12.21.2006

Signing Off (for now)

In 45 minutes, I'm leaving for a two-week vacation. I'll be making stops in Milwaukee, Lake O' Ozarks, Kansas City, and Madison (see map below).

Watch out for the nuclear explosion!
So you probably won't hear from me for a while. Maybe there's a computer in one of the places I'm going, so I might be able to give you one update along the way. This is all assuming I'm not kidnapped by the Malaysian secret police (long story [actually not that long, but a little boring]).

Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year!

All I want for Christmas is two Santas to rock out like crazy.

The Dark History of Richfield

Don't ask me why, but I decided to do some "research" into the history of my hometown this morning, and I found some disturbing things. Richfield, Minnesota is not the pretty little town that you might have thought it was if you've ever heard of it before maybe.

When Richfield was first being settled in the mid-1800s, most of the settlers were immigrants*. However, some of those immigrants were ghosts! That's right. I don't mean that Richfield is haunted. From what I understand, these ghosts mostly kept to their own business and just farmed like everyone else. Also, they were Polish.

Richfield used to be much bigger than it is now, but a series of divisions and annexations brought it to its present size. In 1888, pirates who were kept in the county jail in west Richfield (as far west as present-day Highway 169*) broke out and staged a rebellion against the Richfield city government. They pirates waged war with the city for two years. When they reached peace, the pirates were allowed to break away and establish their own city. Richfield's western border was set at present-day Xerxes Ave, and the pirates named their city Edina*.

Richield's northern border used to extend far north enough to include both Lake Harriet and Lake Calhoun*. This border was later shortened when the Chinese annexed these parts of the city as part of their conquest of Tibet. They later sold those parts of the city to Minneapolis for a few million dollars and some nice T-shirts for Mao. Minneapolis renamed the street separating the two lakes "Richfield Road" in mockery of the once great city.

The Bartholomew House near Wood Lake, a registered National and Minnesota historic place*, was actually built in the late 1920s when then-mayor Bartholomew Joseph Anderson was kicked out of his house for cheating on his wife. He built the house mostly by himself, but he contracted polio before he could finish it. He enlisted some beavers to complete the construction. He died in 1931 of a combination of polio and beaver poisoning.

New Ford Town, a small part of Richfield annexed by the Chinese airport in the early 1990s*, was originally named after the first car in Richfield. The richest resident of early Richfield, and the only resident of New Ford Town, bought a new Ford truck for the long drives into the city. When the new truck arrived, he changed the name of his farm from Old Horse Town to New Ford Town.



NOTE: Starred sentences are true or contain some measure of truth.

12.19.2006

Seven

For my next mix CD project, I will burn seven discs, each one themed after one of the seven virtues. I was all excited to work on this over the next few weeks, but then I encountered a problem. While the Catholic church named seven deadly sins, they named 14 virtues. Talk about going overboard.

There is one group of seven "capital" virtues, and each of these is the opposite of a deadly sin. Then there's the four "cardinal" virtues (prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude), my personal favorites, which are often paired with the three "theological" virtues (faith, hope and charity). So which ones do I make my mix CDs for?

I'm gonna go with cardinal and theological, I think. That'll be the real challenge. Anybody could make a CD after the deadly sins or undeadly virtues, but tackling something like "fortitude" will require some sound mixology.

And to Adam: if you have any suggestions for any of these CDs, let me know, since you'll be the one to hear them on the drive down to Faithwalkers.

The Miracle of Plastic

Who can live without plastic? I know I can't. Without plastic, I wouldn't have my computer, my TV, my CDs, or my friends. But I think we all know what the most valuable plastic-related development is: fake vomit.

Thanks to fake vomit, we can play so many pranks on our junior high friends. You can put in their locker to make them think somebody puked in their locker, or you can put it on their desk to make them think somebody puked on their desk. The possibilities are endless!

I can't believe it's not vomit!
I wonder what the world would be like without plastic. Would fake vomit be made of cloth? Would people freeze-dry regular vomit and sell that as fake? If I could only purchase cotton vomit, my life would be meaningless. I would never trade my plastic fake vomit, even if being plasticless would bring about world peace. Also in a world without plastic, man never would have landed on the moon.



Interesting fact about fake vomit: if you feed it to your dog, he'll give you real vomit!

12.15.2006

Judgment Day

When you get a call from your parents, have you ever wondered if they've actually just been murdered by the Terminator and he's imitating their voices just trying to find out where you are so he can murder you too and prevent you from starting some human resistance group in the future?

I've wondered that sometimes, and I'm relieved when I find out it's not true. But what's funny is that even if it did end up being the Terminator, I would still tell them where I am. I may be putting myself in grave danger. Maybe next time I should make something up. Like I'm at the S&M club or something.

The Day I Almost Stopped Existing

Yesterday was a difficult day. As you may have noticed, I didn't blog. That may not have seemed unusual to you, but I actually had quite a bit to say. Thanks to the Nazis in this hot dog factory, my blogging apparatus was blocked due to sexual content. I don't see any sex here, do you?

Thankfully they brought it back up today, but now I don't remember any of the cool stuff I was going to talk about yesterday.

I could sure use a bagel right now.

12.13.2006

Redesign

Welcome to Unspar's renewed blog in beta form! Nothing important has changed, but there are a few minor alterations I'd like to bring your attention to.

1: The link categories have all changed to titles of Keanu Reeves movies. This not only reflects my love for Keanu, but it better delineates between types of blogs and websites I frequent. For instance, Point Break, the greatest of all Keanu films, covers the high-quality mainstream links, and A Walk in the Clouds, debatably Keanu's girliest film, covers the girls' blogs.

2: Labels. I'm not totally satisfied with how I've set them up, but it's a start. I was purposely obscure with some labels, and for the sake of less obscurity, "Coal Mining" refers to work, and "Tumbleweeds" refers to boring posts and posts inspired by boredom.

3: My posts are now "Baked fresh" instead of "Written and Directed."

Enjoy life in the new millenium!

Handicapped Accessible

After all these years, we're still treating our disable people as second-class citizens. You know those handicapped ramps? They're all uphill! It's so cruel to make the handicapable strain their arms like that. It's even worse at my building: not only do they have to go up a ramp, but then there's a little hill to go up to get to the elevators. It's inhuman!

To truly be fair, we should have all our buildings slightly underground so that they can roll downhill to get in. I guess that means they'd have to go uphill to get out, though. Well, maybe they can all roll down to the basement and take the elevator up from there, then leave on the first floor. Or maybe we can just have all our buildings be flat and even.

Why do buildings have stairs at their entrances anyway? That doesn't make any sense at all.

12.11.2006

Et Tu, Frozen Pizza?

I think I have to quit frozen pizza. We've had a long and tumultuous journey together, from the Tombstone Sunday nights at Mom's to the cheap Jack's that took care of me through college to the present day of cooking pizza in my laziness, but after the last few weeks, it's time for this run to come to an end.

A whole frozen pizza is now too much for my digestive system to take in one sitting. I know what you're thinking: I could just eat half the pizza, enjoy it, and enjoy the other half some other time. Not possible. I feel guilty for not eating the whole thing. I've cut myself off before, and it just seems like a waste. It'd be easier to never have frozen pizza again than to have only half of one at a time.

Looks like it's back to nothing but rice.

12.07.2006

Numerous Syllables

The best names have two syllables.

I discovered this as I pondered over the names of some characters in my newest writing adventure. One-syllable names are OK, two-syllable names are ideal in every situation, and three-syllable names are utter disasters.

For instance, there is a female character who I have tentatively named "Lindsay." Unfortunately, despite the fact that this name has the perfect number of syllables, it doesn't work. I can't think of any real monosyllabic girl names. Only Ann, and I know too many Anns in real life. I considered changing her name to "Gloria," but who in their right mind would pronounce all three of those syllables? And you can't shorten that name. Glor?

Same goes for the rest of creation.
Kevin? Good. Roger? It's got an upside. Jasper? Solid gold. Bud, Pete, George? I threw up a little in my mouth just thinking of those. Or how about Sylvester, Julio, and Frankenstein? I'm imagining people who are horribly deformed and have speech impediments.

Yet somehow Ricardo Montalban is one of the greatest names mankind has ever known.

12.06.2006

What Would Ricardo Montalban Do?

Dear Ricardo,
I didn't have time to rake my leaves this year, and it's already started snowing! Is there anything I can do to avoid a soggy mess come springtime?
Sincerely,
Peter Rutherford, St. Louis, MO


Dear Peter,
Your lawn is doomed, I'm afraid. I suggest you have your midget take care of the problem.
Cheers,
Ricardo Montalban

Dear Ricardo,
I love toast.
Johnny


Dear Johnny,
Toast is quite delicious. Just so you know, my career is more than just Fantasy Island and Wrath of Khan. I've guest-starred in several other television shows. Enjoy your toast.
Cheers,
Ricardo Montalban

Dear Ricardo,
My army of genetically-engineered clones just escaped from my lab. How do I stop them? And please hurry.
Dr. Jeffries


Dear Dr. Jeffries,
If you may recall, my role in Wrath of Khan was one of the escaped genetically-engineerd warriors. Therefore, my experience is more suited to evading capture and exacting revenge than to putting an end to their rampage. I apologize for the confusion.
Cheers,
Ricardo Montalban

Dear Ricardo,
You've got Genesis, but you don't have me. You were going to kill me. What's up?
Yours, Admiral James T. Kirk.


