2012 and Other Boring Ways For the World to End.

2 03 2011

Compliments of Priscilla's sketch book. My wife draws murdering dinosaurs for fun- eat your heart out!

By now you’ve all heard about the ancient Mayan calendar that predicts that Jerry Bruckheimer’s movies will all be so bad by December of 2012 that even just seeing a billboard for one will kill you.  (Amazing information to glean from a calendar written by people who have been dead for over a millennium!)  But, maybe you haven’t heard about some of the other dumb ways people think our planet may plummet into a bizarre Mad Max sequel.  Solar flares.  These could come and wipe out all the electricity globally.  How about the super volcano? It’s right underneath YOU Wyoming.  Good luck with that.  Or, what about the next animal flu?  Birds and pigs are one thing, but what the hell will we do when we get something REALLY bad, like Shark Flu?

Now, I agree with all the naysayers- I’m going to die.  I even agree that the world will end sometime.  AND, I’m not even worried about that one.  I know some dead people already, it will be nice to catch up.  Plus, if we all die, I’ll know a lot more dead people. Also all the people who have had near death experiences say really nice things about being dead.  …Except for the ones who say they went to hell… So, what AM I concerned with here?  Well, I’ll tell you.  I’ve seen some of these movies.  The Road?! …thanks for that one Cormic- what a great combination of boring and morbidly depressing.   The Happening?! Sometimes when I see M Night Shyamalan’s flicks I think he puts crap out, sits back, waits, and then says “What, people still came out to see this one? Really? Ok, ok, I can still do worse.”  (Rather than link you to what ‘The Happening’ really is, I’ve embedded a video by the same name that you will enjoy more.)

Folks, what scares me more than anything is being trapped in a boring post apocalyptic world, watching the world blandly expire. Barf.

So, what’s the solution? How can you stop the inevitable? Can we really launch Bruce Willis into space with a nuclear warhead every time an asteroid comes by? Not realistic.  But maybe, just maybe, if we’re all going to die anyway, we can have a little bit of fun with it.  Eh? So, I’m sure you all know what I’m thinking of- Zombies AND Dinosaurs.  Duh. Can the Gub-ment stop the massive tidal wave of destruction?  The guys who try to fix a leak of harmful oil in the ocean by dumping more harmful chemicals in on top of it?  Ask any of the guys who helped clean up the Exon Valdez spill- oh wait, they’re all dead now… Nope, not likely.  But, as always, I’m sure they’ll know all about it before some terrible, terribly boring disaster takes place.  So, all I’m asking for, is for them to implement my simple Zombie/Dinosaur plan of action about… lets say, one year before things get really crappy.

See, this looks like much more fun, right?

Where will they get Zombies and Dinosaurs? Well, I would like to think that first we would try Zombie viruses, and Jurassic Park style DNA experiments.  But, if all else fails, we could always go animatronic.    Once they’ve figured out the ‘how’ they just need to mass produce both, and then release the Zombies and Dinosaurs into the unsuspecting populous.  Now granted, some people won’t like this.  Maybe some people don’t even know how to kill a zombie or out smart a velociraptor,  but I think we can all agree they would be the minority.  They would also be the very first to die, leaving behind a wealth of firearms and canned goods for the rest of us.

Now, of course, none of us would be able to survive forever with millions of zombies swarming and a hundred deadly species of dinosaurs roaming around, thirsty for blood.  However, the fast paced thrill ride would be just the shot of adrenalin we need.  And the colorful sights and sounds produced by the new monsters would keep our imaginations preoccupied and, dare I say, enchant us, up until the quick-ish painful end- Eaten alive in an entertaining, honorable, and fulfilling death, long before boring natural disasters ravage our already lifeless planet.  I guess it would suck to be the Dinosaurs in that scenario though… back on top… for a second,  and then boom!  Another boring asteroid extinction.

Just a photo of me running from a T-Rex I already had lying around, I'm sure you've got tons too

I know what you’re thinking- WTF?! Why hasn’t anyone else thought of this yet? I have no idea.  I can only hope that Uncle Sam already has and they’re just waiting for the right time to surprise us!  Lets all keep our fingers crossed!

