There and back again: A Ryder brothers' tale

Yeah, I used it again, Scott. Kill me.

Well, we made it. Barely. 3 solid days of driving, 2 super cheap hotels and 1 narrowly dodged bullet of a snowstorm later, we're back safe and sound in the grand state of Illinois. I could give you a blow by blow account of the whole trip, but honestly, most of it was just...well, driving. Not that cool. But there were some scattered moments of hilarity, which I now present to you in the amazing quote list for what was dubbed the...

Return of the "R" Tour 2004

(Doing the crossword in People)
Tim: Patrick or Rod...
Josh: Swayze!
Tim: Wow.

(Still doing the crossword)
T: 3 letters - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was one. Abbreviation.
J: Black.
T: And how would you like me to abbreviate that?
J: B-L-K.
T: Wow.

(A gas station in Massachusetts)
Woman: (noticing our Illinois license plate) You boys sure are a long way from home!
T: Yeah, and we're headed back there.
J: Don't worry, we've got everything UNDER CONTROL!!

Okay, this isn't that funny on paper, but it was simply the strangest response possible on Josh's part. He said it like he was trying to convince himself that everything was under control. I'm sure the nice lady assumed everything was fine. Josh just apparently thought she needed extra convincing. Let's move on.

J: Have we gone through New Jersey yet?
T: We go through New Jersey?
J: Yeah, just barely.
T: See, that's why I don't look at the route beforehand. I like to be surprised.
(We never went through New Jersey.)

J: (finishes pumping gas) Warm up the car, T. (goes into the gas station)
T: Okay. (also enters the gas station)
J: What are you doing?
T: When I said okay, what I really meant was that I was coming in here to buy some juice.

J: That's a nice house. I'd like to climb the outside.
T: Doesn't look like it would be very...workout-y.
J: Excuse me?
T: Probably wouldn't give you a good workout.
J: No, what you said the first time.
T: Uh...workout-y.

J: You can't take compass readings inside the car because all the magnets in the speakers screw everything up.
T: There are magnets in speakers?
J: Yeah.
T: ...I don't know how anything works.

(Late in the drive of Day 2)
T: (quite loopy at this point) Just hold me. Tell me everything will be okay.
J: That's it, we're stopping.

(Morning of Day 3, J is at the window of the Super 8.)
J: Wow.
T: (groggily) What?
J: I'll just let you see for yourself.
T: (goes to window) Holy geez. We've been blizzard-ed.

J: Pack up, we're going to make a break for it.
T: Don't kid yourself, we're not going anywhere. We're going to die here. We're going to DIE HERE, JOSH!!

T: How much snow do you think was on the ground this morning?
J: 6 inches, maybe.
T: Yeah...I'm going to say a foot and a half. It sounds better.
J: That's 16 inches!
T: 18, actually.
J: ...right.

Parts of Indiana and Ohio got over a foot of snow that day. Turns out waking up to 6 inches and an unplowed Super 8 parking lot wasn't so bad. As we drove west, we got away from the snow and narrowly dodged a bullet that could have DESTROYED Christmas. So we're back in J-ville with the family. Hope you're with yours, enjoying the holiday. Merry Christmas, everybody.


Look out, Eastern Seaboard!

That's a funny term, isn't it? Seaboard? Why is that stretch of our country referred to as a "seaboard"? Honestly, what's the deal with the seaboard? And...we're done.

Anyway, I'm headed out to the Eastern Seaboard today. I've got a one-way ticket to Boston, which sounds a lot cooler than it is. I'm not headed there to look for my fortune or strike gold or anything. Just picking up my bro and driving back. That's right, we're driving from Boston to Springfield, Illinois. The ultimate road trip. Only with none of the usual road trip trappings like hot girls or warm weather. Or really any stops of any kind. I'm going to see if I can totally avoid touching the ground between there and here. Or at least avoid treading on the soil of any red states.

So hope for the best as Josh and I embark on what I have tenatively named The "We'll Be Home for Christmas Tour 2004." I've made mix CDs, so we should be okay. Those are much more important than maps, right?


Mini what now?

I meet a lot of interesting people at my internship. Young, creative, professional people for the most part. But so far my favorite person is one that I haven't even met. Every so often we get a new phone list at the office to represent anyone who might have been added or removed. A while ago, one of those lists contained what I believe to be the greatest name ever:

Mini Shanmuganandan.

Go on, try to say it. It's fun. I always end up adding about eight extra syllables on the end. I never really stop, I just trail off into a neverending string of Muganandan-an-dana-dan-dan-dans...

And the fact that her first name is Mini only compounds the hilarity. The idea that somewhere there might exist a larger, full-size Shanmuganandan is simply breathtaking.

