Marty's Writings

How I Learned About Tax

2012-09-28T18:47:00.003-07:00

When I was seven I lived with my friends family for two weeks. I still have no idea why this happened. When ever I think about why it happened, my mind only goes to one thing. Where were my brothers during those two weeks? Were they at a friends house? Were they at home? They would have been 13 and 15 respectively at the time. I suppose that is old enough for them to stay at home by themselves, but young enough that they couldn't be trusted to watch me.

They proved they couldn't watch me when I was four. I wanted some ice cream. They were probably having ice cream. I never would have thought of having ice cream on my own. I couldn't have scooped it either. I was a weak child.

The ice cream was too cold. It needed warmed up. I put it in the microwave. It was an old fashioned microwave. No buttons. Just some dials that you turned. I didn't know how the thing worked. I just turned the dial all the way.

My ice cream cooked in that microwave for 35 minutes. That's how far the dial went. The ice cream was now too hot. It was also just a puddle. I did the only thing I knew how to do as a kid. I cried, a lot. My brothers wouldn't scoop me more ice cream. I already had ice cream that I had to eat. Eventually, I ate the melted ice cream. Maybe that's why I don't like soup.

Maybe my brothers weren't home alone. It could have been that I just had to leave the house for two weeks. Either way, I'm fairly certain that they were at home for those two weeks. If they were to stay somewhere else, it would have been with the same family I stayed with. My whole family and my friend's whole family were best friends.

Whatever the reason was, it happened. Two things happened during the time that I stayed at my friends house. That I remember at least. It was two weeks. I'm sure more than two things happened.

The first is that I went to church with them. This was years before my family went to church with any kind of regularity. I didn't know anything about church. It got worse because my friend was born in 1984. I was born in 1985. This meant that the Sunday School class he was in, was one class higher than the class I should have been in. I would have been the dumb kid in my Sunday School class. I shouldn't have been skipped ahead like this. Surely they wouldn't ask me questions. I shouldn't of been in this class. They'd realize that and not ask me questions about religion.

I was the first one asked to answer a question. I didn't know anything about religion. Not a good excuse. I'm sure none of the kids in that class actually knew anything about religion. I answered the question the only way I knew how to. I cried, a lot. It was embarrassing. This just wasn't a bunch of random kids and my friend that I was crying in front of. I knew all the other kids from school. For some reason this incident never got brought up again. I'd still be mentioning it, had it have been someone else that cried.

The second thing I remember about those two weeks is the time we went to the mall. They had a lot of kids. I was like the seventh or eighth wheel. All of the kids were given a dollar to spend at the mall. I got one of those dollars. This was awesome. My mom never gave me a dollar when I went to the mall with her. I'd usually just say 'I want that' and she'd get it. I never bothered to look at the price. I was probably asking for stuff that costed way less than a dollar. I was going to make it rain with this dollar.

The six of us kids all got a dollar. We were all going to make it rain in that mall. That mall was going to remember us. We all went separate ways. We had different ideas on how to make it rain.

I made it rain in Toys 'R Us. I was into baseball and basketball cards as a kid. What kid wasn't? I'm told some of those cards are worth money now. Maybe there are. I don't have the time to find out. Then find some sucker that will buy them.

I found a pack that was only a dollar. Just my luck. I had a dollar. For some reason, they keep the dollar pack of cards behind glass. I had to ask the grown man behind the counter to grab it for me. In reality, it was probably a 16-year-old kid. But to me, he was a fully grown adult with a great life. His future, and his families future, was secure with his job at Toys 'R Us.

He rang up my dollar pack of cards. Then he asked me for one dollar and six cents. One dollar and six cents? What was this? I only had a dollar. I did what I always did in these situations. I cried, a lot. At least I wasn't crying in front of my friend this time. He was somewhere else in the mall, making it rain.

In fact, I was the only one in the Toys 'R Us. Except for the grown adult, supporting his family of four with his job at Toys 'R Us, behind the counter. The fact that there was only one customer in the Toys 'R Us and he only had a dollar to spend, probably explains why Toys 'R Us left that mall a year later.

The wealthy man behind the counter tried to explain something to me about tax. That's why my dollar pack of cards was one dollar and six cents. How was I supposed to know what tax was? The paper sign had a one on it. That's how much I had. I should be able to have my pack of cards. Him trying to explain to me how tax worked only made my cry harder.

I got my pack of cards. The millionaire behind the counter took care of the six cents. A drop in the bucket for him.

There was only four cards in the pack. I had never seen this before. The packs my mom bought me always had at least ten. I felt like I had been taken. Especially since my friend had gotten some Gobstoppers with his dollar. That box had at least 20 Gobstoppers in it. It wasn't fair. He was more experienced than me. This obviously wasn't the first dollar he had spent. I was a rookie when it came to the spending a dollar game.

I did learn one thing about money that day though. The value of crying is six cents.

Marty Breaks Down Prodigal Sons

2012-09-27T19:00:00.001-07:00

Paul McKerrow was born in a small town in Montana. He was voted 'best looking' and 'most likely to succeed'. The star quarterback, the star basketball player, valedictorian and a ladies man. Paul McKerrow had it all. Upon graduating, he went to the University of California, Berkley.

Paul McKerrow never went back to Montana. He never will, because Paul McKerrow is now Kimberly Reed. It's been 20 years since Kimberly, then Paul, left Montana and for her 20th high school reunion, Kimberly decides to go back and make a documentary.

Sounds like a pretty good story line for a documentary. Only that's not the most compelling thing about this documentary. It's barely a side story. The star of this documentary is Kimberly's brother, Marc McKerrow.

The story starts at the high school reunion. Kimberly is received well at the reunion. It's at the reunion that we are introduced to Marc. Marc is adopted and was only a grade ahead of Kimberly in high school. So it isn't weird for him to be at the reunion. He is weird though. We find that out when he just randomly tells people about having to file for bankruptcy.

Marc was always in Paul's shadow in high school. He wasn't the sports star and he certainly wasn't the popular one. He was just Paul's brother.

Marc suffered severe brain damage in a car crash at the age of 21.

The brain damage left him mentally incapacitated. He became prone to seizures. He'd frequently succumb to violent fits of rage. We first see one of these hilarious fits of rage when he explains his crash and what it did to him. Complete with breaking a glass picture frame.

It's then that we meet Todd McKerrow. The youngest of the McKerrow kids. It's unclear as to why he is ever in the documentary. He isn't really needed. He's doesn't really communicate with family anymore. I think he is just thrown into the documentary because it's somewhat interesting that he is gay. He does show up at the family Christmas gathering. Where he plays a key role in the greatest scene in cinema history. His appearance at the family event seems to be more for sake of the documentary than anything. I certainly don't think it's because he likes his family

The McKerrow family consists of Kimberly, who was born Paul. Todd, the least interesting of the family as he is just gay. Then we have Marc. Who is severely developmentally challenged and frequently violent. Quite the family

The documentary jumps around a lot. It's not a hinderance though. Each time it does jump, it gets more interesting.

It's at this point that we, and Marc, learn about Marc's biological family. He does get to see his mom. He got to go to her funeral. It's only shortly after her death that Marc learns the identity of his mom.

It's Rebecca Welles. The daughter of Orson Welles and Rita Hayworth. Marc's birth was a secret. Something that was quite common back then with families or prominence. Orson never knew of his grandson. It's likely Rita didn't know about Marc either.

Marc's grandparents are the great Rita Hayworth and Orson Welles. Learning that Marc exists, the lover of Orson Welles at the time of his death, Oja Kodar, wants to meet him.

The documentary then moves to Croatia. Where Marc meets the lover of Orson Welles for the last 20 years of his life. The only interesting things that come out of this are that we learn that Marc is married and has a daughter A fact that is only briefly brought up again. I feel like Kimberly should have spent more time on Marc's family. Marc also shows a picture that makes Kimberly uncomfortable in Croatia. It's of himself, Todd and Paul as young boys.

Kimberly is embarrassed by the picture. Being that she is now standing in front of these people as a woman. She confronts Marc about this. The scene is a little awkward, since Kimberly is in a swimsuit as the argument takes place. The argument ends with Kimberly saying how good Marc's shirt makes him look.

This is when the documentary briefly gets boring. It start to focus too much on Kimberly. She goes to San Francisco. Where we see the apartment she rented as a male. When she moved out of the apartment, she was a female.

After the brief foray into boredom, we get back to the good stuff. Kimberly goes to Spokane to see Marc and his family. She also plans on driving a truck, that Marc has, back to Montana. The truck mention seems pointless at first. It pays off in the end though.

Kimberly wants to drive the truck back in the morning. The gas gauge is broken. It's been broken for years, but Marc decides he wants it fixed right now. Hilarity ensues.

Marc gets some choice words in and some good hits, but Kimberly gets the last laugh. She leaves with the truck.

We then hear a phone message from Marc, apologizing for reacting in such a way about a stupid truck.

Things fade to black. That's when it happens. The greatest scene in cinema history. I'm not even going to say anything about it. It's that great.

The cops come after that. As far as I'm concerned, the documentary is over after that.

To not leave you hanging though, I'll continue. He threatened everyone with a kitchen knife and is taken to jail.

The documentary ends with Marc going to several hospitals and having many psychiatric evaluations.

Marc McKerrow died in 2010. Shortly after Kimberly appeared on Oprah for her documentary.

One is the loneliest number, 28 is the scariest

2012-09-27T12:17:00.000-07:00

I just agree with people when they say I moved to New York City to chase the dream, when in reality, I did it to run towards my fear.

In 2007, I took a beginning acting class at Utah State University. I was below a beginner. There were maybe three people in there that had any real acting skills. Not to say that no one else had any potential. At this point, even I could probably do a decent acting job. There was only about 15 people in the class. None of us knew each other, except for the three with real acting skills. I assume it's because they had other acting type classes together. It wasn't like there were best friends.

I never would have hung out with any of these people before the class. I never did after the class. During the class, I only hung out with any of them once. On the last day of class, half of us went to Olive Garden. To this day, it's one of the best times I've had. I kept in brief contact with one girl from the class. But that died out after a few years. Other than having two or three people from the class as Facebook friends, I've had no contact with anyone in that class for years. Hell, I don't even know most of their names anymore, just personal details. Even with that, I'll never forget any of them and in a way, they know me better than anyone else.

As I look back, there wasn't really much acting or learning about acting taking place. It was really just group therapy. Which I've since learned, is fairly common for acting classes.

I think it was the second week of class. We were each taking turns saying the thing in life that scares us the most. No one was taking it seriously. Everyone just said the stock scary things: snakes, spiders, ghosts, heights etc... I don't even remember what I said.

After we all gave lame answers, the teacher expressed his disappointment. He wasn't mad, just disappointed. That's when the weirdest, most misfit of us started speaking. Which is saying a lot. We were a class of misfits. We were all such misfits, that none of us fit in with each other.

I don't remember what he said, or maybe I just don't think you should know, but there was a lot of crying. From him and everyone else in the class. One by one, everyone re-answered the question of what scared them the most. Some were funny, some were tear jerkers and some were in between. But there was real emotion behind all of them. Class went about 30 minutes longer than scheduled that day. No one cared. I doubt anyone even noticed. We all sat there as everyone said the thing they fear most and once we were done, we continued to sit. Mostly in silence.

I took my turn somewhere in there. It was sometime in high school when I really started to think about the rest of my life. What would my life be like when i was older? What would it look like? Being a teenager, I had all kinds of fantasies. Some realistic, some outlandish. But in thinking out the rest of my life, all of the possibilities had one thing in common. Not one of them had me being older than 28.

I thought nothing of it at the time. I had more than 10 years until I turned 28. But as I finished high school, I did start to notice it. Why was I never over 28 when I pictured myself? Even in my outlandish dreams about my life, like being a pro-athlete, I was still never over 28.

I thought about it a lot after I realized it. It started to gnaw at me. By the time I took that acting class, I had convinced myself that the reason was because I wasn't going to live past then. I was 22, and the only question I had about it, was whether I'd die at 28 or if I'd get to live until 29.

My fear didn't end when I told the class about it. They continued for quite some time. Telling people didn't dispel the fear, but it did help me feel like I could tell these people anything else. Things that helped me in other ways. It helped me open up a little bit in my acting. Not saying that it still was atrocious.

It was about that time that I was taking the idea of doing stand-up comedy seriously. That's partly why I took the class. I figured it would help in some small way. Little did I know how big of a help it would be.

I didn't actually step on a comedy stage until late 2009. Two years after the class. But I can say with certainty, I never would have gotten on stage if it weren't for that class. The class helped me open up a bit.

Two years into being a stand-up, things were going well and I started to think about the future. That's when I noticed something. I was picturing myself past the age of 28. I could see myself doing stand-up at 30, 40, 50, 60...

