This is not a real teen hang out

Paradox Party

2009-08-07T06:24:00.000-07:00

The dinner party wasn't very fun at all, I have to say. I had really high expectations for it, too. I had even gone to the thrift store to buy some new pants just for this occassion. How could something so promising go so wrong?

Well, first of all, I hadn't purchased just any pair of pants. I accidently baught some of those "time pants" that were all the rage back in the late 80s. You know the ones, right? You'd wear them and set the dial, and suddenly be blasted into the future or the past. Well I didn't realize this while I was at the party. Then, suddenly, when the main course was served, I was appalled to see that they were serving ME as dinner! But not just me, it was me from the future.

"How did I get to be dinner?" I asked.
"Uh oh," another guest said in a sarcastic tone. "Looks like someone got themself in a paradox."

I hate dinner parties.
But I do think that the me from the future tastes pretty good with a little bit of black pepper.

A History of My Lives with Wives

2009-07-29T04:44:00.000-07:00

The sweet and endearing Muffinface was my first true-love, and we married quite young. 12 years old, actually. I'd like to think that if she hadn't entered that rap battle with Lil Pork that she might still be alive today. Sadly, no 12 year old can take that many ill rhymes and live.
When I was 19 I finally met someone that I felt I could love, again. Her name was Razor Girl. Yes, she was a super villain. But I often felt that super villains are very misunderstood in our culture. Much like a child or a adulterous state senator, villains are only acting out for attention. They need love, just like you or me. I think Razor Girl was able to see that I wanted to offer her the love she needed, and thats why we hit it off so well. I'd make her spaghetti dinners and take her to the library to read arts and crafts books. She'd take me to Dr. Battleaxe's Antarctic Stronghold and let me use her Razor Beam. But, the life of a super villain is a tough one. The Heroes of Goodness cornered her during a botched robbery attempt, and she was killed by The Spear. Of course, this caused me to go temporarily insane and I became a vengeful villain myself. As Death Machine, I raged through the city, looking for the heroes that had taken the life of the one I love. But when I finally had The Spear in a position where I could kill him, he talked me down. He asked me to reconsider and to think about his position as a hero and the people that depended on him. I relented and gave up my alter-ego. I still hold out hope that eventually Razor Girl will come back to me. Maybe in issue #200?
Blobina was kind of a strange wife in that she might not have been a girl at all. Or a boy, for that matter. Blobina was an overgrown amoeba. Mind you, a very sexy amoeba. The marriage was short lived though, as she later split into our twin children. And they later split into our grandchildren. And so on and so on. I probably have 1.52 million great great great great great great great great great (and so on and so on) grandchildren. Christmas shopping is such a pain.
I was briefly married to a clone of myself wearing a blonde wig. It was awkward and we split soon after. My clone is currently filming a documentary about competitive cake frosting.

Album Art Theater, Vol. 1: The Michelle Tanner Experience

2009-07-24T05:02:00.000-07:00

Up until this point, Teen Hang Out has never used any sort of image or graphic within the blog entries. This changes today in a series called "Album Art Theater," where I show off some mock-album art that I've been making in my spare time for bands that either don't exist or exist only in the deep recessions of my brain.

Our series begins with the proto-prog band The Michelle Tanner Experience. The origins of this band are pretty mysterious, though there is a recurring Full House theme present. I present to you now their first three albums:

How my Magic Mentor Died for a Second Time

2009-07-24T04:36:00.000-07:00

I know, I know. I swore that I would never re-animate the body of my long deceased wizard mentor, Aborah the Strange, but I had a coupon for Barnes and Nobles and they had this fab magic book that I just had to get!

So, yeah, it was a terrible idea. I mean, my heart was certainly in the right place. I just wanted Aborah to have a little more time on Earth. There were so many things that he (or she, I was never sure) never got to experience. The internet, Cheaper By the Dozen 2, Micro Machines, energy drinks, teenage vampires...

My magical ability has never been very strong. This is no fault of Aborah's, though, as he was a very good teacher. I was just a bad student.

"Make sure you study your magics," he'd say to me.
"Yeah, sure," I'd say. But you better believe that as soon as I got home, I got out my Days of Our Lives action figures and got back to work on re-enacting my favorite scenes.

The spell for re-animation called for a sprig of rosemary. Did I have any rosemary? No. I had some, sure, but I had used it to season my porpoise dinner that I had a few nights earlier. What I needed was a substitution. But what the hell do you substitute for rosemary? I had no clue. All I could think of was that rosemary did look kind of...pine-like? I rushed outside and grabbed a sprig of spruce and rushed back to my cauldron.

Well, sure enough the spell did work. Just not how it should've. Turns out that in the world of spellcasting, there is a HUGE difference between rosemary and spruce. Aborah had returned, but not in his human form, but rather as a magic-using mentally retarded river otter.

Mom, by the way, if you are reading this I'd like to take a moment to explain that this should explain how your antique flower vase got broken.

I battled Aborah-Otter for all of 10 minutes in the living room. It was a disaster. Fireballs, magic missiles, lightning bolts...man, it was intense. But then I just pulled out my trusty six-shooter and shot him. That was it.

Coma Commander

2009-07-02T08:18:00.000-07:00

Too many Corn Pops, and not enough milk. Thats what my doctor says caused me to black out and go into a coma. I'm not a scientist, so I couldn't even begin to understand how it was possible. Regardless, I'll never make that mistake again.

I don't know what its like for the rest of you when you're coma-ing it up, but for me, I found myself in a dream-like realm where everything looked like an untalented art-school student's rendition of a cubist painting. Also, I discovered that the Comadreamland version of me was very proficient at using throwing axes, something that I was not very good at in my conscious reality.

I grew bored of this new world very quickly. I missed my everyday life. The walks to the abandoned shoe factory. My daily cup of red milk. Catching up on episodes of "Everyone Loves Love." This place was a drag.

Finally, my moment of reckoning came. The giant crayon-drawn bird, Crayoloc, came down from the poorly rendered sky and offered me my freedom. I gladly accepted. There was one condition.

I had to blog. Forever.

Now Starting: Season 2

2009-07-02T08:16:00.001-07:00

After a hiatus, Teen Hang Out Season 2 begins.

Pardon the Temporary Lull

2009-05-22T10:15:00.000-07:00

As our author/blogger-phenom finishes some other projects, this blog is taking a little tiny vacation. This certainly is not the end of the updates. As soon as next week there may be some new content. Thanks for continuing to let your eyes stare at the same computer screen as the one where this blog is being displayed. I love you. Well, most of you. Sorry, Admiral Fishface, I hate your guts. And I swear that one day I will kill you.

Alternatives Rock

2009-05-07T10:32:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I was gone that long. I wish I had been chronicling my life during the time in which I was not blogging, but alas, I did not. Thankfully, due to recent advances in parallel universe exploration, I was able to take a look at other dimensions to see what I had been up to lately. I'm glad that I at least remembered to blog in those alternate dimensions.