Dear Admiral Kirk,
I've done far worse than kill you, Admiral. I've hurt you. And I wish to go on hurting you. I shall leave you as you left me, as you left her: marooned for all eternity in the center of a dead planet, buried alive.
Cheers,
Ricardo Montalban

Dear Ricardo,
KHAAAAAAAAAAAN!!! I mean, MONTALBAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!
Yours, Admiral James T. Kirk.


Dear Admiral Kirk,
Sinister laughter.
Cheers,
Ricardo Montalban

12.05.2006

The Moon

If there's one thing I love about the moon, it's that you can do anything you want to it. It's not like anybody cares about the moon. They don't have any littering laws, you don't have to keep your dog on a leash or clean up its poo, and you can blow up as much of it as you want.

Seriously though, if I had a giant missile, I'd definitely launch it at the moon. Same if I had a sweet laser. I wouldn't want to blow up the whole moon, just parts of it. We need to preserve some of the moon for posterity to blow up and let their dogs poop on too.

Somebody told me that a lot of elderly people live on the moon these days too, and we need to be sure we blow them up before they come after us.

Realistically, though, since I don't have a giant missile or a sweet laser, I guess I'll have to open a restaurant on the moon. I think I'll call it "Ben's Restaurant on the Moon." Or maybe "Hey Look! There's a Restaurant on the Moon!"

12.04.2006

Not Joe Pesci

In the past half-hour or so, I've seen more references to Danny DeVito than I have in the past year. First IMDB puts a prominent advertisement for a movie about orgasms co-starring DeVito, then grumpy blogger extraordinaire Kevin Sawyer mentions his stay in the Lincoln bedroom, and fantasy football pundit Christopher Harris uses the short man in some analogy about Chiefs running back Larry Johnson.

What is going on?

Last thing I heard about Danny DeVito was nothing, and now this. It doesn't make any sense to me. I guess I don't care, but for a second I was shocked. I guess there aren't any better short, hairy guys to make fun of or put in movies, but still. Take it easy, people.

To return some balance to the world, my next three posts will reference Ricardo Montelban.

12.01.2006

The Giant Brain Timeline

THE TIMELINE OF GIANT BRAIN ACTIVITY

Prehistory - Giant floating brains rule and oppress ancient cavemen. Man rises up, overthrows the giant brains and banishes them to outer space. This legendary battle is detailed in many ancient cave paintings.

1000 B.C. - Giant brains make their first appearance on earth since their exile. They play a practical joke in Egypt, convincing the people that their gods were funny-looking monsters.

300s B.C. - Alexander the Great unearths the dried husk of a giant brain during his conquest of Asia Minor. He tries to wear the brain as a helmet and dies shortly afterward.

31 B.C. - Roman principate founded. Giant brain becomes first Roman Emperor.

476-1330 A.D. - Dark Ages. Giant brains completely withdraw from Earth and Earth-related events to backpack across galaxy. Human science eschews intelligent developments.

1503 A.D. - Giant brain refuses to paint Mona Lisa.

July 11, 1798 - Angry mob of giant brains storms the Bastille and burn it to the ground. Giant brains later deny involvement, claiming France does not exist.

October 8-10, 1871 - Fire in Chicago destroys much of the city. No giant brains are harmed.

August 1948 - Giant brains invade Australia and are repulsed. They retreat to Antarctica and establish a colony. Many giant brains freeze to death. President Truman calls brains "stupid."

October 1, 1957 - The Brain from Planet Arous, the first film about giant brains, opens to rave reviews. Brain segregation intensifies.

1989-2001 - Giant brains approach extinction as Baywatch premiers and grows in popularity.

2001-present - Giant brains protected as endangered species, populations mostly clustered in wildlife preserves in Kenya.

11.30.2006

Time Traveling Movie Review Review

(For those of you who missed the Time Traveling Movie Review, check it out HERE.)

By fellow time-traveling film critic, Jason Zoomdonkey

2 stars out of 5

Traveling through time to review Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is the biggest waste of time-traveling skills I've ever seen. Especially when the writer notes that he owns the movie in 2006. Why not just watch the movie? You don't gain much from watching this film in its release year. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2 yes, the original no.

I appreciate his points about Splinter and Corey Feldman, however.

Should this segment continue, I would like to see more movies from the future discussed. Not only do readers like them better, but there's more substance to examine and review. I recently saw Hyper Mega Railroad Heist vs. the Power Patrol Spectacularrrr in 2041, and afterwards I wrote one of my best reviews ever.

Perhaps we shall meet again on the fields of time and battle to the death.

Time Traveling Movie Review

For today's segment, I've decided to travel 16 years into the past to the year 1990 to review a film called Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Many of you have probably had a chance to see this film in the 16 years it's been available to the public, but it's a movie that I believe is better reviewed immediately after its release. So here goes.

traveling through time...and back.

3 and a half stars out of 5

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is a movie that knows what it's about and doesn't try to do anything more than that. That reserved effort makes it a success, though it's a limited success. It works well for the kids, but adults can still enjoy its campy humor.

As a fan of the show, there was only one thing that bothered me: Splinter's back story was completely wrong. According to the cartoon, Splinter was a Japanese man who was forced to live in the sewers with a bunch of rats. He was not a rat to begin with. Very uncool.

I appreciated Corey Feldman's presence in the cast. As a time traveling movie reviewer, it reminds me of the golden days of the Coreys. For the audiences of 1990, he was probably too old to still be likable. Their loss, really.

In the present day, I own this movie, but I probably wouldn't buy it if I still lived in 1990. It's cool in a retro way, not an I-like-it-in-the-present-day way.

Too Much Sarcasm

This morning I considered posting my "life story." I was going to entitle the post "Life Story," and then I was going to talk about all the jungle cats I wrestled, how I worked on a Chinese freight ship from ages 8-12, and other assorted mistruths. It probably wouldn't have been that funny because lies aren't funny anymore. Sarcasm is too post-modern, and these days you have to be post-post-modern if you really want to be funny. So here's my post-sarcastic take on my life story.

Um...you can't make fart noises on the internet.


{APPLAUSE}

11.29.2006

Trial and Error

Anybody ever see that movie? The one in the subject line. Michael Richards and Jeff Daniels are the odd couple in this comedy romp on the legal system. It's not very good, but I saw it for free thanks to a Papa John's promotion (which also gave us a free Weekend at Bernie's). Life is best when it's free. Am I right fellas?

Anyway, I was trying to think of something to write on the blog, and I started thinking about my friend who's a lawyer*, and that got me thinking about Trial and Error, and then I wondered what it would be like for me to take the place of my lawyer friend in the courtroom. I think it'd go a little something like this....

The Arraignment of Avery Jackson for the Murder of Henry Hoobadoo
Featuring Defense Attorney Paul Ragagagag and Prosecuting Attorney Ben's Friend (secretly replaced by Ben himself), with Honorable Judge Cowudder Presiding

JUDGE COWUDDER: Defendant, how do you plead?
AVERY: Guilty.
BEN (ME): Objection!
DEFENSE ATTORNEY: What?
BEN: He can't plead guilty! Then what am I supposed to do?
JUDGE: Overruled.
BEN: What if I think he didn't do it? Can I overrule his plea?
JUDGE: No.
BEN: Then I plead not guilty.
DEFENSE: Objection.
JUDGE: Sustained.
BEN: Not fair! I didn't do it!
DEFENSE: You're not on trial.
BEN: I move for a mistrial!
JUDGE: Bailiff, please arrest the attorney for contempt.
BEN: Why don't you arrest everybody?
DEFENSE: Objection.
JUDGE: (pause) Overruled.
DEFENSE: What?
JUDGE: Mr. Prosecutor, I've learned a lot from your free spirit, and you're right. We all need to be free like you. Everybody, you're under arrest.
AVERY: PARTAY!!!
(Two go-go dancers in cages rise up from behind the judge's bench.)
DEFENSE: (to Ben, yelling over party noise and awesome mid-nineties hip-hop) Did you even pass the Bar?
BEN: Is that a challenge?
DEFENSE: Is what---
BEN: LIMBO CONTEST!

And I went on to win the limbo contest AND the water balloon fight.


*I actually don't have a friend who's a lawyer, but I have two friends and an acquaintance in law school, and one of my coworker's wives worked in a law office, so I figure that all equals one lawyer friend.

11.28.2006

Blog Entry

Yesterday and today have been two of the busiest days I've seen at this job. Though I very much want to quantify it for you, I won't because you probably wouldn't understand it. So I'll quantify something else.

Here are two thoughts that I've had today:

1. I've enjoyed taking dumps more than I enjoy this job.

2. That's not entirely true. While there have been a few enormously satisfying dumps, most of them weren't that great.

11.21.2006

When Stunts Go Bad

Some of you may have been lucky enough to see When Stunts Go Bad and When Stunts Go Bad 2 in your lifetimes. I have. It's a defining experience.

An event I thought worth sharing was Gary Wells' attempt to jump over the fountains at Caesar's Palace in 1980. He crashed into a brick wall (I think), and, along with breaking several bones, separated his aorta from his heart--AND LIVED.

If you ever wonder whether or not you're invincible, I suppose that's the way to find out. If I thought I was invincible, I'd probably try something simple like smashing my hand with a hammer. Aorta separation is good too, but that's probably for the ones who are already pretty sure about their invincibility.

Gobble

Thanksgiving is only two days away, and I'm excited to have the rest of the week off starting tomorrow (because I decided to skip out of work early). There's not a whole lot to get excited about Thanksgiving for otherwise, unless you're a glutton, in which case you probably eat a lot every day and Thanksgiving isn't much different (except for the notably increased amounts of gravy).