That's it though. I still couldn't see myself doing anything else. It's still that way. Everything I see me doing past the age of 28 is still me on stage. Sometimes I'm not on stage. I'm sitting at a table, just talking with other comics. But that's it. I still haven't been able to see myself doing something not comedy related.

I see no girlfriends, wife, kids or different job. Maybe they'll come. But I can't envision it.

That's why I moved. Things were good for me in Salt Lake. Really good. I probably would have eventually made something of myself in comedy had I stayed there. But I can't wait. I left for New York to speed up the process. Even if it essentially means starting over at first. And likely, never amounting to anything.

I can't take the slow road. I can't take the chance that maybe 28 is it. Because in my mind, it is. Until I turn 29, I'll always believe that. Comedy is the one thing that gives me hope, that maybe it isn't.

Still Standing There

2008-09-02T08:33:00.001-07:00

This makes a little more sense if you read this one too, Goodbye.

I have a cabin at Bear Lake. A cabin where I can do whatever I want. Go whenever I want and take whomever I want.

It’s weird looking back. All the parties there, the late nights, blue-darts, crazy hook-ups, the eerie sounds at night, the people showing up that no one knew, the cold nights, the hot nights, the friends, the babes, the days on the lake and did I mention the crazy hook-ups? It’s weird looking back on all of that now. Because none of it ever happened.

I don’t even know where the cabin is. I don’t want to.

I only have one image of the cabin in my head. That’s of it sitting on a trailer, ready to be moved.

I barely remember the grounds where the cabin now sits. An area surrounded by trees, an area with no trees, just big enough for a cabin to sit. Standing in the treeless patch you had a clear view of the stunning blue water of Bear Lake. That’s all I remember of it.

I never saw that cabin come off that trailer. I know it now sits in that treeless patch facing the blue waters of Bear Lake, but I can’t go back there. I don’t know where it is. I don’t want to know.

It’s been 18 years since I last saw that cabin sitting on the trailer. It’s the only image of the cabin I have and it’s one to many. I don’t want any images of that cabin in my head. I have a hard time just going back to Bear Lake; I could never look at that cabin again.

When I said goodbye two years ago, I thought it would be easier. I knew I could never go to Bear Lake without the memories coming back. But I thought I could at least go to Bear Lake without the tears.

I was wrong, as my latest trip to Bear Lake showed. The tears still follow. I was also wrong in not wanting them to follow, or thinking they wouldn’t follow just because I said goodbye.

I’m still standing there. Standing near the lake, the cabin on the trailer in front of me. A part of me will always just be standing at Bear Lake. Saying goodbye didn’t change that. I realize that now. Now, I’m glad a part of me is still standing there. Standing there helps me remember.

Some things should always bring tears to your eyes.

I used to try and stall the tears that followed me to Bear Lake. I’d try to keep myself occupied. Keep my mind on other things. But they’d always come. Whether they came at the lake when I’d have a moment to myself or when I’d get back home, the tears would always come.

I used to think the day would come when the tears would stop following me to Bear Lake. But now, 18 years later, I don’t think they are going to. The tears still follow me to Bear Lake and I don’t want the day to come when they don’t.

Marty's Take On Batman

2008-07-30T12:44:00.000-07:00

People always obsess over the new. It's the ADD society we live in. Whatever is the latest, is the coolest. Remember Pogs? Remember when people first learned about 'Family Guy'? It's still just as funny. What about 'The Office'. Is it really not as good as it used to be or is it just not new? How about 98% of the crap on the radio? Seems good for the first few months right? None of it holds up though. I seem to remember a little thing called "I'm Rick James bitch". How come no one says that anymore? It's not new and fresh anymore.

Sure, the cool stuff holds up. It does come back down to earth though. Michael Jackson, he was huge in the 80's. He could do whatever he wanted and he did. Now, he's not so cool. His songs are still good though. No matter how many kids he serves Jesus Juice to. Hell, if it were possible, I would have had sex with my TiVo when I first got it. But eight years later, I'd probably stop after a little making out.

Sure Batman was good, but it wasn't 'freak out' good. Most people would have sex with the movie if they could. I wouldn't. I'd probably just undress it with my eyes a little. I'd stop before I got the movie naked. Weird birth marks would start to be seen as articles of clothing come off. Those weird birth marks are the defects in the movie. And there are quite a few.

Give it time, and Batman hoopla will die down. People won't want to have sex with it anymore. They'll just want to make out with it a little. As for me, I'll finally be able to act as if it never existed. I don't mind birth marks, but when the movie is covered in them, we have a problem.

Yeah, it's probably going to go down as the Best Comic book movie ever. But is that really any kind of accomplishment? Sure the movie was good, but it isn't really worth talking about in my mind. I only bring it up to bring some of you back down to earth. It's just not that good.

Problem one and as many other problems I feel like mentioning at this point. It's 2 1/2 freaking hours long. It doesn't need to be. I seriously felt like I watched 2 movies after seeing it. It's not the fact that it was long that makes it seem like 2 movies in one. The whole Two-Face thing, that's it's own movie. As it is, it seems forced in there. It's like they had a circle, but the only hole they could find was a square. Sure, the circle went into the square whole eventually, but it left the circle deformed.

Take out the last half hour of the movie and no one complains. In fact, the movie is better if you do that.

Four times, I thought the movie was over. Four times, I was wrong. The first time I was fine with it. The second, third and fourth times, I was pissed. It just kept dragging on and on. And when it finally did end, it was bout 'effing time.

No one understands what's really happening. Even after multiple viewings people are still confused. I've heard countless people say, "I didn't really know what was going on, so I just started watching it for the cool stuff. Then I went again."

They still don't get it after that. I'm all for having stuff in a movie that you won't really get in one viewing. That's part of what makes movies good, rewatchability. But if I have to watch a movie again to understand the main plot of what's going on, not only am I not going to do it, doing so would be retarded. If you didn't get it the first, second or third time, why the hell would you know what's going on the next time?

The plot problem could probably be fixed by not trying to jam two stories into one. The way it is though, you're not sure what stuff goes with what story line. Like when they randomly just throw in foreshadowing for second contrived story that deserves it's own movie. It's confusing.

The movie is visually stunning, I'll give it that. I did see it in Imax though, so maybe that clouds my judgement a little. If I want something visually stunning, I'll just watch Planet Earth. At least I can understand Planet Earth. Like the time that crazy bird just danced around so he could get some chicks. I knew exactly what was going on. Not to mention it was hilarious. Or better yet I'll just walk outside if I want something visually stunning.

The movie also seems to suffer from what I call the Indiana Jones problem. It's the 'we havnen't blown enough stuff up or had enough people running around for no real reason yet' problem. Compared to Indiana Jones, Batman barely suffers from it. But there is still a lot of stuff that just happens just because they can do it.

Those are just a few of the problems with the movie. It's not like they are huge problems. The movie is still a 7.5 or maybe an 8 tops. My biggest problem with the movie is that people have blown it out of proportion and given it like a 12.

Another thing.

Does anyone realize that per minute, the movie costed 1.2 million? 152 minutes of movie, compared to a budget in the area of 180 million. A figure that is made even more ridiculous when you think about the fact that at least 30 minutes of the movie could have been cut out, without ruining anything. As I've mentioned before, the movie would be made better if certain crap was taken out. They could have taken the 30 million plus saved and put it towards the sequel.

Repost: Ledge the Legend

2008-07-23T12:27:00.001-07:00

For some reason, I have no clue why, Ledge the Legend is back in the news. I've decided to repost what I wrote immediately following his death. Keep in mind, this was written less than 24 hours after his death, so some of the information is faulty. But it's the only information they had at the time. I did reread it and I would like to add a couple of things. I'll add the new stuff in Italics.

The edit at the very end of the note, is an edit I did a day after the original post.

The next Matt Damon.

A young Marlon Brando.

Those words have been used to describe one man. He was more than a man. He was a living legend. Now he's a dead legend.

As many of you probably already know, actor extraordinaire Heath Ledger died yesterday. Taken from us to soon. He had so much more to do in his life. Like act in some more movies. Don't worry though, he's got one more move left in him. He'll be in the new Batman movie. Does anyone know when the Batman movie is coming out? I haven't heard anything. I kind of want to see it, but it's like they ran out of money for promoting the movie. I heard it was supposed to out this summer, but I haven't heard anything about it yet.

He was also in the middle of filming some other movie. They will probably just re-cast his role, but here is what they should do. It's called 'The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus'. Not to be confused with 'Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium', which came out last year.

They have to re-cast his role. Someone has to play it. But the stuff Heath has already filmed, keep it in the movie. It would be a great homage. And since they film movies out of order it would also be hilarious. You'd get Heath in one scene and then some other dude in the next. I recommend getting Zac Efron. Turns out this is exactly what they are doing, at least as far as I understand, that is what they are doing. Three fourths or so of the movie had been filmed at the time of his death, so a lot of it will be him. Sadly, when they re-casted, they didn't choose Zac Efron. They did do something better though. They chose multiple people. Johnny Depp, Colin Ferrel and Jude Law were all re-cast. This is going to be great.

Heath Andrew Ledger, sometimes he'd go by Heathcliff. You gotta love that. He was destined for stardom. He never took an acting class and he never graduated high school. He was just a natural. Acted on instincts is how he put it.

He started in Australia. He played a gay olympic hopeful. Cyclist I think it was. Then he comes to America and he pretty much immediately gets a role in 10 Things I Hate About You. A movie that had a sweet high school in it.

I think he actually got his first american role in The Patriot. 10 Things I Hate About You was just released first. He was discovered by Mel Gibson. Mel freaking Gibson.

He then went on to make 3 million for his role in A Knight's Tale. A movie that I get confused with First Knight. I don't remember which one is which. I still get them confused to this day. It used to piss me off, but now I like that I can't keep them straight. Heath Ledger's legend will always live on in my mind if I keep confusing the two movies.

He then went on to do Monster's Ball. A movie made famous by Halle Berry's boobs.

He didn't really do any movies of consequence again until 2005, when he was in The Brothers Grimm.

He was also nominated for for an Oscar in 2005. It was for his role in some western. At least I think it was western. I saw a preview for the movie once and he was wearing a cowboy hat, so I assume it was a western. He had this real rough and tough sidekick in it played by Jake Gyllenhaal. I bet they went around raising some hell in that movie. Shooting people up. Stuff like that.

He lost the Oscar though. Philip Seymour Hoffman won for his role in Capote. That was a movie I did see. It was good. A brilliant acting job by Hoffman. I can see why Heath lost. Although they should probably go back in time and take the Oscar from Hoffman and give it to Heath. It would be a way of paying respect to The Ledge. Hoffman will have more opportunities to win an Oscar. Ledger won't have any more, he's dead and he sure won't get one for a stupid Batman movie.

Why didn't people call Heath Ledger The Ledge? They should have. I'm gonna start calling him Ledge the Legend.

But just like Ledge the Legend lost his Oscar, he's now lost his life. The good news is we still have one more blockbuster coming from Ledge the Legend. The Dark Knight should be out sometime this summer. The bad news is that people are saying his portrayal of The Joker isn't as good as previous actors who played the same role. I find this hard to believe. Ledge the Legend is a legend. He doesn't do bad acting.

(I just realized that I am now going to get First Knight, A Knight's Tale and The Dark Knight all confused with each other. It's even going to be more confusing than before. Especially since Ledge the Legend is in two of them. Then again, Ledge the Legend will live on in my mind forever, so that is good.)

Perhaps Ledger's greatest role came in bagging an Olsen twin. (Although if he had done this 5 years earlier he would have been a god in the eyes of many. He was a little late on the Olsen twin train. But still, it was an Olsen twin. A freaking Olsen twin.) The problem with that movie is that the ending wasn't very good. It just ended with him dying naked on Mary-Kates bed, a bottle of sleeping pills nearby.

May Heath 'The Legend' Ledger live on forever in our hearts.

*edit*

Turns out it wasn't Mary-Kates apartment he was found in. That was just some bad snap judgment journalism from someone. That rumor is all but dead now. But he could have bagged an Olsen twin had he wanted to. He was still found naked in an apartment by a masseuse he ordered. It appears it was his apartment though. Now his final role was just a bad movie. Both the beginning and ending were bad.

It appears as if Heath is the front runner for Best Supporting Actor right now. The sad thing is, that he may win it just because he is dead. Not saying he wouldn't get it if he were alive. It's just that there is no way his death is not going to be a factor in him getting it, assuming he does. It's a shame because the real Best Supporting Actor, Oswaldo Castillo, is not going to win what is rightfully his award.

A CD Marty Won't Be Buying

2008-06-25T12:26:00.000-07:00

I wrote the title before I went and did any research. Turns out I'm tempted to buy the CD. To be more correct, CDs. I just can't bring myself to do it. Which is saying a lot. When I can't be talked into buying a CD, that means it really, really sucks. I buy a lot of crap.