David





Merry Christmas and a Happy Valentines Day!

21 02 2011

Ok, so my last blog was about Priscilla and I getting attacked by bears in South Dakota- AND LOVING IT! …that was about six months ago.  …or eight.  And, it seems as though I’ve gotten pretty bad at updating this blog.  I promise to try and do better… but, in the mean time, he’s what I’ve done the last- I don’t know, year or so.

Green Room Music Source Christmas party- I'm telling a story, and Priscilla doesn't buy it. ...That or she's realizing what crappy job I did trimming my sideburns...

In September we went down to Winona for the fifth annual Zombie Pub Crawl.  Unlike some more normal cities zombie crawls, in Winona you get a good feeling for what a real zombie attack would look like.  People stop traffic, climb on cars, projectile vomit all over, and even chase unsuspecting college kids who don’t know what’s going on.  One high schooler tried to start a fight when his daddy’s Chrysler 300 got a little bit of puke and blood on it… what a wuss.  The only zombie he attacked was a girl, and his opening line was, ‘you can’t hit me, I’m a minor.’  Then he promptly tried to strangle a girl zombie before the rest of the angry mob of drunken undead gently removed him and told him to go home.  This boy will be a huge douche bag one day…

Some Winona degenerates attacking a car

Check the whole in the knee... wicked!

Check the whole in the knee... wicked!

The toughest 17 year old in the world!

Also, Priscilla launched Pirk, a soap and beauty company. All natural, organic when possible, soap and face scrubs and bath bubbly salt junk, all that sort of crap.  People have been liking it so far!

Priscilla showing off all her soap flavors- which, as it turns out, are not for eating...

In October, Maudlin and our agency Green Room Music Source, went to New York City again for the CMJ music festival.  I was very disappointed by the fact that we didn’t steal any mannequin body parts this time.  We did eat a lot of food, and get a better understanding of how the Russian Mafia operates.

On the way to NYC we stopped in Indianapolis to see their war monument downtown... These bears commemorate the great bear insurgency of 1849

On the way to NYC we stopped in Indianapolis to see their war monument downtown... These bears commemorate the great bear insurgency of 1849

Me and Green Room partner, Aubry, checking out bands at the fest.

Brooklyn at Juniors

Brooklyn at Juniors

Puk in Manhattan

Priscilla doing something or other in the subway

Then, in November, Maudlin welcomed a new band member into our wacky fold.  You may remember Nick from last years St. Patrick’s Day adventure.

Nick proving that he fits in with the gang...

December was a time for holiday magic!  Maudlin hosted our second, kind of annual ‘The Worst Christmas Pageant Ever’ at the Hexagon in Minneapolis.  Discribing this event isn’t as much fun and just listening…

Radio's Barb Abney of The Current and Nick Larsen of Maudlin

Speshul K singing a touching rendition of his song, "The Bitch Who Stole Christmas"

"Daddy, Please don't get drunk at Christmas" You could feel John Denver smiling down on them as they sang

And who could forget Pat's duet with a puppet. Yes, Scritchy the Cat showed up for this one too.

Here I am with Barb trying hard to read my lines...

Priscilla ...out dorking everyone

This is a recycled piece of our totaled Ford Focus...

January was cold.  We don’t do anything in January here because it’s just too cold.  When the New year is over we turn in to primordial cave people.  …We also make ice sculptures though.

I am king of all the people dumb enough to be outside when it's this cold

This is King Tut

February has Valentines day in it… Weak.  I got Priscilla a pan for Valentines day.  Yup, a nice pan.  I thought this was  probably not the greatest gift I’d ever come up with for Priscilla.  However, after seeing her reaction to getting a very nice pan, I’ve decided that she only gets pans for gifts from now on.  That’s your relationship advice for the year- Pans, chicks dig them.  Or, at least, Priscilla does…

More exciting than the new pan was the new amp we bought for P

That’s about it… Oh, and George Clooney, STOP making movies. Please.  The glory days or over my friend.  Speaking of people who should stop doing what they do, I found this website recently.  What a beautiful charity! www.killlilwayne.org Hopefully someone will make a similar site for Weezer soon.  They must be stopped!