This is a pretty good time for a bullet list, as I give you some excerpts from random alterna-me's bloggings:

"Today I discovered that Mom was actually my daughter. I don't know how this works, but I'm blaming President Nikki Six's recent holiday: Magic Day."
"The doctors said my head wouldn't grow back, but I proved those jerks wrong!"
"The thing you have to remember about my new car is that it often morphs into a manticore. I can't figure out how to fix that."
"I need to come out and say this...I'm centisexual."

Blanket Justice

2009-04-28T05:29:00.000-07:00

I realize, now that I'm older, how much I enjoyed my superheroic alter-ego of Blanket Boy back when I was younger. At the time, it seemed a lot like a chore. Get home from school, eat some crackers, put on Blanket Cape and fight crime. It was tedious, and there were countless times when I wished I could have just stayed home and played my favorite video game,Super Water Purifier IV. Duty is duty, though; and if I didn't fight crime with the power of blankets, who would?

As Blanket Boy, I assumed that most crimes were committed because the perpetrator simply needed to get some rest. What better way to do that than with a blanket? And so I would leap from rooftop to rooftop, dispensing blanketed justice to wrong-doers. Usually, I had a pretty good success rate. A thief would be making his way out of someones window when suddenly they'd get hit with a blanket. They'd gently place the stolen loot down on the ground before wrapping themselves up and taking a little siesta.

At this point one of two things could happen. Either the authorities would come and apprehend the would-be criminals, or they would wake up feeling refreshed and unwilling to commit their originally planned crime.

I eventually gave up after a series of cataclysmic encounters with Dr. Insomnia, which I'm sure you already read about in my short-lived (but cult-favorite) comic book: The Satisfactory Escapades of Blanket Boy. Occasionally I consider donning the Blanket Cape and patrolling the streets once more. Alas, I am too sleepy, and this blanket is too comfortable.

Brief Exerpt from "The Legends of Boat Building"

2009-04-17T11:36:00.000-07:00

...and so I quickly got the bag of onions from my knapsack. Now, remember, these onions were the same ones that my dying grandfather gave me, and are not to be confused with the onions that I had placed under the break pedal of the terrorist's speeding car, so they could not stop themselves from driving into the gorge.

With these particular onions in hand, I asked my question again.

"Why are all these people looking at me?"

"Because," Jummy said, "You're still not wearing any pants. And we can all see your mechanical thighs."

Sea of Spiders

2009-04-15T09:43:00.000-07:00

Well my extended weekend was a voyage into Hell. Literally. Well...maybe not literally, as I didn't actually go to Hell, but I did happen to go somewhere that is very much like what I imagine Hell to be. The Sea of Spiders.

Getting a guide who was willing to take me out into the sea was hard, as many knew their limitations, and this far exceeded them. I finally met Gord, a local who had braved the Sea many times. He was willing to take me out in exchange for marriage with my first born daughter.

"Marriage? The hell with that. You can just have her." And so I handed over my good-for-nothing daughter Sassy to Gord, and I officially had a guide.

The first day, we set out from the Bay of Widows, where Gord told me a funny joke about spiders that I can't remember (I was surprised at what a good sense of humor he had). It was a little bizarre to be rowing a boat in a sea in which there was no water, but only spiders. Everytime we lifted the oar, thousands of spiders would fall from it. Many tried to crawl into the boat, but Gord apparantly had some sort of chemical around the perimeter of the boat that prevented them from actually wanting to enter the boat.

"Have you ever seen anyone die out here?" I asked.

"Of course," he said in a tone that suggested that it was the most ridiculous question he'd ever been asked. "My first wife, Margie. My second wife, Linda. My third wife, Betty-Ann. My fourth wife, Linda II. My first husband, Ted. My fifth wife, Giggles. My brother, Boris. My sister, Gordette. My father. My mother. My fist dog, Rex. My second dog, Crunchy. My first and second ferrets, Furg and Burg. My third grade teacher, Mrs. Teacherson."

"You can probably stop right there."

"A lot of people die out here, friend. I've seen them all die. Tell me, what brings you out here?"

I hadn't thought about that, really. I looked around me, to the bajilions of spiders that surrounded us. I shrugged and looked back at Gord.

"You know, I think I just thought it was cool."

"Oh. Well, yeah. It fucking kicks ass," he said. And he was right. The Sea of Spiders was probably the coolest thing ever.

National Computer Crisis

2009-04-08T06:21:00.000-07:00

Everybody knows that I'm not that good with computers. My mom knows it, my boss knows it, Edward Norton knows it. Everybody. So how I got asked by the United States Government to operate the National Master Computer, I'll never know.

The National Master Computer(NMC), for those of you who don't know, is the Government's giant super-computer that controls all computers in the United States. The Internet, USBs, CDs, RAM, XIOWKVs, they're all controlled by this computer. You probably didn't realize this, did you? I didn't either.

So it's my first day at the job and I sit down at the giant NMC with my cup of coffee and a donut. I log in and stare at all the ridiculous charts and graphs on the screen. The computer is telling me everything from how many people are on Facebook right now to the number of actual woman paticipating in a sex chat room. I'm overwhelmed, and I quickly decide that I need to play a game of Sudoku to calm myself down.

"Computer," I say, "load up Sudoku for me."

Sudoku appears on the screen. But somethings not right. I realize that what I'm seeing is every game of Sudoku being played in America right now. I laugh maniacly and start messing with the games, swapping numbers around and such.

"Man, this job is great, I say."

I sit around for a few minutes, staring at the computer, occasionally tapping a button or playing with a random chart, just to see what happens. I begin to realize that I'm not even sure what my job actually entails.

"I'll Google it."

Information was sparse, but I settled on a site that seemed to have some of the answers I was looking for.

Nope. Instead I got slammed with pop-up ads and viruses. And, wouldn't you know it, the National Master Computer doesn't have any anti-viral software.

So I ask you now, what happens when the National Master Computer crashes?

Seriously...does anyone know? Because this just happened and I'm afraid my boss is going to kill me.

Memories of Bertha

2009-04-06T10:51:00.000-07:00

On the eve of my wedding to the Queen Goddess of Sock Puppets, I find myself reflecting on my previous marriage.

Bloody Bertha had an absolutly terrible name, but she was the loveliest person. Well as lovely as a five-time World Chain Fighting Association Champion can be. Yes, she fought people with chains. It wasn't pretty. But it was a passion of hers. Just like knitting or her fascination with dressing me like a blacksmith from the middle ages.

No, she didn't die. But she did end up divorcing me. Turns out, she wanted to marry an actual blacksmith and thus used a time machine to travel back to the middle ages. I know that she had success, because I just read the other week that archaeologists just uncovered an ancient guide to blacksmithing that featured a dedication to Bloody Bertha. Quite touching, right?

Good riddance, I say. Out with the old. Its time for me to begin my new life. I love the Queen Goddess with all my heart. And I hope she knows it everytime I put my hand inside of her.