I was watching TV yesterday. RJ was watching Josh and Drake on Nick. He left about 5 minutes into it, but I couldn't change the channel. I had to see what happened. It was actually a fairly good episode. Drake accidentally got punched by this nerd and given a black eye. Rumors started that Drake was talking trash on the nerd's sister, so the nerd punched him. The nerd went with the rumors, as they were now making him the cool kid. Drake was looked at as a loser now. I'm not going to ruin the ending for you. You'll have to watch.

I will tell you what happened to Josh though. The girl who Josh just broke up with was always hanging out with this other guy. Josh assumed this guy was her new boyfriend and that she was bringing him around Josh to make him jealous. This new guy was awesome. He wrote a book in 7th grade, was on Oprah and the President called him once. Josh got mad and confronted his ex. Turns out the dude is just her cousin. Josh then realized his faux pax. The episode ends with them making out.

I'm not here to talk about Josh and Drake though. What I'm here to talk about is one of the commercials I saw. I really need to start watching commercials more. I get a lot of good material from commercials. Like the time I saw themale guard. TiVo has stifled my writing career.

One of the commercials I saw got me excited. Family Matters is coming back to TV. So now Jill can rectify her childhood by watching it. I also did some research and it turns out the movie with Tom Hanks and Reginald VelJohnson, better known as Carl Winslow, the dad from Family Matters, is Turner and Hooch. It is a Tom Hanks movie, not whoever Mary thought it was. (Jill, I can't tag Mary in this note as we are not friends. Please tell her I mentioned her.) Hanks and VelJohnson are police partners in the movie. A dog also plays a pivotal role in the movie. As an added bonus, Craig T. Nelson plays the police chief.

I'm not here to talk about that commercial though. I'm here to talk about Kidz Bop 14. I'll just give you a brief overview in case you don't know what it is. If you want more info, ask Justin. He seems to have a lot of info on Kidz Bop for some reason.

All Kidz Bop is, is kids singing hit songs. Not the bands that originally sang the song, kids. I don't get it.

I went and checked out kidzbop.com, so I would know that I was talking about. I kind of felt like Chris Hansen would be walking into the room any minute and asking me what I was doing as I browsed around the site.

After browsing the site, i checked itunes to see if I could listen to some sound clips. I had heard some of the songs on the commercial, but the stupid guy was talking over them, so it wasn't the same. To my delight you can find Kidz Bop music on itunes. I listened to a few songs. I was pleasantly surprised. They were actually kind of good. In a weird way. I couldn't get over the pedophiliac nature of the songs though. And the fact that they have an ensemble of kids on all the choruses.

I don't know who buys this crap. Apparently someone is though. The commercial I saw was for Kidz Bop 14. That means there was 13 that preceded it. It gets worse. There is more than 13. There was: Kidz Bop 80s Gold, Kidz Bop Country, Kidz Bop Gold, More Kids Bop Gold, Kidz Bop Christmas, The Coolest Kidz Bop Christmas Ever, A Very Merry Christmas Kidz Bop, Kidz Bop Halloween, Kidz Bop Hanukkah, A Kidz Bop Valentine and Kidz Bop Sports Jamz.

I'm not counting those, because I'm not lame, but that is a lot of Kidz Bop crap. Stop buying this crap or this is never going to end.

The worst part of Kidz Bop 14 is the guest "artist". He isn't an artist. He's a loser. I know he's a loser because he was homeless and living on the street a few years ago. "But Marty, he believed in his music dream so much that he was willing to live on the street until he made it." Shut up, you're an idiot. He didn't believe in his dream. He quit on his dream so he could get off he street. He took advantage of a crappy music system that allows you to just steal a song and turn it into a hit. He knew he wasn't going to make it with his music, so he quit his dream and stole a song.

He stole one of the greatest songs of all-time, the only song to be in the top 10 in two different decades. All he did is say "beautiful girl" and "suicidal" a few times and somehow this made it to the number one song. Are you retards? That songs sucks ass. Sean Kingston knows it sucks. Why don't you? You must be the idiots out there buying Kidz Bop.

At least Sean knows he is a no talent. He's trying to cash in while he can. If he had real talent he would not be appearing on a CD that has little kids singing hit songs by real artists.

The only redeeming quality of that suck ass song is that now I can say that "Stand by Me" is the only song to chart in the top ten in three different decades. But If I do that I also have to admit that pile of ass exists.

What's next Sean? "Under the Boardwalk" and "My Girl" have some catchy bass lines. Throw in some "pretty girl"s and "depression"s and you have yourself a hit.

Really people? Number one. That songs sucks ass. You people sicken me.

Lost Kids

2008-06-20T12:23:00.000-07:00

For the first time ever I have nothing to say. I thought about finding 'S' on Craigslist, but I'm too lazy to look it up right now.

Lost children, some lady just came into the Card Office here, she lost her son. A 13 year old autistic boy. I'm sure they will find the kid, he's probably just wandering around in the building here somewhere. She is currently talking to campus police, so maybe I can keep you informed as I write this. Right now they got pretty much the whole building looking for the kid.

From the sounds of the lady, she just wasn't paying attention to the kid. She said he was upset and that he was lagging behind her and her other son. She lost sight of him and now she can't find him.

Losing your kids seems to be all the rage these day. Just the other day a Guatemalan lady abandoned her 2 year old son in a Wal*Mart. She took him to Wal*Mart and made sure he wasn't with her when she left. Apparently she was unable to take care of the kid, so she assumed Wal*Mart could do it. She was responsible about the whole thing though. She gave her kid a backpack with water and snacks in it. You know, because 2 year olds are smart like that.

We now have an alert for missing kids, the Amber Alert. Two problems with the alert. I know that the alert is named after a girl named Amber that went missing once. It's also a color though. The terror threat level uses colors. Every time I hear about an Amber Alert I get freaked out. I think the terrorists are attacking. Then I realize it's just some missing kid. Then I start looking for little kids. Which is really no different from any other time. At least call it the Sarah Alert, so people don't get it confused with terrorism.

The other problem is that Amber is a girls name. I hear that an Amber Alert is on and I start looking for a little girl. It could be a boy though. They need an Amber Alert and an Alex Alert. This needs to happen, for the children.

All this talk about missing children, reminds me of the time I went missing. I think I was 4 or 5. I don't remember much at all. Most of what I do remember, is from what other people have told me.

Fortunately for me, I got lost at the happiest place on earth. Of course I'm talking about Disneyland. I was also with my older brother who was like 10 or something.

It was the beginning of the day and everyone was going on Splash Mountain. My brother and I were sissies at the time so we didn't go. Somehow we got lost while waiting for everyone to get off of the ride.

We spent the whole day at Disneyland by ourselves. I lived every kids dream. I don't actually know, but I assume we went on rides and stuff.

The only part that I actually remember is me and my brother walking around in the parking lot as the sun set looking for the car. Everyone was there waiting. You'd of thought the whole thing was planned. No one was even worried.

I probably have some deep emotional baggage from that event. I just haven't realized it yet.

Marty's Stumble Down Memory Lane

2008-06-12T12:21:00.000-07:00

I was doing my daily listening to the Adam Carolla show yesterday. He was doing something he doesn't normally do. One of his old high school buddies has been in the studio filming something for the last week. Adam doesn't know exactly what he's filming, he just said yes, he could film.

They call the guy the Weeze. Anyways, they've had him on a couple times in the last week just talking about random stuff. Yesterday they talked about their past together. A little trip down memory lane.

For some reason as they were talking about their past adventures, I was reminded of something. I remembered this stupid online journal/diary thing I wrote in a couple of times in my senior year of high school. That may not seem like a long time for some of you, but I'm old. That was 5 years ago.

Somehow I was able to find the site they were on. I only wrote 15 of them, but they were a good 15. Most of them were just about what I did throughout the week. I did some pretty cool stuff back then. It was nice to relive all of it.

My favorite part of all them was the fact that I used first and last names for everyone. I guess when I wrote them I assumed I would read them one day and maybe not remember who I was talking about. I was right, I would have. Having the last names was awesome. I remembered everyone.

It is now my goal to start writing in there again. If only so I can read them again later on down the road. I've forgotten so much, but just reading those few posts brought so much back. Even stuff I didn't write about. It seems weird to do, but I'm going to keep writing out full names.

Like I said, mostly the posts/entries were just me saying what I did. There were some of my feelings in there also. And apparently I used to try and write poetry. Nearly every post has a crappy poem I tried to write. I forgot that I ever tried to write poetry. I'm going to start again.

But the best part of what I wrote, besides the first and last name thing, is when I listed the girls that I currently liked. I used to like a lot of weird people. My favorite was the girl you would think I was in love with by the way I wrote about her.

I was obsessed with this girl. The problem is that she had a boyfriend. That didn't stop us from making out once. Which looking back, probably didn't help the fact that I apparently couldn't get over here. There were about 4 straight entries where I just gushed about her in part of the entries.

Then came one post that caught me completely by surprise. I couldn't keep myself from laughing as I read it. Not just a chuckle. I had tears coming from my eyes I was laughing so hard.

The post started out with me saying how much I hated this girl that I had previously professed my love for. I wrote that I couldn't stand being within 5 feet of her.

The reason for this, because she stunk one day. Maybe she just stunk a little, but I wrote about her stink like it was the worst thing ever. Looking back now, I may have just made the stink up. I remember hearing from someone once that she stunk. Maybe I just chose to believe this so I could get over her.

Either way it worked. I had gotten over her because I had convinced myself that this girl smelled like poo.

Or so I thought I had gotten over her. Three entries later I was professing my lover for her once again.

That story alone is why I'm going to start writing in there again. I had completely forgotten about that whole thing. I'd forgotten that I even liked that girl, let alone that I was in love with her.

There were other great stories in there, but I don't want to mention those right now.

Well, I'm going to go write in my online diary. Gay, I know, but in 10 years, I'm going to have something really cool to read.

Honor My Death, That's All I ask

2008-05-08T12:20:00.000-07:00

Before any of you start freaking out, I am not killing myself. As far as a I know, no one is trying to kill me either. I'm just saying that when I die, I want my death honored.

I repeat, I'm not killing myself, yet. But trust me, when/if I do, you will all be at least the fourth or fifth ones to know about it.

I almost died yesterday. I was walking down the stairs at my place when it happened. I always knew that house would be the death of me. I always thought it would be the shower that killed me though. I even wrote about it a while back. It's here if you want to read it. Just read the first two paragraphs for the death by shower part.

But as I was saying, I was going down the stairs and I slipped. My life suddenly flashed before my eyes.

I saw myself sitting on the couch watching TV. I saw myself standing in my front yard, staring across the valley at letters lit up on the hill above my high school, thinking about my friends at the homecoming dance, wishing I was there. I saw myself in my car driving to some chicks house late at night, no one in the passenger seat, my friend and some chick making out in the back seat. I saw myself in a class room, sitting in a desk, students zoomed past me, the hands on the clock moved quickly, that faces of the students changed, I sat in the same classroom, same desk, 6 years went by.

Suddenly my life stopped flashing before my eyes. My left hand was pressed against the wall, my right was clutching the banister, my body was leaning forward. I don't know how it happened, but somehow I caught myself. I just stared down the stairs at the spot I would have been had I not caught myself.

Then it hit me. I sat down. I realized I've done nothing in my life. Nothing. Especially nothing worthy of being honored for. I've always just kind of been there. If I had of fallen down the stairs and died I probably would have sat there for at least four days before anyone noticed I was gone.

I'm a waste. I've done nothing. I need to get out and start doing something.

A couple hours after almost dying, I was sitting on the couch watching TV. Deadliest Catch was on the Discovery channel. For those that don't know, Deadliest Catch follows around people that do the most dangerous job in the world, deep sea fishing. They were catching crab. It's awesome, these guys go out for like a week or so and they make like $30,000.

"We should do that," Justin says.

What an idiot I thought. We'd just die.

At the end of the show, all the men are back from their ships and celebrating in a bar. All of a sudden a few guys just start throwing money into a pile on the table.

All the money in the pile is going to go to honor the memories of the men who died and men who had died while out on the ocean.

That's it I thought. All I need when I die is to honored. As long as I know my memory will be honored when I die, I can die in peace.

So please, honor me when I die. As for now, I'm going out to sea.

Bruce Morris, Most Awkward Situation Ever and Myspace.

2008-04-04T12:18:00.000-07:00

Remember when I deleted my Myspace? Of course you do. I told you all about it. If you remember right, I hesitated to delete because all of the web logs I had written on there. I always intended to save them. Maybe post them somewhere else, but at least have them saved on my computer. What happened?