Until next time…

David





Raiders of the Lost Rickenbacker

22 09 2010

Ok, take the next left, and then an immediate right and you can't miss it.

Some of you stalkers may remember the recent trip Priscilla and I took to Denver Colorado for UMS.  After getting in the car at about 10PM, Priscilla and I drove out of Denver, and didn’t stop until we’d reached home, sweet home, St.  Paul, MN.  I was getting out of the car, and decided we’d better get the guitars before we went inside to collapse and sleep for a day.   I opened up the back of the Element and there was only one guitar. “Oh, we don’t have my bass…”

My baby! See where Frank ran out of room, and finished his name sideways? ...wait, you can't it's behind the mic stand. ...but that's what it looks like.

Priscilla broke down crying, which was very sweet of her.  My Rickenbacker, 4003 bass is my most prized possession.  Aside from the fact that, that’s just an awesome bass, mine was made more awesome by Frank Black when he signed it.  He was a complete dick the entire time I interacted with him.  I approached him as he was clearing some things off the stage at a small show at The Warehouse in LaCrosse when I was still in high school.

Me: Frank?

Frank: *silence*

Me: Frank?

Frank: *silence*

Me: Um, Frank?

Frank: *sighs* Yeees?

Me: Can you sign my bass?

Frank: I’d need a marker

Me: *waves hand already holding out marker*

This was probably the most pleasant of the three brief conversations I had with him that night.  Despite him being a jerk, AND his musical downward spiral (I was quite found the the FIRST six solo albums.  Now he’s got, like, forty or something- each progressively worse from what I could tell.  This was on the ‘Frank Black and the Catholics’ album tour.  That was a SWEET album.) it is still my favorite memento.  But as Priscilla cried, I was far to delirious from driving 15 hours to care about anything at all, and I stumbled inside.

Grief stricken, but determined, Priscilla went online to try and find what might have happened.  As luck would have it, a local Denver band found it and had already sent us an email.  When I woke up, we had to figure out how we were going to get this bass back.  I couldn’t ship it, because it was just in a gig bag, and I wouldn’t trust shipping it anyway.  There was only one thing to do- journey back west.

Our good friend Stephy, and new pal Brittany stopped somewhere in Wyoming for no reason that I can think of. Stopping in Wyoming is probably the most dangerous thing that happens in this blog...

Our good friend Steph went and got the Rick from the Denver band and took it home for safe keeping.  Then, on one fateful morning in September, we both set off, from opposite ends of the Earth, on a mission to reunite me and my bass!  Where should a historic reunion like this take place?  In the place the Natives believed was the sacred center of the Earth, and the white man marked as his territory with four famous severed heads, like some overly artistic dog peeing on a fence.  That’s right, Mount Rushmore!

Actually, that’s a lie.  We did go there because Steph brought her friend Brittany along, and she’d never seen Mount Rushmore.  But, we actually met beforehand at the hotel where we were staying ten miles away… Which is where I got my bass back. After that though, we did go to Mount Rushmore.  And once I had my bass back, what more could I ask for?  More bears please.  That’s right, back to Bear Country USA!

Bear Country also has Caribou, but they have less add space devoted to them...

So, it just so happens that we hit a ton of bugs with our car on the way to South Dakota.  It also happens that bears actually like to eat bugs.  …I didn’t ask them why.  But this combination turned out to be interesting.  We might as well have strapped a dead deer to our car as far as one hungry bear was concerned.  After he was done picking the grill of our car clean, he got up on his hind legs and plopped himself on top of the hood of the Element and began chewing on our windshield wiper.  It was probably the coolest thing that has ever happened to me… THEN, Bear Country USA came to our rescue by sending a scrawny teenage worker to chase the bear away from our car by clapping his hands and saying, “Shew!”  They apologized to us, and gave us out money back because there were scratches on our car.  …I didn’t tell them I would have paid extra to have a bear chew on my car…

People have asked me if I was afraid after seeing these photos.  …seriously? As if!  I’m not afraid of this little guy- it’s not like its a maneater like… oh say, a killer whale! *drum roll*  But, what happened next scared the crap out of me.  After the ride through the park we got out and walked through baby land.  (The part of the park with all the baby bears and other little critters) When, out of nowhere I felt something hit my chest hard, like some punk five year old whipped a pebble at me.  …but it wasn’t a pebble, it was the scariest bee I’ve ever seen.  If you can identify this thing then I owe you a beer.  Remember when I was getting attacked by horse flies that I thought were bees? This was like some sick joke by mother nature.