While I'm indifferent to the celebration, I'm growing less and less indifferent to the holiday. We have a buttload to be thankful for, people, and that's what this holiday is supposed to be about. It's not about the meal, it's not about family, and it's not even about murdering Indians (though it could technically be about all those things); it's about being thankful.

In that spirit, I present you a few of the things that I am thankful for this year and forever:

1. I am thankful for parentheses and the extra dimension they add to sentences.
2. I am thankful for laughter and how it makes my belly feel warm.
3. I am thankful for ducks because I think they look pretty neat.
4. I am thankful for not having internet or TV so that I waste less time, supposedly.
5. I am thankful for prophetic dreams and that I don't have many of them.
6. I am thankful that I don't own any cats.
7. I am thankful that "gobble" could make for a decent Thanksgiving-time pun.
8. I am thankful that my family will not go around in a circle to share what we're thankful for.
9. I am thankful that I have a job, even though I often can't stand it.
10. I am thankful that we are not at nuclear war with anyone.

11.17.2006

If I Owned a Sports Franchise

Or, Why I Should Own a Sports Franchise.

I've never really wanted to own a sports franchise until today. I always thought I'd be fine as a simple attendant, but today I realized that any faltering sports franchise really needs me. Here's the short list of changes I would make to any given franchise that would allow me to buy them.

1. I would give the court/field/arena a more variable topography. Rather than your typical flat or "even" playing fields, mine would have mounds, cliffs, and perhaps alligators that players would have to contend with. Play would be much more interesting in all cases except baseball, where the alligators would probably eat half the team before the batter could strike out.

2. If the game gets boring, I reserve the right to changes sports mid-event. A lopsided football game could become a tight basketball game. Of course, the court/field/arena wouldn't change, which could make for a pretty low-scoring basketball game (or, should basketball become football, a very high-scoring football game). I think I would most enjoy changing sports to hockey.

3. Whatever building my team plays at would have only unisex bathrooms so as to eliminate the awkwardness of peeing in a trough.

4. Before every game, three national anthems would be performed. "The Star Spangled Banner," "O Canada," and a third to be picked at random 10 minutes before the game begins.

This is just the beginning.

Space Filler

That giant picture of Erik Estrada is really freaking me out. Every time I open my blog, I'm worried that everybody at work will think I'm looking at gay porn. I don't regret posting it--it's a great picture, I guess--but I don't like it being so close to the top. So here's some filler.

Did you guys ever see The Abyss? Remember when Ed Harris had to go way deep underwater, and the only way he could do it was to inhale this weird oxygenated water in a space suit? I wonder if that actually works. And I wonder how many animals we'd have to kill to find out.

11.16.2006

Congratulations, Ponch

Erik Estrada continues to win my affection and adoration. It began with a disgustingly tight police uniform on TV's CHiPs, which I never watched but can appreciate on an intangible level. It continued several years later with CHiPs '99, which I also never saw and have a much harder time appreciating. Then there was The Surreal Life and Sealab 2021, the shiniest gems in his crown, and now he's the public spokesperson for some real estate company in New Mexico.

Erik Estrada, today you are the recipient of the first "annual" Unspar Lifetime Achievement Award. This prestigious award acknowledges significant achievement in the fields of both television and everything else. People who have received this prestigious award previously are no one.

My hat goes off to you, señor.

Welcome to history's hall of fame.  Nice towel, by the way.

Busyness

Most of you think I do nothing at my job, and while that's true almost all the time, yesterday was very busy. Let me explain.

One of the other companies in my building is called Animal Experiment Laboratories. I have no idea what they do, but one of their blue monkeys escaped yesterday, and everything went crazy. They closed down our office, but instead of sending us home, they gave every employee a tranquilizer gun and said we had to hunt the blue monkey until he was secured once again. There wasn't much of a strategy for it, though, so we all pretty much wandered around everywhere hoping we'd see it. A lot of my coworkers got shot, actually. That was kinda funny.

I ended up checking the women's restroom, and I found the blue monkey in one of the stalls. I was about to shoot him when he spoke to me. "Wait!" he said. "Don't shoot! I have some important information they don't want you to know, that's why they sent you after me." I lowered my tranq gun to listen. "The animal experimenters sent me two hundred years into the future two weeks ago," he said, "and there I saw a disturbing vision of what will become of society. It convinced me that I had to destroy the human race." I was shocked. I raised my gun to shoot the blue monkey, but before I could move, the gun was in his hands. He shot me in the thigh. As I passed out, I was just thankful that he hadn't flung poo at me.

When I awoke, I was on a cold table with a bright light shining in my face. My vision gradually came back, and I saw three giant waffles standing above me. The waffles had arms and legs and wore those white gloves like cartoon characters always have. "Syrup," one of them said. Another passed him the syrup, and he started pouring it all over me. I screamed.

Then it was 1, so I went to lunch.

After lunch, the blue monkey called me into his office. He told me I was fired. "You can't fire me," I said. "Yes I can," he said. "I'm your father!" I screamed. Then he told me he was joking. "You're not my father?" I asked. "No, I am your father, but you're not fired."

They gave me a free blanket and let me leave early for the day.

11.13.2006

Daily Affirmation

One of my coworkers, in all her wonderful and sincere kindness, passed out a sheet of paper with "My Declaration of Self-Esteem." Now, for your amusement, I will make fun of it through the art of parody.

My Declaration of Self-Esteem
By Ben Robison

In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me, and I like me. I also like Megadeth. No one else likes Megadeth, and if so, they are lame.
I am not lame. I own me and my thoughts and my actions, none of which are lame. I do not own anything lame.
I have fantasies, hopes, dreams, and fears, and most of those are about being the fastest Olympic track star slash lion hunter in history.
I would someday like to own a hang-glider or a floating mansion or both. I make myself meaningful, but a floating mansion would really help with that.
People who don't like me are lame. If there are times that I don't like me, then I am lame. If someone who is lame likes me, they are still lame. I don't hang out with lame people because lame is contagious.
I have the tools to survive, be happy, and be close to others because I bought them at a garage sale. Most of the time I just use a screwdriver.
I can courageously look for solutions to my problems because I am capable of solving them within myself. I like to create problems for everyone else so they can feel good about solving them on their own.
My favorite fish is the marlin. All other fishes suck. Only some other fishes literally suck.
When I go to Jeff's garage, I can rock out better than when I am at home because he has a sweet guitar that I use. I use it because I am me and I am OK. I am better than Jeff.

11.08.2006

The Day After the Election

It's a dark day for the earth and its denizens. Not as dark as the day Elvis died, nor as dark as the day Clay Aiken lost American Idol, but a dark day nonetheless.

Some of you may be discouraged because Democrats now control the House of Representatives, but worse things have happened. For instance, Republicans have controlled the House of Representatives. Also, dogs have been murdered. That's much worse.

But there's one thing we should all worry about. This guy:


He's Phil Willkie, our next soil and water conservation supervisor in District 2. Under his leadership, expect our soil and water to withdraw from Iraq, break up the two-party political duopoly, nationalize banks and transportation, and overturn the Patriot Act.

Now before we start to criticize, let's cut the guy some slack. He's probably not a bad guy. His heart seems to be in the right place. Sure, he's a communist, but who isn't?

The only problem is that we can't expect him to get all this done from his current office. We need to get him elected to Congress, or maybe even president! Willkie '08! Woooo!

11.07.2006

My Heroes

Many of you who read this probably think of me as a sticky ball of sarcasm not unlike a giant wad of Bubblicious. There's more to me than irreverence, though. A large part of me is love. To continue with the chewing gum metaphor, I'm half Bubblicious, half Wrigley's.

I don't know exactly where I was going with that, but here's a segment on people who I admire.

Dick Vermeil

Cry me a river, Dick Vermeil.
Sure, he's a good football coach, but he's also got feelings. The man's not afraid to cry, and that's cool. He cried when he won the championship. He cried at a lot of games. He just loves football that much. You have to respect that. And those sunglasses are awesome.

Robert E. Lee

Surrendering is noble when you're not French.
It takes a great man to become the greatest general of his time, blow one of the most important battles of the war, and honorably surrender the war to the enemy. My favorite story of his life: Lincoln asked him to join the North, and he said no. Where's your Emancipation Proclomation now?

Chiang Kai-Shek

I didn't know he was bald.
I'll just come out and say it: in many ways, I prefer Mao Tse-Tung. The guy had ideas, and he followed through with him. It's not his fault that his policies killed millions of citizen, is it? Well, maybe it is. Anyway, Chiang wins because he isn't (indirectly) responsible for the murder of his own people, and he brought the freedom-loving Chinese to a tiny island that we lovingly refuse to acknowledge as an independent state, known as Taiwan.

Butros Butros Gali

Who is this guy anyway?
What a name.

The Ultimate Warrior

More like the Ultimate Awesome.
When I watched wrestling that one time when I was 8, this was my guy. He never talked (as far as I remember), and if he did, it was in primitive grunts. Then he whooped ass. That's a role model right there. It's what I've aspired to ever since.

Bill

There's a lot of flag burners who have got too much freedom; I wanna make it legal for policemen to beat 'em.
This is just because I feel forced to ackowledge the election on election day. I appreciate our legal system, sort of, and I appreciate it the most through song. Unfortunately, I didn't grow up with School House Rocks; I grew up with The Simpsons, so I ended up jaded and sarcastic. And here we are. Just remember, "There are limits to our liberty, at least I hope and pray that there are because those liberal freaks go too far."

