another weird-ass peek into Wisconsin culture.

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The person who started the Mustard Museum was a former lawyer who had worked with a lot of the attorneys that I work with now. Small world.

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What’s a mustard museum without an autographed copy of the greatest album by a condiment-themed group?

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Mustard Plug’s Evildoers Beware! is one of my favorite ska albums, and we had the fortune of playing a show with them so many years ago. The museum lived up to my feeble expectations, as we purchased a small amount of honey mustard and headed for the exits. We had antique shopping to do!

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Woah, what the hell is that? Four hundred and some dollars for a silly Nazi hat? I’ve got tons of these in storage.

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We had to get out of that antique store; I was getting a little weirded ‘oot.

This reminds me of an idea that I had been kicking around for a couple years now. I was considering writing a book or shooting a documentary called “Grilled Cheese America”, in which I would travel across the country, checking out small towns and eating grilled cheeses in every little Mom & Pop place I could find. It wouldn’t be so much about the grilled cheese, as it would be about a journey through the heartland of America. I think it would be rad, but I would most certainly die of a heart attack two weeks in. I dunno, maybe it’s stupid, but I’d have a good time.

I believe that you learn something new every day. If you weren’t already aware of it, I present to you the Mustard Museum of Mount Horeb, Wisconsin. You’re welcome.

Dead Men Don’t Tell Secrets, Do They?

Okay, the published version of the review is up over in the “writings” section. Read the original version (below), and tell me what you think of the finalized product. After comparing the two for a few days now, I can see that to most people, the changes won’t seem that big of a deal. My argument is that the changes were unnecessary, and it had nothing to do with space constraints (the top two-thirds of the page is a huge photograph, which I’ve cut from this version).

Any constructive criticism is appreciated. If you think I’m being a baby, say so, but explain why. I know that this sort of thing happens all the time, but in this case I’d just like a good reason. I’m totally going to frame this article, as I’m still pretty proud of it, I just know that it could have been better. It’s unnerving to see people reading this all around Madison, possibly making false assumptions about the writing style of certain egotistical maniac.

The house is clean, the bills are paid, I’ve updated some links, the check for this interview is in the mail, and I have to go grocery shopping. The storm clouds are rolling in, the temperature is dropping, and the drought is about to end.

I Was Almost Beautiful Once.

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It’s good to get everything back to normal around here. I can now get back to writing what I prefer to write about.

What do I write about again?

I’m in a post-“200th Post” slump, and I’ll tell you why. I feel a little shafted this evening. You see, my big article in Core Weekly was published today (A write-up on the amazing band Communique, I’ll have it up in a few days), and the editing staff there sort of butchered it. I’m not just saying that because I wrote it, mind you. Honestly, they dumbed this interview down to the lowest common denominator. They took what I did, and turned it into a brief, clunky, rushed joke of an article, with my dumbass name on the top in bold. Fantastic.

People often criticize this particular publication for it’s writing abilities, and I’m starting to see why. I would like to assume that I know a thing or two about writing, AP-style formatting and mechanics, and I really think those guys sabotaged me today. I was very excited (and still am) about getting a full page and all, but I’m shaking my head at the mixed blessing.

Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to now post my original draft of the article. In a day or so, I’ll put up the published version. You can make the call. Away we go.

***
Perfect Weapon
Communique brings a new name and a new wave to the Annex.

In 2002, Lookout! Records punk mainstays American Steel had said everything they wanted to say. After the release of Jagged Thoughts, Steel had moved into yet another place with their music, and knew that a big change was in the making. “American Steel had put three relatively different records out, and by the time we were doing demos for a fourth, we realized that things were getting too different. This wasn’t always popular with our punk purist fans,” says Rory Henderson, frontman and main songwriter behind Communiqué. “We didn’t want to put the same record out over and over, so (the name change) seemed to be the most graceful way to follow our musical aspirations.” So began Communiqué, and their debut full-length album, Poison Arrows.

Poison Arrows is a dark, ass-shaking, catchy-as-hell pop album that appeared on many year-end top ten lists by those in the know. Instead of following the new wave revival blueprint that seems to be dying a slow death on your radio, Communiqué looked back to pre-1977 influences to shape the stylings that make Arrows stand so far ahead of their counterparts. This being said, most every track on the album is radio-ready and teeming with a Duran Duran-esque vibe. “I think the whole (new wave revival) thing is cheesy,” states Henderson. “It seems like a disingenuous marketing term. I never care what people call us or compare us to, but I’m shy to offer any suggestions because I don’t want to paint ourselves into a corner.”

In a word, Poison Arrows is bleak. Topics of suicide, depression, love gone awry and failed relationships flood the album with a fog of regret and hope for tomorrow. Each track is masterfully crafted into an instantly recognizable, sing-along gem, from start to finish. “The subject matter is definitely bleak, with the occasional piece of black humor,” states Henderson. “I’m much happier now.”

Immediately noticeable on the album is the beautiful production. Layers of guitars, keys and vocals accompany each other without overkill, never ceasing to crescendo into a massive hook every time. “The wall of sound was certainly the concept for the record, and I’m happy with the end result,” says Henderson. “A lot of that is dealt with during mixing, and what we call “guitar Jenga”, tucking things that are sonically competitive here and there just so. A lot is there with vocal harmonies (sometimes 8-9 parts at a time), and always layers of counter melodies. I like to instrument with a lot of different tones and sounds, and most intuitively, I really became obsessed with building a wide spectrum of overtones. Sounds that your ears don’t listen to, but hear, of course.”

With an album as tightly produced and studio-assisted as this, one begins to wonder how it transforms onto a live stage. “There’s definitely a lot of energy here,” says Henderson in reference to their live performances. “We’ve got some dyed in the wool punk rockers here, so I guess it’s natural. We try to play a set that we would want to watch. I just want people to relax and enjoy themselves; we’ll do the work.”

If there’s one thing that you can plan on happening with Communiqué, it’s constant evolution in influences and musical direction. “Our next record will not sound like the last, and we will always reserve that right,” says Henderson. “Poison Arrows was a good introduction, but it was just that. Songs will sound more different from each other, faster or slower, softer or more aggressive. Lyrically, they’ll be written in a more poetic style, rather than a loose-talk style. Thematically opposite, romantic where Arrows was calculated.”
***

There you have it. I may have to take this down if lawyers start getting involved (I signed a contract, after all), but I feel like this version is so far removed from the published version, that they could never prove that they were ever the same draft. You can judge for yourself next time. Stay tuned.

Until then, I am proud to inform you of the triumphant return of The Girl From Mars.

Post #200 – Part 3 Of 3.

Here we are, the final leg of the journey. If you’re just arriving here, start back at part 1 to go in order. It’ll do you good.