 

Evil has a name. It's this guy's name. ...I don't know what that is, specifically... so I'll just call him, 'Evil.'

I grabbed my shirt and pulled it away from my frail human body, and out of range of the massive stinger on its butt.  Then I worked up the courage to try and flick it off of me.  Just when I was about to make my move, Priscilla freaked out and told me not to- clearly afraid of what this thing would do to retaliate.  Just when we thought all hope was lost and the bee would have to ride home with us we heard, “Oh for Pete’s sake…”  Some small children’s mother walked over and fearlessly shewed the bee away.  I was surprised when it didn’t kill her.  I went up to the little boy she was with and told him, ‘Your mommy just saved my life, isn’t she brave?’  And he looked at me like I was a freak.  After that adrenaline rush it was time to go to Deadwood and ‘heckle’ pedestrians.  At least that’s the ‘official’ story of what happened…

Anyway, it was a weekend of triumph and knowledge.  I got my base back- that was great, but I also learned some things.  Some hotels charge by the person.  But when someone asks you why you need three keys when there are only two people staying in the room, keeping a cool head can save the day.  …that and using the back door the entire time you’re there.   I also learned that you can blow out your rotors really quickly in the black hills.  What I haven’t learned is what in the hell landed on my shirt.

 

I was thinking about going back with a screw driver to make the claw marks more badass, but I decided to leave it.

All for now!

 

 





They say you never get to attend your own funeral…

20 09 2010

Well, only if you wait for someone else to throw you one!  So, when I found out I was turning thirty, I decided to do just that- throw myself a funeral.  Once again, facilitating the event fell on the muscley shoulders of Scott Weber- because I don’t know anyone else with a 35 room themed mansion well enough to throw a party there.  He was happy to help.  Then, I shamelessly requested friends of mine to write “eulogies” in the form of a roast.  Everyone was told to wear black.  …and this is totally one of those ‘had to be there’ stories.  But, it was amazing!  I’ve never felt so loved while being made fun of!

Barb Abney (transplanted hillbilly) was called on to MC, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to say anything mean about me.  …which was too bad, because in my retort I had written several things about her… Laurel Ogren had some choice words for me- but I’m mostly mentioning her full name in here because someone keeps googling her and finding my site.  …so there you go whoever you are… Then the infamous Scotty Herold roasted me with a blow up doll.  Nick of The Icy Shores recounted our St. Patrick’s Day adventure (which is also a blog)  And, finally, my lovely Priscilla came up to roast me while doing her best Courtney Love imitation.  It was all hilarious.

There was a cake too.  It was great.  Thanks for the great time everyone!!!!





“Yes please, and some bears with that!”

13 08 2010

To keep healthy in the wild, bears will do countless sets of sit-ups.

As some of you devoted blog reader(s) might remember, we have a good friend in Denver, and we like to visit her.  We also like playing rock and roll and viewing bear attacks.  So, when the oppertunity came for Maudlin (That’s my, quote un-quote -cool band) to play at UMS we said, “yes please, and some bears with that!”

There are two ways for people who haven’t discovered planes yet to get to Denver: the evil, endless farmyard known as “Nebraska” or South Dakota.  Now, some people might not like all things to see in South Dakota, but we can all agree that there is nothing to see in Nebraska.  (I hate you Nebraska!  I hate you more than bad whale analogies!) …Anyway, there’s this place called Bear Country USA in South Dakota, next to Deadwood.  There are bears there.  You can pay fifteen dollars and the let you drive around in a big back yard with sixty bears- it’s basically like swimming with sharks.  …except the sharks are furry.  So… we did that.

