Shout, Shout, Let it All Out. (shout-out blog time!)

Ever have one of those days where things just kinda fall into place? I mean, I went into work feelin' awesome today, then my coworkers were being awesome, so they bounced some awesomeness back at me, which in turn made me awesome-er, and I reflected some awesome back to them and... well, we had a reciprocal Awesome-Fest going on, it was rad.. Anyway, I know I usually blog about two-headed girls or wieners or robots or whatever, but just wanted to have a sorta-serious post, for the record. Just a lil' shout out to all the people who add to the awesome in my life. You know who you are! And if you don't, well...

The Badger: Your engagement proposal story made me excited for hot air balloons in the future.

Amanda D/K: talk about catchin up, you made my Sunday truly enjoyable, thanks for the laughs/ideas/fun and games in general!

Jen Jen: if laughter is the best medicine, you just made me overdose.

Raskin: My man-pal, you rock so much harder than me on a daily basis. I truly share in yer excitement everyday, u got some good things comin' duder.

Heck Yeah, man: Every time u are funny, i miss you more, meatfriend. Keep er' growin', son.

Cody Girl is Sweet: you are sweet. indoor camping gets me pumped, even if it's all talk and we never do it! i still have your xmas present to give you, sad!

The Condor: Always spicing up the workplace. Fake fights and hipster blame-games are always a good time!

Benny Ju Ju: One of a select few who can actually appreciate 'Tim and Eric' with me. My partner in crime come 6AM. My greatest foe when it comes to "the game" (rule no. 1: the game is always on!)

B-Pain: I have no embarrassment when it comes to making strange noises with you, acting old-british (is that what we're doing Bosworth?), and arguing (that's fun, right?).

JuJack: My biggest mistake in life was the incident at Palmers..."you go first." Sorry bud. Consistent trivia accomplice, smartass, and perfecter of the shark laugh.

Cristabell: energy partner! i never get sick of discussing all things larry arms/sundowner with you! also, when i'm too goofy, you keep me in check by giving me the "ohgod" look.

Dolphin: Do they have blogs in British? Miss ya!

Nater-cakes: I always look forward to flipping you off daily. The human garbage disposal.

Nicolej: sorry for so many q's. provider of ideas. oh, i still read yer blog!

CMG: Sorry i fake getting mad at you, you're precious, definitely not a robot.

Nick B: Family man, lifetime BFF, ultimate bandmate, reader of this blog?


So, I left you off this list, eh? Yell at me in the comments section and I swear I'll make it up to you! Oh, and a lot of you will have no idea who these people are, sorry! I will get back to blogging about penises and food and other silly things in good time, hang in there. Oh, and thanks for reading!

I Hate Robots.

So have you noticed all the goddamn robots everywhere? I mean, it's getting pretty out of hand. They're freakin' all over the place. Oh, hey hot girl in the cereal isle at Target, talking to me about CSI: Miami. No, I've never watched the show, but I'd... oh, fuck. You're not talking to me at all, you're talking to your mother on your goddamn cyborg Bluetooth headset thingy hidden in your ear. Cyborg! Dammit. Hey dude at the checkout counter, thanks for bagging my stuff, have a nice day! (says me with a smile)... NO reaction. Robot. It's gotten to the point now where I can't even distinguish the real homeless, batshit-crazy bums who talk to themselves from the cyborg Bluetooth bums who talk to themselves. It's getting confusing. The robots are evolving and learning new tricks, too. It's becoming harder and harder to tell just who's a good ol' flesh and blood dude, and who's a power-hungry angry fucking robot. For all of you humans still out there, I thought I'd create a handy lil' guide to help you spot the metal ones. I present to you, HOW TO RECOGNIZE THOSE GODDAMN ROBOTS.

HOW TO RECOGNIZE THOSE GODDAMN ROBOTS (Pt. 1)

• If you have a beard, you're not a robot.

• Robots hate Halloween. It disorients them.

• Robots don't hiccup.