A Billion Emails

I get in this morning, fresh from just having voted, to discover my inbox full of messages with the subject line "Let's make it official." At first I'm like, how the hell did I get all these emails? Then I notice they're from Christine, Anna Leisa, and Andy, so I know I'm in for a treat. Here are my favorite quotes:

"Ben won't check his mail until tomorrow morning because he doesn't have internet at home anymore. He will deal."

"Andy, if you continue to be all Adam-and-Eve-y with the blaming, I'm going to have to try to hurt your feelings."

"I hate football. All sports movies tug at the old heartstrings though."

"Mark Wahlberg's huge hair aside, Invincible looks pretty decent."

"Mark Wahlberg has only gotten better with age."

"Poor Ben...his work email is going to be STACKED tomorrow. I'll copy him. Just to add more."

I would have included more quotes about me because that would have been funny, but it wouldn't have been funny enough.

That's 17 emails, excluding the ones that weren't sent to me in the beginning. At least that gives me something to do this morning.

11.06.2006

Electioneering

Today on my way to work, I saw what is probably one of the most disturbing political ads in history. You know how people stand on freeway bridges to hold up signs for their candidates? On my commute, there were a bunch of Mike Hatch-ies waving signs, one of which said, "If Mike Hatch were governor, you'd be home by now." (Contextual note: this was very near the apartment complex well-known for its sign, "If you lived here, you'd be home by now.")

My own political leanings aside, this is a bit of an outlandish statement. There are a lot of people taking that particular route, and Mike Hatch wants us all to be home there? Or is he trying to say that he'll make it so we don't have to have jobs, and we'd be home by now instead of going to work? I don't get it.

In contrast, I saw two very unenthusiastic people holding Mike Freeman signs on a different bridge. Just two regular signs that said "Mike Freeman" on them. So I've come to the conclusion that freeway campaigning is not very effective. Especially because somebody might get in an accident.


ANOTHER NOTE: My apologies to those of you who come here following a google search for a particular candidate. This blog falls into the "not serious" category, so I can't discuss my serious reasons for favoring certain candidates over others. I suggest you get that information from robots or people who have traveled into the future and back.

11.01.2006

Another Post Entitled "Welcome to the Jungle"

Today, in less than five hours, the NBA season will begin in full. I know there were two games last night, but neither of them could be taken seriously. The first was a joke--albeit a really funny joke--in which the defending NBA champion was almost lapped in its 108-66 defeat. The second was notable for featuring my favorite basketball-playing caveman, Andrew Bynum.

I can't tell the difference.  Can you?
But more exciting than last night's circus is the Timberwolves opener tonight. Basketball is easily my favorite sport, and the Wolves are my favorite team by default, so this is a night that I've been looking forward to for at least 36 hours. It's gonna be a party.

And for those of you basketball skeptics, check this out, yo:

The creation of basketball
I'm very comparative today.

Welcome to the Jungle

We officially made it out of Unfunny October, so now we're into the blissful month of November. Wait, did I say blissful? Beacause I meant freezing. I think I'm going to wrap myself, my car, and my house in blankets wherever I go. I'll probably need a blanket drive, so if anyone's willing to contribute a blanket or two, let me know. I'd also accept blanket-making materials, should you feel like a whole blanket is too much.

This is the kind of blanket I want.  The kind with happy animals that makes me forget that I'm going to freeze to death.

Anyway, I'm going to post again in just a second, so I better get on that.

10.31.2006

My Political Endorsements

With the election one week away and most voters unaware of who's running or what they're about, I've risen to my civic duty to educate the public. And as with most of my civic duties, I will not take this seriously.

For those you not in Minneapolis, you can still learn from the votronic lessons I am about to teach.

You all know about your senate and governor candidates and crap. Those aren't important. But you don't know about who's running for Soil and Water Supervisor or who's doomed to be re-elected to the Apellate Courts. So here's everything you need to know!

Note: These are all taken from the ballot in my precinct and probably do not apply to the rest of you wonderful citizens!

Soil and Water Supervisor in District 2
The ballot as given on the internet says all these candidates are non-partisan, so it's like choosing which kind of unflavored oatmeal you want. Your options are Dan Flo, Phil Willkie, and Ernest K. Lehmann, and none of them offer any information about themselves. Usually I'd pick my guy by who has the most interesting name, but the only interesting name here is too weird. I'll be excercising my write-in option. Please join me in electing Glen Mason.

Soil and Water Supervisor in District 4
This race belongs to John Crampton. Or maybe Steven Jenkins. Just please do not vote for Ryan Wilson. He graduated from Edina (strike one) a year after me (strike two), and he looks doughy (strike three). Also, his most recent job was at a grocery store, so I'm pretty sure he's running as a joke.

Judge for Appeals Court 11
Interesting Minnesota tradition: since the inception of the appeals court in 1983, all appeals judges have been appointed and have to run for re-election for the following term. I assume that's why the vast majority of these guys run unopposed. Dan Griffith, however, opposes incumbent Christopher J. Dietzen and could be the first person elected to this position instead of being appointed. Of course, no one cares.

Judge for 4th District Court 44
I actually sort of care about this race because challenger Dee Rowe graduated from University of Wisconsin-Madison law school.

That's it for actual races, but I would like to encourage all of you to use the following write-in names for candidates who are running unopposed:

JUDGE - COURT OF APPEALS 6: Nigel Tufnel
JUDGE - COURT OF APPEALS 7: David St. Hubbins
JUDGE - COURT OF APPEALS 12: Derek Smalls
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 6: Seymour Butz
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 16: The Keebler Elves
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 17: Mars, god of war
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 22: Back to the Future
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 35: Kit (the car from Knight Rider)
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 39: I know you are, but what am I?
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 40: Takes one to know one
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 45: Lead
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 50: Churches
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 52: Very small stones
JUDGE -4TH DISTRICT COURT 55: A duck

Happy Hallowhen Can I Leave?

When I was drunk in college, I liked Halloween. For the months leading up to Halloween this year, I hated Halloween. Today I'm indifferent.

My attitude toward Halloween changed when somebody at work suggested that we all wear Casual Friday costumes, also known as jeans. I took it one step further and wore a hoodie. I still don't like the idea of Casual Friday, but I like that I don't have to wear stupid khakis. To make matters better, nobody noticed that we're all wearing jeans, so I might just wear jeans tomorrow too.


Other cadidates for the title of this post:
Happy Hallowaste of Time
Happy Hallowhat?
Happy Hallowant Some Popcorn?
Happy Hallowait Here While I Bring the Car Around
Happy Hallowax Museum

10.30.2006

Public Relations

It finally happened. Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillippe broke up. I saw it coming. We all knew from the beginning that she was too good for him. When they had a kid, I thought for a while that they might make. I thought they'd prove to the world that some Hollywood couples can stay together. So much for having faith in movie stars.

The most interesting part of this for me, though, is that their publicist made the announcement of their separation. That seems a little weird, a little artificial; and what if the publicist just decided to mess with people? If I was a publicist, I think I'd do that every now and then.

But this got me thinking. What personal information would I prefer to disseminate through my publicist? Here's a list of candidate bits:

-my new allergies
-my fantasy football record
-my dog's death (only if he died of natural causes)
-when I'm going to the zoo
-the fact that I didn't go to the zoo when my publicist said I would
-the kind of tea that I am currently drinking
-how well I slept last night
-words that I like

I feel like these are all important enough for everyone to know but too sensitive for me to share with everyone myself.

What would you have your publicist say about you?

10.27.2006

Tried to Post This Yesterday

Aren't elephants cool?

This guy's from Africa:
Great posture.

And this one's from 'Nam:
He's sad, but that makes him cute.

I don't really have anything to say about elephants. Um...they can crush things. Oh, here's a joke: what time is it when an elephant sits on your fence? Time to get a new fence! I think there's also a joke about elephants and hot chocolate.

10.24.2006

Life-Changing Event #2

As of twenty minutes ago, I no longer have internet or television reception in my house. I am free, free from the shackles of entertainment and distraction (though I do still have 800 CDs and a large number of movies and TV shows on DVD)!

This was mostly about me saving $60 a month, but I feel like it means more than that. Maybe it means I can do something more with my life than sit on a chair or a couch. I am excited to take advantage of that opportunity.

So now it's like I traveled back in time to the 1920s, though I'd need one of those giant radios to complete the illusion. And then driving to work every day would be like traveling forward in time some 80 years. That would put some strain on the brain. I wonder if I can take it.

10.23.2006

It Is Done

I finished writing my book.

It took two years, and now it's done. A complete story spanning 158 single-spaced pages in Word.

I still have to read it over and make some minor adjustments, but the story is done. The book is done.

I remember when I finished my thesis a year ago. It was a very similar feeling. It's like giving birth (minus the physical everything), I imagine. You spend so much time with this thing inside of you, and when it's out, you feel simultaneously like a better, stronger person and like you're missing something.

But the point is it's done.

10.21.2006

Once-in-a-Lifetime Late-Nite Post

It is nearly 1:30 AM, and I have just arrived home from a triumphant conversation that I must share with the world.

On the drive back from Jodi's house, Corey, Kia and I began a simple conversation about Thai food and how Corey likes it. Then I make my random comment as follows: "I think you can understand a person's development by which variety of Asian food they prefer." Much laughter ensued before we got serious and realized this statement is true.

Let's explore.

People in general enjoy different varieties of Asian foods. There's your Thai, your Vietnamese, your standard Chinese, your Japanese, and your more obscure Mongolian (I'm sorry, we have to exclude Indian because it's a separate subcontinent and a somewhat unrelated taste). It seems that one prefers one variety over another at different stages of life, as each variety thus illustrates that a person is at a specific point of development.*

Here is what we concluded**:
Vietnamese: childhood. It's a generally mild flavor, often sweet, and easily appealing to the undeveloped and immature palate. It goes down easily and presents very little challenge to the digestive system.