For a split second, Chad’s entire arm was on fire, oil-soaked uniform and all. I stood there, slack-jawed and bewildered, as he windmilled his arm around and batted at the flame.
– “My First Job – Part III”, February 2005

Looking back, I can’t believe that I never had a problem working in the vicinity of this tank. It was essentially a bomb the size of a semi trailer, and I parked my Buick next to it every morning, whistling a happy tune and never thinking for a moment that if it decided to malfunction, they wouldn’t so much as find a fingernail with which to identify me with.
– “My First Job – Part III”, February 2005

He didn’t respond. Party because he was still stunned to the point of a solid pants-crapping, but mainly because he was now deaf.
– “My First Job – Part III”, February 2005

I was passing the time by watching these driveway professionals smoke by the gas tanks and accomplish nothing in 5 hours. It was brilliant to see these people in action, and I model my work ethic after them to this day.
– “My First Job – Part III”, February 2005

All I could do was shake my head in disbelief as I saw the puddle of gas inch closer and closer to the open flame. I was the only one who could see what was happening, and instead of doing anything about it, I quietly got into the fetal position behind the counter. I was wondering how much of the town would be left when the Co-Op disintegrated. I was also wondering how my family would feel about my death being honored in the Darwin Awards. I really didn’t think I was going to die, but I didn’t think I’d want to live once the wave of fire washed the skin from my bones.
– “My First Job – Part III”, February 2005

Here’s a little backstory on Chet. He has an alcohol problem, a smattering of psychological problems and an anger management problem. He represents the Holy Trinity of what a serial killer profile looks like.
– “My First Job – Part IV”, February 2005

Chet lost his driver’s license due to him being a filthy drunk. Always the resourceful fellow, he got into the habit of driving his lawnmower to the Co-Op with a flat trailer attached to it . I could literally hear him coming from a mile away.
– “My First Job – Part IV”, February 2005

An hour later, the cops were at his house because he had filled his ditches with concrete and covered his driveway with sod. He said he did this to keep the frogs out of his garage.
– “My First Job – Part IV”, February 2005

Why does responsibility always hit me after the fact?
– “My Mini-Vacation”, March 2005

Distancing yourself from your problems means nothing when your biggest problem is looking at you in the mirror, and wearing your pants.
– “My Mini-Vacation”, March 2005

Makes total sense, because it totally sucks.
– “My Mini-Vacation”, March 2005

If I wanted to swim in a smoke-filled sea of strangers and sweat, I’d throw a party and set my house on fire.
– “The Search Is Over”, March 2005

In my own personal opinion, the scariest movie ever is “Fahrenheit 9/11”, and the goriest movie ever is “The Snuff Film I Made Last Year In My Basement With That One Hitchhiker”.
– “The Search Is Over”, March 2005

If you’re looking for a witty world leader, look no further than Stalin. He could deliver a joke about airline food that would really make you think, you know?
– “The Search Is Over”, March 2005

If I could marry a basketball team, I would marry the Kentucky Wildcats. In fact, I think that sort of thing is legal in Kentucky, so more power to me.
– “Duke Sucks/Adventures In Broadcasting”, March 2005

The music was supposed to cue for the cheerleading squad, but through no fault of my own, something went wrong. The cheerleaders stood in the middle of the court amongst silence and tumbleweeds, waiting for something, anything to bail them out.
– “Duke Sucks/Adventures In Broadcasting”, March 2005

So, there I was. This was supposed to be the coolest moment of my High School career, and all at once I was surrounded by a lot of parents and students that wanted to hurt me.
– “Duke Sucks/Adventures In Broadcasting”, March 2005

Suppose you were in an accident, in which your eye was popped out of the socket. Assuming that the nerves and whatnot were still attached, would you still be able to see out of it? Would you be able to turn it around, and look yourself right in the face?
– “Chinese Sky Candy”, March 2005

Last year I read a story about an off-duty cop who was in a theater next to a group of rude inbreds. He tased them, and got fired from the force. I thought it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.
– “Chinese Sky Candy”, March 2005

So, who wants to murder Toby Keith?
– “Mapless In The Open Sea”, March 2005

I also need to find time to keep training for this 5-mile run so my heart doesn’t immediately explode once the starter’s pistol fires.
– “Mapless In The Open Sea”, March 2005

I hated the test pattern. Not because I wanted to watch more TV, but because it meant I was alone. I just wanted to sleep, and I was usually too afraid or too busy thinking about something to relax long enough for that to happen. I didn’t have a computer in the 80’s, so when TV finally bailed out on you at night, you were truly on your own. It probably doesn’t make much sense to anyone else, but that test pattern was a very frightening thing to me, because it symbolized loneliness and solitude. But eventually, the Home Shopping Network came along, and then I was free to watch television until the sun came back up for another bleary-eyed day.
– “No Room For Humans”, March 2005

The Pope died, which is a shame for Catholics, but Mitch Hedberg also died, which is a shame for everyone.
– “Springing Forward”, April 2005

If the worst thing you do when you’re drunk is play a fake Scrabble word, you know you’re a pretty good kid.
– “Springing Forward”, April 2005

Thank you for killing a genre with me. After resizing and pouring over these photos for the last 2 days, I can say with relative honesty that I’ll never be able to look any of you in the eye again. I’m absolutely horrified with all of you.
– “I Can’t Look You In The Eye”, April 2005

I’m trying this new thing where I keep my fool mouth shut, and just appear cooler and sexy. It’s not really doing the trick.
– “The Rusty Taste Of Failure”, April 2005

My pants immediately became more urine-stained then they were the minute before.
– “The Rusty Taste Of Failure”, April 2005

The second we opened the doors, we were hit with an atmosphere of psychological warfare the likes of which I had never seen. The XM Satellite radio station was cranked to a specific station that played nothing but “Celebration” by Kool & the Gang, and the room was so cold I couldn’t help but dance. I glanced at my watch to see if the 90 minutes were over yet, as young businessmen laughed loudly and high-fived in front of a huge dry-erase board full of sales figures. I was already more than happy to give up the free tickets just to go home.
– “You’re A Woman, I’m A Machine”, April 2005

Bill had massive, Kip Winger-esque teeth that probably made the “ting” sound when he smiled, had it not been for the loud disco music drowning it out. His breath was minty-fresh, his handshake was firm and he knew exactly where we were coming from.
– “You’re A Woman, I’m A Machine”, April 2005

He looked up at us like we had sprouted extra arms and legs, and watched his commission evaporate. Five minutes later, we were clutching our free plane tickets.
– “You’re A Woman, I’m A Machine”, April 2005

I think it partly reminds me of High School, where I would publicly berate my giant car in front of all the fly honeys that would climb into the back of it after class.
– “A Dozen Bad Stories”, April 2005

I don’t know what it is about me that looks like I need to be saved, but the next person that tells me I need direction is going to be gutted with a broken whiskey bottle.
– “A Dozen Bad Stories”, April 2005

It’s a sad state of affairs when I get freaked out looking up cereal information late at night.
– “Double Nerd Score”, April 2005

Well, this post has all the structure and coherency of a fever dream.
– “Double Nerd Score”, April 2005

I’ll still be out 20 bucks even if I do run the race, but it’s that illusion of accomplishing your goals that keep me from eating a shotgun on a daily basis.
– “Cooler By The Lake”, April 2005

Personally, any movie where Tori Spelling gets the crap beat out of her is good watching by me. In fact, there should be an entire network devoted to movies in which Tori Spelling gets the crap beat out of her.
– “Cooler By The Lake”, April 2005

I wanted to explain to her that although I wished my job was more like a mockumentary, it was usually more painful and depressing. It seems ironic that I find joy in watching a show were people pretend to do my job.
– “Our Girls Were Looking So Good”, April 2005

My solemn vow to never lose touch with teenage trends has faded into a sea of Sweet Corn Festivals and talk radio.
– “You’re Creepy”, April 2005

I used to think teenage girls were a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in Dr. Pepper lip gloss, sporting ultra-low cut pants. In honesty, young women are pretty easy to figure out. If they like you, they’ll find every possible way to cross your path 20 times a day. If they don’t like you, they’ll still pass you 20 times a day, but they’ll talk loudly about how you creep them out. Either way, you’ll get the picture.
– “You’re Creepy”, April 2005

I have to go and massage my thighs now.
– “You’re Creepy”, April 2005

Coming around the corner and into Camp Randall was amazing, and I couldn’t believe that I could run 5 miles without stopping to walk or die.
– “I’m Going To Puke My Pants”, April 2005

My blood instantly ran cold. I had made the grim discovery that one of my ears is set higher than the other. Damn it! I’m supposed to me symmetrical!
– “Let’s Pretend We Don’t Exist”, May 2005

I don’t like the idea of a giant, flaming ball in the sky being close enough to blister your flesh.
– “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”, May 2005

