Thursday, June 23, 2005

The Basket Story

Before telling the story of all stories, I must first delve into it's history. Our story of how the story was found begins with a young but restless Edward Kurht, genius and unparalled athlete. After many years of dominating in everything imaginable, our dear friend Edward began to question the meaning behind his life. After much searching, Edward found himself in South-Central Asia, where he heard rumors of a wise old man on top of a mountain.

Unfortunately, the half-coherent old sailor Kurht interrogated gave him innaccurate directions and our hero found himself imprisoned in the Bastille. Though it is known that no one escapes from the Bastille, Cap'n Kurht (as he has become known these days) trained with the best escape artists in the world when he was bored on a three-day weekend and quickly freed himself of his shackles and, dispatching of several snooty frenchmen and a mime, continued on his search. He once again found himself hot on the trail of the elusive man on the mountain after a tip from a sheep hearder who's flock lay in the oasis hidden in the arid hell of the Sahara led him to a one-legged, former member of the KGB who claimed to know of the location and where "the bodies were buried." Sadly, the KGB agent was struck dead by the hoof of an errant cow before he could divulge the informantion that our dear Cap'n so desperately needed. Though dead, the KGB agent still had much to tell. Kurht was a master frisker and discovered a cartograph hidden in the hollowed out stump which passed for the wretched man's leg.

Using the map, Kurht found a treasure ship hidden in a cave and was forced to eliminate a rag-tag team of children and a gang of thugs who were also vying for the treasure, as well as a hideous creature who cried, "You have killed Sloth!!!!" before breathing his last as Kurht's dagger sunk into his burly chest. After feasting upon the remains, Kurht then searched the ship, finding not only riches beyond his wildest dreams but also a manuscript describing a journey to the far ends of the earth. After pouring over the exciting tome for several hours, Kurht turned to page 376 and found what he had been looking for for what seemed to be a lifetime.

Investing his riches in the Beta video format, Kurht charted a plane to the mysterious location of the man on the mountain. Parachuting at the base, and climbing up, Kurht had to dispatch of several Yettis before reaching the hallowed temple of the man.Entering through an old moaning door, Kurht found himself in the most beautiful room he had ever seen. After several moments of taking the room in, Kurht suddenly realized a man was sitting across from him on a jewel-encrusted throne in far reaches of the vast temple. Walking to him, the man asked, "What do you want of me?"

Kurht answered, "Sir, I have traveled the world and done many great deeds in search of you and I have come hear only to ask one question: What, oh great wise one, is the meaning of life?"

The man answered, "If you can defeat me in hand to hand combat, I will tell you." With that, the man flung himself at Kurht with a flurry of kicks and jabs and the most glorious battle the world has ever seen ensued. After many days of bloody and vicious bare-knuckle brawling, Kurht finally gained the upper hand, using a technique he once learned when babysitting for the third top box-office seller in the nation. After submitting, the decrepit old man divulged his secret and Kurht left, triumphant, determined to share his new found wisdom with others.

Flashforward several years, and we find our hero has decided that becoming a teacher at the prestigious Clay High School under the command of general P-Mac was the best way to share the life- shattering utterances of the wise old man. It was there that he passed down this story to me, and now I share it with you. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...

The Basket Story
So there was this lady with a basket full of money, living in Germany in between World War I and World War II. She decided to purchase a loaf of bread and so she entered the bakery and, taking an armload of money, left the basket on the stoop. When she returned, she discovered that someone had dumped out the money and taken the basket because the basket was worth more than the money. You see, at that time in Germany, the exchange rate was 4.1 billion marks to the dollar. Now that's a bad economy.
You can obviously see the great importance of this story. I implore you to share it with everyone you know. Enrich their lives with this story as I have enriched yours and how our hero, Mr. Kurht, has enriched mine. Go now! Spread the word!

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Am I Really Supposed To Put That In My Eye?