Chinese: adolescent. It's one step above Vietnamese as it gets slightly more bitter and textured. The flavor still lacks the fullness of much Asian cuisine, but it opens one's taste up to further development.

Thai: young adult/twenties. The adventurousness of the food coincides with the adventurousness of the individual. The food is not only more spicy, but the flavor is also more robust, vibrant, and varied. It is very similar to the difficult but ultimately fulfilling road to adulthood.

Sushi/Japanese: adult. This is more sophisticated and calm to coincide with the settled or settling mindset of the adult. The restaurants are often more subdued as well. The food befits a very advanced palate and digestive system and often requires a well-traveled eater.

Buffet: senior citizen. We are all familiar with the Chinese buffet, and though it is a necessary part of our diet at any age, it does not become the signature of one's Asian eating until the taste for more authentic food has long since disappeared. The lamp-heated, plastic-looking chicken probably reflects how our seniors feel.

We performed the same experiment with varieties of Mexican restaurant with similar results (children don't eat Mexican, adolescents begin with Taco Bell, young adults graduate to Chipotle/Qdoba, adults end up at Don Pablo's). I may not be a sociologist, but I'd say this discovery is groundbreaking. Bring on the Nobel Prize!


*This is not to say that if a person eats one of these kinds that they are at that level. It goes by general preference. For instance, I may eat Vietnamese, but I prefer Thai.
**The following does not apply to Asian people.

10.19.2006

An American Halloween

According to a bunch of idiots, pirate costumes are going to be hot sellers this year. I'm disappointed. Are there no better ideas out there? Is our culture so depleted, so dull and uncreative that we have to rely on pirates to wow our friends and neighbors?


Probably.

How I Found This Picture of a Cake

Not very appetizing.
As you may have guessed by looking at this picture, I'm very bored today. What you may not know, though, is how I found it. To be honest, I'm not too sure either. I just started clicking on random links through wikipedia. I don't know what I started with, then I got to radioactivity, then something, then something else, then fractions. I probably could have continued and ended up with the Bronx Zoo, but I liked this picture a lot. Mostly cuz it's ugly, and those quarters are uneven.

This gives me an idea for a new game: see how long it takes me to get to the Bronx Zoo from random starting points on wikipedia. We can call it Six Degrees of Bronx Zoo. First try took me almost 20. Went from Nirvana to kilograms to the Cuban Missile Crisis before I finally worked my way to the Bronx Zoo. I wasn't really trying.

What a seriously gross-looking cake, though.

My New Best Friend

My new best friend is named Gary. I don't know what his last name is, but he said his parents named him after Gary Coleman. I laughed when he told me that. Gary frowned, so I kicked him in the shin.

Gary went to community college. He applied to three schools: Harvard, some school in Canada, and this community college. He did it as a joke, but nobody thought it was funny. Now he's really pissed off that he ended up in community college. He said he could have gotten into Ohio State, and I agreed because Ohio State only lets douchebags in. I laughed again and kicked Gary in the shins.

Gary is in a wheelchair.

Gary's favorite movie is The Wizard of Oz. His favorite part is when the Tin Man sings. When I told him the Tin Man was a robot, he had a temper tantrum. It's true, though. He is a robot. There's nothing you can do about it, Gary.

Yesterday Gary went to Spain to visit his brother who's studying abroad, but I switched his ticket to Mongolia and didn't tell him.

10.18.2006

New Blogger Disaster

Blogger's in the process of converting all its functions over to Google Accounts and making it many ways more like wordpress. Unfortunately, only a few blogs are being invited to this new option at a time, and the one of mine that made the change was Flipper's. I brought Flipper back to life yesterday only to screw everything up.

What frustrates me--and I publish this because I need to vent about it--is that I accidentally used my real Google account for my fake blog. Even though I have a fake Google account for my fake blog. And it won't let me change it. And since it's permanently attached to my account, I won't be able to import the real blog to the real account on top of it.

For now, everything's fine (I guess). I guess it just means I'll have to export Flipper's blog and delete it. That'll keep me busy today.

Catholic Disaster

Last night I dreamt that I went to a Catholic mass. I went with somebody who was not Catholic and had no idea what was going on, and that made for some seemingly bizarre incidents. Like when we prayed, this person insisted we all hold hands (which, upon reflection, I realize I've done with actual Catholic people).

The communion was the strangest part, though. Instead of wafers and wine, the communion was given with Teddy Grahams and boiling water served straight from the pot. I used a styrofoam cup for the water, though.

THE END.

10.17.2006

Get Me Out

Today my coworker turned to me to talk about last night's football game. I didn't see it because I don't have cable, but she told me about it anyway. That was fine. But then she started telling me how cute quarterback Matt Leinart is.

This is a problem. I must have been here far too long if my female coworkers think they can chat with me about what football players are cute. Granted, I can discuss the manly charms of Tiki Barber with dudes, but I'm not going to be put in that girlfriend role. That's just weird.

10.16.2006

Melt

I've been hoarding paper clips almost since the day I started working here. I have a decent number--not enough to completely fill my desk drawer but still far too many for me to ever use, especially since I never use paper clips here.

So I just came up with a plan: whenever I quit this job (please, Lord, soon), I'm going to take all the clips I've amassed and possibly some more and melt them down into a little silver ball. I think I'll throw a party. The Melting Party.

Maybe it'll become an annual event. People can bring whatever they want to melt, and we'll melt it all down in a ball. Or we can do a different shape every year. This'll be bigger than high school reunion.

Understanding My Readers

Today I decided to dust off the old site meter and take a look at who is reading Garbage: Left, Recycling: Right (which is becoming a more and more unsatisfactory title). There's not a lot that I didn't expect, aside from the one person who asked google, "Do you have any recycling bens?" and found me. To answer the question, yes I do. I have one. It is me.

Also of note, my popularity is rising in Unknown Country. In the last several days I have had a whopping 8 hits from this enigmatic nation, accounting for nearly one-tenth of my readership. I don't know if these people can speak or read English, if live on land or beneath the sea, or even if they're actually reading my blog. Nonetheless, I appreciate your presence here, anonymous apatriots, and I salute your invisible flag. Mazel tov!

Unspar Editorial: North Korea

A lot of people are talking about North Korea having nuclear weapons, and as my opinion is more valid than most (by virtue of having a blog with an orange background), I thought people should know what I think so they can change their minds.

Point One: Why are we not scared out of our minds? The North Korean ambassador to the UN said upon the approval of the sanctions, "If the United States increases pressure on the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, the DPRK will continue to take physical countermeasures considering it as a declaration of war." HOLY CRAP. Now I'm not one to take the threats of foreigners seriously (he didn't even bang his shoe on his desk), but we might have something to worry about here. Maybe we should bomb them first? That said, I trust President Bush's diplomatic approach and the increased pressure he continues to apply to the DPRK to solve this problem.

Point Two: Why can't North Korea have nuclear weapons? Why can't every country? Whatever happened to freedom and equality? If we really want to liberate these "rogue nations," shouldn't our freedom be an example to them? Sanctions cost this great planet its freedom: its freedom to indiscriminately destroy one another as certain madmen and tyrants see fit. Don't even mention how uncomfortable I am with how arbitrary we are with which countries can have nukes and which can't. I mean, if you want to put the kibosh on the Axis of Evil's nuclear capabilities, fine, I understand. But France? Do our leaders realize the risk their putting us in?

Point Three: Where is North Korea anyway? I couldn't find them anywhere on a map of the Middle East. Maybe I wasn't looking hard enough.

My Proposed Solution: In times of crisis like this, we need to look to the mainstays of our nation's leadership: Hollywood. I say we combine the lessons of Navy Seals, Back to the Future 2, Surf Ninjas, the Bruce Willis collection, and a couple zombie movies. We get Charlie Sheen in a building with Kim Jong-Il, give him a magic Game Gear that can see the future, and travel back in time to stop Biff from stealing the sports almanac, all while fighting off a growing army of zombies. If there's a better way to stop a nuclear apocalypse, I haven't heard of it.

Our Roads Are Ruined

Yesterday, on the outskirts of downtown Minneapolis, I saw a tumbleweed. It lay there in the middle of the street, ready to tumble onward with its metaphorical implications of desolation, while dozens of cars drove on around it. How it ended up in downtown Minneapolis, we'll never know (speculators guessed it fell off the back of a truck, but what would a tumbleweed be doing on the back of a truck?). Perhaps the Coen Brothers are back in town.

Then today on my way to work, traffic was really backed up. Unfortunately, it wasn't the tumbleweed holding things up, but there was "debris on the road" (that's what the big sign said). They closed a lane because of debris? A) We can probably drive on debris, and B) Did we get bombed? Then I discovered that a semi overturned and crashed into the median barrier and knocked chunks of pavement onto a lane. Hence the debris. So if anybody's taking 35W, watch out.

Notice Anything Different?

As of last night at about 10:10, I made a drastic change in my life. It may jar or frighten some of you, so you should probably sit down (but if you're standing while you're at your computer, we have different issues to discuss). Here it is:

I stopped wearing my "One" bracelet.

I wanted to know what it's like to be braceletless again. It's been probably almost two years now, and I can't remember what my right hand looked like without a white band around the wrist. But now that era is over. Now begins the era of liberty! My wrists will run wild and free!

I think my wrists are already growing. Pretty soon I might not be able to touch my thumb and middle finger around them. After that, I might be able to lift things! This is gonna be great!