I got bored at work one day and deleted it. Everything. I saved nothing. I didn't even think about saving stuff when I deleted. When I realized later what I had done I tried to brush it off by saying I can write more stuff. I have written new stuff, but nothing of the quality or caliber of the things I had on Myspace. Everything I ever did on Myspace was great. Now the only thing I have that comes close to my Myspace glory days is the time I turned gay just so I wouldn't have to watch Hairspray. (If that doesn't make sense to you, go back and read it.)

It's now been a while since I deleted my Myspace. I only remember two things that we're on there. I'll give you a brief description of those so you can get an idea of the quality of the things I used to write.

Most Awkward Situation Ever:

This was just a strange buy true story. It started on a weekend. I met these two girls. Mindy and I forget who the other one was. I don't think I every actually knew her name.

The next week was the Fourth of July. Brigham City always has fireworks on or around the fourth. I was going to go and watch the fireworks the two aforementioned girls.

This is where my memory gets hazy. All I remember is that I was supposed to bring a friend. I went to get that friend. Three other dudes got in the car with him. We were five dudes in a car going to meet two girls.

When we got to Brigham, I somehow was able to find the girls. It was more luck than anything. The directions as to their whereabouts were terrible. They didn't even know which way was north. There was some other dude with them when I found them. I don't know what happened to my four friends. I think they got sick of looking for two idiots and just sat down somewhere.

The fireworks suck. The best part was when some little kid spit on me.

I don't know why, but for some reason we went over to Mindy's house after. I think it was because she had ketchup at her house.

So we get to this girls house, five dudes, two girls and one random dude that no one knew. We were there for about 30 seconds when one of the girls said she had to go home. That made it five dudes, 1 girl and one random dude no one knew.

The night ended with two of my friends sitting at the kitchen counter eating their Wendy's. The rest were playing Uno in the living room. Three dudes, one girl and one random dude playing Uno. Not just any Uno thought, Uno Attack!.

The random dude kept saying the same thing over and over because one of my friends had said it earlier and it was kind of funny.

I wish I had the real story of that. I've forgotten so much. That was a fun time. Even though it was 2 or 3 years ago, I still haver her number for some reason. I'm going to call her.

Bruce Morris:

This turned into a little four or five part miniseries. It started out by me just mentioning some cool things that happened on the day I was born. Turns out not much happened that day.

The coolest thing I could find was '"The Shot Herd 'Round the World".

It was a shot that Bruce Morris made on February 7, 1985 while playing for Marshall University. The shot was like 89 feet 6 inches or something like that. A pair of footprints now adorn the court from the spot the shot was taken. I remember the footprints because I made a joke about how Marshall players shoot from those footprints everyday in practice. Only they shoot at the other basket, turning the shot into an impressive four foot shot. It was much funnier when I told it before.

I thought that was that. One of my readers must have looked into the shot. They found discrepancies in both the date and length of the shot.

This is when I started researching the shot. To this day, I've never done more research on anything than Bruce Morris' shot "herd" round the world.

Turns out there were discrepancies on both the date and length of shot. I was able to find three different dates and three different lengths. The dates were the 6th, 7th and 8th of February. The lengths ranged everywhere from 86 feet to 92 feet.

In the end I was able to confirm that the shot indeed did happen of February 7, 1985 from a distance of 89 feet 6 inches (or something like that.) My birthday thing was saved.

I wish I still had that stuff.

What Is This 'S'?

2008-04-03T12:17:00.000-07:00

People keep trying to sell their 'S'. I'm here to tell you what that 'S' is.

I wish people would stop trying to trade stuff. You aren't ten anymore. These aren't baseball cards. Just take your motorcycle to the bike shop and put your stereo system up for sale, not trade.

Trampoline up for trade. My biggest problem with this isn't the fact that they are trying to trade a trampoline for kids clothes. Although that is stupid. My problem is that they listed this item under about 7 categories. They say they don't know which category it would fall under. Really, you don't know what category to put a trampoline in?

Who would want this? Oh yeah. The same guy with a primer colored Civic with $3,000 rims.

Awesome. Just awesome.

Here is your business idea Justin. I don't know exactly what it is. The description says:

WITH A SMALL INVESTMENT YOUCAN MAKE A
LOT OF MONEY BY BECOMING THE EXCLUSIVE
DISTROBUTER OF THIS GREAT UNIQUE PRODUCT
ALL OVER USA

It doesn't actually say what it is, but from the picture, it looks like paper towels. Apparently those are great and unique these days.

No one wants these. You couldn't pay me $5 to wear these headphones. Who is going to buy three of these anyways?

For all of you that thought war was the answer. You are getting one of these in your front lawn.

What kind of people have 200-300 boxes just laying around that they are willing to give away for free?

Sweet! I can finally get one of these for my tank. For free too. This is the best day ever. Now if I just knew what a plecostomus was.

I want to meet this guy. I want to find out what makes him not just a bachelor, but a dedicated bachelor.

This would be cool to have. Can't they just call it what it is though? It's a fridge. Anyone who buys it is probably going to put more than just beverages in it.

You didn't know that you didn't have room for this when you bought it. Just tell the real reason you are selling it. You've had for 2 years and you've only used it twice.

I assume this is the same "elyptical" They said pictures would be coming soon and here is a picture. Maybe they don't have room. It appears to be right next to the kitchen table.

Police challenge coins. I don't know what these are, but I kind of wish I had some.

Ring one. Ring two. We have a problem people. I could have put up many more wedding rings that are for sale. I also approve about one card a week to put on the bulletin board in the TSC that is trying to sell a wedding ring. Either people are selling their wedding rings, which is their prerogative. Or guys keep asking girls to marry them when the girl doesn't want too. I'm going with the later. Knock it off guys.

I've been doing some looking into diamonds recently. The chick on Adam Carolla's show was talking about how she refused to get a mined diamond on her wedding ring. She would only get a man-made one. I decided to see what the difference was.

Turns out their is almost no difference. Except the man-made diamonds don't have the little imperfections in them that you find in mined diamonds. Mined diamonds are a little harder, but the man-made ones are pretty freaking hard. Mined diamonds are a 10 on the hardness scale. Man-made are only a 9.1. The only real major difference between the two is that mined diamonds cost thousands of dollars per carat. Man-made diamonds are only a couple of hundred dollars per carat. Then there is also the slave labor you are supporting when you buy a mined diamond. Then the thousands of people that die mining diamonds. No one has died making a man-made diamond.

Diamonds AREN'T rare people. One company just controls the market and they can do whatever they want to the price. Experts can't tell the difference between mined diamonds and man-made diamonds unless they have fancy sophisticated equipment. Stop buying mined diamonds.

So the next time you think of asking a girl to marry you, buy a man-made diamond. With the money you save you can buy an engagement hot tub or something. Then if she says no at least you'll have a hot tub.

Sorry for the tangent. Back to the 'S'.

For the guy that bought that gold bike. Now you can pimp out your golf cart.

Is this guy writing a book? Or does he just have a strange fetish for hearing weird stories?

Lazy person number 1 and lazy person number 2. There people are stupid. I found both of these items for sale or free. Just look first before you say you want something.

Tear stains? On puppies? This is a problem?

This guy really like appliances. He doesn't care what they are, just that it is an appliance. If it's an appliance, he wants it.

That's all the 'S' I have for now.

As long as people keep selling their 'S', I'll be here to let you know what it is.

Marty's Recent Observatiions

2008-03-26T12:16:00.000-07:00

As a lot of you are already well aware, I do stuff. If you aren't already aware, let me be the first to tell you. I do stuff. But it's not the doing stuff that is important. (At least not for purposes of this. Actually for whatever purposes the stuff probably is irrelevant and not important.) It's the things that I observe while doing this stuff that matters. Whether it be dull and mundane or hilarious, I observe a lot of things throughout my day. We all do. I just happen to be better at it than you. So that's why I'm here, to tell you about my recent observations. Most of which are boring and mundane.

Observation 1:

Truck drivers are nice. I was traveling out to Mendon the other day. I saw the niceness of truck drivers first hand. It was in a rural area, so I was the only other car around, except for two trucks. Here is the 411.

There is this intersection. The east to west traffic, no stop sign. The north to south traffic has a stop sign. There was this semi with two trailers sitting at the stop sign. He was traveling north and waiting to go straight through the stop sign. What he was waiting for was another semi with two trailers. He was traveling east. Here is where the problem comes in. The semi traveling east wanted to turn right at the intersection. He'd have to made a wide right turn. The sign on the back of his trailer reading "Wide Right Turns" was forcing him to. He doesn't want to get busted for false advertisement. The semi going straight was in his way though. So what happened? I'll tell you next week.

Actually I'll just tell you now. If I make you wait you'll just go to the Marty's Weblog Spoiler site and read about what happened before I get to tell you.

That semi going straight backed up about 200 feet and let the the other semi turn. Then I got to thinking. Why didn't the semi going straight just go across the intersection instead of backing up? There were no cars in the way. Now I don't know whether truck drives are nice or jerks. On on hand, maybe the driver going straight said, 'here buddy, let me back up and get out of your way'. On the other hand, maybe the driver turning right said, 'yeah, you are going to need to back up and get the hell out of my way so I can turn'. I just don't know. This is one of those in-answerable questions where it doesn't really matter what the answer is. Yet the answer couldn't matter more.

Observation 2:

Have any of you noticed the change in uniforms at Wal*Mart? The change actually occurred quite awhile ago. I remember when it did. I knew someone that worked their during the change and they were ecstatic when the change took place. Really, that's the kind of crap you get excited about? That's how I remember the Wal*Mart uniform change. A time that I remembered that I know a lot of idiots.

I never really noticed the change until yesterday. Now I have a problem with the change. If you didn't know, everyone now wears these dark navy blue polo shirts. There isn't even a big logo or anything to distinguish them. It's just a small embroidered Wal*Mart emblem over the breast. They blend in with everyone. It's confusing.

People now think that everyone wearing a polo shirt works there. I know because I saw it first hand a while ago. I watch as some lady asked two people within in 15 seconds if they knew where something was. Both replied that they didn't work here. That lady seemed surprised and puzzled both times. What were these two wearing? Polo shirts. One was dark red and the other was a pale yellow. Not even close to Wal*Mart colors, but how was this lady supposed to know they didn't work there? You can't tell anymore.

The greatest part is when this other lady came over and told her that she thinks that guy down there works here. She went and asked him if he knew where her item was. She got the same answer that she got from the other two men. At least she got the color right this time. Or she would have had they not changed the uniform color. This guy was wearing a light blue polo. The color of the old Wal*Mart uniforms. Of course they are dark navy blue now.

I can't get used to the color change. Yesterday I saw some guy organizing toothpaste on the shelve. It was the weirdest thing I ever saw. Turns out the toothpaste organizer worked there.

Observation 3:

Opening the doors for girls, an act that should be encouraged. It can go too far though. I witnessed door opening gone too far the other day while at Jamba Juice.

This kid was walking in. There was a girl behind him. He opened the door, only he didn't walk in. He stepped out of the way and held the door open as the girl behind him walked in. What is that? This guy is an idiot.

Actually that didn't happen. No it did happen, but it should have happened. What should have happened is that I shouldn't... Nevermind, just act like this paragraph and the one before it don't exist.

Opening car doors for girls, I'm a fan of it. I don't do it, but I'm a fan. I'm such a big fan of it I'll clap occasionally when I see. I saw something at Jamba Juice the other day that didn't make me want to clap. In fact I wanted to boo and tell this guy he sucked. I could have punched him in the face and not thought twice about it. He deserved it, he's an idiot.

Let me just say this to all the fellas out there. If she is driving, do not under any circumstances, ever open her door. In fact, don't even walk on the drivers side of the car just to stay safe.

Sadly I was never able to give this kid that advice. He instead made himself look like a complete idiot. First he stood behind the girl as she unlocked the driver's door. Then she had to step to the side as he opened the door. She got in and then he had to walk around to the passenger side

It was the most pathetic thing I've ever seen. The most pathetic part is that this kid is going to keep doing it. So please, if you see this kid, shoot him. In fact shoot any guy you see opening the driver's door for a lady. Actually not just a lady, shoot him no matter who he is opening the door for.* You don't have to kill him, just injure him. If you want you can just shoot them with a tranquilizer dart.

And for all the ladies out there. If you are driving and some guy opens your door. Just drive away while he is walking to the passenger side. It's for the best. He wasn't worth it anyway.

*Disclaimer: There is one, and only one, instance where it is all right for a guy to open the driver's door for someone. That is if the person is sloppy drunk and has trouble getting into the car by themselves. In fact, you should probably go help them get the drunk person in the car.

There you have it. All my observations of the last month.

My Pants Depression

2008-03-24T12:14:00.000-07:00

Great. I see Awkland is throwing another party. Talk about Suck Fest '08. Do they not remember how bad Suck Fest '07 was? Talk about losers.