I've sadly already become somewhat lackadaisical about posting and whole-heartedly apologize. It's sadly going to set the launch of this blog back unless I get my act together. I must argue though that not much of interest has happened since the last post and I'll be damned if there's any filler. Nonetheless, I am still culpable as if I went out in search of adventure then I wouldn't be complaining about the idleness of my days. Moving on...

I saw Batman Begins on the Wednesday it was released (not to mention two other times after that and counting) and enjoyed it immensely. It had alot of the mythos down and played the character straight, as he should be played. A couple minor quibbles were the finding of the killer (he was never found in current continuity), Jim Gordon being a longtime member of the GCPD (he came in from Chicago around the same time Bruce Wayne returned from his training in the comics), and a lack of Harvey Dent. Those don't really reflect poorly on the movie though, they really just show how much of a nerd I am. See the movie now (and if you don't want to go alone, call me. I'll more'n likely be in.)

Continuing on to a subject where I'm on more shakey (but less nerdy) ground, I procured my first set of contact lenses yesterday. No big deal for most people, but unfortunately, when anything comes within in a seventeen foot radius of my eyes, I immediately dive to the nearest corner and huddle in a fetal position, sucking my thumb and covering my eyes. The slightest breeze has been known to cause this before. Fulling knowing this fact, why I went for contacts is beyond me as well as the numerous assistants at the optimetrist's office who tried to aid me in my battle against my inner-school girl. It started with one assistant taking me back to a darkened room and attempting to put them in. It wasn't going to happen. In my defense, she had long fingernails that bordered upon being classified as talons. My brother, who witnessed the ordeal, told me he was impressed by how quickly I curled myself into a ball and found the furthest end of the chair. When it was discovered that I would let no mortal hands near my eyes, it was decided that I should put them in myself. I was taken back out to the front of the office, which doubles as a glasses store and waiting room so I "could put them on in the light." In reality, I think the assistant really just wanted me to suffer through this in the presence of others as I think she was miffed that I didn't trust her cornia-piercing, cuticle-covered daggers with the safety of my window to the world. When I say I think she was miffed, I mean that I know she was, as she promptly deserted me after escorting me to a table and promptly turning tail, leaving me with no clue how to put these little pieces of whoknowswhat into my eyes. Luckily, another assistant came to my rescue and she had the compassion and patience of a saint (when she passes, which is hopefully a long way off, I'll be petitioning to have her canonized). After twenty minutes, half a bottle of solution, and more encouragement than a self-help books, I finally got one in. All it took was for her to grab my top eyelash while I restrained the bottom and while staring at the Blue Meanie on my brother's shirt, slide the little bugger in. The second one came in a lightning fast ten minutes and only several decades of the Rosary. After completing such a bold and daring task, I as ushered back into the dark room where I couldn't gloat to all of the bystanders who had witness my conquering of the contacts. After the exam, the doctor gave me to the ok to leave only to quickly retract his blessing as he realized that I had not yet been instructed on how to remove the contacts. That's right, it turns out you have to take the stupid things off on a daily basis. Heartbroken, I was taken back to my table where a third assistant (the second passed out, bless her heart) taught me how to remove the contacts. She too possesed great patience and knowledge of the contact and I soon (by soon I mean a fortnight) learned how to remove my contacts and was sent on my way. The rest of the day was enjoyable but as it came to a close, I began to dread what was to come. I knew I would have to remove my contacts without the help of the saints of optometry. On my own, the removal of contacts seemed much harder than when Nicole (the third assistant gave me her name and when given a name, I use it) held my hand through it. The good news was that it only took till the crack of down and I retained my right eye.

Today was my mom's birthday, so we celebrated with by making her breakfast, taking her to the beach, out to dinner, etc. It was a nice day and I hope she enjoyed it. So if anyone didn't get a hold of me today, you now understand why you couldn't. I would apologize, but I'm not sorry (unless you happen to be a supermodel and/or accomplished musician of the opposite sex, then you receive my most sincere and lugubrious of apologies).

As a sidenote, I recommend Anna Nalick and her album Wreck of the Day to anyone and everyone. It's mellow and nuanced with great lyrics and Nalick has a beautiful voice.