10.10.2006

In the News

I hear North Korea has nuclear weapons. I find this darkly ironic. Though I find it slightly less ironic when I remember we had a war with them some 50 years ago. Does this mean Iraq will finally have nukes in 50 years? Assuming there's still an Iraq (or an Earth) to speak of at that point, I wouldn't doubt it. If I had a glass of champagne, I would raise it to toast enriched uranium. Cheers.

Apparently there's a study on how women wear more fashionable clothing when they're pregnant. Considering how the vast majority of women at any given time are not pregnant, I don't see how could this could be true. But there's a study. I guess that means I better start shopping at the maternity store. I'm thinking mumu. (Correction: that's fertile women, not pregnant ones. But there's only a small difference, so I'm still getting that mumu.)

And YouTube sold out. I'm surprised Google didn't own it earlier, really. I'm half-expecting Google to travel back in time buy the whole internet. I wonder: How long before Google starts buying the rights to people? Or if not people, meta-people, meaning individual blogs. The bidding on Garbage: Left, Recycling: Right starts at $250,000. That's pretty cheap if you ask me. And it won't be long before I start artificially inflating the value, so better get while the gettin's good.

The Ghost of Myself

Everybody [in the blog world, so nobody real] is talking about what they did this weekend. I feel like I should join in. After all, it's Tuesday, and the weekend is becoming a distant memory to many of us.

Have any of you heard the song "Our Weekend Starts on Wednesday" by Hey Mercedes? I like the song, but it's pretty standard as far as guitar music goes, and by the time it's over you're mostly thankful that only two minutes have passed, but for once I could identify with it. My weekend started on Wednesday.

I took Thursday, Friday, and yesterday (Monday) off because I hadn't taken a day off in what seemed like years. It was a much needed break, during which I did almost nothing. While other "people" had ragers at apple orchards and ate family dinners and lived their tumultuous lives, I watched movies and slept on the couch. I also went to a wedding, planned a bachelor party, and dropped a grand on some new bling, but that stuff isn't important. The sleeping and movies part was easily the highlight.

And that's why I haven't had an entry in five days. Maybe now that I'm awake, I can start talking about interesting things. Unlikely, but we can always hope. I suggest you start engineering interesting things to happen to me. I've never had a dead pigeon thrown at me from a moving car....

10.04.2006

Emergen-C

'Tis the season to start getting sick again. I almost have my first cold of the season, but I might have caught it early. Right now it's just an itch in the back of my throat, so if I use the right combat tactics, I'll feel fine tomorrow morning.

My first attack was this little powder packet of vitamin C called "Emergen-C." All you have to do is mix it in water and drink. Pretty easy.

The thing that amazes me about this thing is the nutrition label on the back. This little packet has 1,000 mg of vitamin C, accounting for 1,667% of your daily value. I have enough vitamin C in me now to last me almost 17 days! It also includes 500% of B6 and 417% of B12. I'll be sure to have another before I go.

10.02.2006

Parallel Lives

Unfunny October has begun, and after Day 1's horrifying racist jokes, Day 2 brings confusing birthday coincidences.

October 2nd is the day on which we celebrate the birthday of both Gandhi and Groucho Marx. They were born a mere 21 years apart, though I doubt Gandhi was getting drunk with his bros while Groucho's bespectacled, mustached, and cigar-chomping mug emerged from his mother's womb.

Just think about it. While Groucho was making Duck Soup, Gandhi was on a hunger strike. When Groucho said, "I don't want to belong to any club that would have me as a member," Gandhi was probably on another hunger strike. And while Groucho was celebrating his birthday, Gandhi was celebrating his (though he had to abstain from cake, I assume).

Monumental world figure and crusader for independence born alongside a comedian. It's fitting in a post-modern, 21st-century way. Too bad they were both born in the 19th century. And if they were alive today, they'd be very old. Together.

9.29.2006

Friday Sucks

When I got here this morning, I greeted one of my coworkers with a, "Good morning!" She responded saying, "Happy Friday," and I said, "And it is a happy one, isn't it?"

What fools were we.

Today is easily the worst day of work ever. I have had two of the messiest, most difficult critical incidents (that's what I work with) ever, and on top of that, our company's redesign is hugely flawed, and we're really feeling those flaws in our call organization today. From 9:30-11, I had three very stressful issues freaking me out with force.

Now I'm not an easily stressed person. It takes a lot to shake me up. But this week has me completely fried. Thankfully I only have a three day week next week, but that still might be difficult. Here's what I believe I need to make it through to next weekend:

-Breakfast in bed at least once, preferably twice.
-A couple good foreign films (oddly the most comforting cinema around)
-Tea party.
-Up to, but no more than, three hours in a library or book store.
-A walk around the lakes or anywhere with fresh air and colored leaves.
-Many good naps.
-Lots of classical music.

At least my brain's not on fire, right?

I Respect You, Car

Much too often when we're driving do we get stuck behind the putzes. They're going five mph under the limit, and they don't know they're pissing everybody off. Usually I get frustrated at these drivers, but today I recited this little ditty to myself to help me deal with it:

I respect your speed, car. You don't care that other people want to go faster and speed by you in disgust. They're the jerks, not you. You're calm and composed. You, madam, are the queen of the road.

And then I was really really happy when she took the next exit.

9.28.2006

The Return of Funny

I predict October will be the least funny month of my existence. It will be cold, and the cold isn't funny; it might be darker more often, and that's really not funny; and Halloween isn't funny at all. We've got 31 of the blandest days to look forward to, people. Hooray.

There are a few other unfunny months that were in the running, but I don't think they'll hold a candle to October 2006. There was September 2001, the first month of college, when I could laugh with no one, but that was merely the absence of funny, not its severe decline. Then there was January 2005, in which I lost my first fantasy football league. And let's not forget October 1997, the year of my freshman homecoming disaster.

Looks like all these non-funnies happen in the bleak months of the year. So basically we're screwed til next April. Until then,

At the Upside-Down Clown Pride Parade

My Worst Nightmare

Last night I had the most terrifying dream I've ever had. What could be so scary, you ask? An art exhibit. I'm not talking "Night Gallery" here but actual museum art.

In my dream I went to see a Silence of the Lambs art exhibit, or so it was called. I walked through a door and entered a very large room with art on all the walls. The room was completely silent, and no one else was there. All the art works were portraits in pencil, and the all vaguely resembled Hannibal Lector, though I thought they were all different people.

That was it. And I was horrified. I was too scared to go back to sleep. But I did anyway.

9.27.2006

Connie Chung

Remember when Connie Chung was a big deal? She was a superstar anchor on CNN, had her own interview hour called The Connie Chung Interview (I think), and then there was A Connie Chung Christmas, but now she's gone. She got pregnant and disappeared. How does that happen?

Part of my interest is that Connie Chung is a funny name, and part of my interest is that it's so bizarre. It belongs on Unsolved Mysteries. Famous anchorwoman suddenly vanishes from the face of the earth. Makes me think no famous anchorwomen are safe. Katie Couric, watch out.

9.26.2006

The Mind of Jeshurun

I don't know if any of read Jess's blog, but his latest entry is definitely a fun read. Jess is a pretty creative guy, so he's got a lot of enjoyable ideas on that blog of his.

So this entry is a myth about the creation of alcohol. Myths have always intrigued me but not because I'm interested in the stories. I love them because I always wonder how big the gods are. Like with Promoetheus, the god who brought fire to man, I imagine this 200-ft-tall giant jumping off a cloud and handing a giant torch to a dirty, thick-bearded caveman. Of course the caveman is too small to carry it, so he inadvertently burns his village down. In Jess's story, I imagined this giant Hugh with a giant goblet full of booze just pouring his goblet out on everyone while they stand below with their mouths open. But too much comes down and destroys their civilization and washes them out to sea. That's probably what happened to Atlantis.

Anyway, gods are big, and if I ever met one, I think I'd be really intimidated. And then I'd be crushed like an ant.

9.25.2006

Behind a Truck

Today I am very tired. I feel like my brain disappeared. Or maybe it got heavier. Either way, I can't think and don't want to.

On my drive to work, I got behind a truck. I was too tired to change lanes, so I just stuck it out, despite the fact that the truck could only go 30-40 miles per hour. It was a strange experience, to go that slow and not get frustrated. And then when the truck changed lanes, I felt sad. I didn't want to go faster, but I had to. Kind of like I didn't want to get out of bed, but I had to. Perhaps today I'm behind a metaphorical truck?

I don't care that this entry sucks.

9.23.2006

3 Days Later

My apartment still smells like the falafel I made three whole days ago. This is not right. They sound-proofed the place so I don't hear the airplanes, but that shouldn't make it smell-proofed too. Sure, I could open the windows, but then it'll get cold and I'll hear the airplanes again. There's no solution. I'm doomed.

But seriously now, can anybody explain to me why my apartment clings to its smells for so long? This hasn't happened anywhere else I've lived. Maybe it's just the weatherstripping is better here.

9.22.2006

Giraffe Hunting

Does anybody ever go giraffe hunting? It seems insanely cruel, which is why I wonder that I've never heard the hippies complain about it. Elephants seem like they don't take poaching that seriously, like it's just a natural part of the elephant life, but with giraffes it seems like a seriously terrible thing to do. What human being would kill a giraffe?

On the other hand, what would keep people from killing giraffes? Their necks? I guess it may make the carcasses a little difficult to move. Maybe their spots camoflauge them really well, and the poachers just can't find them.