I can see it now. At a pub somewhere after the Leeds Festival, knocking back pints of Guinness. Robert Smith says something snide about being a vegan, Morrissey makes a fat joke, and all of a sudden they’re taking it outside.
– “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”, May 2005

I’m certainly not one of those people that craves trauma and emergency. There’s nothing that makes me happier than wasting away an entire evening in front of the television with the Missus. Any happiness that I once took in making things difficult has long escaped my stranglehold of failure. Every now and then, however, I feel like I want to throw a chair through my patio door just to clean up the broken glass.
– “Motivationizal Seminizar”, May 2005

Most of your life you spend fixing something that’s broken.
– “Motivationizal Seminizar”, May 2005

I’ve learned to accept that happiness comes in small packages. Happiness isn’t a lifestyle. Happiness isn’t a long and wonderful marriage or friendship. Happiness isn’t found in a self-help book or seminar. Happiness is making five green lights and a yellow on your way to work. Happiness is petting two cats at the same time. Happiness is a cookie.
– “Motivationizal Seminizar”, May 2005

The best thing about miserable weather is that eventually the sun will shine again.
– “Thunderstorm Grilling Techniques”, May 2005

Weather or not it’s sad to cover up ones’ monetary shortcomings with fancy clothes isn’t the topic of conversation right now. What matters is that my Mother always likes to see me in a new shirt.
– “I Could Beat Shaq At “Horse””, May 2005

90% of all women’s stores have sizes so embarrassingly small that only a fetus with a charge card could shop there. Meanwhile, they assume that every man on the planet is 9 feet tall and weighs 1400 pounds.
– “I Could Beat Shaq At “Horse””, May 2005

I traded my books and research for an IPod and a Game Boy Advance, and it has made all the difference. Once you join the quiet ranks of the status quo, nobody’s telling you to shut up anymore. My brain is placid now, silently nursing the spinal fluid from the back of my neck. Soon I won’t feel a thing. By the time the US invades Iran, I won’t even realize that Jeb Bush was elected President.
– “I’m Your Only Friend, I’m Not Your Only Friend”, May 2005

I’m an egotistical basket case.
– “E=MC Hammer”, May 2005

On the positive side, during a break between seminars, I got to experience what it sounds like when 15 people eat apples simultaneously in a silent conference room.
– “E=MC Hammer”, May 2005

The humidity makes me feel as if I’m walking through broth.
– “Hired Goons”, June 2005

If Tony Little can’t motivate you, then you’re already dead, brother.
– “Hired Goons”, June 2005

I tried one of those at Dick’s Sporting Goods a few months ago, and I tore my groin so badly that the assistant manager could hear it all the way over by the pool tables.
– “Hired Goons”, June 2005

When it comes to crap smeared onto film, I’m your man.
– “Why Can’t I Have One For Myself?”, June 2005

As the tavern door shut behind the two of us, I knew there was no way that I could beat up my old man. I mean, the guy smokes like the Challenger Space Shuttle and drinks like Dan Rather during the Election, but I still think he could take me.
– “I Don’t Dream Good”, June 2005

I begin to spend more time with the future Missus. Knowing that she has a boyfriend, I try to keep emotional distance. Doesn’t go too well. Go crazy and temporarily die.
– “Two Thousand Days And Counting”, June 2005

She doesn’t expect me to be perfect, but she actually believes that I could be.
– “Two Thousand Days And Counting”, June 2005

I don’t believe in angels, but I believe in my wife. She does all those things and more. She keeps me happy and smart; she makes my dinner and folds my laundry. She opens jars when I’m too weak. She keeps my white socks looking their whitest, and she holds me when she knows I need her to. It makes no sense to me why she hangs around, because I could never offer her all of what she gives to me.
– “Two Thousand Days And Counting”, June 2005

After 200 of these little guys, I want to thank everyone for always showing up and saying hello. There’s no way that I would still be doing this if is weren’t for you. The next 200 posts will be better, I promise. Praise me in the comments section, and let me know what your favorite quote is.

Post #200 – Part 2 Of 3.

The 200th post trilogy continues. Enjoy 79 more quotes.

No matter who wins, we’re still headed straight down Sh*t Creek without a paddle, I just want John Kerry pretending to steer the boat.
– “Pure Filler”, October 2004

Tonight, the Red Sox will win their 8th straight postseason game, sweep the Cardinals and become World Series Champions for the first time in about 86 years. I personally haven’t been waiting 86 years, but I’m still happy as hell about it. Best Baseball Postseason Ever!
– “Pure Filler”, October 2004

Remember, nothing beats the look on a kid’s face when he takes a big bite out of a caramel-covered onion.
– “20 Scariest Movie Moments!”, October 2004

Jack Nicholson gives his greatest performance in this Kubrick raping of a Stephen King novel.
– “20 Scariest Movie Moments!”, October 2004

You really should see poltergeist if you haven’t already. It’s a classic, and it was before Spielberg decided he could make a lot more money with Dinosaurs and Jews.
– “20 Scariest Movie Moments!”, October 2004

Now listen, we’ve got to talk for a second here. Man to man, or man to woman… or woman to woman, if you prefer. It’s about this Election tomorrow. It’s important, it really is. The last few elections have been sort of worthless. 2 candidates who agree with each other on almost every subject. It really didn’t matter who you voted for, if you voted at all. This year is different. We have 2 rich, white millionaires who disagree on almost every damn subject you could bring up to them. We actually get to choose which one of these people agrees the most with us, and vote for them as our President. Pick a topic that matters to you. This war, the draft, abortion, health care, the economy, taxes, education, the environment. These candidates have a different opinion on all of these issues. If you already know who you’re going to vote for, good for you. Vote for the guy who you think will instill your beliefs in the Oval Office. If you’re still undecided, or are considering staying home, you’re missing out on something that’s honestly going to effect you. It will take you no more than 5 minutes to look up what the candidates have to say about almost anything. Make an educated choice, and cast your vote. Wisconsin is a great state, because they let you register to vote on the day of the Election! No phone calls to make, no e-mails and no letters. All you have to do is show up at your local polling place, and it will take you 30 seconds to change the world. If that sounded queer, you need to know that I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it was true.
– “I Have A Plan”, November 2004

No earth-shattering problems, no ugly messes and no lawyers. No fist fights in voter lines, no fires, no tear gas, no civil war and not a single protest. No hanging chads, no effigy, no duels to the death and again, no recount. We all expected a disaster on November 2. We got much worse.
– “Post #100”, November 2004

Here’s where we went wrong. Once again, I will squarely blame my generation. Didn’t P. Diddy tell you he would kill you if you didn’t vote? Weren’t you afraid of what Puffy was going to do to you? Haven’t you seen his faux-hawk?
– “Post #100”, November 2004

As the projections kept coming in, I was praying out loud that the entire center of the United States would be sucked into a fiery abyss, leaving only the blue-colored crust behind. Of course, this never happened. Then again, I was watching Fox News for some of the night, so if it did happen I wouldn’t have known.
– “Post #100”, November 2004

I used to live in the “Heartland”. I used to work at a gas station so deep in the middle of red territory, that slavery was openly discussed over coffee and cigarettes.
– “Post #100”, November 2004

After September 11, we had never been as united as we were then. Three years later, this place is taking sides and looking for an ass to kick.
– “Post #100”, November 2004

I’d be happy to fight in a war that I believe in, and if he reinstates the draft due to poor planning, I’ll certainly fight to overthrow his entire cabinet. Thanks to the Patriot Act, I’ll be visited by the Secret Service for that previous remark. Don’t you feel safer?
– “Post #100”, November 2004