Well, that's all I gots for now. This one's for Benny, who's bored out of his mind. I hope this eases your pain.

Monday, June 13, 2005

What's Worse Than a Male Chauvanist Pig?

Are you tired of chicks tearing down men all they want with no represcussions? Are you sick of biting your tongue when you hear them b#$%ing and moaning about how evil and inconsiderate we are? If so, read on, for below are jokes to be used in such a situation. It's time to take the world back, one dike at a time.

  • Why don't women have drivers licenses? There's no road between the bedroom and the kitchen!
  • God told Adam " I could create you a partner that will always adore you, serve you, never be angry and treat you as a King, the only problem is that you must give up an arn or an leg for it." Adam "No way - what can I get for a rib!"
  • The perfect man and the perfect woman are driving down the road and see Santa Clause hitchhiking the decide to pick him up. They are driving down the road when a semi cuts them off. In a brutal accident all die except for one person. Who survived? The man, because just like santa clause the perfect women doesnt exist.
  • Three women are standing on one side of a river. A magic genie is there to help them across, and can grant each woman one wish. The first one says, "Genie, make me one thousand times smarter." The genie grants her her wish and she then takes off her shoes and swims across. The second woman says, "Genie, make me a million times smarter." After the wishes is granted she takes some wood, makes a boat, and rows across the river. The last woman says "Genie, make me a billion times smarter." The genie grants her wish and she turns into a man and walks across the bridge.
  • Why was knitting invented? To give women something to think about while they're talking.
  • How many lesbian vegetarians does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Three; one to screw it in and two to write a folk song about it.
  • How many men does it take to change a light bulb? None - she can cook in the dark.
  • Why'd the woman cross the road? Who cares? Why was she out of the kitchen?
  • What's the best way to fix the dish washer? Slap her
  • How do you turn your dishwasher into a snowblower?? Slap her on the rear and hand her a shovel.
  • Why don't women need watches? There's a clock on the stove.
  • What's strong enough for a man, but made for a woman? A back hand.
  • Have you heard about the new divorced Barbie doll? It comes with all Ken's stuff!
  • Whats worse than a male chauvanist pig? A woman who doesn't know her f#$%ing place!
  • Why was the shopping cart invented? To teach women to walk on their hind legs!
  • A man is walking along the beach when God comes down and offers him one wish. The man thinks for a moment and says, "I would love for you to build a bridge from Califonia to Hawaii so whenever I want to visit, I can drive on over." God responds by telling the man, "Do you know how many of the worlds resources I would have to use to build a bridge of that magnitude? All the steel and's next to impossible, even for me. Do you have another wish?" The man thinks for a moment and says, "You know, I really would like to be able to understand my wife more. Her emotions, her feelings, what she is thinking..." God looks puzzled then asks the man, "So, you want that bridge to be four lanes or six?"
  • Why haven't any women gone to the moon? It dosen't need cleaning yet.
  • A guy with a black eye boards his plane bound for Pittsburgh and sits down in his seat. He immediately notices that the guy next to him also has a black eye. He says to him, "Hey this is a coincidence: we both have black eyes. Mind if I ask how you got yours?" So the guy tells him: "Well, it just happened. It was a tongue twister accident, sort of. See, I was at the ticket counter and this gorgeous blonde with the biggest breasts in the world was there. So, instead of saying: I'd like a ticket to Pittsburgh, I said: I'd like a picket to Tittsburgh. So she socked me one." The first guy responded, "Mine was a tongue twister too. I was at the breakfast table and I wanted to say to my wife: Please pour me a bowl of Corn Flakes, but I accidentally said: You ruined my life, you lousy b#$%.''
  • What do you tell a woman with two black eyes? Nothing, you done told her twice already.
  • Why are women so bad at poker? Cause they're stupid

Learn to Love the Sasquatch

Tonight was a momentous night, as I witnessed cinematic genius unfold before my very eyes. For on this night, we watched Sasquatch Hunters. I can’t really say much more than “See it now!” as the plot is very intricate and telling anything could possibly ruin an experience that will not only enrich your life, but also make you a better person. Unfortunately, not all people are as enlightened.