No, I think I figured it out. Giraffes are immortal. Think about it. When was the last time you saw a dead giraffe? Never! I did a google image search (one of my new favorite pasttimes) for "dead giraffe," and all that came up were pictures of living giraffes. And then there was this one:

Hey Idiot

I'm Just Here for the Free Cake

This actually happened.

There is cake on the table near my pod at work. Some stranger comes up and helps himself to it.
STRANGER: Good morning!
MY COWORKER: Yeah, it's Friday!
STRANGER: This cake looks delicious.
MY COWORKER: It is. I love cheesecake.
STRANGER: Whose birthday is it?
MY COWORKER: Lisa's.
STRANGER: Tell her I say happy birthday when she gets back.
MY COWORKER: Wait, who are you?
STRANGER: I'm Dan.
MY COWORKER: Do you work here?
STRANGER: Not as such.
MY COWORKER: What are you doing here?
STRANGER: I'm in town for the weekend from Toronto, and I heard you had some free cake.
MY COWORKER: How did you get in here?
MY OTHER COWORKER: Cut him some slack, there's plenty of cake.
STRANGER: Thanks.
MY COWORKER: You should leave.
STRANGER: I can't.
MY COWORKER: Why not?
STRANGER: I'm still eating my cake.
Silence
STRANGER: (with mouth full of cake) This weather sure sucks, huh?

Cat on Phone

I don't know why I found this. I just did a google image search for "cat on phone," and this is what it showed me. I was actually surprised by the very small number of pictures of real cats holding phones. This was the only one. Am I the only person who thinks that's weird?


I like this one cuz the cat has one paw over the talking end, like he has to say something to someone in the room. The way he's looking at the camera, he's like, "Hey photographer, it's for you." Either that or, "Look at me, I'm on the phone!" and then back to the phone call, "What's that you say Mr. Sugarbottom?"

A Network of Nonsense

Yesterday I got a little toy astronaut for a gift. But this isn't a story about how I got, it's a story about what happened afterwards.

This astronaut comes from a company called Ticomix, and there's a website printed on the astronaut for me to check out. So I checked it out. I half-expected it to be some corporate comic book ("Ticomix" = "Ty Comics"?). I mean, the astronaut carries a wrench and has claws; maybe that's his superpower? Failing that, I figured it had to be some sort of pharmaceutical product. I was wrong on both counts.

Ticomix is in all probability a ghost company or a money-laundering front. Their slogan is "A network of solutions," which is exactly like saying, "We don't do anything." If they actually do something, most of the people who work there probably don't know what it is. Things they "do" include "data conversions" and "technical system evaluation," and one of their products is called "gismo." Not making this up. I almost wish they would at least pretend they were a real company, but that wouldn't be as entertaining.

The astronaut is part of a program they have that simulates Apollo 13. Like they make people play Houston and try to get the astronauts back home alive. It looks like work groups or schools go to wherever-this-place-is and Ticomix throws them in a room and says, "You have 10 hours before your astronauts die. Good luck." It's supposed to be a learning experience. And it costs $250, which supposedly saves you $450. I'm sorry, but if I'm spending $250, I am saving nothing. They better give everybody a puppy for that kind of entry fee. A space puppy, actually.

They have a customer quote on their website from the Rock Valley Federal Credit Union that says, "You and your staff have done a wonderful job and I look forward to our ongoing relationship." This is the kind of thing you say to a janitor. Or a mob boss. But I think that devalues what janitors and mob bosses do for our society.

This astronaut toy is seriously making my day, though.

9.20.2006

An Ode to Montana

O, Montana, fair land of...something,
I don't really know what you're about,
but who does, I guess.
I think you have some mountains,
Maybe on your western side;
I assume that's what makes the border
Between you and Idaho.
How is Idaho, by the way?
I remember that I used to think
Mt. St. Helens was part of your land
Because your capital is Helena,
But now I realize I was mistaken,
Though I would probably like you more
If you had some volcanoes.
I don't even know where Helena is,
Come to think of it,
But I'm not that surprised.
I wonder if anybody lives there.
I just looked it up: 25 thousand.
There are more people in Richfield,
But there might be fewer in Wyoming.
I'll give you that, Montana.
You're better than Wyoming.

9.18.2006

Socks are Complicated

In Madison there's this homeless guy who if you give him money, he'll tell you a joke. Great guy. He once told me this joke:

HE: Do your socks have holes in them?
ME: Um...no.
HE: Then how'd you get them on?

I didn't laugh, or maybe I laughed politely. I don't remember. Either way, that joke was not funny. Plus I lied. My socks have tons of holes in them.

I imagine two possible variations on this joke.

HE: Do your socks have holes in them?
ME: Yes.
HE: Oh.

Or...

HE: Do your socks have holes in them?
ME: Yeah, tons.
HE: Me too, man.
ME: It's a hard life.
HE: You bet it is.

I would have laughed much more at either of those. Great guy, though.

9.16.2006

Dear Diary

Went for a bike ride today. Saw at least one interesting sight. A woman was taking her two dogs for a walk, only one of them was in a stroller. A sheltie. I half-expected the dog to be on top of a baby because, really, who puts a dog in a stroller? No baby, though.

Butt got really sore.

Sincerely,
Ben

9.14.2006

The Manitoban Invasion

I've seen a lot of Manitoba license plates on cars lately. I average at least one a week, maybe two. I see more of these than Wisconsin license plates it seems. At first I was pleasantly surprised at the novelty, then I was fascinated by their continued appearance, and now I'm very much afraid.

We can safely assume that the number of Manitobans I've encountered is only a sample of the number actually in Minnesota. I would estimate that my sightings account for only 5% of all Manitobans within our state bounds, meaning that there could be as many as 500 Manitobans here to threaten our peace and security.

We're doomed.
As this map demonstrates, Manitoba is using Minnesota as a staging ground for an all-out invasion of our entire country.

Unless we can stop this menace soon, we face an inevitable destruction the likes of which we've never seen. Imagine a United States dominated by central Canadians. Imagine your worst nightmare multiplied by ten thousand. That's what we're heading for. I suggest we move to Mexico while we still can.

9.12.2006

Qwerty

I am now absolutely convinced that the "qwerty" style keyboard is actually some elaborate code system. Whoever invented it arranged the letters in a particular way so that you have to learn a custom-tailored typing method, but these diabolical geniuses arranged the letters in such a way that if you move your hands to different places on the keyboard, you would be able to type out some kind of Nazi code.

I have yet to discover what the hand placement for the code is, and I'm afraid that without the original encoded message to translate, I won't be able to figure it out. So we are almost definitely in the hands of some clandestine, evil organization that is operating right beneath our noses, and there is nothing we can do about it.

9.11.2006

The Food Chain

Inspired by my brief philosophical venture on "the source of all our troubles," I bring you...

The Food Chain




Let's discuss. We begin on the right with "fungus." This "fungus" is the initial source of all human unhappiness and dissatisfaction in that it is ugly and probably smells bad. You can find "fungi" in abundance in the American South, Canada, Africa, and Eastern Europe.

The chain moves from there to "poop," also known as "feces." How does "fungus" bring us to "feces"? It begins with the fungus' constant rumination on itself as the root cause of all human misery, and ends when that thought process naturally brings us to a pile of poop. As the arrow suggests then, the fungus eats the feces. Or maybe it's the feces eats the fungus. I don't remember. Something gets consumed, though. It'd be gross if somebody was eating poop.

In step three, we encounter "mouse" and "corn," the treacherous twin brothers of the food chain. They tend to deceive their simple predecessors "fungus" and "feces" with riddles and mind games. It's often a cruel battle of wits that mouse and corn rarely lose. This stage usually ends with the feces being absorbed through the mouse's skin or corn's husk, contributing to a stronger, more fearsome duo.

Stage four, also known as the Apocalpyse Stage of the food chain, happens when "mouse" and "corn" have become massive beyond belief. At this point the sun spawns "firecat," a supernatural animal of uncanny power and speed. Firecat battles mouse and corn in the far reaches of space, often across many galaxies. The battle can last as long as 50 billion years, depending on the weather. If firecat wins, it eats both mouse and corn in triumph, thus giving the food chain its title of "food chain." Historical note: in all the previous cylces of the food chain, firecat has never lost.

We begin again with the ensuing death of the firecat. The firecat cannot live very long after the epic space battle with mouse and corn because it gets very bored. Observers tend to get bored as well. The transition from firecat to fungus has therefore never been documented.

Angry

Where the HECK are my M&Ms! I had a candy dish on my desk FULL of M&Ms not FIVE MINUTES AGO, and now they're GONE! I am TEED OFF. Somebody better buy me some more M&Ms or I am going to BURN THIS BUILDING DOWN.

No, I will NOT take Skittles! What kind of joke is this? Skittles? I think it's pretty clear from my hissy fit that I demand the delight of milk chocate that melts in your mouth not in your hand, not some stupid chewy fruit CRAP. GET THE HECK AWAY FROM ME!

Do you people even remember what happened on 9/11? This is why the terrorists attacked us: because we have unlimited access to M&Ms. Are you going to defend the terrorists and let my M&Ms remain stolen? I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS! NEVER FORGET!

That's it. I'm getting the flamethrower. If my M&Ms aren't melting in my mouth in three GOSH-DARNED seconds, they'll be melting in your charred and burning hand. So help me, I tried to avoid incinerating you, but you had to be a terrorist about it.

9.08.2006

How an Ostrich Lives

I've noticed a couple "controversies" afflicting our "world" these past couple days. I'm pretty sure you all expect I don't care, and you're right, so in the interests of not caring, here's my two cents on the issues of our hour.

Tony Blair's resignation: I like this idea. We've had to deal with a tall British ninny long enough. It's time we cycled in the fat British blowhard. Vive la France!