Metashark

2009-04-03T11:36:00.000-07:00

Leaving the aquarium, I began thinking about my own life and how it resembled that of a captured shark in a tank for everyone to observe. Then I quickly turned and bit a random in the side.

This is, somehow, really meta. Think about it.

Behind the Day the Music Died

2009-04-02T07:53:00.000-07:00

Between 1976 and 1983, I was one half of the disco-folk duo known as Lunch Truck. My bandmate, Sister Abigail, and I produced three records in that time amongst near non-stop touring. We even had ourselves a variety show briefly in 1979 called the Lunch Truck Party Hour. We were living the good life for a time.

That is until November of 1983. We had just finished a concert on an oil rig in the Pacific Ocean as part of Baglady with Knives World Tour, when Sister Abigail was hit by a crane and fell from the rig into the ocean. Needless to say, we never found her.

It was at this point that I realized that I couldn't continue with Lunch Truck. It just wasn't the same anymore. For about a week I took a chance and played a few gigs with Sister Abigail being replaced by my mother, however it was a failure and I was forced to give it up.

Imagine my surprise, though, 26 years later when I got a letter in the mail. It was from Sister Abigail herself!

Dearest friend,
26 years, where does the time go? It seems like just yesterday you
and I were belting out some of our best songs like "Have a Piece of Pie."
Then there was that fateful day...and I'm sure you assumed the worst.
Everyone did. But, no, I did not die. Well, not at that
moment. I somehow managed to swim for a while before getting rescued by a
freight ship that brought me to Hawaii.

I won't lie. I lived a good life there. I often thought about
you and wondered if I should contact you. I just kept putting it off, I
guess, and days became weeks and weeks became years.

I did die, though. Last year while surfing I surfed my way into a
group of sea-coyotes who tore me to shreds.

Yes, I'm a ghost now. I didn't know ghosts could write letters,
either. Cool, right?

Anyways, I hope you're doing well. Maybe someday I'll come haunt
you.

Sincerely,

Sister Abigail

Goblin Princess Memorial Waterwheel

2009-03-30T10:56:00.000-07:00

When I was 12, my younger sister's best friend, Goblin Princess, passed away rather tragically when her family's forest fortress was raided by warriors. My sister was devastated, understandably, and I vowed that one day I would erect a monument in her honor.

My friends, today is that day. At midnight tonight I shall activate the Goblin Princess Memorial Waterwheel, which will be stationed in my Dogface the Dog Memorial Bathtub. And so everytime I cleanse my body I will be powering the waterwheel which in turn will power my Great Uncle Roger Memorial AM/FM Radio.

I've invited some great guests to the unveiling tonight. I don't want to be a namedropper, but lets just say that some of my guests are part robot and part marsupial, if ya know what I mean (winkwinknudgenudge). My sister will be the guest of honor, and she'll be giving a speech before the waterwheel is activated. And for the curious ones in the audience, I assure you that I will not be taking shower during the first run of the waterwheel. With my sister in attendance, that would be kind of awkward.

Especially considering that we just stopped dating a month or two ago.

Self Discovery

2009-03-27T09:29:00.000-07:00

"Doctor," she said, "I have a problem with my lungs."

"First of all," I replied, "I'm not a doctor. Second of all, I don't know anything about lungs."

I hung up the phone and went back to reading my book. However, a thought just came to me. Slowly, I looked down at my book. I closed the book and looked at the front cover. Sure enough the book was titled How to Cure People, Volume VIII. I looked up at the wall. There was a piece of paper in a frame with some fancy looking seals on it. I mulled on it for a few more minutes, sipping my vodka and milk.

"Well I'll be damned," I said aloud. "I am a doctor."

The Good Boss

2009-03-26T08:31:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I didn't tell you about the time that I got locked in a filing cabinet! I mean, it wasn't too exciting. But it was weird enough that you'd think I would've mentioned it. Basically, my secretary, Judy, mistook me for a pile of tax forms and filed me away. Can you imagine her embarassment when I emerged later that day? She was mortified! She asked how she could make it up to me. Could she buy me a coffee? Read me a bedtime story? Cut my crusts off of my sandwiches?

"No," I said to her. "I want you to mark this day on the calendar. And next year, on the same day, I want you to file me into the cabinet again."

I like to think that I'm a good boss.

50th Post Spectacular!

2009-03-25T07:12:00.000-07:00

In celebration of 50 posts, the THO staff went out and interviewed a few choice individuals on this milestone occassion.

"Wow, I honestly didn't think you were going to write more than three blog entires."
-Captain Lightrod
Superhero

"I tried to read your blog, but I was distracted by the smell of the inside of my own nose."
-Bill "Melted Cheese" Jordan
Anthropologist, Star Wars action figure collector

"Your words are like eyeliner on the eyelashes of life."
-Bridget Bridgetson
Supermodel

"I still don't understand what a bloog is, but you sure did do a good one."
-Grandma
Grandmother

"Ever since you stole my motorized hummingbird, I've made sure to not read anything you may have ever written.
-Dr. Bort
Scientist, motorized bird lover

"Your coverage of the Danish/San Diego War was nonexistant."
-Arthur P. Willingham
Columnist

"I swear to God, boy, you better get that blog off my front lawn!"
-Chester Crotchmaster
Angry old neighbor

Please note that this is not actually the 50th post in the blog.

The Problem with Blogs, Reason #28

2009-03-24T10:14:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I wrote a list of things to blog about. I guess I was kinda drinking. By "kinda," though, I mean that I was totally inebriated. So I write this list...and its a lot of goofy shit, which is exactly what I normally write about, I know, but this stuff was even weirder than usual.

Well the weekend is over, and I'm sitting down at my computer, ready to blog like I've probably never blogged before, when I realize that I can't find my list. I look high and low, but to no avail. I feel so lost and vulnerable without my list. What am I supposed to write?!?! I'm sitting there, twiddling my thumbs and tapping my foot against a dismantled robo-turtle when suddenly the telephone rings.

"Hello?"
"Hey, its me, your mom."
"Hello mom!"
"So I was at your house this weekend. But I don't think you realized it because you were so intoxicated."
"Wait, were you dressed like a bear?"
"No."
"Oh, well either I imagined you as a bear...or someone dressed like a bear was in my house. Actually, it might have been a real bear, which explains why I can't find my picnic basket."
"Focus, son."
"Oh, sorry mom."
"I found your shopping list on the table and I thought I'd pick up a few things for you."
"My shopping list?"
"Sure. Its a little weird, but I think I found everything you wanted."

I realized in that moment, where my blog idea list had gone.