As of late, I fear I haven’t done anything terribly of note (I know some of you will say, “Well the fight with the old lady is something I’d call ‘of note,’” but listen, she started it and I’ll be damned if let some putrid old bag cut me in line at Dillard’s) so I’ve decided to recommend several albums that have come out recently for summer listening.

The first album on the list has to be Rebel, Sweetheart by the Wallflowers. It’s lyrically and musically deep without being overproduced. Like previous Wallflowers offers, it has some dark overtones but they never get in the way or drag the listener down. A solid offering that has repeated listening written all over it.

The next album I’d recommend is Ben Folds’ latest release, Songs For Silverman. This album is Ben Folds being Ben Folds, so if you don’t like his previous work (if that’s possible), you probably won’t find much here. On the other hand, fans (non-evil people who have taste) will love this album. Folds and his band cut the album live, giving it a fresh and energetic feel, especially during the solos. All in all, it’s a great album that was worth the 5-year wait.

Moving on, I come to Jack Johnson’s soundtrack of the summer, In Between Dreams. If you need an album to lounge out at the beach and listen to, this is it. It’s mellow, unobtrusive and beautiful. Buy it now.
Well, those are all the albums that have come out so far that I feel are worth a listen. I’m probably missing some and I’ll either throw them in another post or I’ll purposefully never mention them just to be aggravating. On an unrelated note, I discovered today that the classic Nickelodeon show Pete and Pete has found its way to DVD. Not only does this excite me because Pete and Pete was a great show but because it implies that other classic Nick shows could be coming to DVD soon. I’m not ashamed to admit I’d crawl a mile naked through broken shards of glass to get a copy of Doug on DVD. In fact, I’d be ashamed if I wasn’t willing to do that for such an integral piece of my childhood. Without Doug teaching me lessons of morality and the fun in chasing the platonic woman, I’d probably be face down in a ditch somewhere or going down in a hail of gunfire in a talent show gone horribly awry.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Things We've Learned

Early in May, Brummitt and I ventured to Boca Raton to see a Kelly Clarkson concert. We decided that it would be a good idea to write down everything we had learned and when the trip was finished, found we had quite an extensive list with many valuable points which we feel must be shared with the world. So without further ado...
What We've Learned
A Children's Story
  • Avoid Exit 129 like the plague
  • Search harder for really small signs that delay you checking into your hotel by a half hour
  • People should dress their age
  • Orange shirts good, gray shirts bad
  • Use a large woman as a battering ram to get to the front of the stage
  • Don’t settle for conditioner
  • It’s not MTV’s fault, it’s negligent parenting
  • Bring earplugs for pre-concert music
  • Take the price tag off roses as it’s tacky
  • It’s virtually impossible to reinsert a rose
  • Boca Raton = Giant U-Turn
  • Boca Raton = Geriatric Ward
  • Boca McDonald’s = Blasphemy
  • Matching t-shirts get noticed but are creepy. Really creepy.
  • Double check and look further into directions
  • Exit 48B exists only when traveling north
  • Boca Raton is “too good” for Steak and Shake
  • Kelly Clarkson is a nice person in a non-fake (as in genuine) way.
  • Kelly Clarkson performs for an hour and 15 minutes.
  • Alcohol should not be served at a concert of an artist whose fan base is predominately fifteen and under
  • Mosh pits are as common as jackalopes at a Kelly Clarkson concert.
  • There’s no Subway on Exit 172
  • Exit 173 is a recommended stop.
  • On the whole, people are generally good
  • Driving a net total of over 12 hours, traveling over 600 miles, and spending over $300 was completely worth it.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Batbombs, BBs, Bone Saws, and Bands