Pants. We've all worn them at one time or another. Some of us wear better pants than others. I'm talking to you Chet, you're pants are just terrible. But sometimes pants do more than just cover your legs. They cover your life in a shroud. It's like that black smoke from Lost, except without the cool noise.

That's what my life was like as far back as October. It was one great depression. I couldn't figure it out. Nothing had changed. Why was I now suffering this great depression? Then about a month ago I heard a bird singing when I woke up, I didn't know it at the time, but that bird was the answer to all my questions.

I have this tradition. I just started it this year. The first time I hear a bird singing in the morning, it's my sign to break out the shorts for the year. Exactly one week after I hear the bird, the shorts come out. That's my tradition. I broke that tradition this year, so I guess technically that's not a tradition as I have yet to do it even once.

I couldn't wait the one week as tradition dictates. Two days after hearing that bird sing, the shorts came out of the closet. (They aren't gay or anything, they just literally came out of the closet.)

My whole changed that day. It was the old me again. I felt alive, free and happy. People could stand my company, a step up from the usual detestation feeling people get when I'm around.

It was the shorts, it had to be. Nothing else was different. In a way, shorts saved my life. It was only a matter of time until those pants enveloped every fiber of my being and slowly began to suffocate me. My pants were out to kill me.

I know it's still kind of cold outside. People look at me funny as I walk around campus. I assume it's because I'm wearing shorts, but that probably isn't it. Stop looking at me though. Look at my shorts. They saved my life. They should be give a medal of some sort. People should be congratulating them. So go ahead, feel free to shake my shorts hand when you see me. They deserve it.

As for me, semi-enjoy my company while you can, because in 6 or 7 more months the detestable me comes back. Hopefully the birds come early next year. Before the pants kill me

2008-03-19T11:52:00.000-07:00

I missed a lot of crap, so I had to go back and find it.

Got 120 grand just laying around? Like little kids? This is for you. Aren't they scared that some rich pedophile may come along and buy this place? That would just be a concern of mine.

I hesitated to show this. I seriously thought about buying it and I didn't want to attract any other buyers. Then I thought about it. I don't believe that this thing has never been used. If it's never been used why is the price marked down $2,000? You say the person it was purchased for died 2 days after it was delivered. Couldn't you just send it back and tell them the person died, we don't need it anymore? I think they'd take it back. I believe that this thing was used. I believe that whoever this thing was purchased for died sitting in this thing. Why else would you knock the price down $2,000?

I see you bought a hole punch, gold pen and had some extra guitar picks lying around. This is a joke right?

Rest assured that if I had one of these, I certainly would be playing it and not lending it out to some little kid to put his dirty little hands on.

You can just buy one of these?

Exersaucer? How is the kid getting exercise while using this?

Very good shape and only used for one season? This translates into, my kid sucked at soccer. My favorite part is how she acts like taking a picture would be a nuisance. But she guesses she could get around to it if you wanted one. Just from this one comment alone, I can safely say this lady is 220 plus and her kid is overweight as well.

Nothing wrong with this. Except the fact that you can't put it anywhere because it would scare the crap out of whoever looked at it. Plus it's just ugly.

Let your kid live in style with the Eddie Bauer baby collection. Piece one.(comes with seat cushion) and here is piece number two.

What the hell is a Doula? If you have to explain what exactly it is that you are selling, you shouldn't be selling it. Couldn't you just read a book and get the same thing out it that this lady would tell you? It sounds like all this lady did was read a book.

Would anyone really pay $600 for this? I could buy an HDTiVo for $600. If I had the choice between an HDTiVo and this piece of junk, I'm going with the TiVo every time.

Now this is more like it. Only $500 for this piece of junk. I'll pay that, screw the TiVo.

Someone's grandma died.

I thought this guy was an idiot. Apparently there is some truth behind the fact that using the DVD player shortens the life span of your XBox. Who knew?

As opposed to those fake push mowers.

Wouldn't going from a four person table to a six be an upgrade? You are trying to screw someone over with this trade. Why don't you just sell the table and buy a new one?

Does your child love imaginary play? I guess this lady's kids were idiots and didn't like imaginary play, so they never used this.

Uphill bike not included.

No one just gives away a hot tub. You will always be able to get at least $50 for a hot tub. There has to something wrong with this. Maybe that old person died in this instead of on the Jazzy.

This guy needs a chain saw. Nothing wrong with that. He also has a really nice laundry detergent. That's cool. I don't see how the two are connected, but that's cool. The weird thing is that he seems to have a three year supply of this detergent just sitting around.

I love that someone bought this. Then they kept it in the box thinking that it would skyrocket in value. Well congratulations, you netted yourself $20 for your 20 year investment. (I'm assuming this thing couldn't have been more than $5.) Couldn't you have made more by putting $20 in the bank? You probably should have just put it in the bank since no one is going to buy this. This is what we call a bad investment.

He's trying to raise money so he can put an add in the paper that says "I'm a huge nerd." Over 200? That's a worse investment that they guy with the Sid doll.

I wouldn't really call that a minor problem. My time is worth money. The time it would take me to go push the button again is worth around $800. I'll just go buy a new washer.

What Is This 'S'? / More youtube stuff

2008-03-04T10:39:00.000-08:00

People are still trying to sell their 'S' and I'm still here to let know what that 'S' is.

Do you need to have your next family event video taped, but you only know how to build bathrooms? This used to be America's number one problem, ahead of bears even. Not any more. This Guy is here to solve, what used to be, one of America's biggest problems.

This poster doesn't get how making money works.

Apparently there is a lot of plus size girls graduating this year. This is the second one in two weeks. Or this is the same one. Either way, someone help a girl out.

I don't get this. How do people get themselves in a financial situation where selling there car for $375 is a necessity? I'm sure the car is worth more than that. No hurry on buying the car though. As long as you buy it before November 21st at 5 pm, you'll get $25 off the listed price. What a deal. What's happening on November 21st anyways? Is that when your bookie is coming?

Forget the TV I want that little dog to the right of it.

What. The. Hell. Are these? You gotta be freaking kidding me. There are more of them.

This guy doesn't understand how the weather works. The weather is starting to warm up. No one wants your salt. But don't worry dude, it's going to get cold again in 8 months, you can use it then. Do you really need the $8 that bad? And is Pax ice/snow melt really that hard to come by? Really, you heard that?

If you are going to sell something clean it off. Don't just tell us how easily it can be cleaned. Clean the thing, especially if it's so easy. You gotta hurry and buy this thing too. According to the post he's taking it off the market today. Really, you're going to just take it down and not sell if no one buys today? What are you going to do with it then?

You'd think it would take a little more to get into bee keeping than this.

What happens for someone to all of a sudden need two hospital beds? But hey, congratulations on getting one.

I love it. Harley in central Logan, you're an idiot. You're selling your Xbox 360 so you can get some other things for your truck and family. You're an idiot. What other things are you going to get for your truck and family for $200? Why didn't you just not buy the Xbox in the first place and not lose the couple hundred dollars? Then you could have got your truck and family some nice things.

___________youtube_________

This is why you don't mess with the garbage man. There is some explicit language, but you can turn the speakers all the way down and it's still just as funny.

This is why you don't dress up as pink panther and go prancing around. Turn the speakers back up so you can hear him sing the pink panther theme. And so you can hear him inform you that he isn't all right.

This guy can't pull off the easiest prank in the world. If you are going to test your prank, clean up the mess before you go walking around. There is some explicit, but warranted language (just look at his mouth) towards the end, but you'll need the volume up at the beginning so you can hear him talk about the prank. You can turn it down once he falls, but then you can't hear him whimper.

Stop trying to scare people.

I have a hard time admitting it, but I know this kid. That's my older brother underneath the blanket. His friend and my friends brother is the one violating the sneetch. Apparently he thought it was a good idea to do it again.

There is a lot of videos like this by Improv Everywhere. This one is one of my favorites, but if you have the time I suggest looking at the others. The Abercrombie & Fitch one is pretty good.

Congratulations kid! You will never even touch a girl. But hey, at least you can stack a mean cup.

Everyone should do this to at least one of their buddies once in their lives.

An homage to the greatest joke of all time.

Loosening The Belt That Binds

2008-03-03T10:09:00.000-08:00

Sarah had torn her closet apart. Most of her clothes were now on her bed or on the floor. Except for the shoes on the floor, the closet looked bare. Only three items remained on their hangers. One of them was what she had been searching for. It was a sweater, a navy blue sweater. She put it on. It was big on her. The only thing that distinguished it from any other sweater was the Silver Bay Logging emblem stitched over her heart. Other than that it was a plain sweater.

It was her dad’s old sweater. Jerry used to wear the sweater all the time. When Sarah pictured her dad, she always saw him wearing the sweater she now had on. It was the last thing she had of the dad she knew, the dad she wanted to remember, not the man he had become.

The last time Sarah saw her father he gave her the sweater. It had been a year since that day. Jerry wanted it that way. He’d said so while standing on Sarah’s porch, holding the navy blue sweater. “Merry Christmas darling,” Jerry said. “I know you don’t like seeing me like this. And I don’t like you seeing me like this. Please. Just let me be. I can’t stay with you any longer. I need to go. Remember me how I was, not this.” He handed her the navy blue sweater. He didn’t leave time for Sarah to reply. He turned and walked away. Sarah wanted to call out to him as he walked. She couldn’t. She just watched him walk away. Jerry pulled a fresh bottle of vodka from his jacket, sipping it as he walked the two blocks to the bus stop. Sarah watched from her porch as he boarded the bus. Tears made black from mascara, ran down her face as she watched the bus pull off.

Officer Mullin’s alarm went of at 7 Christmas morning. He reached over to turn it off. He didn’t want to wake his pregnant wife. He crept out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom to get ready for the long day ahead.

Mullin hated being the rookie. He had joined the Seattle police department eight months ago. He was always taking crap from the veteran officers, so he wasn’t surprised to learn that he’d been given the Christmas day shift.

Having to work Christmas made him question why he left his job at the electronic store. It was his father in-law’s store. Mullin was poised to take over the store when he left. He’d always wanted to be a cop, so he left the store to become one. It didn’t take long for Mullin to figure out he wasn’t cut out to be a cop. He’d always regretted his decision.

Mullin stopped at the front door his apartment before leaving. A small plastic tree sat on the coffee table. Two presents lied underneath the tree, one for him and one for his wife. This was supposed to be their first Christmas together. Work had taken that from them. He was glad they didn’t have kids, not yet at least. He wanted to go back to the bedroom, wake his wife, kiss her and tell her he loved he. He didn’t. He didn’t want to wake her. She needed her rest. Tears formed in his eyes as he looked at the tree. He opened the front door. Being careful not to make a sound as he closed it behind him.

The sun began to rise as Mullin pulled out of his driveway and headed for the police station.

Sarah walked out the bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen. Brad was already in the kitchen, placing a turkey in the oven. Sarah stood and watched him before she spoke.

“Morning honey,” Sarah said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Hey babe.” Brad looked up, noticing the sweater. It wasn’t the usual form-fitting tops Brad had grown accustomed to her wearing. “Silver Bay Logging. Isn’t that the company your dad worked for?”

“Yeah, it is. It’s the last thing he gave me before he left. Which reminds me, my dad called. He’s coming over.”

Brad set two plates on the table. He put his hands on the edge of the table and hunched over, hung his head and let out a sigh. “Your dad? He’s coming over? I thought he didn’t want to see you anymore.”

“He sounded sober on the phone, he said he’s trying to change. He’s coming back, my dad, the dad I knew. He’s coming back. I knew he’d come back.”

“Don’t get too excited. You know your dad.”

Sarah did know her dad. She remembered the kind caring man, the man who loved his daughter Sarah more than anything. They were all each other had. Jerry was an only child, so was Sarah. Jerry’s parents were deceased, so was Sarah’s mom.

Sarah was only five, but she sill remembered the day her mom died. It was Jerry’s 30^th birthday. A surprise party had been planned. Maria, Sarah’s mom, had driven to Spokane to pick up Jerry’s parents. On their way back one of their front tires blew. The car flipped three times before coming to rest. They never picked Sarah up after school. Jerry had to pick her up and tell her the news.

Since then it had been Jerry and Sarah. Jerry was able to give Sarah a good life. His job paid well. Money was never a problem for the father and daughter. He worked at a logging company, Silver Bay Logging. It wasn’t the safest job. He saw countless men injured on the job, some killed. Still, the thought of quitting never crossed his mind. The job allowed him to provide his daughter with the life he thought she deserved. He stayed for Sarah. Everything Jerry did was for Sarah.

Mullin sat outside the police station inside the squad car. He couldn’t go anywhere. Not until his partner Felix arrived. Finally, Felix pulled in, thirty minutes late. He joined Mullin in the car.

“Sorry,” Felix said. “It’s Christmas, had to watch the kids open a few presents.”