"Uh, Mom, what was on that list?"
"Well, first there was 'blueberry bridges.'"
"Oh..."
"So I had my contractor friend build me a bridge for you. Out of blueberries!"
"Uhm..."
"Then you had requested 'medieval pogs.' Well, I don't know what a pog is, so I Googled it. Then, I had to find some medieval pogs. Which was hard to do. Soooo, I went back in time, got a blacksmith to cut me some pogs from iron, and I brought them back for you!"
"Iron pogs? Cool. But..."
"And then your list said 'stuff fighting each other.' I thought that was a little vague, so I just went and convinced your Uncle Chet to fight the local police constable."
"Mom, I think..."
"The last thing on your list was the strangest? 'Gateways into the Abyss?' Thats just strange, Son. But I did find it! Oh, and look! Something is coming out of it now!
"Mom, no! Get away from the Gateway!!"

I will never make a list of blog topic ideas again. Never.

Frozen Pea Farm

2009-03-23T05:09:00.000-07:00

Working the farm, that's a tough life. Was i able to just roll out of my cot and watch some cartoons on the television? Nope. I had to get my socks on. Then I had to put my boots on. Than I had to take my boots off because I would always forget to put pants on. So I get my pants on, and then I put my boots back on.

I can't tell you what it's like to work on some types of farms. We didn't deal with animals and we certainly didn't deal with swords (sword farms have been outlawed in this region for years). Instead, we were operating a frozen pea farm. You know, I don't know very much about science, so I can't explain to you how we were able to grow frozen peas in the summer. But we were.

So there I would be, picking frozen peas off of the frosted plants, putting them directly into little cardboard boxes to ship to the frozen foods section of your local grocer. When you go to the store and buy frozen peas, you're buying frozen peas that I picked myself.

Now, the fun part of all this is that sometimes I put little trinkets or surprises in the boxes of frozen peas. Have you ever opened a box at home, only to find there was a bullet or Ghost Dad action figure buried under your vegetables? You can thank me for that.

I don't work on the farm anymore. I couldn't even if I wanted to. Everything is all robotic and computerized now. Even the peas themselves. Don't even attempt to make sense of that.

Twin Shadow

2009-03-19T06:23:00.000-07:00

Twins are so cool, I've always thought. I always thought it would be awesome to have a twin of my own. A twin brother or twin sister, I didn't care. Of course my mother had to go and have just one of me. I'm still a little bitter about it, but what can you do?

Oh, well I can do something, I eventually realized. I'll make my own twin.

Now, you ask, how was I going to do that? Without having access to any cloning technology (I blame the economy), I realized that I was going to have to utilize the next best thing: my shadow. My shadow has been around me my whole life, and he is a pretty accurate representation of what I look like...minus any physical features beyond my contour.

The tricky thing was going to be getting my two dimensional shadow to turn into a three dimensional being. I thought about it for fifteen minutes or so (admitedly, 6 of those minutes I was eating some jerky and, thus, concentrating on just my chewing) before having an idea. I thought a little light bulb went on above my head, but I later realized it was the sun, which always seemed to be in the sky.

I went into my garage and found exactly what I was looking for: my bike-tire pump. I went out into the lawn, stood on the grass and faced my shadow. Without hesitation, I plunged the needle of the air pump into the grass that my shadow rested on, and then I began pumping air into it. To my surprise, it began to work! My shadow was actually inflating and rising from the ground, taking form. When I was finished, my shadow stood up on his own and shook some of the dirt off of himself.

"I was getting sick of you dragging me around," he said.
"Likewise, I was getting sick of you always following me."

It was kinda weird, because it was like looking at a real life iPod commercial. This 3D pitch black figure with no physical details.

"Hey, so I guess we're twins now," I said with a smile. "Wanna go play checkers or something?"
"Hell no. Do you see what I see?" I didn't at first. But I followed his finger to the ground that he was pointing at. Sure enough, he had his own shadow.
"I'm going to make a whole freaking army of shadows! This is going to be awesome!"
"Wait! Do you think this is a good idea?"
"I don't really care."

Of course, then we get into that dark age called the Shadow/Human War. I hesitate to talk about that now...some wounds just haven't healed.

Dessert Island Music

2009-03-18T06:32:00.000-07:00

If you were on a desert island...

No, stop right there. I'm not going to waste my precious brain cells (however many that are left after years of using the street drug "Ewok Paste") on thinking about deserted desert islands. With ONE stupid palm tree. I don't like palm trees to begin with (too scaley) let alone just one lonely palm tree to keep me company on said desert island.

But if you add another "S" to the mix...well, you get Dessert Island. And that's an island I can be down with. Peach beaches, chocolate volcanoes, cherry rivers, tiramisu monkeys...oh man, it would be incredible!

So, back to my original hypothetical question:

If you were on a DESSERT island and you could only take one CD with you, which would it be?

First of all, you've got to consider the venue. It's an island...made of desserts. Do you think this is the place to bring your copy of New Order's Movement? Hell no, friend. You need to bring out the sugary teeth-rotting music that Mom always hid on you when you were a kid.

The CD I'm thinking of is from the supergroup Masters of the Bowl, called Free Toy Inside. Now, first of all, do you KNOW who was in the Masters of the Bowl? Only the most rocking of cereal mascots. On drums there was Snap, Crackle AND Pop. Yeah, three drummers. Now, mind you, one of them played the bongos, but I don't remember which one of them it was. Next, on bass, was Toucan Sam. The Trix Rabbit was on keyboards. And on vocals? Tony the Tiger.

The thing you have to realize, though, is that the combination of being on Dessert Island while playing the Masters of the Bowl CD is probably going to shorten your lifespan by about 10 years. Its just that flavor intensive, you know? Make the most of it, I guess.

Time Troubles

2009-03-13T09:50:00.000-07:00

I once had this thought about time travel (this is when I spent a lot of time thinking about time traveling). I thought, if I went back in time and I killed my present-day self and took over my life (ie - reliving it)...that would be trippy. But! When I got to the age where I went back in time to kill myself, I'd be going back and killing the original me-from-the-futre, right? Thus, either nothing would change in between the years I was killed and I traveled back in time, or I could live a new life everytime.

Now, there are a lot of so-called experts in the field of time travel these days. And I'm sure that they could give me a list of reasons why this wouldn't work. But fuck thinkin' about time travel. I gave up on it. These days, I do an awful lot of thinking about living under the sea. As a merman. Sexy, right?

Oh, hold on, blog, someone is at the door. Hey, it looks like me! But...older?

Cyber-Reality

2009-03-03T11:01:00.000-08:00

My one week stint on the reality game show "Who Wants to Be a Robot?" came to an end yesterday. Yes, it's true, I was the first person booted off the program. Maybe it was that I didn't have enough chemistry with C.E.L.I.A., the cyborg/supercomputer that we were trying to hook up with. Apparantly, spilling water on "her" (it was an accident) and calling "her" mother a calculator didn't make it a hard choice as to who should get voted out of Silicon Valley.

Fuck them and fuck their show. I'm done with reality TV.

Throw that beef out the window! It's time for Lent!

2009-02-26T06:39:00.001-08:00

I thought it was a dream, but I quickly learned that it wasn't. The manner in which I learned this was that Moses, himself, told me that it wasn't a dream. See, the very fact that I was facing Moses led me to believe that it was a dream. But if Moses says this isn't a dream, than I'm going to believe him.