I must give 20 bucks every December to these people. The worst part is that each Santa is different, and they don’t know that you already gave the Salvation Army money. Dude, I’M BROKE! I have just enough money to buy this Matchbox 20 CD for my sister and maybe grab some dinner. Screw the Salvation Army, and their guilt-driven racket.
– “Meet Me When We’re 10 Years Older”, November 2004

I’m trying to set honest, reachable goals for myself this holiday season. My first goal is to not drive anywhere when there is more than a quarter-of-an-inch of snow on the ground. I’m not doing it. If I wake up for work one December morn, and see even the slightest of flakes blowing around outside my window, they can shove it. I’m calling in sick.
– “Violence Good! Sex Bad!”, November 2004

I firmly hold the belief that in the future, movies will no longer have titles. We’ll just go to the theater, and the signs will just say, “Horror”, “Romantic Comedy”, “Action”, etc. We’ll pay our 12 bucks apiece, and the movies will satisfy our needs.
– “Violence Good! Sex Bad!”, November 2004

There, a giant lumberjack of a man shot a flare gun at me, somehow blowing up the shack I was standing in front of. I then wrestled a pitchfork out of the hands of a lanky passerby, and put it through the lumberjack’s neck. As blood exploded from his jugular vein, I threw up and awoke. I didn’t sleep much afterwards. The weirdest part came this afternoon, when most of that dream came true.
– “Monkey Is Not A Color”, November 2004

It’s pretty obvious that Celia didn’t have to work very hard to rope me into this. I was never much into casual dating, I disliked parties to no extent, and the women I hung out with had such crippling emotional baggage that I almost went gay my Sophomore year. The thought of waking up next to someone I truly cared about was what sent me onward and upward, looking for that person who would settle for a egomaniacal knob like myself. I’m more true to myself lint-rolling the furniture than I ever was pretending to listen to 15-year olds go on about their boyfriends.
– “I’ve Got Perfect Words To Say”, November 2004

All around my place of employment, I hear bitter women venting about how much men suck. Suddenly, after 20 years of marriage and 4 kids, they realize that they can function on their own. They finally realize that they married a selfish, unresponsive, sexist prick that has no idea or intention of making their wife happy.
– “I’ve Got Perfect Words To Say’, November 2004

You should be so lucky that this wonderful woman has offered you the rest of her life to attempt to whip you into decent shape, so she can show you off at gatherings. Do NOT let her down. She deserves better than you, and you’d better make damn sure that she never realizes that.
– “I’ve Got Perfect Words To Say”, November 2004

The next time your man pisses you off, play hardball. Tell him that you’re going to run off with a Yak, or perhaps a Teddy-Bear Hamster. An animal who knows where the nearest stream is, and who keeps in shape on their little exercise wheel.
– “I’ve Got Perfect Words To Say”, November 2004

My final thought is this. Men, you have no idea how easy you have it. All women ask of you is that you treat them the way you want to be treated. They may never make up their mind about where they want to eat dinner, but they’ll never waiver on the respect thing, I promise. Some women have serious problems, some men have serious problems, but the majority of people just want a pair of eyes looking back at them and nodding.
– “I’ve Got Perfect Words To Say”, November 2004

Secondly, no more excessive drinking for Ryan. I’m hereby authorizing Celia to use deadly force if necessary to keep me from turding all over the next party we have. I know she only keeps me around to look sexy and wear cute sweaters, so that’s all I plan to do from this point forward. No more talking, because it’s not my strong suit anymore. I’ll cover my personality with hipster glasses and well-fitting denim, and sip Sprite for the rest of my life.
– “The Last Wobbler”, November 2004

I also bought Benjamin the Complete First Season of Home Movies, only to discover that he already stole it from Netflix. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be returning to Best Buy with the receipt, and I’m using the store credit to buy more things for myself. I’m never attempting to be giving again.
– “Yesterday Is My Day”, December 2004

We went to Pizzeria Uno for dinner, where Celia told me that her former Supervisor had a heart attack. She also informed me that he was a practicing Buddhist. I think he needs to practice a bit harder. It’s a sad sign of the times when Buddhists start having heart attacks.
– “Yesterday Is My Day”, December 2004

Well, he looks like Beetlejuice, and he just spent 10 years in a mental institution for killing his entire family.
– “Wilhelm Screamroller”, December 2004

I cannot say enough about Arrested Development. They saved the sitcom from reality-tv destruction, and put every other sitcom to shame. They have the best cast, the best storylines, and the fastest pacing of any live-action show. If you laugh hard enough, you’ll miss the next 10 jokes. Sometimes I can’t even laugh because I’m simply floored by the brilliance in the joke they’ve crafted for my entertainment. If you don’t like Arrested Development, you’re just not intelligent enough for the future of network sitcoms.
– “The Best & Worst Of 2004”, December 2004

The Red Sox did something that had never been done before. They won 4 straight playoff games against the Yankees, and swept the Cardinals to break the longest drought in baseball history. It’s almost unfair that this happened the same year that I got married, because nothing in 2005 will compare to these 2 moments in my life. Maybe if I get RE-married, and the Packers win the Super Bowl, but that’s really it.
– “The Best & Worst Of 2004”, December 2004

I’m making a prediction. I bet you that Scott Peterson kills himself before the state of California can do it for him.
– “Peterson Sentenced To Death”, December 2004

For me, this is a trip down recent memory lane. For you, it’s a chance to read what I wrote when I wrote better than I write now.
– “C.D.P. Year In Review!”, December 2004

The diploma I got from them tells me that I know something about music and recording technology. I don’t know if this is true or not, but I did give them a lot of money, so I’m taking the title and running with it.
– “C.D.P. Year In Review!”, December 2004

I manage to blow 3 interviews in one day. At one particular interview, when asked what my biggest fault is, I respond “modesty”. The interview is cut short when I become mumbling and incoherent. Everything I just said is completely true.
– “C.D.P. Year In Review!”, December 2004

This is little Tanner Dakota. I’m due in late June, but you could never tell by looking at me. I’ve stopped smoking, eat lots of fruits and veggies, and drink lots of Tang. I consider this my little miracle, because me and Celia were on the verge of divorce before this little guy came along.
– “Fingers Touching Knees Through Holes In Ripped Jeans”, December 2004

I’m not a very talented writer, but I always want to do more and try different things. Just the thought that someone would pay me even a quarter for something I wrote makes me pretty content. Thanks a million.
– “Fingers Touching Knees Through Holes In Ripped Jeans”, December 2004

Mad Planet was packed with swaying bottles of Blatz, the screaming didn’t let up for a second, and the Benjamins sounded as tight as they ever did, considering that they’re all almost full-blown alcoholics.
– “Just Like Heaven”, December 2004

Celia wakes up for work. In true supportive Husband fashion, I get up with her and watch the repulsive horror show that is “Good Morning America”. Sip orange juice as Diane Sawyer tells me that our children will be dead by the afternoon thanks to terrorists. Turn to “The Today Show” and realize that sometime last year, Katie Couric became a Botox-riddled alien.
– “My Project Jacket In The Attic”, December 2004

If you look at old Christmas photos taken there, you’d probably not be able to make anything out through the thick fog of cigarette smoke. Somewhere along the line, they finally realized that we were all going to be dead soon if people didn’t start smoking outside. It helped make the pictures clearer, and certainly increased our life span. Old photos will also show you more of a rampant alcoholism than now. Sure, the Zeinerts will kick back a beer or glass of wine this weekend, but a picture from 1989 will show you nothing less than a yuletide can pyramid almost rivaling the decorated tree next to it. It was a sight to behold for someone as young as me at the time.
– “Worst Christmas Ever”, December 2004

Now I find myself rejecting slices of cheese that may have brushed up against a sausage link, because I’m an asshole. It doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying myself, though.
– “Worst Christmas Ever”, December 2004