“How do you do it?” Mullin asked. “Work on Christmas, leave the wife and kids. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Duty, kid. Someone has to do it. I’ve been working Christmas for 11 years now. You can’t look at it as leaving your family. You gotta look at if from the city’s point of view. We don’t work Christmas and the city goes to hell. Block that other stuff out. Now lets get going.”

“I wish I could block it. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this like you are.”

The day Felix had to draw his gun and shoot a man, Mullin knew he wasn’t cut out to be a policeman. Mullin hadn’t pulled the trigger, but standing next to Felix as the man fell to the ground, Mullin felt as if he had shot the gun. The man had pulled a gun on Mullin and his partner. Still, Mullin couldn’t stomach it as he watched the man collapse on the ground.

Mullin couldn’t just leave the force though. He had paid so much for the police academy. His father in-law was unhappy when Mullin left the store. He wanted to go back, but Mullin didn’t know if his father in-law would take him back. He couldn’t bring himself to ask. He felt stuck.

Sarah’s favorite memory of her dad was the time he dressed up as Santa Claus. Jerry waited too long to buy his costume. His beard was brown. That was the only color the costume shop had left. He hadn’t bothered to put padding in his suit. He was the skinniest Santa Sarah had ever seen. He barely resembled Santa at all. Sarah had woken up early Christmas morning, sat by the Christmas tree and waited for her dad to wake. Jerry came in with a Santa costume draped over his body, Santa hat, brown beard, and sack of toys slung over his back.

That’s the way Sarah remembered her dad, the jovial man who loved her more than anything. That Jerry went to work three years ago and never came back.

Silver Bay Logging never told Sarah what happened. They just said Jerry had been involved in an accident. Sarah only knew what the doctors told her. Jerry was lucky to be alive, they said. Jerry had suffered severe brain damage. He lay in a coma for months. When Jerry came out of the coma, he still had to be hospitalized for another two months.

Jerry’s accident had left him and Sarah in financial ruins. Jerry’s hospital bills were outrageous and insurance only went so far. Jerry’s savings were drained, so was Sara’s college fund. Silver Bay Logging sent money, but not nearly enough. They only saw Jerry as another reason to set their ‘number of days without an accident board’ back to zero. The house had to be sold. Jerry had gone from a semi-luxurious life to being homeless. They would have been forced to roam the streets if Brad, who Sarah met while Jerry was in the hospital, hadn’t taken them in.

Things were slow for Mullin and Felix. It was Christmas; things would probably remain slow, Mullin thought. Felix was ready for the lull. He brought some playing cards. He knew where the gas station was that never closed. This obviously wasn’t his first Christmas shift. The two men were playing poker, sipping their coffee and eating their snacks, when a call finally came in.

“We need a unit to mile marker 318 on the I-5 headed south. Man on the freeway, running through traffic. Traffic has come to a stop and he’s vandalizing several cars”

Without a word said Mullin turned the siren on, pulled out of the gas station parking lot and headed to the freeway entrance. It only took them five minutes to arrive at the scene. They were the first patrol car there. Traffic had come to a stand still, both ways. One direction stopped because of the man running in the road, the other direction moving very slowly, trying to get a look.

Mullin wove through traffic until he was 100 feet away from the man. He stopped the car, the lights still flashed. Mullin and Felix exited the car. The man didn’t take notice of their arrival.

Brad set another plate at the table. There were three of them now. He checked the turkey before grabbing some silverware. Not much longer, he thought. He went to the drawer and grabbed the silverware. He wanted so much to believe that Jerry was coming. He knew how much it would mean to Sarah. He couldn’t believe it though. The Jerry he knew wouldn’t come.

Brad never knew Jerry before the accident. The Jerry Brad knew was a statue with glazed eyes. He rarely spoke anymore. He might as well have remained in the coma. Except when he was drunk. When he was drunk he was a completely different person.

The booze would bring Jerry out of his comatose state. When he was drunk he became crazed. He’d run around, curse and throw things. He’d often times leave the house. The police would bring him back a few hours later. Jerry would sober up; apologize for his actions and leave again to find more booze. Jerry left for good one day. He gave Sarah a sweater before he left.

Sarah was able to find out Jerry slept under an over-pass. She’d go occasionally, hoping to see her dad. She never found him. She’d leave money with one of the homeless men who said they knew Jerry. She knew he’d probably never see the money, but she felt better leaving it there.

“Looks like he is hitting the cars with a belt,” Mullin said.

“It’s an old man,” Felix said. “You should be able to handle this one newbie”

Felix stopped, letting Mullin continue towards the man by himself.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to put the belt down,” Mullin yelled. The man paid no attention to Mullin’s warning. He didn’t even glance in Mullin’s direction. Mullin’s words only seemed to incite the man more. He started striking a car repeatedly. Bright blue paint chips flew through the air each time he struck the car with the metal buckle of his belt. He struck the windshield. Glass crackled with each hit. Muffled screams came from the lady inside the car. She moved from the drivers seat to the back, her crying baby now in her arms.

“Sir, put the belt down!” Said Mullin. He began running towards the old man, trying to get the old man’s attention off the car and on him. It worked. The old man turned to face Mullin. Having gotten the man’s attention Mullin stopped. Ten feet separated the two. They both stood there, staring each other down. Mullin took a step towards the man. Mullin heard the whoosh of the old man’s belt as it cut through the air between the two men.

“Pull your gun Mullin!” Said Felix.

“I don’t need my gun, Felix. I got it! All right sir, put the belt down.” The old man didn’t respond. His eyes were glazed over, almost as if he was looking right through Mullin. “Or just stand there and don’t move.”

Mullin began to approach the man, hesitation in each step. The old man didn’t move. With each step Mullin became less and less hesitant. Mullin reached for his cuffs as he continued his way towards the man.

WHOOSH!

“Maybe he isn’t coming,” Brad said. “You know your dad.”

“No,” Sarah said. “He said he’d be here. He meant it. I could tell. My dads coming, he’s coming back. He has to.”

“I believe that he meant it. But you know your dad. He probably got drunk and forgot. Probably passed out somewhere. You need to let go honey. The dad you knew isn’t coming back. His still looks the same, but the dad you knew isn’t coming back. You need to let go of the idea that one day the dad you knew is coming back. You know, sometimes I can’t help but think, you’d be better off if he, if he had died that day.”

Sarah wanted to scream. She wanted to hit Brad. She couldn’t. She was angry. Not at Brad, but at herself. Brad was right. She knew it. She’d always known it. She wouldn’t admit it, but she knew that her life would be better if her dad was dead. The dad she knew was dead, but as long as the man she once knew as dad still walked the earth she couldn’t let go. She wanted to let go, but she couldn’t.

The smell of burnt turkey drifted into the living room. Brad left to go check the oven. Sarah sat in the living room and waited. Waiting for her dad to arrive.

Mullin couldn’t avoid it; the buckle of the old man’s belt struck him in the chest. Mullin staggered away. He doubled up, trying to catch his breath. The blow to his chest made breathing difficult. Mullin glanced back towards the old man. He stood there as if he had done nothing, the same glazed look in his eyes.

“Damn it Mullin, pull your gun!” Said Felix. Mullin turned his head and looked up at Felix, who was running towards him with his gun drawn.

“I got it,” said Mullin. Mullin put his hand up to stop Felix.

Mullin stood back up straight, his breathing still labored from the blow. He placed his hand on his holstered gun. “Put the belt down,” he said. The only movement Mullin saw from the old man was the tears that ran down his cheeks. Mullin pulled his gun out. “Damn it sir. Put the belt down.” Mullin pointed his gun straight at the man’s chest. “You want me to use this?” More tears poured down the old man’s face. Mullin kept his gun locked on the man as he approached him.

WHOOSH!

Mullin was able to jump back this time, narrowly missing another blow from the belt. The belt had missed Mullin. The blood didn’t miss

The blood hit Mullin’s face like warm rain. Blood speckled his face and uniform. Mullin dropped his gun as he watched the old man collapse. Mullin stared at the old man lying on the ground, a bullet wound in his chest.

“Nice work, Mullin,” said Felix. Felix placed his gun back in his holster. He bent down and picked up Mullin’s gun. “Dropped this.”

“How long are you going to sit here and wait honey?” Brad asked. “The turkey burned. I put some pieces of chicken in. They’re almost done, if you want to come have some.” Brad exited the living room, leaving Sarah there by herself.

Sarah got up and looked out the window, thanks dad. She turned and started heading towards the kitchen to join Brad. Just as she left the living room, she heard a car pulling into the driveway. Sarah ran back to the window and looked out. It was a police car.

“Stay in the car Felix,” Mullin said. “I need to do this.” Mullin got out of his car. He didn’t look like a policeman. He still had the shoes, pants, and belt on, but his shirt was plain white. Mullin didn’t have to go to the front door, he was happy he didn’t. A woman came out to meet him.

“Is my dad in there!” Said Sarah.

The policeman stared at Sarah. Sarah recognized the glazed look. The policeman reached into his pocket and pulled out a bus ticket and a Silver Bay Logging ID. He handed them to Sarah.

“He’s not coming,” said the policeman.

Mullin reached his hand up and ran it through his hair. His hand pulled the hair back from his forehead. Two specks of blood were revealed. The woman’s eyes darted to his forehead. He didn’t know what else to say to the woman.

“You don’t need to say it,” said Sarah.

Tears began to form in the policeman’s eyes, Sarah’s as well.

The woman’s words echoed in Mullin’s head. You don’t need to say it. He wanted to say more. He couldn’t find the right words. He just stared at the woman. Tears streaked both of their faces. Mullin dropped his head, shaking it as it dropped. Without a word, he returned to his car.

Sarah watched as the police car backed out of her driveway. She glanced down at the bus ticket in her hands. She looked back up. The police car now out of sight. She could see the bus stop, the stop where the holder of the ticket was supposed to get off. Sarah nodded as she looked down the street at the bus stop.

Sarah walked back to her front door, closing it behind her as she walked back in her house.

What's in a name, too much. / Stealing kisses

2008-02-29T13:35:00.001-08:00

Names, they say a lot. Maybe too much.

Imagine you are set up on a blind date, what's your first question to the person? You ask what their name is. Often times you never ask whether or not the person is good looking. You can tell that from the name. Would you go on a blind date with a Gertrude? No. How about a Rebecca? Most likely.

Some names are just hotter than others. The best way to ensure your child is good looking is giving them a good name.

There is this girl in one of my classes. I noticed her one the first day of class. She was the kind of girl that I would like to date. Then I found out her name was Tammy. Tammy? What is that?

I was immediately turned off. It was weird. I had gone from complete infatuation. Asking this girl on a date had crossed my mind. Now I just saw her as a cute girl, an average one. I would no longer go out of my way to ask this girl out. If it happened, it happened, but I would not put forth the effort. All of this because I found out her name was Tammy.

Maybe if her name would have been Brittany, Abby or Sarah things would have been different.

It doesn't end there though.

Yesterday I found out some more information on her name. I found out how she spelled it. It's not Tammy, it's Tami. It doesn't make sense at all, but I fell in love. The name was the same, but the spelling completely changed my attitude towards this girl.

I'm more attracted to her now that I know her name is Tami then I was when I didn't know her name.

I don't get it. But I love this girl now.

_________________

Remember that song "Steal My Kisses" by Ben Harper? Call me crazy, but I don't think Ben had me stealing kisses from Justin in mind when he wrote the song.

A lot of you have probably heard by now, or saw, I was on the kiss cam last night along with Justin.

We were sitting in the first row. We had some third row seats, but when we were told the band wasn't going to be there and we could sit there, we made the move. Moving was a tough decision though. We didn't make up our minds easily. It was a good move in the end. In hindsight we spent to much time contemplating the move.

I took the end of the row, I like the end. Justin sat next to me.

This is where Loni comes in. She sat next to Justin.

The second media timeout of the half rolled around. That time out means one thing, kiss cam. (Although it used to be the first media timeout. I don't understand the change, but it was made.)

Here came the camera guy. Right in front of Justin and Loni. When I say right in front, I mean right in front. The camera was literally a foot away from their faces. It was awkward. It's one thing to have the camera zoomed in on you when you are a few rows back, but when it's right in front of your face it makes the pressure to perform immense.

I wasn't even on camera, but it was so close to me that I felt awkward. I should have been on camera. It has always been my dream to be on the kiss cam. I was so close. And now Justing would be taking my kiss cam glory. I couldn't let that happen.

I readied myself, the camera still uncomfortably too close. I looked up at the screen. As soon as Justin and Loni were on it... Bam! I made my move. Justin didn't even see it coming. I leaned over and stole his kiss.

I seized the day. Opportunities like that don't come around often, opportunities to become great. I saw it and I took. I became great for that brief moment. I left Justing laying on the ground in heap as I climbed the mountain of greatness and stole his kiss.

Take that Justin.