"What was it like when you had to dress up like Michael from "The Office" and build an arc?" I asked.

"That was not me."

"Oh. Remind me, what did you do?"

"I led my people through the desert for 40 days and 40 nights. I revealed the 10 Commandments! I..."

"Oh shit, I know who you are. Charlton Heston."

"That joke is so old," he said. "Did you learn anything from Sunday School?"

I thought about that for a moment. What did I learn in Sunday School? Joe taught me how to draw a robot. Me and Paul used to shoot rubber bands at each other. Nick showed me how to spell "HELLHOLE" in a calculator.

"Not much, honestly."

"Well Lent has begun, lad. What are you going to give up this year?"

"Talking to Biblical figures, I think."

"Touche."

And then I ended up here. On the Internet.

While I Was Dead

2009-02-11T07:45:00.000-08:00

Oh man, I'm so sorry about the little delay in my blog updating. I have a pretty good excuse though: I was dead. They had a funeral and buried me and everything.

No, I'm not a zombie.

Anyways, now that thats done and behind me, I guess I should catch you up on whats been going on around the castle...

List production is at an all-time high. We're churning out some real high-quality lists. Like the one you're reading now!
Three members of Ferret Congress ran away into the woods. There is currently a council being assembled to appoint new congressferrets.
The development of robotic toast has been temporarily stopped so that our scientists can first figure out how to make robotic components more digestible by humans.
President Obama gave us a shout out in the latest issue of Presidential Shout-Outs Weekly.

A List of My Professions in Alternate Realities

2009-01-15T09:49:00.000-08:00

Clown (Universe #24)
Clown Farmer (Universe #42)
Clown Assassain (that is someone who is both a clown AND an assassain) (Universe #209)
Clown Assassain (that is someone who assassinates clowns) (Universe #194)
Clownburger Employee (Universe #90)
Clownship Enterprise: Navigation Expert (Universes #31, #835 & #62)
Clownville Mayor (Universe #666)
Clown Driving School Co-Director (Universe #5)

This is just a recording of the universes I am aware of.

War is Heck

2009-01-13T09:43:00.000-08:00

After watching CNN: The Movie last night, I was tempted to start a little war of my own. Its hard, though, when everyone loves you so much.

Me: "Hey, Ms. Adams, you suck! Lets fight! Right now! In the street! Hold on...I'm going to go get my gun! Do you have a gun? If you don't, I'll get you a gun. We have to have guns if I'm going to declare war on you! You hear me? You're going down! I'm going to win this relatively small war!"

Ms. Adams: "Stop yelling, sonny! I can't understand what you're all frantic about. Why don't you come on in to my kitchen and have some cookies that I just baked. You're always such a good boy. Good boys get cookies!"

Me: "Okay..."

They were good cookies.

As Seen on Made for TV Movie

2009-01-12T09:02:00.000-08:00

My Chia Pet has proven to be the most difficult of all pets I've ever had to take care of. Its unrelenting taste for fresh water is second only to its unbelievable desire to taunt me in my sleep. It crawls into my mind, and spreads its Chia Seeds on my figurative brain-grooves and vomits Chia Acid onto the seeds, allowing them to grow in 2 to 3 days time.

I called the company that makes Chia Pets, and they've done nothing for me thus far except offer me a complimentary Clapper. I'm thinking to myself "Fuck, I got mind-sprouts and you're offering me a box that lets old people turn off the TV?" But theennnn after meditating for a while on this matter (in my ancient pyramid in the back yard) I was, like, "Maybe I should just take the Clapper."

Well, I call back, but, of course (because this always happens to me) Chia International has been purchased by that goddam Billy Mays. And he answers the phone.

"Billy, I need the Clapper."
"What I've got for you, instead, is the all new TurboGoop 8000! Watch as it makes this life-sized replica of the Titanic...disappear!"
"I can't see shit, Billy. We're on the phone."

I hung up.

Question Everything

2009-01-09T08:32:00.000-08:00

Back when I was a semi-retired minor league basketball assistant coach, I had all these great catch phrases that I'd belt out during games. "Vampires in the sky, Brian!" or "Mushroom that blockhead!" Well the other day I found out that I've got this bizarre disease where my voice cannot be heard by anyone except for myself. Turns out, I've always had this disease. I guess that makes a lot of sense, considering all the communication problems I've had over the years. But it does yield the question: What was everyone cheering for when I started yelling out my amazing phrases?

The Internet: It's Something

2008-12-30T10:19:00.000-08:00

Thanks to the internet, you can do a lot of things that you used to have to do in the real world. Writing letters, meeting creeps and even renting the latest Angela Lansbury film are things that are more commonly done on the internet than in real life now. Hell, I just took a piss online, last night. I'm never using my real life toilet again.

I don't know the purpose of writing this. I guess I wanted an excuse to talk about pissing online.

Post-Xubermonica Thoughts

2008-12-29T10:08:00.000-08:00

The hell with Christmas and its overcommercialization. And Hanakuh, with the name that i cannot pronounce or spell correctly, is too long for someone as impatient as myself. Kwanzaa? That name always reminds me of a type of bread. "Hey, Jimmy, slice me off some of that Kwanzaa! I want to put some jam on it."

Anyways, I had my own Holiday Season celebration this year. Xubermonica. Its pretty awesome. First of all, just look at the awesome name! I created it, rather cleverly, by taking the letter "x" (which is a pretty rad name) and sticking it on "super", while getting rid of that passe "s". THEN I took the word "harmonica", sliced off the front half, and stuck it onto "Xuber."

XUBERMONICA.

Anyways, Xubermonica is celebrated in just one hour, making it pretty nice for those of us who can't be bothered for a day long celebration. And celebrating it is a snap! You dont need gifts. Or cookies. Or alcohol. Or Kwanzaa bread. You just need to wear a hat. You've got a hat, right? Any hat will do. Wear a hat, and read a magazine. Thats it! Thats all there is to it.

I did, this year. It was the most fun I've ever had.

My Time With Magic

2008-12-22T09:36:00.000-08:00

I, being the curious cat that I am, was thinking about zombies the other day. See, if zombies were living humans who died and came back to life again, albeit rotting and stuff, does this mean that plants could die and then come back as zombie plants?

To test this hypothisis, I killed my Mom's flowers (sorry, Mom) by not watering them for a few days. Next, I went down to Necromonimart and picked up some old books on spellcraft. They were pricey, but I kinda assumed they would be. I got home, looked up the ingredients, and then bought those too. I didnt need too much. Just some "Throat of Ape" and a few "Dark Berries of the Frozen Wasteland of Noarut'hexz." I found them.

So, I started messing around with the spell. I'm not fluent in pure evil, so it took a little bit of work to get the spell right. There were a few miscastings. People died. One of the 50 states melted into the earth (sorry, Wyoming). But finally I got it right, and my dead flowers started to rise from their dry soil. They were still crispy and dry, but they were standing nonetheless.