In all of my childhood photos, I just look like I need a sandwich stuffed with Ritalin. It’s a shame that the majority of the pictures taken of me were when Don Majikowski was big here in Wisconsin. Was there any particular purpose for shaving lines into the side of your head? Maybe it helped him run faster into football obscurity.
– “Worst Christmas Ever”, December 2004

It was never hard to make Grandma cry on Christmas. She was usually doing it before we showed up. Coming from a guy who has seen this woman in action on Christmas morning, I’m surprised she even had the energy to cry. If I had the money, I’d buy the 2 of them anything they wanted. I swear to Christ, if I won the lottery tomorrow I’d buy them a new house. Anything without steps to climb. Of course, I didn’t win the lottery, so they’re going to get something much smaller from me. She’ll still cry about it, though.
– “Worst Christmas Ever”, December 2004

It’s times like this that you become very grateful for the company you keep. I’ve got my own life now, but on December 25th you get to step back into what you remember as a kid. The idea of tradition states that something is done symbolically every year in honor to something else. In this case, the birth of Jesus, but also the coming together of people you know and love. The notion that I can step back in time every year with the same people on the same day, and be happy, is beautiful.
– “Worst Christmas Ever”, December 2004

15 years ago, I would have asked for a video game system. This year, I’m asking for a vacuum cleaner.
– “Worst Christmas Ever”, December 2004

I was all set for a mental and physical crash of epic proportions in 1999, but she showed up and changed all that. We were exactly what the other needed, and she filled the passenger seat in my Buick Somerset like nobody else could. How many people can say that the entire season of Winter reminds them of their wife?
– “A Cure For Insomnia”, December 2004

What happened in the last 16 years that would make me suck at a classic video game? I shake my head in disgust every time poor Samus explodes into pieces, thinking that there was a more simpler time when I could have saved her. Maybe it’s because I’m married now, or that there’s a war going on or something.
– “We Got A Winner!”, December 2004

To me, laughter is more important than looking good.
– “Top 10 Of Everything”, December 2004

I can’t believe that you come here and read things that I have to say about myself. This whole thing is perverse and voyeuristic, and I’m not stopping until I have to.
– “Top 10 Of Everything”, December 2004

I run a little charitable organization from my apartment called “Tails of Giving”, which saves homeless and abandoned cats from a dangerous life on the streets.
– “Top 10 Of Everything”, December 2004

I’ll miss you.
– “Monday – January 3 – 2005”, January 2005

What you need to know is that he was quite simply the most amazing person I’ve ever known. ‘Nuff said. This week has been agonizing, and my entire family is looking forward to better times.
– “Faster Than A Shorthand Bullet”, January 2005

I hope that the Macaroni and Cheese tasted like stale lies and betrayal, because I went hungry today because of what you did.
– “I Just Don’t Understand”, January 2005

When I met Celia, one of the first things I asked her was, “Do you believe in fate?” Now that I’m older, I don’t know what I believe, but frankly it doesn’t matter anymore. I got what I wanted. If it was my choice or someone elses, I’m just glad that it happened.
– “The Routine”, January 2005

So come along with me. I’ll open the door to my Buick and pull the seat up so you can jump in the back. Then we’ll leave school and head to the practice room for cover songs and cookie dough. The space heater tends to act up a bit, so we’ll all have to use blankets and friction to keep warm. Take off your mittens and press play.
– “The Routine”, January 2005

It’s a shame that my first movie fell through, because I really wanted to prove you could make a zero-budget college film without falling into that asinine trap of gratuity for the sake of “art”. It can be done, it just needs talent without the pretention. Just because you own a gun doesn’t mean that you have to shoot somebody with it, and just because you’re making your own movie doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be able to watch it with your Mother.
– “The Midnight Rant”, January 2005

You can’t put a condom on a tidal wave, but it can still prevent a disaster.
– “The Midnight Rant”, January 2005

I very clearly remember her opening her eyes one night, looking directly at me, and punching me in the face. Now, that couldn’t have been an accident.
– “The Midnight Rant”, January 2005

Stick figures tend to put biased political slap-fights into perspective, don’t they?
– “Cool Water Air Freshener”, January 2005

It’s best to talk about death over muffins and your favorite breakfast beverage.
– “Biggest Downer Ever (Welcome Back!)”, January 2005

I decided to crunch some numbers and attach some sort of equation to my mortality.
– “Biggest Downer Ever (Welcome Back!)”, January 2005

Best case scenario, I have maybe 3 years left in my life that are currently unclaimed. These bits and scraps of totally free time will be handed to me in 30-second chunks sporadically over the next 47 years.
– “Biggest Downer Ever (Welcome Back!)”, January 2005

I finally got my own little name stand. It lets everyone there know what my full title is, so they can properly address me when they want me to sweep out the supply room. I’m respected!
– “January Photo Colonic”, January 2005

Show me any creature under a year old that doesn’t like to whiz on shag, and I’ll give you a dollar.
– “January Photo Colonic”, January 2005

For such pretty and mature young women, they can sure be persuasive. On their own, they can be reasoned with, even engaging in a decent conversation. Together, they become something altogether different. A roving mob bent on rampant alcoholism and destruction. I remained calm.
– “Tainted Lovespell”, January 2005

Get more than 3 women together, and they become nothing short of a permission-slip-only health class.
– “Tainted Lovespell”, January 2005

When I was a kid, back in ’85-’86, I was sort of pale and thin. But I obviously knew how to throw a deck party!
– “Who’s Going To Be The Odd Man Out?”, February 2005

Luckily for me, once you’re married you usually don’t find yourself showing your scantily-clad body off to loved ones and co-workers. I mean, you totally can, it’s just generally frowned upon, depending on your friends. 98% of the people that I now hang out with are women, and they aren’t really as into the exhibitionism thing as my old male friends were. That’s roughly the equivalent of winning 10 cents in the lottery. But in the grand scheme of things, pants always beats no pants. Let’s move on.
– “Who’s Going To Be The Odd Man Out?”, February 2005

Unlike most people who have lost the will to live, I don’t look at my job as a privilege. I look at my job as something I should enjoy and feel respected in. Maybe it’s a mix of my age and attitude in a work field that’s so dominated by middle-aged folks, but I honestly don’t care what anyone around me thinks when I step into my office in the morning.
– “Who’s Going To Be The Odd Man Out?”, February 2005

Short hair accentuates my giant forehead, and draws lots of attention to my elfin ears. The chicks love it.
– “It’s Still Summer Somewhere”, February 2005

You’d almost think I’d be getting paid to do all this, but it turns out I’m just a complete dumbass.
– “It’s Still Summer Somewhere”, February 2005

As long as you promise to keep coming back, I’ll continue to make an ass of myself for the sake of social acceptance and entertainment. Thanks.
– “You’re Still Here?”, February 2005

With the money they paid me to write a single review, I barely filled my car with gasoline. But check this, it was premium.
– “Mr. Electric Shock!”, February 2005

I paid $22,000 for those cobs to tell me that a 6-cycle hum would make you crap your pants.
– “Mr. Electric Shock!”, February 2005

They had moved from an old building, where they kept all records on paper, and didn’t believe in registers and electricity. I think they were the last store in the north to finally stop accepting pelts as currency.
– “My First Job – Part I”, February 2005

I could have literally shot a movie there during normal business hours, and now I really wish I would have. I was planning on calling it, “Clerks: the good version”.
– “My First Job – Part I”, February 2005

In the 4 years that I worked there, I became somewhat of a bartender without alcohol. I listened to people’s problems, handed out advice and receipts, broke up fights and threw people out. I saw things that I never want to see again, and actually almost lost my life on more than one occasion. I never thought that so many stories that make up my personality would come from this one building when I was a teenager.
– “My First Job – Part I”, February 2005