Highly paid bear models will starve themselves to stunt their growth and maintain a desirable figure.

In captivity, bear models will starve themselves to stunt their growth and maintain a desirable figure.

(There are lots off really bad family videos of Priscilla and I driving around here that rival the Blair Witch Project, but I decided not to include them.)

After Bear Country USA, we headed on to Wyoming!  …Not much had changed there since the last time we passed through.  We did meet a gas station attendant who had never been pulled over by the man before.  Never.  I can’t even count the number of times I’ve been pulled over.  I must just look like trouble- trouble with a burnt out headlight.

So, just when I had made up my mind that the only way I would ever get out of the car was  to veer off the road into a tree- when ever I saw one- we reached the mile high city.  We showed up at Steph’s several hours late- which surprised no one, and promptly went to sleep.  In the morning we presented Steph with a traditional travelers gift: a wolf hat.

Um...

The next day we performed the first of our two showcases at UMS.  In our haste to get to the bear yard, we forgot Jason back in Minnesota, so our agent, Craig Grossman, was kind enough to sit in with us.  Big thanks to all of our new friends in Denver!  We had a blast playing!

Later someone in the crowd made me take off my sunglasses.

And then I forgot my bass… my Frank Black autographed Rickenbacker… I am an idiot.  But, the good people of Denver didn’t steal it, and arrangements have been made to meet at Bear Country USA again and get it back… Good fun, lots of forgotten things, and lots of bears… That’s about all I’ve got for this blog.  FAIL.  Le sigh…

In Brief: I hate to keep ragging on Ben Stiller… but did anyone see Greenberg?  It’s the dramatic tail of a suicidal washed up musician, who sexually assaults his brothers barely legal housekeeper.  It’s ok though, because after he assaults her, then verbally berates her, she realizes that she’s actually in love with him, and he’s not such a bad guy.   He finds out that being a douche bag always gets you chicks, even if you’re a complete loser.  I hope everyone who routinely takes all of their social cues from poorly dramatized realism is paying careful attention to this film.





Killer Whales- the dick heads of the high seas

25 04 2010

Killer Whales seen in their natural habitat.

Some time ago, I unwittingly typed my most controversial post.  I said some things the internet just could not forgive about Killer Whales and Neko Case.  As many of you may know, Neko Case is a famous marine biologist and singer/song writer.  Now, I have to admit that I have never seen Neko Case, nor a killer whale up close, however, I did read a motivational book about training killer whales.  I also watched about five minutes of Free Willie II once, so I think I have a reasonable idea of what a killer whale is.  They’re black and white and they swim.  They’re also not actually whales, but part of the dolphin family.  I learned that from a children’s book on sea predators-   I don’t remember what it was called or I’d reference that as well.

Anyway, even though they call them ‘killer whales’ and their scientific name was derived from the name of the Roman god of the underworld, these animals are not considered a threat to humans.   Still, Neko Case calls our underwater pals “man eaters” in her famous song “People Got a lot of Nerve.”  In this horribly titled diddy, she suggests that if a Killer Whale dragged you to the bottom and ate your leg, you shouldn’t be surprised, because, after all, they are called killer whales.  Then she goes on to talk about eating people herself, which is, I guess, a hobby of hers.  I retorted that Killer Whales don’t eat people and that it might have been more appropriate to use an animal that might actually eat a person in a ‘man-eater’ analogy.  It also would be a surprise to most people of a killer whale ate their leg.

Neko Case in her natural habitat

This spurred on a plethora of comments that I was a douche bag to attack pour Neko.  Very few people noted that neither Neko Case, nor many killer whales, actually read my blog- so this is more of a victimless crime.  Moreover, people tried to explain to me that she has poetic license and can write whatever she’d like to, whether or not it makes literal sense.  We are talking about a lady who compares herself to a tornado, and then depicts herself riding on the hood of a muscle car wielding a sword…  So I’m gathered that there was a little bit of poetic license involved. I, however, got the same go ahead from the internet to write whatever I want, even if it offends killer whales or tornadoes.  And, this whole blog is intended to be humorous… and if you’re not seeing that by now, you really need to find a new blog to read.