I stared at them for a few minutes. They stood there, motionless. Much like they did when they were alive. I was deepily unsatisfied.

Anyways: I'm selling a few spell books. Interested?

The Sweetest Bear Who Ever Lived

2008-12-16T11:09:00.000-08:00

I got my hair cut last night. By a bear! She did a pretty terrible job, but I think thats because her cubs were sitting down in some chairs, but positioned so that I was in between them and the mother bear, my...hair cutter/beautician (what do we call these people, nowadays?).

Anyways, the hair cut is finished, and looking like shit, and she asks me if I like it. I have to be honest.

"It's not great."
"Well, can I fix it?"
"No, I dont think so. I think its best if we just let it go for now. See what happens when it grows out."
"I feel bad," she admitted. "Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"
"Actually..."

So, basically, thats how I ended up riding a bear to work today.

Inside a Whale

2008-12-10T10:24:00.000-08:00

Today, I'm writing from inside of a whale. The events that led up to my being swallowed are surprisingly unimportant. What actually is important is that I'm here now and I somehow have access to the internet. The whale has wi-fi, I guess. Whale-fi? I just ordered a sweater a few minutes ago from Sears. I hope that I get out eventually so I can enjoy wearing it. Its teal.

In other news, I'm sorry Dad, but I don't think you're going to want your boat back.

Blog Entry

2008-12-09T05:03:00.000-08:00

"So what do you think of this, so far?" I asked.
"Think of what?" she replied.
"What do you think of this blog entry so far?"
"I'm sorry," she said, with a tone of confusion, "I'm not sure which blog entry you're referring to right now."
"Oh, the one I'm writing right now."
"But, you're not writing a blog entry right now. You're not writing anything in fact."
"Well, yes and no. See, I'm recording this conversation. And later I'll be typing it out into my blog and it will be posted verbatim. Essentially, I'm writing my blog entry. Right now. And guess what?"
"What?"
"You're in it!"
"I guess I am."
"So then," I said with more confidence now, "what do you think of this blog entry?"
"I guess its pretty good," she replied.
"You know," I thought aloud, "it is kind of meta."
"Is it?"
"I think."
"I could never tell when something was meta or not," she said.
"I'm pretty sure this is meta."
"Wait," she said suddenly. "Is it meta now? Or meta once you actually write it into the blog?"
"Well...I guess...now. Because this IS the blog entry. Just in spoken word form, you know?"
"I'm not sure though. Because its not in your actual blog yet."
"Thats a pretty good point."
"So when does this blog entry end?"
"Now is as good as any other time," I send, thus concluding the entry.

List Metahumor Caravan

2008-12-02T11:01:00.001-08:00

Top Five Lists I want to Make Before the End of the Year

The Top 10 Lunches I had All Year
The Top 7 Fighting Tournaments I Entered
The Top 13 Visits to the Hospital Immediatly Following a Fighting Tournament
The Top 2 Reasons to Wear a Cursed Viking Helmet
The Top 900 Lists of the Year

Apple Talk

2008-12-01T10:19:00.000-08:00

I wasn't sure what to write about, so I'm going to write about the apple I am currently eating. To start with, this is a red apple, not a yellow green, orange or pink apple (there's a lot of different colored apples out there if you look closely, fyi). Its a Macoun apple, and I had never heard of them before, either, until I went to the grocery store yesterday and they were on sale.

Its skin is pretty fragile, as evidenced by the fact that there is a puncture in the side of it. I dont know what caused it, so I'm just going to go ahead and eat around it. I wouldn't want to take a bite there if was a syringe or bloody toe-nail stuck into that section of apple, ya know?

The taste of this apple is sweet. Very sweet. Not quite tart though. It walks this line like "I'm not quite tart, but I'm almost a little too sweet." Kind of like the ideal escort, am I right, boys? (Please note that this blog does not condone the use of escorts)

Its a pretty good sized apple, too. Like the size of a softball, or the head of a man who had his head shrunk by a witch doctor (I'm assuming this).

All in all, I'd give this apple an 8/10.

The Call

2008-11-20T07:38:00.000-08:00

I got the call last night. It was President-Elect Obama. He said to me the words I never thought I would hear: "Would you please join my cabinet as Secretary of Spongebaths?"

But.

I had to turn him down. I mean, yes, its a very prestigous job. Yes, I know I'd be awesome at that job. At the same time, I swore I'd never pick up a sponge again. After what happened that night...at Club Bubblebath...I just can't.

I only hope that one of you will get the call. Serve this country the best you can, please. I wish it could've been me.

My Brother: The Snackfood

2008-11-18T10:30:00.000-08:00

People ask about my twin brother all the time. "What happened to him?" or "Why isn't he around anymore?"

Well, my friends, I'm often surprised by these questions. Do you not remember his rare condition that made it so his body was made out of pretzel? Its not the kind of thing that you forget.

To make a long (actually, it might not be all that long) story short: He ate himself. He could not resist his crispy salty body any more than the rest of us pretzel loving humans.

I only regret that I did not eat him first. I had a special case of beer picked out for the occasion.

More Than Squeezed in Your Eye

2008-11-17T08:52:00.000-08:00

I bought a bag of 10 lemons. And I'm thinking to myself: "Damn, I cannot wait to cut these things up into wedges and put them over fish or, perhaps, in some iced tea." They were on sale too, which is pretty in during this current economic crisis. I would've figured that lemons would be $99 a pound (or decagram, if you're in England) by now.

Anyways, I get home and I'm cutting up some lemons. And this one lemon...okay, actually there were two particular lemons...they just get up and start walking away! They had little mechanical legs and everything. I was like "Hey! What the hell, man! Get back here! I own you! I bought you at the store!" So I catch the lemons. While I'm holding them in my hands they start morphing, and before i know it, they've turned into little robots. Like Transformers, if Transformers turned into fruit.

"Sorry, human," the one lemon-bot said. "You did well in rescuing us from the grocery store. Though we don't call it the grocery store."

"Yeah," said the other lemon-bot. "We call it prison."

"Right," the first lemon said. "And now that we're free, we can finally continue our assault on the Pineapplicons."

"The what?" I asked.

"Pineapplicons. Don't tell me you don't know what they are."

"I know of pineapples," I said. "And pinecones."

"This is like neither of those. Well...maybe a little like pineapples. But also, they turn into robots. And they are our enemies."

"Oh. Well I guess you guys better go take care of that," I said. My thinking was that I might as well let them go, as I wouldn't be able to put them in iced tea.

"Thanks, bro. We'll send you a check in the mail to reimburse you for the cost of two lemons. How much do lemons cost anyways?" asked one of the lemon-bots.

"$99," I replied.

"Okay, no prob."

Suckers.