• You know those girls who always have the camera out at parties? The same type who upload 50 pictures a day on Facebook? Seems like they really wanna document as much human activity as they can. Guess what? They're a fuckin' robot.
  

• Wisconsin people = Not Robots.

• I don't know whether or not Oprah is a robot, but if she is, we're fucked.

• Check in their mouths... braces? Robot.

• Robots that sit next to me at work pretend to like shitty jam band music like Umphrey's McGee, but there's no way any human could stand listening to that crap.

• New Yorkers = Mean Robots.

• If someone has many piercings, the likelihood that they are robotic is increased. Robots love metal. If said "person" listens to metal music, another sign right there. Also watch for fake arm tattoos on this kind. The rebel type. Robo-rebels. They're tricky fuckers, and they'll do anything to blend in with society by "not blending in".

• Nicole Kidman is a robot. Victoria Beckham is a robot. Tom Cruise is a robot. More specific model: Gaybot.

• People who pronounce "Caramel" all douchebaggy-like are robots. You know what I'm talkin' bout. "Care-a-mel." Fuck you. CARMEL. It's pronounced "CAR-MEL". (On a side note, people who actually eat the caramel part of the three-flavored popcorn tin at Christmas are robots. Cheese and regular, son!)

• In restaurants, you'll see a table of three people, all with their cell phones out, texting away. Robots. Oh, and guess who they're texting? Each other. And they're probably talking about what food they will order and pretend to eat to look more human.

• People who leave their Christmas lights out for half a damn year are robots. Shrouding your house in electrics is a dead giveaway for robotism.

• If you ask someone what their favorite number is, and they say 1 or 0, they are a robot.

• Someday someone somewhere will invent the FuckBot. It's a robot you can fuck. I'm all aboard with this idea, but just be careful and don't let the FuckBot kill you or implant anything into your brain.

If you or any other human you know would like to join me in the anti-robot movement, please leave a comment. We shall organize and form... THE HUMAN LEAGUE. (Also, I know that The Human League was a mildly gay synth pop band in the 80's, but I think that can only help our cause.) Let's fight these goddamn metal bastards!

Gum Chewin' Contest at Work Today.

Shout out to The Condor, for providing the gum.

Na Na...Na Na Na Na..Hey Hey Hey, GOODBYE!!!

Crazy Sundays

Ok, listen up... I know a lot of you ADHD kids can't sit still long enough to actually read more than one paragraph, but pleeease bear with me and read through this one. It's worth it, trust me. If not, I'll buy ya a beer next time I see ya, or I won't. Also, this post will be totally offensive to some people, deal with it.

So I have this buddy (also a fellow blogger, check this shit out, you're in for a treat) and back in our college days we would get together for what we called "Crazy Sundays." Now "Crazy Sundays" could pretty much be summed up as two hetero dudes chillin, gettin' fucked up, and being... well, crazy I guess. Most of the craziness was spent sitting on the couch, watching ridiculous movies like the classic Krull (remind me to blog about that movie later, it deserves a post of it's own), and laughing our asses off.

So Sunday comes along, my buddy comes over, we get crazy. On this particular Sunday, we decide we want some food, but not some cheap McCrap or tacos or bullshit. We wanted some real, sit-down, comfort food. Ya know, to get outta the house, change it up a bit. Thus the dawning of the "Crazy Sunday Field Trip." Mind you, we're both completely out of our skulls at this point (I'll let you use your imagination), so we're thinking we'll have to go somewhere that we can both be complete idiots and not really give a hoot. We settle on the mega-haven of food variety, the slop trough for 8-kid families, the Wal-Mart of restaurant chains, OLD COUNTRY BUFFET.