This is all similar to when people pointed out that none of the ‘examples’ of irony in Alanis Morissette’s song ‘Ironic’ are actually ironic situations at all.  So she either wrote an entire song about a common word she couldn’t define if her life depended on it, or she thought that writing a song about irony using all examples of things that weren’t ironic, would, as a whole, create a situation of irony.  Either way, that song was awful.  She still has poetic license to be an idiot- but it doesn’t change the definition of irony.  Clearly Neko Case is not as retarded as Alanis, and her music doesn’t make me want to stuff firecrackers in my ears, but I’m sure you can see the comparison. Making fun of stupid lyrics should be good fun for the whole family.

Alanis Morissette demonstrating her prowess with the English language

Alanis Morissette demonstrating her prowess with the English language

Now, in the mist of this entirely unentertaining altercation between myself and the internet, some killer whale murdered a trainer in cold blood.  This prompted about a thousand people to tell me that I was completely wrong in asserting that killer whales were no threat to humans, and not man-eaters.  All I can say to that, is that I, myself, do not kill people.  However, if you kidnapped me and put me in an oversized bathtub and made me perform dog tricks for several years, I might kill you too. Now, killer whales actually can’t be forced into doing much, because they’re too big.  So you have to train them with positive reenforcement, and get them to the point where they want to perform.  But, apparently even then they may harbor a grudge and just be waiting for the perfect moment to kill you in front of a few hundred children.  Also, turns out, this particular killer whale was a bad seed in the first place.  He’s the first serial killer whale.  Why they overlooked that on his resume and still let him in the show at Sea World, we may never know.  I seriously hope someone in HR got canned because of this. Also it’s important to note that this actually did surprise everyone quite a bit.  …because killing people is not normal behavior for killer whales.

Regardless of how many people one whale can kill, they still aren’t man-eaters.  Primarily because they don’t eat men.  And, maybe if the song was about man-drowners this whole thing never would have happened, because, as it turns out, that’s much more plausible.  I still stand by my previous statement that killer whales do not eat people.  I also still think that song is dumb regardless.  I don’t wish Neko any ill will, and I do sincerely hope she doesn’t fall off the front of that car she rides on, but I’ll probably never be a fan of her lyrical work. And I think that’s ok.

I hope this clears up any unanswered questions from the last post.  If not, I suggest either talking to Ms Case about the situation, or your local killer whale population.

Sigourney Weaver was Wiley Kit of the Thunder Cats

In brief:

Priscilla and I just finally watched James Cameron’s Ferngully Two to see what all the talk was about.  Sad to see that Robin Williams wasn’t allowed to reprise his role an annoying fruit bat, but it was good to see Sigourney Weaver is still acting.  She portrayed one of the Thunder Cats in the film. All in all our cats and I enjoyed all the bright colors and quick movement, but Priscilla got a headache.





So, there was Saint Patrick’s Day… that happened… Um…

5 04 2010

 

The poor deformed individual came out to try and drown his sorrows at the parade.  …the guy in the hat, not me…

Some of you readers may be from Minnesota where Maudlin is headquartered.  So, you will all understand this.  Others may have to take a trip up here to visit.  …It’s really cold here. Really, really, cold.  It may seem odd to many of our friends to the south that this blog has lay dormant for months since last fall- but like the illusive groundhog, I poked my head out into the frigid reality of Minnesota, and just went back to bed.  Like all burrowing rodents, I was eventually lured out by food coloring and crowds of people in dumb costumes.  I’m, of course, referring to Saint Patrick’s day.

Like many of our treasured holidays, Saint Patrick’s day was a total flop when it was first recognized.  But after many uneventful years, the meaning of the holiday was swapped out with the simple, yet effective, focus of complete drunkenness.  The name remained the same to lend legitimacy. You may remember this model being used for Christmas when the celebration of the birth of the savor was not as popular as the celebration of a fat guy who stages an annual home invasion, pilferes the fridge, and makes advances on your mother, in exchange for cheap Walmart toys wrapped in shinny paper and tape.