The Facebook Privacy Scandal: Um, can't their friends see all that stuff on their profiles anyway? My suggestion to the paranoid facebookers out there: take about 30 minutes out of your day to chill out, breathe deep, and OH MY GOD WHO IS THAT AT YOUR WINDOW?!?!?!!

American Idol in Minneapolis: Maybe that's why I haven't had any problems with traffic this week.

Who Gets the Leftover Pizza?: I don't care what Dan says, that pizza was mine.

9.07.2006

The Rumors of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

I don't post for six days--not even a week--and people start to think I'm dead. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm still alive. Contrary to what you might think, the human body can survive for up to six weeks without water (I think) and up to eight months without food (that's just a guess), so I would assume that someone could go somewhere around 600 BILLION YEARS without the internet.

Now I suggest you look at the last six days in this light: had I posted, it would have been nothing like the vintage Ben you've come to expect from me. The quality of those posts would have ranged somewhere around the humor level of Garfield or Boy George. You're better off this way.

9.01.2006

Three Hours To Kill

Author's note: This is much longer than I expected it to be and much less funny than usual, so you don't need to read the whole thing.

Ben, assassin, walks along a street, enjoying the afternoon sun on a day in which he presumes he doesn't have to kill anybody. But then he gets bored and decides to go on a mission to...kill three hours.

Hour One: Two O'clock
He could already sense his first target and knew it must be nearby. He knew it would be an easy kill too, as Two O'clock tended to be in public places with its guard down. Ben scanned the streets around him, and then he caught sight of it across the street from him, strolling and whistling like there wasn't a care in the world. Ben crossed the street at the next crosswalk, careful not to draw attention to himself, and gradually snuck up behind Two. When they passed by an alleyway, Ben grabbed him by the back of his collar and threw him next to a dumpster.
"Your time's up, Two O'clock," Ben growled.
"No, please! I have money! Here, take it all!" Two pleaded.
"Not this time."
Ben drew his gun and fired two shots at the hour. Two collapsed by the side of the dumpster, and Ben disappeared out the back of the alley.

Hour Two: Three O'clock
Ben figured Two's brother Three might be a little more elusive. Three preferred the solace of obscure and shadowy locales where he wasn't noticed. Unfortunately for him, Ben knew the ins and outs of his gang well enough to extract some information.
A few kids had just finished a game of basketball and a local street court. They stood to the side, gathering their things, and chatting about the game to wrap up. Ben recognized two of Three's thugs, the cousins Three O'Five and Three O'Six. As Ben strolled up to them, they recognized him too and took off running. Ben ran after them, chasing them around corners and through the neighborhood. O'Five eventually lost one of his shoes, which he never finished tying, and Ben caught up to him. He shoved him onto the ground and held him there with his foot on his chest.
"Where's your boss?" Ben demanded.
O'Five spat at Ben's face. "Go to hell."
Ben pressed harder with his foot and O'Five yelled. "You're gonna tell me what I want to know."
"My cousin's gonna get to him before you do."
"I'm gonna find your cousin and kill him if you don't tell where I can find Three O'Clock."
O'Five whimpered. "You wouldn't."
Ben pulled out his gun. "Maybe I'll just kill you instead."
"OK, I'll tell you where he is! Apple Blossom Park, he plays chess with the old people."
Ben lifted his foot up, and O'Five ran off. Ben didn't expect O'Five to tell him the truth, so he decided he could follow him to his target. He caught a taxi and trailed O'Five from a distance.
Sure enough, O'Five ended up at Apple Blossom Park and went straight to the chess boards. Ben got out of the taxi and paid the driver with an ample tip. He walked stealthily over the shuffleboard courts but directed his attention to O'Five and the chess player he whispered to. When he saw the chess player get up and excuse himself from the game, Ben drew his gun and fired into the crowd. Three and his henchman ran off while everyone else ducked down to the ground.
Ben ran after his targets, and lucky for him Three O'Clock couldn't make a fast getaway. Ben nailed him once in the back, and he fell face forward onto the street. O'Five kept running but turned back when he saw his boss go down. Ben walked up slowly, and when he was close enough for a point blank shot, he put one in O'Five's leg.

Hour Three: Four O'Clock
Four O'Clock was the king of them all. Some unoriginal members of the gang called him the Godfather, but it was more accurate to call him the Grandfather. He was the oldest of the bunch, and he practically lived out of the family's watch shop. So Ben knew where to find him, he just needed to figure out how to take him out.
The best way to approach--the only way--was in plain view through the front door. Ben made his presence known, and he kept his hands in plain view for the bodyguards. They patted him down at the entrance and, finding no weapons, let him in.
The Grandfather sat at a table in the middle of the store as if he was expecting Ben. "Sit," he invited.
Ben accepted the invitation but kept a sinister look on his face.
"You've come a long way, today, Benno."
"It's all part of the day's work."
"Do you know why I let you in here?"
"No."
"I am most displeased at your treatment of my family. I am not one to take this sort of treatment lightly."
"What are you saying?"
"Don't worry, you're perfectly safe. I don't kill people in my shop. Consider this a warning."
"Do you know why I came here?"
Four laughed. "Don't patronize me. Either you cease immediately your vendetta against us, or you face the consequences. Do you hear me?"
Ben slid his watch off his wrist. "My dad bought this watch here twenty years ago, I believe."
"Yes, I remember your father."
"And your goons killed him twelve years ago."
"I was sorry to do it, but considering the state of his affairs, it was unavoidable."
"You can take the watch back. I won't be needing it." And with that Ben stood up.
"I've spoken my peace. I hope our next meeting is more under more felicitous circumstances."
"I doubt it," Ben said under his breath.
Ben left the store and walked across the street. Behind him in the shop, the watches clicked away the few remaining seconds before five o'clock. When they reached five, one of them stopped. Ben's watch. The building exploded. Ben smirked and kept walking.

8.31.2006

Cave Adventure

Ben is wandering through a cave with a torch.

BEN: Wow, this cave is dark. Thank goodness for this torch.

Dracula suddenly appears.

DRACULA: Bleh! What are you doing in my cave?
BEN: I was driving along, and I saw this cave, so I figured I'd check it out.
DRACULA: OK, that makes sense, I suppose.... Then where did you get that torch?
BEN: From the guy selling torches back there.
DRACULA: I see. ... Perhaps I shall suck his blood.
BEN: Um...he said he didn't have any.
DRACULA: Any blood?
BEN: Yeah, that's right.
DRACULA: Did he say where it went?
BEN: Not really, no.
DRACULA: Hmm...is there something you're not telling me?
BEN: Uh....
DRACULA: You didn't take it, did you?
BEN: No, um, I think he said it went on vacation.
DRACULA: Drat!
BEN: Yeah, sorry.
DRACULA: Are you sure he said "vacation" and not "train station"?
BEN: Moderately sure. I guess you could go down to the train station and check.
DRACULA: No, it would probably be gone by the time I got there.
BEN: Yes, the trains do run promptly in this country.
DRACULA: That's very true. Our public works system is quite admirable.
BEN: See, at least you got that, right?
DRACULA: You're right. Though I would prefer blood.
BEN: You can have my torch if you want.
DRACULA: Why, thank you!
BEN: SIKE!

8.30.2006

Evening Naps

I just woke up, and it's dark outside.

I'm guessing a few of you know the incredibly disorienting feeling of falling asleep while it's still light out and waking up when it's dark. It feels like whole days have passed. At least I don't have a long, white beard. I can be grateful for that.

I suddenly have no idea what to do with my life. Sleep does terrible things to a man.

A Lunch That Will Live in Awesomeness

Had a great lunch today with a trio of friends, and it was great. We had a lot of laughs about basketball, $5 dates, and Challenge Printing, but I think we can all agree that the highlight of the lunch was my spicy chicken tender wrap.

It's only the second wrap I've ever had, and I think I'm in love with them. The combination of delicious meat, fresh lettuce, sprouts, onions, and salad dressing can't be found anywhere else (other than perhaps a salad or soup), and then it's all wrapped up for you in a tortilla! Perfect!

The other three got paninis, and they're all right, I guess. I can dig a grilled sandwich every now and then. But it falls short of the majesty of a wrap. The wrap is crisp and energizing, but the panini is soggy and full of mushrooms. The panini is the lowly Sancho Panza to the wrap's noble Don Quixote.

Literary references and delicious food together at last! Best lunch yet!

8.29.2006

Because I'm Smarter Than You

I get the sense that a few "intellectuals" out there need to be taken down a notch. Chances are, you're not as smart as you think you are, buddy, so you stop spouting it out your pie-hole. That's right, I'm talking YOU, smart guys:

Albert Einstein: I find it personally insulting that you imply time travel is possible without building us a time machine. You say you want to revolutionize science, but then you quit halfway. I know another guy who did that. His name was Bill Buckner. You, Einstein, are the Bill Buckner of physics.

Stephen Hawking: If you're so smart, how come you can't move your legs? Hey, look at my legs move! Look at 'em! They must be smarter than yours cuz they know how to move!

Al Gore: I gotta say, it takes a monumentally incompetent person to lose an election that he technically won. And I'm not even going to get into the paradox of guesting on Futurama but not The Simpsons. You may be right about global warming, but that doesn't cut the mustard in this intellectual community.

Leonard da Vinci: While "art" rhymes with "smart," the two are completely unrelated in every other conceivable way. I know you did science stuff too, but a helicopter bike? Get real, pal. That code, on the other hand, is pure genius. Unfortunately for you, the credit for that goes to Dan Brown.