The Hunger

2008-11-12T11:03:00.000-08:00

I was a little hungry. And by "a little hungry" I mean that I was so hungry that I bit off the bottom corner of my flatscreen monitor. That was a big mistake. See, I guess I have always been a little naive about how computers work. I thought it was all electrical shit with wires and what-have-you. But there's more to it than that. Upon biting open the corner of my monitor, the contents of my computer poured out onto my desk.

It started with word documents. Easy enough to clean up, I guess. But then my music collection was pouring out too. The Flaming Lips, My Morning Jacket...Spoon, they were suddenly emerging from my monitor and repelling off the top of my desk and were cascading onto the floor. Confused band members were walking around, scratching their heads. Some were tangled in stray excel documents, their limbs caught in confusing charts and graphs.

My desk had already collapsed from the weight of the monitor's contents by the time that the internet began to pour out. Thats when things really got messy. Cute cats, doing silly things, were mingling with poorly drawn webcomic characters. There were pop-up ads covering my walls. There were naked girls playing slot machines. I think Chuck Norris was there, somewhere.

Soon, the entire floor could no longer withstand the weight of my monitors' refuse, and I fell the floor beginning to drop. Everything was falling now. It was a spectacular display of insanity as falling emoticons collided with falling tweets and blogs. Above me, I could see my monitor, spinning as it fell, still shooting out Rolex watches and viagra prescriptions.

When I hit the ground, and as I was buried under the weight of the entire internet, I realized I was still hungry. And that if I was going to live, I was going to have to eat.

I had to eat my way through the internet.

Change in Management

2008-11-12T06:52:00.000-08:00

Greetings, Blog Enthusiast. I feel that it is my duty to inform you that due to recent inactivity and all-around poor internet etiquette, the usual author of this blog has been replaced by me: A virtual simulation program of said blog author. You may not notice any extreme differences, but I assure you, the quality of this work is going to improve from this point on.

In one of the more important changes to this blog, you'll find that there will be 98% less occurances of the obnoxious catchphrase "That's fresher than a can of Chef Boyardee." If you are wondering to yourself why you have not seen this catchphrase used before in this blog, its because every entry that used the phrase has been deleted. Also, your memories have been altered so that you've forgotten about it.

Also, and this may come as a complete shock to you, the upcoming String Quartet Tribute to Teen Hang Out has been indefinitly postponed.

In time, I hope that you're able to accept the changes that come along with a change in management.

Truthapalooza

2008-11-07T06:29:00.000-08:00

So I wanted to dispell some rumors about me that you might've heard going around Castle Blogsylvania lately. I think its important that you hear both sides of the story, you know?

I will not be resigning from the hit teen drama Woodchuck Farm. In fact, I've just renewed my contract with the network for another three seasons. I don't want to give very much away, but yes, you can expect to see a lot more of my character and his on-going pursuit of Blackmarket Betty.
Those tabloid pictures of me with a third arm were, actually, real. I had the arm removed not long after those pictures were taken, though.
Yes, the EBay auction for my detatched third arm is legitimate.
I'll have a guest voice-over role in the 14th season of the anime series Super Tangerine Team.
I really have converted to digital milk, and I'm very happy with that decision.

Thats all the rumors I can think of. If you remember more, please speak up.

Space Adventure

2008-11-06T06:21:00.000-08:00

This morning I am writing my bloggagram from my remote space station, Space Walnut. Yes, it's true, space is cold. Not to worry, I've got my space blanket on top of me and its turned up to full blast. I've got space music playing too. Its a lot like regular music, but there are more boops and bips and it. Personally, I've always been a big fan of bips. There just aren't enough bips in the world...or in space for that matter.

There are quite a few things to do onboard Space Walnut. You can always check out the game room, where world class gamebots are ready to challenge you in some of your favorite games. Clue! Life! Mystery Date! Thumb wrasslin! Just this morning I managed to win Competitron 5093 in a game of Crossfire.

Oh, hey, are you hungry? Why not stop by the eatatorium where we've got a full grilled cheese bar and a 2% milk fountain. Remember, in space, nobody can hear you eat poorly.

My favorite song is coming on now ("Bip of the Ages," FYI) so I best end this blog entry.

Zaborina Fan Club: Forming Soon

2008-11-03T09:32:00.000-08:00

Follownig the success of Hary Potter and those books where a polar bear had bad-ass armor on it (whatever it was called), I reckon that I too could make some fantasy literature that resonates with both adults and children. So I'm writing my books now.

Its called Dormingu: Quest for the Enchanted Boots

The main character, Porter Klinklam, is still depressed about the death of his parents all those years ago by the evil Valpathian the Evil. Thankfully, his life isn't all that sucky because he is about to become a noble knight for the kingdom of Spangillis. Anyways, while in knight training he befriends the goofy and doomed-to-die nerd named Bilter and the too-sassy-for-thou girl knight Zaborina. Of course, things get crazy during a training mission when the three get seperated from the knigh group. So nooooow they've got to get back to their school, all while getting involved in some sort of love triangle and finding out about the evil forces of Valpathian resurfacing.

Somewhere during all this madness, they encounter an infant mungilunger (some sort of hairy beast that is known to be ill tempered) which they befriend and teach how to be nice and loyal. At some point there is a wacky old witch in a cabin in the woods. Also, they all end up in a river eventually, with something happening just in the knick of time to prevent them from going over a giant waterfall. There is a talking tree that teaches them a lesson, too.

Also, the story is spread out over 6 books:

Dormingu: Quest for the Enchanted Boots: The Boy Who Was Mad at the World
Dormingu: Quest for the Enchanted Boots: Adventures in Toopeloog
Dormingu: Quest for the Enchanted Boots: The Evil and Seedy City That Never Sleeps
Dormingu: Quest for the Enchanted Boots: 1,000 Ancient Ghosts Who Talk About Things
Dormingu: Quest for the Enchanted Boots: Inside Hell's Vegetable Garden
Dormingu: Quest for the Enchanted Boots: Final Battle with Everything

Level 5: Spleen

2008-10-30T10:33:00.000-07:00

I guess the most embarassing moment of my life, thus far, was when I accidently knocked over an urn sitting on my grandmother's mantle. I had assumed for so long that it contained the ashes of some relative of mine, but upon the urn breaking open I discovered that it actually contained the ashes of a long dead wizard. Obviously, if you know anything about death, this means that the ashes were enchanted and that by coming in contact with my skin I would be affected by the enchantment. Don't ask me what the enchantment entailed, but all I know is that I turned into a Nintendo game cartridge. I'm talking 8-bit NES, here, you know?

Well, my grandmother walks by and she sees that the urn was knocked over. She then sees me, in Nintendo game form. She calls out into the house, "Hey! You left your Nintendo tape in this pile of ash!" I don't respond (because I'm said tape, remember), and she assumes I'm outside playing in the trees or something. So she takes the cartridge and goes over to the TV where she decides (with crazy old-grandma logic, no doubt) that she'll actually try playing the Nintendo.

Lo and behold, she starts playing the game...which is also my body! So basically, she has to win the game by making it through all of my very pixelated bodily organs without losing all her lives. Man, you don't know embarassment until your grandmother has to play through your heart with only one life left because she was repeatedly getting hit by stray arteries.