But, regardless of how things got the way they are- or what Saint Patrick’s was supposed to be about, the bottom line is clear.  At 10 am on a Wednesday morning, downtown Saint Paul was crawling with a hundred thousand people desiring nothing less than to shame their families and defile themselves in every way possible. …and I would certainly never miss a freak fest like that.

It started out like any other party.  I saw a film crew from a Canadian broadcasting company doing a piece on Saint Patrick’s day so I introduced myself.  “Hey, I’m a douche bag, interview me!” …Why that always works, I’ll never know, but they did proceed to interview me for several minutes.  Ten bucks to whoever can find the footage online, because I can’t.  …and, I mean, obviously they would air my interview.

Astronaut marching band.

After that my party buddy, Nick, and I went to the parade to have candy thrown at us by members of NASA.  I don’t know much about what the space program is up to these days, but I’m pretty sure that putting a marching band in a Saint Patrick’s Day parade is a pour use of government funding.  I mean, we can’t even live in space yet, WTF.  Let’s fix that problem, and then maybe have a marching band.

When the parade was done, we walked back to see historic West Seventh street in Saint Paul be destroyed by morons.  I prefer to make Patrick McGovern’s my home base for Saint Patrick’s Day.  When we got there, there were already a thousand people in the joint.  I was hungry and Iron Man Nick had only had some cottage cheese before biking thirty five miles before I woke up… so we decided to carb up on some hamburgers.  Now, on a serious note, McGovern’s is great, and the food is great… any other day of the year.  Every single employee looked like they should have been on suicide watch, and they served my burger on a paper plate with ketchup packets.         …ketchup. Packets. *shudders*

Who would go out with me to almost certainly get beat up? This guys would. Hi Nick!

We got stuck sitting right next to a couple of “hilljacks” -Thanks for the scientific terminology Barb! (Barb Abney, that is.  Barb is MPR’s foremost expert on Ohio- the native breeding ground of the hilljack) Nick and I tried really hard to make fun of them in code that their primitive minds couldn’t follow without getting killed.  …there are no picutres also because I didn’t want to die for a photo opp.  …but just imagine that they were so hilljacky that I had to mention it.  That’s a lot of hilljack.

After the carb up, we ventured up to see all the freaks dancing to the DJ’s very non-Irish set.  This guy was the live of the party, and my goal for elder life.  If I could be one part this guy and one part Johnny Cash, I think I’d die happy.  He’s 62 years young, and he was dancing there with his daughter all day.

Later we made the horrifying discovery that some people were wearing Zubas again.  …Although, one of these girls also had a fanny pack on, so they may have both just been from a group home.

When they brought their zubas closer to me I vomited in the cup

There were a whole lot of freaks there, and Nick and I bothered all of them.  One girl thought that wearing a white shirt and letting people write things on her would be fun.  Boy was she dumb.   Then some girls pants fell off of her butt.  I’m really excited to see how many google hits I get from someone googling that exact phrase, btw.

 

Later, Priscilla joined Nick and I because we still hadn’t managed to get the crap kicked out of us yet, and she wanted to try and fix that.

 

 

We inched closer and closer to the drunk couple making out. It was really funny. ...if you were there...

 

If you like looking at this, also try http://www.awkwardboners.com

Some of you may have noticed that when these pictures started it was very noonish, and in the Green Man picture it’s very bedtime-ish.  Well, seeing as well at to work the next day, we called it a night shortly thereafter.  As Nick would say, “…and cut!”

In Brief:

The Marc Pease Experience. …um… if you pick this one off the self and take a look you’ll probably think.  “Oh, Ben Stiller and Jason Schwartzman in a comedy about a musical? Classic!” Then you’d rent it, and then you’d find out this movie has no jokes in it, but but it does have eight full songs from The Wiz in it.  If you’re thinking, “That sounds good, but I’d rather see Stiller and Schawartzman co-star in a movie where they are both pedophiles” then this is really your movie.

That’s all for now, I changed our cats food, and they’re number three-ing (which is the scientific term for excriment that has both the characteristics of number one and number two…) all over the house, and I need to get my hasmat gear…

David








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