We drive over to the local OCB (not sure if we should've been driving, oops!) and get our chow on. If you've never experienced OCB, then you're probably not the type of person who avoids eating all day prior to visiting OCB, just so you can gorge yourself on platefuls of carved roast beef, mac n cheese, and pizza (Shout-out to the meat-cutter guy! Nice job, bud). If you haven't been there, you'd be the type who would actually go to the salad bar first, rather than start with a plate full of meat or grease. The type who doesn't list "eating" as one of their hobbies. The type who's never dipped their fries in chocolate ice cream, or stuck their head under the soda machine dispenser. The type who would be opposed to puking in the parking lot afterwards. The type of person I would kindly refer to as a douchebag. You know the type. IF you haven't done the OCB thing yet, seriously, suck up your pride and get over there. No one really cares about your "image" anyway, and trust me, you can put off your banana-and-purified-water-diet for one day. Live, dammit.

Anyhoo, as I'm sitting there at the table, probably finishing up my awesome bread pudding or something, my buddy says something relatively funny, in which case I begin to giggle like a school girl. The giggles start to become chuckles. Soon the chuckles become all-out uncontrollable laughter. I mean I'm just geekin out hardcore, I can't stop damn laughing! I don't even remember the joke, but doesn't matter, the real punchline is coming... So I'm sittin' there laughin', and we start getting some looks from some fat people; things were taking a turn towards the awkward. My buddy, who at that point seemed to show a little more restraint and self-control, seemed to think my hysterical laughter was gettin a lil' out of hand. He looks me in the eye and says, "DUDE, YOU'RE BEING RETARDED!", and at that same exact moment I look past him, and what do I see??? At the table right behind us there is an ACTUAL retarded kid in a wheelchair, going "Darrr..."
I mean, holy fucking shit. I think to myself, "What the hell is happening right now..." My buddy has no idea that the most ridiculous coincidence has just occurred, and I just completely lose it. I do not think that I have ever in my life laughed so hard as I did at that one moment. I felt like I was on another planet. A planet where I would puke from laughing so hard. There were tears. I think I tried explaining to my buddy what had just happened, but couldn't speak; I was frickin' laughing so hard, I ended up just pointing behind him to show him what I was spazzing about. We ended up just sitting there, wiggin' out, roaring with laughter, mentally challenged dude a few feet away, with the whole damn restaurant staring at us. Holy shit, good times, good times. Crazy Sunday indeed.



P.S.> I am really sorry if I offended anyone who's against the use of the R word, or laughing at the handicapped, or whatever, but that's really the only way I could tell that tale.

Have a good day.

Lil' Smokies

Today I'm blogging about Lil' Smokies, cause they're goddamn delicious.

I can't really get my thoughts together right now to form complete paragraphs that sum up my feelings of adoration and appreciation for this delectable cocktail party treat, so I'll just give you some interesting FACTS about the national treasure known as "Lil' Smokies"...

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-They are also referred to as "Cocktail Weenies" - a name equally, if not more, ridiculous.

-They're like little midget fingers in tangy sauce.

-Lil' Smokies taste way better when you use a toothpick.

-You get to use a toothpick. How often does that happen in life?

-These things were popular as shit back in the late 90's.

-When I'm at a baseball game and eating a normal hotdog, I always think two things:
1) "Would it be socially acceptable to put barbecue sauce on this?"
and 2) "I wish that rather than one big hot dog, I had 8 miniature hotdogs."

-I hear that some Lil' Smokie recipes call for grape jelly. Weird.

-Lil' Smokies were invented in 1913 by my great grandmother Mable Dusinghauserton (pictured).


-If you're eating Lil' Smokies, then you're probably at some kick ass party or get-together for a football game. And if you're at a kick ass party, then you're probably drinking beer. And if you're drinking beer and eating Lil' Smokies, there's a good chance something is gonna get fucked up. Too much awesome.

-If someone actually had the nickname "Lil' Smokie", I would make a minimal effort to become their friend.

-When you have a paper plate full of food at a potluck, and you finish your Smokies, there's always plenty of BBQ dipping sauce left for your other items.

-I own a crock-pot. I think it was a shitty X-mas present or something. When the flip am I gonna use a damn crock-pot? Lil' Smokie time, that's when fool!