I was dealt a devastating blow yesterday. After weeks of anticipation, it was revealed to me that Batman Begins won't be appearing at the World Golf Village IMAX theater. Not only does this depress me because I was greatly looking forward to see the Dark Knight dole out vigilante justice on an eight-story screen but I've hyped it to just about every I interact with, making me look like a fool and just incompetent in general. The good thing is that I was informed of this foolhardy move by the World Golf Village (curse you for all eternity!) when Jason and I were shooting my little brother's high powered BB gun. For all intents and purposes, the thing might as well be a rifle as it has a scope and can buy a BB several inches deep into a block of wood. It's the kind of BB gun that can shoot your eye out. Anyways, we were looking for a spot to shoot it and decided to look in an area that's currently being developed by Eagle Harbor. We found the perfect spot for our amazing display of sharpshooting. Unfortuneately, it was right next to the community pool. In our vast wisdom, we for some reason ignored this fact and carried on with our plan. The problem is that to people driving by, it looks like to shady gentlemen wielding a rifle right next to a pool. They could not have known our intentions and their concern was evident. Needless to say, we left quickly, but not before exacting the crime of the century. Ask me about it sometime.

Before embarking on our expedition, we made a stop to the Army surplus store, a place where you feign a southern accent for fear of retribution because of the northern victory in the Civil War. In this amazing store, we found loads of ridiculuous stuff, everything from bazookas to dutch ovens. After much careful consideration, I decided to purchase a throwing star. Any caped vigilante worth his salt has to be proficient with a throwing star. Jason, on the other hand, decided upon some wire saw, which is really quite sharp. If I can't be believed, then I can quote from the box, "Can cut wood, plastic, bone, and ice." Who the hell puts that on their box? Needless to say, the wire saw was quickly dubbed the bone saw and as of yet, the box's claim has not been proved. In conclusion, yesterday was an exciting day with its ups and its downs (curse you World Golf Village!).

Today, though not as odd, was a day of note as well. It started out typically enough, I went shopping with my mom, swam laps, read comics but then I got a call from my compatriot Ben, who urged me to join him in his quest to see Forever Changed at Murray Hill. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to join him. Though not my kind of music, I immensely enjoyed the show, find the band to be more than competent and to be a bunch of nice guys with a good message. Check out for more info.

Well that's it for now. Take it easy and remember to never, ever trust the World Golf Village, for it will crush your dreams.

PS- Proofreading's for women, so don't judge me!

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Hit The Ground Running

A couple of weeks ago (maybe a week even as I have no sense of time), I was vacationing with my family and some friends on the gulf coast. Our condo (I hate the sound of that word, it's just so ugly) faced a beautiful view of the water, and I found myself two feet away from a dolphin who seemed to be content making a group of people follow him as he swam from one side of the sound to the other. The dolphin was amazing sight to see but I feel like he dragged me out of the condo so I could see how amazing the sunset was as it spread so many subtle hues over the vast body of water before me. It was a life-affirming moment for me, the kind of moment where the big questions (you know, like "Why are we here? What should I do with my life? Why do they call it the funny bone?") didn't really matter. What mattered was that I was there, experiencing something so beautiful. Later, it occurred to me that I had a mini-epiphany. I wouldn't call it a full-on epiphany, so mini-epiphany works. That's when I began to realize that epiphanies don't actually work like they do in books and cinema (big surprise, right?). My conjecture is that there never is one big epiphany but just many little epiphanies that may or may not even be recognized as anything significant that are gathered through life. Slowly but surely, these puzzle pieces form a picture until there's only one piece missing. That final piece is the one that is usually recognized as the epiphany, but really it just the final step in a arduous and slow process. The problem is, it's much more convient to assume that it hit all at once and that event will forever be remembered as the epiphany. But what about the other pieces which were just as important in forming the picture but just had the misfortune of not being the final piece acquired? They are lost forever, cast in the shadow of that final piece, when they very well could have been more helpful than what came later. My fear of losing these other pieces is what has spurred me to start this diary/journal/place where I put down my thoughts and the reason you're reading this entry right now. And now that my intentions have been exposed, I shall retire until the next entry, leaving with a challenge to count how many times I said epiphany.