Re-living remembering memories and stealing memories

2008-02-27T11:47:00.000-08:00

I want everyone to know this going in, today's web log may be sub par. For measuring purposes sub par compared to my normal work is really, really crappy, instead of the usual really crappy.

Today I am working at a disadvantage. I'm pretty sure I didn't get all of the conditioner washed out of my hair during my morning shower. I didn't realize it until I was fully dressed. I tried to wash it out by sticking my head under the sink. The sink just isn't the same as the shower head. You can't get it all out. I got a lot of it, but there is still some there. I think it's more psychological than physical (although my head does feel a little heavier). Either way, my writing is going to be severely affected.

I was driving around just to drive last night. It's been a while since I'd done. I used to do it all the time. I'd just drive around listening to music. I think I'd partially do it just to justify my itunes addiction. If I drove around I'd listen to the music I just bought, therefore making me feel vindicated for buying it. Just for the record I added up my total itunes expenses the other day.

Hearing some songs would take me back to a time and place. I'd just drive around remembering a memory until the next song came. If there was no memory connected to a song I'd remember something and make the connection to the song. Thus making a memory connected to the song.

This is not quite the way it worked last night. Songs still brought back memories. The problem is that they were memories of me driving around remembering memories. I could see myself driving in the car, but I couldn't remember what I was thinking about. The only way I knew that I wasn't having an out of body experience, watching myself drive, is that I was driving in a different location from what I was seeing in my mind.

What started out as me trying to lock away memories by tying them to songs as I drove has now gone south. It's just me driving around thinking about how I used to drive around. I don't make memories anymore, unless they are of me driving around. I don't do anything anymore.

I suppose the easiest way to change this is to start doing stuff. Start making new memories. Then when I drive around I'll have stuff to lock away in my memory. Doing stuff is hard though. I've found an easier way.

Stealing memories.

I was at the basketball game the other day. I had to pee, so I went to the bathroom (for those that are wondering, the answer is no, I didn't wash my hands).

I walked into the bathroom. The only people in there were these two kids, sitting up against the wall. The had to be around 13 years of age. One of the kids was bawling. The other kid has his arm around the crybaby. Crybaby kept trying to wipe his tears away. He was probably too cool to cry. He couldn't let his friend see him cry. I don't think they even noticed that I had come into the bathroom.

"It's all right man," said the non-crying kid. An awkward pause persisted before he spoke again. "She said she still want to be friends. She just doesn't like you that way anymore."

Halftime of the basketball game started. Hoards of men began to flood the bathroom. The two kids continued to sit up against the wall, oblivious to the sea of men now in the bathroom. Crybaby was still crying, his friends arm still around him.

I don't know who the situation was more awkward for. The men who had just walked into the bathroom and had no idea what these two were doing or me, who knew.

What a great memory for those two kids. I'm going to take it. It's going to take some time, but one day I will run into an old buddy (let's call him Casey) and have this exchange.

"Hey Casey!" i say. "What's up man?"

"Oh hey man! I haven't seen you in years."

"I know, it has been forever."

This is where the long pause happens. There is always this pause when you run into an old buddy that you've lost contact with over the years. The pause happens because you have nothing to talk about. If you did have something to talk about you never would have lost contact with each other in the first place. So one of you goes and brings back up an old memory the two of you shared. You'll both revel in the reminiscing of the memory. Then one of two things happen. You finish reminiscing and you both stand there awkwardly and eventually walk away from each other. Or you start talking about what each other has been up to since you last saw each other. I don't know what's going to happen with this particular meeting. I could speculate, but that isn't what this story is about. It's about the reminiscing.

"Hey," I say. "Remember that time we went to the Aggie basketball game in 7th grade?"

"Do I? Which time?"

"The time that Ashlee dumped me. We were at the top of section L, just hanging out like we always did. She just walked up with a bunch of her friends and dumped me. They all walked away and I just stood there crying. You put your arm around me and walked me to the bathroom. How long did we sit there? Thirty minutes?"

"At least, man. At least. You were pretty shaken up."

"Yeah I was. I don't even know why anymore. What's that whore up to these days?"

"I don't know. I heard she joined a convent."

He knows she didn't join a convent. He just doesn't want to tell me what she is really doing. She's in porn now. But he's still a good friend that cares about my feelings. Even if we haven't seen each other in years. He isn't going to tell me that she is sleeping with vacuums now, but she wouldn't even fake, 7th grade date me.

I miss Ashlee.

What Is This 'S'?

2008-02-21T09:50:00.000-08:00

I now have my second running thing for this here web log. I have the question thing. I'll continue to make up questions for that, at least until you start sending in real ones. That'll probably happen every few weeks.

The new one will be done about once a month or so. I would do it more, but there just isn't enough 'S' being sold in the Logan area to do it that much.

I stole the idea from Adam Carolla's radio show. He has this segment that he does called "Who The 'F' Sells this 'S'?" They find 'S' on craigslist.com and then they find out who the 'F' is selling it.

Now usually when you steal ideas you at least make it the same if not better. Not me. I take the idea and make it worse. Mostly it's because I'm too lazy to actually get a hold of these people and figure out who the 'F' they are. Who knows though? Maybe if I get a positive response I'll start emailing these people and start to figure out who the 'F' sells this 'S', instead of just finding 'S'.

So welcome to the first installment of What Is This 'S'?

This lady is looking for a diet buddy. Seems like a good idea I suppose. She says she is looking for someone in the same boat as her though. The problem with that is she is in the unmotivated, poor time management boat. Shouldn't she be looking for someone the opposite of that? If she finds someone the same as her aren't these two ladies just going to end up sitting on the couch watching Oprah, eating bon bons and gaining more weight in a few months?

It appears as if she has already been on a "calorie diet" for 3 weeks. According to her she has already lost 12 lbs. You see that people? All you need to do to lose weight is to stop eating so F'ing much.

House swap?. First of all this guy is from Surprise, AZ which is sweet. If you have ever wanted to move there and you are a home owner in Logan, or a I assume the Logan area, this is your chance. I guess this is just a straight up swap of houses. No money involved. This seems weird to me. Apparently this kind of thing is fairly common, as there is a section devoted just to house swaps like this.

Beef to your house?. I don't even know what the hell this is. I don't know if I want to know what this is. "We will be in your town let me know if you want anyone." That's all it says. It's only $1 so if you want "anyone", beef, or whatever this is, here is your chance.

Doggy stepper. "these are awesome for your animal to get on high places. i have an extra. you can buy it." How many times have you seen a high place and wished your animal could get up there? Well don't let it happen to you again. Buy this doggy stepper for $1.

My favorite thing about craigslist is that you actually have to deal with these people. It isn't like ebay where you just indirectly deal with the seller/buyer, then get your stuff in the mail. On craigslist you actually go to this person's house or meet them somewhere. These are the kind of people I need in my life. The kind that sell doggy steppers for $1.

Too Soon?. I actually don't have a problem with this. Except that they had to mention that the picture is pre 9/11. No crap.

License plates. This is another person that I want to meet. I'm sure this Rosie lady is an old grandma. She has to be old if she just gives her phone number out like that.

Fat girl looking for cap and gown. Priceless.

Another one of those people that I want to meet. They post this every Sunday. They really want them.

On second thought, maybe I do need to fully steal Adam's idea and find out who the 'F' sells this 'S'.

My favorite item of the week.. It's an HGTV. If you love the home and/or garden, this is the tv for you. Sure it only gets one channel, but the picture on that one channel is awesome.

Me The Hero

2008-02-06T08:56:00.000-08:00

It took me less than five hours after writing yesterdays web log to find out that people falling isn't always funny. To be fair though, I did say it was funny when people slip and fall, not just fall.

Maybe I'm not a hero. I was just doing what anyone else would have done. You can choose not to call me a hero if you want. As for me, I consider myself a hero. If you don't find me to be a hero you can just shut up.

I was at Wal*Mart doing my weekly shopping. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except I went at two o'clock instead of the usual 5 o'clock. Other than that everything was normal. I was coming out of aisle 10, heading north.

(Please note I don't actually remember what aisle I was coming out of, but for plot purposes let's just say it was aisle 10. For those that don't know their directions, if you come out of one of the aisles at Wal*Mart heading north you would be going towards the meat section.)

I exited aisle 10 and there was a cart in the way. I could still get around it, but it was a nuisance. Who did this guy think he was, just standing there? He was in the way and he didn't seem to care. He just stood there. Right between aisles 9 and 10 in front of a display case of Gatorade. At least he could have pulled his car parallel to the display case, but no, he had to have his cart at a 45 degree angle. I went around him. A nuisance, but he was old, probably in his 70s, so I figured I'd give the old guy a break.

I needed to get some meat, so I went over and got some. I turned my cart around and headed back towards the aisles. The old man was still there. Standing right in front of the Gatorade display case, between aisles 9 and 10. He hadn't moved an inch.

I stopped my cart about five feet away from the old man. I looked down aisle 9 to see if I needed anything on it. I didn't want to walk all the way down it if I didn't need anything down there. I searched the aisle. I kept glancing at the old man. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. Eventually I stopped scanning the aisle and just stared at the old man.

He looked dazed and confused. He only had five or six items in his cart. He was probably thinking about what else he needed to put in there, I thought.

It'd been about two minutes since I first spotted the old man. He hadn't moved the entire time.

He finally moved.

His knees bent. They stayed bent for a few seconds. Then they started to shake. It was like he was trying to stand back up straight, but he couldn't do it. The front of of his cart started to rise. He was putting all of his weight on the handle, trying to stay upright.

I was done watching. I left my cart there and started to walk towards the man.

"Si..."

I couldn't even say one word before he was on the ground, flat on his back. He didn't hit the ground hard. The cart had slowed his fall. The cart was going down with him though. He had held onto it as he fell, only letting go when he hit the ground. The front end of the cart was heading for his head.

I reached my right hand out, grabbed the cart and picked it up. I moved it away from the old man and set it down.

By the time I'd set the cart down there were already 3 or 4 people around the old man. One lady was kneeling next to him, her husband joined her shortly after.

One guy had pulled his phone out. He bent down, informed us all that he'd call 911. For some reason he had to hold his phone out and wave it in front of everyone's face as he said it. I half expected him to ask what the number was.

If the old man ever lost consciousness it was only for a split second. He was responding to the old lady that was kneeling next to him the whole time. She repeatedly asked him if he was all right. His only response was that he was diabetic.

The lady on her knees looked up and asked for some juice, candy, anything. I reached for the bag of candy in my cart.

(Now some of you may be saying, bull crap. You think that since there was a bag of candy in my cart that I'm making the story up. That's not the case. Most of you know that I hardly ever eat candy. I certainly don't eat it enough to be buying a bag of it. Those of you that know that probably also know that along with my grocery shopping, I go for my mom too. She has me buy bags of candy occasionally. I guess there is this bowl at work that she always puts it in. Supposedly no one knows that it's her that keeps putting candy in the bowl. They all just think it's the magical bowl of candy that miraculously get filled.)

I couldn't even grab the bag of candy fast enough. One man had already ripped a bottle of Gatorade off the display case and had opened it. He handed the bottle to the lady kneeling next to the old man. Another gentleman helped the man sit up and drink the Gatorade.

I didn't know what to do. Everyone else there seemed to have everything under control. I was just in the way now.

A few of the old man's items had fallen out of his cart during the fall. I walked over, picked them up and put them back in his cart. I don't know what good that did. He probably wasn't going to finish his shopping that day. Having put his items back in his cart, I continued my shopping.

I made my way towards the produce. I kept think about the old man. About how he just fell. How I was just upset with him for being in the way. I felt bad. I was kind of scared too. What if I had missed the cart? The man appeared to be all right, but what if the cart fell on him? I stopped thinking about the old man.

I tried to concentrate on finishing my shopping. It was hard with the policemen and paramedics running by.

I thought about the Gatorade. Who pays for it? Does Wal*Mart just bite the bullet on that one? Do they make the guy who pulled it off the shelve pay? Does the old man pay for drinking it?

Real Friends Notice When Their Friends Fall

2008-02-05T16:49:00.000-08:00

We've all seen it. We all think it's funny. I don't care who you are, when someone slips and falls, it's funny. Often times hilarious.

It's winter now. People fall more. That's really the only good thing about winter.

I was lucky enough to witness someone slip the other day.

I was walking to class. Maybe I was walking home. I don't remember, but I guess it doesn't really matter where I was going. I was walking alone. Not surprising since I have no friends.

I was just walking along, looking at people as I sometimes do. It's probably creepy, but I don't care. I spotted a group of three just ahead of me, one guy, two girls. I was jealous. They were probably friends. They all had someplace to go and they were doing it together. I had someplace to go and I was alone. I could have cried.