When you consider how fragile and tiny life really is, you start to consider yourself pretty lucky when you find yourself on the “not dead” side of these incidents.
– “My First Job – Part II”, February 2005

Todd was a kind-but-tough man, boasting scarred arms and a black David Crosby-like ‘stache. I’ve seen him lift hundreds of pounds and put out fires with his bare hands.
– “My First Job – Part II”, February 2005

I’m sure their thinking was that as soon as they heard my dead body hit the floor, they could easily sneak out the back with little to no confrontation.
– “My First Job – Part II”, February 2005

About 98% of our customers were regulars who probably wouldn’t hurt anyone unless they were black.
– “My First Job – Part II”, February 2005

Anticipating your own murder is really something amazing. You start to wonder if you’ve lived a decent enough life at the age of 18. I couldn’t believe that I was going to be killed behind the counter of a gas station. I helped myself to a few free sodas and candy bars. It was the least I could do.
– “My First Job – Part II”, February 2005

The next day, the headlines would read, “Ryan Zeinert paralyzes nutjob, George W. Bush drinks self to death.”
– “My First Job – Part II”, February 2005

Morally, I learned that life is a tiny gift that should be enjoyed as much as possible. Weather or not we’re significant or holy means nothing sometimes. I also learned that it doesn’t take much to go primal every now and then. I consider myself a pretty stable person, but when faced with my mortality I all but scalped the locals to stay alive.
– “My First Job – Part II”, February 2005

Part 3 of 3 is on the way.

Post #200 – Part 1 Of 3.

So, here it finally is. My 200th post, so large that it’s been divided into a trilogy of quotes and sound bites from the last year and a half. It represents the best and worst, funniest and dumbest that the CDP has ever had to offer. Please enjoy, parts 2 and 3 are on the way.

So to Lucas, if you ever read this, I hate you and you’ve ruined my chances to become a cable television personality. If it takes me until I’m a hundred years old, I will kill you.
– “Sheet Envy”, February 2004

This computer is agonizingly slow, and has more viruses than Courtney Love’s bathwater. Zing! Take that, famous performer!
– “Untitled Post”, February 2004

The sheet that was made so beautifully by Celia was shining like a beacon behind the main table, and it received a good share of positive comments. I like to think that I was partly responsible for its beauty, because I did nothing to wreck it while it sat on my living room floor.
– Infant A Go-Go”, February 2004

Well, I’m off to ingest a large helping of fiber.
– “Ulcers Be Damned!”, February 2004

This mindset goes back to school for me. Since there were no days off in March, there was no relief from school. Each day seemed like more of a weight on your shoulders until you became convinced that March would simply swallow up the rest of the months, and just carry on for 294 more days.
– “Damn Smarch Weather”, March 2004

I need to sit where I can see everything, and nothing is behind me. When I go out to eat I need to sit in a corner or up against the wall. I fear assassination attempts. Screw having people look at me when I don’t know it. Enough of this.
– “Clear!”, March 2004

I slowly hung the phone up and thought to myself for a long amount of time. “How could I be a terrorist?” I thought to myself. “When did this happen? Last week? I didn’t even leave the house last week!”
– “Terror Alert: Elevated”, March 2004

Now, I don’t even want to get into all the many reasons why I could NOT be a terrorist (afraid of guns, can’t swim, allergies, etc.). I suspect that even the least capable terrorist can walk to the mailbox without getting an ear infection.
– “Terror Alert: Elevated”, March 2004

I’ve noticed that this page has been receiving about 15 hits a day, for an average visiting time of 5 minutes per hit.
– “Punching Out”, March 2004
(I now get over 200 hits a day. Thanks.)

Some authors have the gift of being able to keep their readers glued to the pages, unable to put the book down for any reason. This is due to an abundance of adhesive applied to the spine of the book, and that was a funny joke. But seriously, pick up anything in the “Goosebumps” series, and that magnificent bastard R.L. Stine can keep you gripped for upwards of 48 pages.
– “2% Skim”, March 2004

Tender steam escapes from between my parted lips, my feet stepping onto dirty melting snow. The dark full moon in the clearest sky of early spring beams down its’ spotlight, leaving me alone on this stage of asphalt. Cautiously avoiding sidewalk cracks and wingless doves roams I, trickling tears turning to ice on red cheeks. Cars dodge the fool who doesn’t check for danger, too immersed in failure and loss to comprehend basic pain. Crossing the street of broken dreams, and into the supermarket of lost souls.
– “2% Skim”, March 2004

She’s the type of woman who’s so gorgeous that if you look at her long enough, you think about killing her. You know what I’m talking about. You look and obsess about someone so much, that they become too perfect to live on this earth. Then you have to go and take them out in some horrible fashion. Beauty and death are hand in hand. If you are with someone who you think you could kill on the grounds of her being perfect, the search is over. Marry that woman. But then don’t go on and kill her. Just keep that to yourself.
– “A New Man”, March 2004

I thought for sure that they would show up and see me attempting to drag a dead Jamaican guy out of my apartment.
– “Butter Your Buns”, March 2004

People like lists. American people will not rest until they have taken every single thing on the planet and attached a ranking and short description to it. People love nothing more than to see anything listed in ascending order of goodness.
– “Top 10 List – Part 1”, March 2004

I slam my door on preachers, and that’s what I did here. I basically told her to go away, and to leave us alone. I was diplomatic but firm. I could have just as soon told them to go to hell, made devil horns with my fingers to the whole diner and left, never to see any of them again. But I didn’t, yet I still come off like an ass.
– “Good Morning, Dark Lord”, April 2004

I’m getting no smarter, and my life is already at least 25% over. This self-depreciation will cure a bad mood, but it won’t make tomorrow any better. That takes effort. Effort needs self-esteem, self-esteem needs self-worth, self-worth needs accomplishments, and accomplishments need effort. Uh oh.
– “Good Eye, Sniper”, April 2004

I’d like to thank Mr. Flav for the kind words. I also hope he has a quick and successful trial.
– “Celebrity Fan Mail!”, April 2004

It really makes me appreciate the sacrifices people make so their son or husband doesn’t hang himself in the bathroom by the elastic in his boxers.
– “We’re On Cloud Nine!”, April 2004

Something else I need to do is exercise. With spring turning into summer, I really should get out more often. I’m gaining weight, have trouble with most stairs, and I’m a spoonfull of mayo away from a full-blown heart attack. It’ll be a sad day when my pacemaker keeps me from microwaves when I’m 23 years old. I think I feel great, but I usually lie to myself.
– “We’re On Cloud Nine!”, April 2004

Even you could crank out a beautifully formatted screenplay in less than a week. Well, probably not you. I can, though.
– “The Wizard Needs Food Badly”, April 2004

I’m no stranger to people thinking I’m gay. Ever since I was young, people would always speculate as to if I was practicing an alternative lifestyle. Admittedly, having a bona fide homosexual as your best friend was no saving grace. The general public just assumed that we were lovers. No amount of flirting or games of flag football seemed to change this stereotype.
– “Mr. Fancy Stamps”, May 2004

I think if they want to give the “cowboys” some incentive to win, they should give the bulls wimpy names like “Kitten Rainbow”, or “Lollipop Pillow Basket”. If I got my ribs kicked in my “McNasty”, I’d still be respected. But if a bucking steed named “Pink Triangle” caused me to lose a testicle, I’d never hear the end of it. That’s a bull I’m going to want to stay on.
– “Yeee-Haw!”, May 2004

Even if you have to watch 20 guys in a row last 8 seconds with the bull, it’s all worth it for the inevitable goring that takes place at every rodeo since the beginning of time.
– “Yeee-Haw!”, May 2004