-Lil' Smokies are easy to digest. (That's probably untrue, but I was running out of ideas)

-3 movies that come to mind when discussing Lil' Smokies - Smokey and the Bandit (1977), Big Trouble in Lil' China (1986), and Lil' Miss Sunshine (2006).

BEST MUSICK 2008

Yo, I love year-end music lists, despite all of them being littered with Bon Iver. So here is the REAL list of the best music of 2008. No Bon Iver, I promise.

10. Nada Surf, Lucky - I jammed this record pretty hard in early '08. Some good mid-tempo, make you smile stuff.



9. Silver Jews, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea - Though far from the best Joos release, it's still packed with genius, witty lyrics, dry delivery, and intricate guitar noodling. Perfect for sleeping in a grassy meadow.



8. Retribution Gospel Choir, s/t - Duluth legend Alan Sparhawk is back. A needed diversion from the quiet, bitter drone of Low, this album moves forward with rollicking drums, fuzzed-out guitars, and great harmonies. Long live local dive-club rock.


7. Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, Real Emotional Trash - Weirdo stoner guitar jamz to the max.




6. Fucked Up, The Chemistry of Common Life - Grrrrrowl. In college my friends had this house where we'd just drink booze and break stuff. This reminds me of that.



5. Pavement, Brighten the Corners: Nicene Creedence Edition - A re-release here, and a spectacular one at that. I'll admit I am a sucker for the super-mega-deluxe versions of any album, but they go above and beyond on these Pavement reissues. If you like reminiscing about the 90's, this is the favorite band you never knew you had.

4. No Age - Nouns - On the edge of "too abrasive", this noise-rock album is an immediate turn-off. But being the persistent person that you are, you decide to give it a go one more time. Once you finally see through the shrouded static guitar haze, you realize you've found a melodic indie-pop treat.


3. Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago - Shit, I said I wouldn't include this... who was I kidding? Representin' E.C. Wisco, Justin Vernon just might have created the greatest lonely winter album of all time (or at least '08). Lush, in a good way. If listening to a packed room of lonely people shout out "What might have been lost..." doesn't make you (gulp) teary eyed, then maybe you're a gargoyle.



2. The Gaslight Anthem, The '59 Sound - As I write this, I know 80% of my office is rockin' this out on their iPods right now. Everyone and their mother is hoppin' onto this one, and for good reason. It's like listening to a familiar punk band that tweaked the formula just a bit, trading in a bit of the edge for nostalgic catchiness. It's punk rock Elvis. It's like listening to a fond memory of driving to the hop, hair slicked back, grabbing a few burgers and malts, then driving around chasing girls...then of course crashing the car and eating your last meal of metal and glass.

1. Dillinger Four, C I V I L W A R - After 6 years, D4 fans were finally awarded this long-overdue album, and disappointment was nowhere to be found. Some familiar things remain intact: the explosive poppy punk barrage, gruff vocals, socially conscious lyrical content, and of course those darn silly sound clips. However this album has ventured a bit further. It's not just about getting black-out drunk and taking off your clothes just to piss off "the man" anymore. Well, maybe. The album has a sense of maturity, yet not too much. CIVILWAR is for the crowd in their late 20's/early 30's who have been fed just a bit too much of the downer indie slow bullshit all year, and crave a much-needed energy burst. If 2008 was like spending all year at grandma's playing Cribbage with your family, this album is the moment you get in your own car, blast the stereo, and head back to Minneapolis. But be careful, punk air drumming will make you crash your car.

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So there ya go, the best of an interesting year of crap. If you don't agree, you're wrong. Oh, I should also mention to all those Fleet Foxes fans... I don't get it. Seriously, am I alone in thinking this band is overfuckinghyped? I mean like y2k over-hyped. Like Indiana Jones and the Bucket of Arabian Semen over-hyped. "Hey indie rock kids, do you like church music? Awesome!" Ugg.

On that note, tune in to 2009 to see if the radio can get much worse, if any hip hoppers will make a song without that auto tune bullshit, or if there will actually be 10 more albums put out that don't eat dong.