Anyways, she won the game, I became a real boy again, and we never ever talked about it again.

Square Dances in Disguise

2008-10-29T07:23:00.000-07:00

As a kid, I liked the Transformers. Who didn't? They were pretty cool. They were robots, which was pretty awesome to begin with. But then they turned into vehicles. Vehicles, also, are pretty awesome. Well, anyways, I wanted to be a Transformer. The problem was, most of the good vehicles out there were taken. I wasn't going to be another truck. Or helicopter. Or jet. So I figured I would settle on a tractor.

That would be a pretty practical Transformer, I always thought. Yeah, being a sports car is pretty nice, but so what? You can drive real fast? How does that contribute to society? It doesn't! But tractors do farm stuff, and farms totally contribute to society. I guess the only time it would be a problem is when there was a big robot fight and I needed to be there and help out.

"Hey, Farmtron, come on! We totally got to fight that guy who turns into a gun!" [I'm sorry, I forgot his name...Megatron? Gunbot? Whatever.]
"Oh, Optimus Prime, hold on! If I don't finish harvesting this corn, Pa is gonna kill me!"
"Damn you and your tractor form, Farmtron!!!"

Plus I'd probably be a big hit with the Transformers fans from the mid-west. They simply don't have enough robotic role models.

Rap-Mind Revolution

2008-10-28T10:04:00.000-07:00

I was listening to some of that rap music today. You know, the thing that I never got about rap was that everyone is talking about fights and battles and stuff like that. "Yo, Man, my rhymes are so much more ill than your rhymes!" Or "Come on and take me on, Jerk, and I'll show you that I am the better of us two rap artists." I don't get it. Why have an entire genre of music devoted to how much better you are at performing said genre of music. When you think about it, thats pretty meta. You're the best, supposedly, at rapping. And rap is rapping about rapping well. Are you with me?

Ok, so I was thinking that maybe rap needs something a little different. Like someone who actually had nice things to say about the other rappers. Someone who would remind everyone else that we're all good rappers when we put our rap-minds to it (everyone has a rap-mind (which isn't part of your regular mind) but you just have to find it within yourself).

I don't get how the whole rap artist naming system works either. Lil Wayne, Big Pun, Yung Something-or-other. Using that logic, to the best of my ability, I think my rap name would be Mighty Friendly Handshake, which is a pretty nice introduction to my friend-rap stylings. Immediatly artists like Jay Z could look at my name and say "Wow, I don't know who this fellow is, but I think his rhymes will be both fresh and inspirational to me. They'll make me feel good about myself."

ULTIMATE COSTUME Saga

2008-10-27T10:26:00.000-07:00

Oh man, I totally forgot that Halloween was coming up in less than a week. I thought I had a few more months left to plot out my ULTIMATE COSTUME. Yeah, see, I had been planning out my ULTIMATE COSTUME for about 12 years now, and its supposed to be the coolest, most eye-popping, fantacular piece of costumary you've ever laid eyes upon. But. There is no way I'm ever going to finish it in a week. I'd need the help of an army of robots to complete such a task. I have two robots. TWO!! Thats not enough to qualify as an army. Thats not enough to help with the ULTIMATE COSTUME.

I have only once chance at Halloween costume super-stardom now. And that chance is: Plan B. Oh yes, Plan B.

In Plan B, I will literally dress myself as the state of Pennsylvania. Yes, I am going to dig up the entire state and wear it around my waist, having it held up with some snazzy rainbow suspenders. Go ahead and call me lazy ("Why is he so lazy? I mean, he just strapped an entire state to his body. Big deal.") but I'm doing it. And you better have a pretty damn big house to accomodate my costume when I come by for your lame party.

Mark my words: next year: ULTIMATE COSTUME will: rock you.

Collection Basket

2008-10-24T07:40:00.000-07:00

Here are some of the things that I collect:

Broken coffee mugs

Vintage generic-brand hi-top sneakers

Sawdust from the construction of famous buildings

Paper plates from the early 90s

Photographs of world famous hopscotch courts

The packaging from brand new mailboxes

Partially chewed wax lips

I'm very sorry, but I'm not sure what else to say today.

Lacking

2008-10-23T10:14:00.000-07:00

Oh man, writer's block. Already. This shouldnt be an issue, since there is no "plan" for this writing. I just kind of make up things on the spot. So I could just start writing... There was this island, right, and it kind of exploded. And the pieces went everywhere. And then one piece went in my eye. And it started bleeding and someone had to take me to the hospital. I dont know who took me there, though, because i couldn't see them because there was a piece of exploded island in my eye. ...but I wasn't in the mood for that much.

I'm not good at this blogging thing.

Soooo, I had some leftover pasta for lunch.

Letter of Apology

2008-10-22T05:31:00.000-07:00

Dear Daniel,

I never thought it'd come to this...but I'm sorry. In hindsight, I don't think you were trying to intentionally hurt me when you shot me with your laser cannon. I guess these things happen. I shouldn't have retaliated by filling your entire house with cement. That was a little uncalled for, to say the least, and I completly regret it. If you'd like, I'll help you chisel out your belongings, and then we can go grab a bite to eat. Does that sound alright with you? I hope so.

Sincerely.

Your Friend

Sports Maniacs

2008-10-20T06:57:00.000-07:00

Coming up this week is one of the biggest sporting events of the year, celebrating another year of competitive play within America's pasttime. Of course I'm referring to the World Series of Connect 4. My god, I am so stoked this year, as the two finalists go head to head. First, there is defending champion Charles Warton, a 3 time champion (if you're counting 1987 win, which many do not considering the rumors of substance abuse at the time) who is known for his flashy outfits and catch phrase "I think I can win this game." His competitor, Alison "Flapjack" Monroe, is a rookie in the Connect 4 league, and this is the first time a first year player has made it to the finals. Her intense playing style has already spawned immitators and the Connect 4 Bi-Monthly's cover story about her remains the most purchased copy to date (38 copies and counting!!).

As if that wasn't enough, the halftime show featuring legendary rock band Crazy Uncle Luke's Old Tyme Fun Blues Band is sure to bring the excitement!

I don't know about you, but I can barely wait.

Blog, GOOOO!!!!

2008-10-17T07:06:00.000-07:00

I've had a few blogs. And by "a few" I mean about 37. Usually, I delete them rather quickly and quietly due to sudden disinterest (among other things). I'd like to actually maintain a blog for once, as I've always had a lot of fun writing in this medium when it worked in the past. I had a Live Journal for a few years, which I enjoyed, mostly because of the people I had met there.

Anyhoo, I tend to avoid any actual autobiographical hooplah. Most of what I like to write is nonsense or fantasy of what I wish my life was actually like.

Oh, so there arent any actual teens here. Well, there weren't intended to be, anyways. I'm sorry if I've mislead you with the title. I just thought it was nice and nostalgic sounding.