You go to rodeos for the same reason you go to a NASCAR race or a cockfight, you want to see things get hurt! Did you honestly think that riding this bull was a good idea? Did you think you’d be respected as a hero and a big man? Well, it was worth a shot, but now your ribs have been cracked like uncooked spaghetti, and your redneck kids are crying in the bleachers.
– “Yeee-Haw!”, May 2004

As for the old archive stuff, well you’re just going to have to imagine how funny they were with pictures. Be creative! Pretend the red X’s and Angelfire logos are point of view pictures of me or some stationary object.
– “New Wave Jacket”, May 2004

I’m going to go and puke now. Then I’m going to enjoy my last Friday of unemployment in front of the television.
– “Everything Is A-OK”, May 2004

So the next time you come back here, expect something different from the usual talk. I’ll bring something different to the potluck dinner, as long as you promise to bring your little plastic sporks and foons.
– “Sinneslochen Syndrome”, May 2004

Take all the stress caused by co-workers, fear of failure and rejection, 5 days of crappy microwavable lunches and SHOVE THEM STRAIGHT UP YOUR CHUTE, YA BIG PANSY! Get right over it, and shut your mouth before someone realizes you don’t belong there. Enjoy your weekend while it’s here, Ryan. Live the same way everyone else does, 2 days a week. You only deserve 40-some hours to yourself a week anyways, considering how much time you’ve pissed away over the years. You deserve to be punished for your 3 years of daytime television and online gaming. 3 years of bad essays and The Price Is Right. Don’t talk anymore about how bad you have it, because your girlfriend just watched a homeless man throw a phone at someone because his welfare check didn’t show up. This happened while you were alphabetizing index cards in your cubicle, mumbling about when you could go on break. I’d punch you in the head if I had arms, but I don’t. I’m only your conscience. I’m leaving now. Go to hell.
– “Casual Friday”, June 2004

I dreamed that I was in my Grandparents’ driveway on the hood of my car, talking to a cloud in the middle of the night. The cloud said something to me about dragons and witchery, and began to swoop down to me. I screamed myself awake, and my nose started bleeding.
– “I’ll Mess With Texas”, June 2004

On Sunday night, I had a dream that a man threatened me with a scissors, forcing me out of a bathroom with my pants around my ankles so his daughter could use it. My only display of defiance was as I was taking baby steps out the door, yelling to him, “You’re the worst French ambassador we’ve ever had!”
– “I’ll Mess With Texas”, June 2004

So shut your mouth about trying to make me disappear off of your change, Conservative America. FDR’s here to stay! If any of you have a problem with it, so help me, I’ll get right up off of this Hoveround and kick you square in the sack. Don’t even test me.
– “Paid Endorsement”, June 2004

The opinions, views and foul language expressed by deceased President Roosevelt do not necessarily reflect me or the Communist Dance Party. Deceased President Roosevelt offered the Communist Dance Party a sum of money to use our page as an outlet for his expressed views.
– “Paid Endorsement”, June 2004

Allow me to get a little personal for a paragraph here. I did everything I could not to cry. I sang songs in my head, refused to stare her in the eye, and laughed at nothing for as long as I could. But once I had to take her hands, and let her know how much she meant to me, I just couldn’t handle it. I recovered quickly, but I did have several welling tears. Luckily for me, there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. Rumor has it that even old Ben was shedding a tear or two, but out of respect for his masculinity I will not confirm or deny these accusations. I’ve never been sadder or happier in my life.
– “06-19-2004”, June 2004

Everyone knows how much I adore the rave culture. I bet this guy was happy as a Christmas clam when he saw how much of my page I had devoted to just what he was looking for. Glow sticks at bargain basement prices, pictures of ballrooms squished to the rafters with skeletal ninnies and pacifiers. If I wanted to have a dry-hump fest with a hundred filthy people I didn’t want to talk to, I would come back to Winneconne for the street dance more often.
– “Search Me!”, July 2004

Kids today can communicate with everyone they know via the interweb. It’s a miracle, really. Granted, it’s just like the telephone, but you can’t make emoticons on the telephone. You could, but they wouldn’t pan out as well as in text form. Permit me to demonstrate:
Caller #1 – “Guess what! Eyes wide open!”
Caller #2 – “What? Mouth agape?”
Caller #1 – “I asked out the captain of the rugby team! Blushing!”
Caller #2 – “Waving tiny American flags!”
– “Janna Has A Chin”, July 2004

People, please read a book. Hell, read the dictionary. Our ability to communicate in a clear and coherent manner is what evolves us into creatures able to accomplish lots of amazing things in life. To think that kids are using things like “IMHO” in a book report make me want to hang their parents from the highest branch. I could go on, but I think you understand the point I’m trying to make here. Technology is no excuse for stupidity.
– “Janna Has A Chin”, July 2004

Upon reading this, I went through rapid stages of behavior much like those in coping with the death of a loved one. Almost instantly, I denied it. I thought if I didn’t look at it, it would cease to exist in front of me. No more than 2 seconds later, I fell right into anger. I got so furious looking at it over and over again, that my right ear started to ooze a thick brown fluid. Luckily for me, before I knew it I was in stage 3, bargaining. I was offering promises of sainthood and good deeds to my monitor if it would, in return, make it go away. I had to do everything I could to undo what I had seen. Soon thereafter, I slipped into a deep depression. I knew that future generations were doomed, and there would never be a good book written after 2010. The fluid started to pour again. I’m still waiting for the 5th stage, acceptance, to arrive. Until then, I have my fingers on the keys, and a Kleenex wedged in my ear.
– “Janna Has A Chin”, July 2004

My 130-pound frame, coupled with my complete lack of alcohol retention means that I don’t have to drink nearly anything to impair myself. I’m usually not looking to impair myself, because my ability to get sick far outreaches my ability to enjoy liquor. A nice Cosmopolitan might be good for an hour, but when you fall off the bed everytime you shut your eyes, you start to wonder if there was a better way to spend that 6 bucks.
– “Candy Mountain”, August 2004

I had no idea what was going on. Sure, it burned like hell and tasted like gasoline, but every place makes their drinks differently. I figured that this bartender was having an off night, in reality he was pouring me a 39 dollar drink.
– “Candy Mountain”, August 2004

Here’s to monotony. It’s all we’ve got, and most of us don’t even deserve it. Don’t worry if you feel like you’re going nowhere, because at least you know you’re not sliding backwards. Look around. You’ve got a job, a place to stay and someone who loves you nearby. What did you do to deserve that much anyways? Don’t push your luck, loser.
– “Sick Day – Part Deux”, August 2004

While some people like to look down at chain eateries, I actually prefer them to a hole in the wall or an expensive bistro. Give me an Olive Garden or Damon’s any day of the week, I say!
– “Marinated String Cheese”, August 2004

While most people celebrate their being of legal drinking age by getting thoroughly trashed, I settled in with a non-alcoholic beverage and whined about my life being mostly over. It was clichéd and stereotypical of what most boring emo-guys would do when faced with a change in life, but anything else from me would have been quite unexpected and wrong. We went back to the house, where I’m certain we were asleep by 10pm.
– “Marinated Ctring Cheese”, August 2004

But I’m not an entirely normal teenager-turned-adult. Most of the time, I refuse to acknowledge what people my age “should” be doing, simply because I hate most people my age and don’t want to play ball with them. For the most part, I dislike my generation immensely for what they’ve done to my attention span, and for what people think of me just by looking at me. The boring originality and angst of generation-X was diluted by the media and given a suicidal makeover with pre-ripped pants and name brand plaid. I, of course, fell right into line in the last 2 years. Sure, I look a lot better now and my clothes are much more expensive, but my insides ache for the fashion nightmare I used to be. Make no mistake about it; I really don’t like my generation as a whole.
– “Marinated String Cheese”, August 2004

While this should be obvious to anyone who knows me, I all but break out into a rash when I’m around more than 4 people at a time.
– “Marinated String Cheese”, August 2004