I almost did start crying. Before I could it happened. One of the girls just fell. Not just any fall. The best kind of fall there is. The hands in the pocket fall. It was made even better by the fact that the two she was walking with didn't even notice. They walked at least ten feet before they noticed their walking partner was no longer with them.

The whole scene was hilarious. I wanted to laugh. I couldn't. I didn't want to look like a dick. I held my laughter in.

There is a problem when you hold laughter in. It always comes out. It doesn't come out as a normal laugh. It's always just some muffled slight chuckle, which in it's self is hilarious. So you laugh at that. You're left laughing at yourself trying not to laugh and the original hilarious event, in this case the girl slipping on the ice. Only you are still trying to hold your laughter in. The vicious cycle just keeps going. The only way to end it is with one big belly laugh.

That's what happened to me. I didn't want to look like I dick. I did. Not only did I look like a dick, I looked like an idiot for trying to hold my laughter in. I realized you might as well just laugh the first time. Sure you'll like like a dick, but at least you won't look like an idiot too.

After thinking about the merits of not holding laughter in I realized something. Those people weren't friends. They just happened to be walking together. People can't do that.

They should have to walk alone. People think they are friends when they walk together. Then people walking alone, like me, feel bad. We almost cry, sometimes we do.

The next time you walk around campus with someone ask yourself this question. If this person fell would I notice?

If the answer is no, stop walking them. You aren't friends. Stop acting like you have friends. Walk alone with the rest of the friendless.

If the answer is yes, you may continue walking with them. But please be mindful of those around you. Those of us that have no one to walk around with. Don't get to friendly with your friends as you walk. We might cry. We're lonely walking by ourselves. No one notices us, unless we fall.

In case anyone cares Jack Johnson's new cd came out today. I pre-ordered it so long ago, I'd forgotten about it. Then it just started downloading today.

Due to the fact that no one seems to know who Adam Carolla is, I might not ever write that web log. Turns out only half the people I talk to know who he is. And that is after I go on for minutes about him, then it's like "oh yeah, that guy." Only two people have known who he is from his name alone. I don't know why. It's Adam Carolla. Everyone should know who he is. Maybe I should wait till next month when his movie comes out. Then people will know who he is. Hopefully his movie, 'The Hammer', does well. Then someone might let him make 'Pedoph-isle'.

Goodbye

2008-01-31T14:06:00.000-08:00

Driving just to drive happens to me a lot. The drives are never planned, they just happen. Nothing ever comes out of the drives, except once. That one drive changed my life.

I missed my turn. I'd missed it before. I would just have to drive a little farther and take the next available turn. They both got me home.

I missed my turn again. I was left with two options: turn around or head into the canyon toward Bear Lake. I don't know why, but I took the Bear Lake option.

I hated going to Bear Lake. It always made me think of my dad. Thinking of my dad always led to crying. This time was no different. My crying did not cease for the rest of the night.I wanted to turn around, but I didn't. I wound my way along the canyon road with tears streaming down my face, with what I call my sleepy playlist playing in the background. I disguise it as my sleepy playlist, depressed would be a better name for it.

I was still unsure as to why I was going to Bear Lake. I was looking for something. I just didn't know what it was yet. I got to the end of the canyon road and I all I knew is that I wanted to go left. It was somewhere on the northwest side of Bear Lake, along the main road.

How am I going to know when I find it? That was the only thought in my head. It had been 15 years since I had been near the spot. Surely I wouldn't recognize it.

I didn't recognize it. I passed it. I knew I had gone too far, but I couldn't convince myself of that. I kept driving. I finally listened to myself when I reached Montpelier, Idaho. I had gone 30 miles past the point where I knew I had gone too far. I wasn't even on the northwest end of Bear Lake anymore, and that is all I knew about where I wanted to be. I was over on the northeast end.

I turned around headed back the way I came. I was going home. I had wasted an entire night and I don't even know what it was I was intending to do. I drove along, tears still flowing, questions going through my head. Why did I want to go back there? What was I going to do when I got there, stand there?

I'd been standing there for 15 years.

Standing there, watching the open gate so no animals would escape.

Standing there, as my dad started the tractor and began to pull the heavy load of the cabin.

Standing there, watching the front end rise slightly from the heavy load as the tractor attempted to make it up the small slope to the road.

Standing there, as my mom and oldest brother got on the frontto help counterbalance the load.

Standing there, as my brother jumped off as the front end started to rise again, this time uncontrollably with my mom still on.

Standing there, the front end sticking straight up, my mom still atop. The front end jerking, throwing my mom off and trying to return to the ground twice as fast as it went up. Only to find a tractor in its way, and my dad, still in the driver's seat.

Standing in the house across the street, staring at the numerous flashing lights.

Standing as one with my brothers, as my mom lay in her hospital bed trying to find the words to tell us what had happened.

Standing there, 6 years old, too young to comprehend what had just happened.

I was glad I hadn't found the spot. I needed to move on, stop standing there. It had been 15 years.

Then I saw it.

It looked completely different, but something about it was still the same. I knew it was the place I had been looking for; it was differently the same.

I slowed down, said goodbye and continued on my way home.

Goodbye. One word. My tears became those of relief and happiness.

It had been three hours since I missed my turn. Nothing had really changed except that it was a little darker, but for me my path had never before been so well lit.

Sex In The Gym, Adam Carolla and The Time I Couldn't Stop Laughin

2008-01-31T09:42:00.002-08:00

g.

If you are wondering what that lone 'g' is, it there because I ran out of room in the title. I didn't just drop the 'g' on purpose. (Please note that I originally wrote this on Facebook where there is a limit to how long your title can be. There is no limit on here, that I've found. I Just thought I would keep things consistent. Then I added this little disclaimer, making things not consistent.)

"Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah Ahh, Ahhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhhh, Ahhhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhhhh, Ahhhhhhhh, Aaahhhhhhhhhh."

That's what I heard in the gym yesterday. I was surprised to hear anything. I had my headphones in. I normally can't hear anything when I have them in. I could hear these sounds of what I thought was pure excitement and ecstasy loud and clear. They would have been deafening cries without my headphones.

Is someone watching porn? Did the gym get hard up for money and they are letting people shoot porn in here

If you remember back to my last post, I told you about these two guys that are always at the gym now. The one is obviously on steroids and I think the other one may be. It turns out there is a third one. He's not on steroids, but I can only assume he will be soon if he always goes to the gym with those two.

They guy who just took his shirt off in the middle of the gym and started flexing for no reason the other day, he's the one who was having sex in the gym. At least it sounded like sex.

I had to go check it out. You know, in case he wasn't really having sex and he was dying or something.

Turns out he was just doing leg extensions. He wasn't having sex at all. A feeling of disappointment, I mean foolishness came over. I can't believe I thought he was having sex.

The guy was doing a burnout set. At least I hope that is what he was doing, he was only lifting 60 pounds or so. For those that don't know that a burnout set is, I'll fill you in. A lot of times, when lifting, for their last set people will do three or four sets with relatively light weight. People will do it because it's good to do and it gives you a gauge on how good your workout before that set was. Even though it's a light weight, if you had a good, hard workout before you won't be able to get that many reps in.

He was doing a light weight so he would start out fast and then slow down as he had to strain more and more to get the weight up. I can understand breathing hard or a little grunt. But this guy was making noises I've never heard before. Even for sex they would have been a little too much.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was only lifting 60 pounds and that no one is ever at the gym I go to, I'd think he was one of those guys that just lifts so people will see him there and see how much he can lift. You know, like all the people at the Fieldhouse.

To make things worse he was doing legs that day and he walked around doing that Speedo thing with his shorts again.

I hate this guy. If only he was like every other person who starts going to the gym in January. I'd only have to put up with maybe two more weeks of this.

I know the title also has Adam Carolla in it and the time I couldn't stop laughing, but I don't want to write about those and make this thing too long.

I actually never intended to write about those two things in here. I'm going to save them for a later time. They are really just in the title as a reminder to myself that I have to write about them.

Sorry to Adam Carolla, if he read this expecting to read something himself.

So This Guy Walks Into This Bar...

2008-01-31T09:42:00.001-08:00

If you want to know what happens to the guy in the bar, it's at the end of this. I suggest reading this or you won't get it.

I hate January. All these people with their resolutions to lose weight. They all made the same resolution last year. They're still just as fat if not fatter now. Stop making the resolution, you are just taking up space in the gym.

As many of you know I pay $20 a month to go to an uncrowded gym, instead of going to the Fieldhouse for free. I'm not telling you which gym cause I don't want you crowding the place up. The reason I don't go to the Fieldhouse is mostly because of the crowding.

The Fieldhouse is treated more like a lounge than a gym. It's just full of people sitting and laying on the equipment. Occasionally they'll use it. You know while there are using it they are saying 'hey baby look at me' in their head.

Then you have the people on the cardio equipment. They're just using that stuff so people will look at them and be impressed that they are running/biking/ellipticaling. Never mind the fact that they are just going to eat a half gallon of ice cream when they get home and they had 4 pieces of cake before they went. Look at them now though. They are on the treadmill.

Whenever I go to the Fieldhouse I just ride the bike. Sometimes I do other stuff, but that is rare. Along with the normal bike I always do the hand bike. It's like my big 'eff you to everyone in there. I use the one thing in there practically no one else ever uses. Quite possibly the gayest thing in the place. I use it cause it's good to use, but it doesn't hurt that it makes a statement at the same time. I know I look gay when I use it, but I'm not there to not look gay. I'm there to work out. That's what the rest of you should be there for.

Working out is not what people are there for though. They are there to look good, try to at least. Then they look around at all the other people. I'm surprised there aren't more accidents in there with the amount of looking going on. But I guess you have to actually be doing something for an accident to occur. The Fieldhouse is pretty much a G-rated peep show. Maybe even PG. Whatever it is, it sure isn't a gym anymore.

You're also expected to talk to people when you are at the gym. This occurs at every gym I suppose, but it's even worse at the peep show known as the Fieldhouse. I don't talk to people when I'm at the gym. I go out of my to not talk to people. I even go out of my way to not give people a wink, a nod, a smile, a hand raise or anything. I try to just avoid eye contact all together.

Against my will, I feel obligated to say something to one guy that goes to my gym. He's always there when I'm there. I feel like I have to say something. I'm not a dick and I don't want him thinking that. That still doesn't stop me from trying to avoid him. I won't go in the locker room when he's in there. I walk around machines to avoid him. Inevitably though, our paths cross. I'm forced to give a small hand wave and say something. I always have my headphones in and I can't hear anything with them in. He says something to me and I'll say something back. I can't hear him though, so I'm sure my response is always non-sensical. I probably am always yelling at him too. That doesn't matter though, cause we are the only ones in there.

That was until last month. It happens every year at January. The gym gets crowded. I know they'll all be gone soon. They can't hack it. They just sit on the equipment anyways. I can wait the few more weeks until they go back to watching their soap operas at home.

The problem is that there is these two new guys. I think they may keep coming. I've seen them a couple of times before, but ever since the new year they have been in regularly. This isn't a big problem. They just make 4 people in there instead of 2. The problem is the guy on steroids. Don't act like you aren't on steroids either. I saw you back in September/Octoberish time. That was only 4 months ago. You just don't naturally get that much bigger in 4 months.

I don't have a problem with his steroid taking. If he wants small testicles, so be it. It's the fact that he walks around pulling his shorts up like a Speedo as he walks around. Then the other day, right in the middle of the gym, he just takes his shirt off. Taking his shirt off just made it more apparent of steroid use. But really, you need to take your shirt off in the middle of the gym with like 8 other people in there? Seriously, are you gay? Then he proceeds to flex in the mirror for a couple of minutes. Who the hell does this guy think he is? At least go to locker room.

If he's just going to flex and admire himself all time time he should just go to the Fieldhouse. He'd fit in there. That's all the goes on there.

I didn't mean to go on like that. I just went on an Adam Carolla type rant. I realize this often times didn't make sensee, but that is what a rant is. It's a coincidence that I went on a Adam Carolla rant because that is another thing I was going to talk about. I'll do that at a later date.

But anyways, this guy walks into this bar. He orders a couple of beers throughout the night. Turns out this bar has Wi-Fi and he just happens to have his laptop on him. So he logs on to Facebook. He's a little drunk by this point. He starts reading some notes. What was he reading? Some poem by this Amanda chick. Last call comes and he orders another beer. Goes outside and calls a cab to take him home.

He left his laptop there, still open showing the poem written by some Amanda chick. The bartender changes the page the screen is on. He changes it to a new note. What note is it? It's this one.

The guy comes back the next day to get his laptop. To his surprise, it's still open on the counter. He can tell it's still on a Facebook note. As he gets closer he can see that it isn't the poem by some Amanda chick. It's this note. He doesn't remember looking at this note.

"What the hell?" He says. "I must have been really wasted last night to read this crap."

Not all stories that start with a guy going into a bar are funny.