Being able to successfully make someone laugh heartily is one of the best feelings in the world, as far as I’m concerned.
– “Marinated String Cheese”, August 2004

You learn something new every day. Sometimes, if you’re really lucky, you’ll learn more.
– Marinated String Cheese”, August 2004

After several hours in New Glarus, I started to feel jealous. I wanted to be Swiss, or at the very least, live in Little Switzerland. These people represented everything I loved in a culture. Non-violence, fine wines and cheese, land-locked for minimal contact with water.
– “Fondue For Two”, August 2004

Now, everyone has their fantasies. Some guys wonder what it would be like to sleep with 2 women at the same time. Others think about what it would be like to win the lottery. My fantasy has always been to play Mini-Golf and then go Bowling immediately afterwards.
– “Fondue For Two”, August 2004

Say what you want about the idea of a Croatian basketball team, at least they know the value of teamwork.
– “Dagger Vision”, August 2004

I don’t like babies very much, but at least they don’t know what they’re doing.
– “Fat Kid Dunk Tank”, August 2004

Good luck with the move, and all the responsibilities that come with it. If I have any decent advice to give, it would be to not fight irrationally about money, work out a spending plan, and keep the place clean. Nothing makes someone more uncomfortable than coming home to a dirty house and a lazy spouse. Ben, I’m obviously talking to you.
– “Fat Kid Dunk Tank”, August 2004

Watching the decathlon on the Olympics reminds me of when I was doing the shot put in 5th grade Gym class. I tried to throw it like a baseball, and tore everything in my arm from the shoulder to elbow. Then I pretended to throw it at a passing car, and the old man behind the wheel gave me the finger.
– “Fat Kid Dunk Tank”, August 2004

Joy is like peeing your pants. Everyone can see it, but only you can feel the warmth.
– “Casual August”, August 2004

I came home from work today to find the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile parked right outside of my house.
– “I Am The Secretary”, August 2004

I’m going to make a great housewife once we have a kid. I’m already starting a scrapbook.
– “I Am The Secretary”, August 2004

I promise that once we’re all settled in, we’ll have a big housewarming party, and you’ll be invited. Unless I don’t know you. Or unless I know you but don’t care for you.
– “I Am The Secretary”, August 2004

But seriously, going from something as beautiful as Athens to the sight of thousands of Conservatives is like winning a thousand dollars, then slamming your nuts in a patio door. You’re too confused to be hurt.
– “I Am The Secretary”, August 2004

I’m well accustomed to moving. Since the age of 9, I’ve been bouncing around from house to house, scattering possessions and pitching heirlooms into the trash. When you have to load and unload boxes of things you never knew you had, you start to wonder why you have it in the first place.
– “Stairs Make A Man Mean”, September 2004

We’ve already put a significant gouge in the wall. I have blisters. A treadmill fell on my pinkie toe. I can’t wait to finish moving, but Celia might be living there by herself while I’m up in traction.
– “Stairs Make A Man Mean”, September 2004

Preparing to run the front desk is similar to the night before Christmas, only with more vomiting.
– “Stairs Make A Man Mean”, September 2004

I was 19, and working at the Larsen Co-Op. We saw the attacks on the television in the auto repair waiting room. Some people cried, others just left. Celia had spent the day home from school because she was sick, so she slept through most of it. That night, I went to get gas for my car, and saw a line going down the street from the Co-Op. I went in and helped my manager check people out until we ran out of gas. I then went home, where I didn’t sleep for 2 days. The End.
– “My September 9-11”, September 2004

It shouldn’t take something horrible to get us all on the same page. I’m old enough to realize that complete unity is impossible, but it still doesn’t mean you should be an ass. This is a great country. I can say whatever I want here, it can be read by a billion people, and I’m not afraid the Government will saw my hands off. We need to make sure it stays this way. It’s closer to changing than you think.
– “My September 9-11”, September 2004

I stumbled back a few steps, almost going unconscious. When I was younger, I received a concussion at the hands of an aluminum baseball bat and a fat former friend. This felt exactly the same way. Shaking off the cobwebs and feeling the blood start to pour out of my swollen mouth, I made a beeline for the bathroom.
– “White Collar Concussion”, September 2004

I got hit in the mouth with the microphone I was using, and the braces dug themselves into my lips. I can still feel the imprint of the brackets when I run my tongue along the bottom of my mouth. What have we learned about me? I’m clumsy, and I get hit in the head a lot.
– “White Collar Concussion”, September 2004

Coming from a young family, death is an issue I have very limited experience with. I don’t wish to become more experienced in it, but it’s inevitable. You have to deal with these things as they arise, as you could never possibly prepare for them. One thing I’ve found helps a lot is to have at least one person with whom to confide in. That’s all you really need, and it can make a big difference. Don’t bother trying to run from the train, it’s going to run you over eventually, just accept it and get as ready as you can.
– “Back For The Attack!” September 2004

Within days, I’ll be able to sit down and write again, and make myself a sandwich without having to drive across the street to my fridge.
– “Back For The Attack!”, September 2004

I can’t help but wonder if I could pull off a nice thick ‘stache. Sure, I would have to quite literally go years without shaving, but I think it could really send my look in a new direction. Straight to the top of the corporate ladder! Finally get the respect I always thought I deserved! More attention from the opposite sex! More attention from the same sex! All because I took a chance, and started grooming a small portion of my upper lip.
– “New Wave Mustache”, September 2004

I’m currently taking the necessary steps for me to be able to be promoted, should they think that highly of me. Honestly though, I’m pretty sure I should just get nice and comfortable here in the mailroom.
– “New Wave Mustache”, September 2004

If you’re a Democrat or anyone who wants Bush gone, last night couldn’t have gone any better had Kerry shot him dead right there behind the podium.
– “Electile Dysfunction”, October 2004

In an ongoing effort to cleanse myself of everything that makes me a jackass to be around, I swore the stuff off to just to see if I could. Turns out I could, but it was absolutely no fun at all. If anyone tells you that caffeine isn’t an addictive drug, I’d be more than happy to tell them about the sleepless nights spent sweating on my basement floor, joints aching, shivering uncontrollably. It sucked, but I went ahead and gave it up anyways, because I’m strong like a bear.
– “Jitterized”, October 2004

I’m not running for President or anything, but I know that if you plan on invading a country, you should at least know how to get out of there correctly. Common sense will tell you that.
– “Jitterized”, October 2004

If you think he used to be good-looking, he has a beard now. Imagine an egg with a beard, and you’ll get a pretty good idea of what he looks like. I tried to find a good picture, but even the Internet has standards.
– “The Price I Pay”, October 2004

You probably don’t know him, but I would willingly donate my teeth to the homeless for the chance to put this guy in the Hospital for 23 years.
– “The Price I Pay”, October 2004

‘Nuff said. The World Series is going back to Boston, and the Yankees were humiliated in historic fashion. Johnny Damon looks just like my Dad.
– “Wicked Good”, October 2004

It seems pretty obvious that I wouldn’t like Country music, but it’s not entirely true. Old school Country music was wonderful, fearless, rugged stuff that was truly emotional and great to listen to. This new breed of anthemic, name-brand dropping, tragedy-trashing Country pop is enough to make me go on a redneck-killing spree. I won’t, however, because I’m an artist.
– “Country Mu-Suck”, October 2004

Us kids sank thousands of dollars into that practice room, and what did we ever get from it? Well, me and Ben got wives out of the deal, so we’re pretty happy about that.
– “Country Mu-Suck”, October 2004

Much like the Kennedy assasination and September 11, everyone knows where they were when they saw Ashlee Simpson’s career crumble before their very eyes.
– “Bush: Portrait Of A Serial Killer”, October 2004

Part 2 is next, kids.