Unfortunately, after about two weeks of laughing at her name on the phone list, we got a new one with her name absent. I have no idea what she did here or why she left, but things just aren't the same without her around. Or at least without her name on the phone list. I'm actually pretty glad I never met Mini, because there's no way I would be able to talk to her without cracking up. I guess I'll never know...

In other news, if you haven't seen this week's Strong Bad e-mail, you owe it to yourselves. Maybe it won't be as funny to someone who doesn't work at a college radio station, but it's funny how the world (or at least Strong Bad) perceives the genre. You know who loves college radio?

Mini Shanmuganandan-dan-a-dan-danan-dan-adan...


I was right. I didn't care.

Hey, thanks for all the great album recommendations, everybody. I think my list agrees with a few of your choices, but for the most part I told you and your musical opinions to take a hike. Seriously, you and your opinions could use the fresh air. So, without further adieu, here's my list:

1) Straylight Run - s/t
2) Various Artists - Garden State Soundtrack
3) Jimmy Eat World - Futures
4) The Killers - Hot Fuss
5) The Western Front - Go to Your Desire; Don't Hang Around Here.

I'm assuming that most of you haven't heard of the last band, seeing as they're a local Iowa band and I only know them because they played in our Battle of the Bands. You should check out their purevolume site. Anyone with a song that shares its title with a quote from "It's a Wonderful Life" is okay by me.

Okay, let the Tim-bashing begin.


I'll listen to your opinions, but I probably won't care

As the music director of a college radio station that no one listens to, mainly because it doesn't even have a frequency, I often think myself more important than I actually am. But it appears someone agrees with me.

I got an e-mail this past week from Kyle Munson, music critic/columnist for The Des Moines Register. Actually, KDCS Bulldog Radio got the e-mail, but anything music is my domain, foo. So back off. In it, he said that he was preparing for his year-end wrap up and was looking to hear from various other people with "deeply held convictions about music." He then asked for my top 5 albums of 2004.

Several hours later, I awoke in a daze. The sheer power and perceived influence I felt at that one moment had apparently overwhelmed my nervous system and I failed to maintain biological homostasis. In other words, I fainted like a little girl. But now I was beside myself with joy and also, trepidation. This is quite a bit of pressure. My musical opinions published for the world (well, Greater Des Moines area) to see, my very self laid bare for ridicule and scorn. What do I do? Do I go with my gut and talk about my favorite albums? Do I pick five random indie albums from our collection in a desperate grab for street cred?

This incredible dilemma has not yet been resolved. I think my list is almost solid and settled, but I need to hear from my favorite Internet people before I make up my mind. So hit me - what have your favorite albums been this year? And apparently, live and reissued albums count, if that's your sort of thing. And remember, my life depends on this.

Okay, not really. But the fact that I've thought more about this than any of my projects due this week probably says something about my priorities.


More lessons learned

It's been requested that I sum up my Thanksgiving break in much the same manner as my epic Labor Day posting. Well, I can't promise the moon, but let it never be said that Timmy Tapeworm is a man who does not honor requests. (Except for that one request you made over break, Scotty. I know it was the day after Thanksgiving and you were still tanked, but that was just uncalled for. Honestly, I don't care how much time the doctors say you have left, I'm not doing that.)

So here we go...the lessons I learned this Thanksgiving break:

- All it takes are some terribly snowy roads for me to turn into a Hollywood stunt driver. I did a 540. On the highway. A 540. With nary a scratch on me or the Stallion. The old girl held up quite nicely. Except for that whole 540 thing. That probably never should have happened.

- I love my brother more than his girlfriend does. I know this because when he was leaving his plane and called our respective cell phones, his girlfriend didn't answer her phone. I did. Who loves you more, baby?

- My mom is the most hilarious mom ever. Her sign to greet Josh at the airport: "Snow glad you made it." Hilarious.

- Sleep is awesome. I really should do it more.

- Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic is awesome. It gets in the way of that sleep thing. (Yeah, I know I'm a year behind in my gaming. Cut me some slack.)

- Thanksgiving at the Ryder family farm with no electricity probably would have worked, but not very well. Josh and I could have made a spit and roasted the turkey rotisserie style. There just would have been less true enjoyment of the food and much more...salmonella poisoning. But this year proved we can have Thanksgiving anywhere, just so long as there's family, fun, and that pretzel strawberry stuff.

- Strangely, one of my favorite Thanksgiving dishes is the nachos and cheese available pre-meal. That...really makes no sense.

- If, during the two hours you spend in a social setting, the only words that escape your mouth the entire time all involve alcohol, you might have a problem. (This is not directed at my family. We don't have anyone like that, now that Dad's out of the legislature. Hey-oh! Just joking, Dad. This is directed at an old high school acquaintance. Who apparently really enjoys drinking now.)

- My nipple hair is amazingly long. I didn't really learn that over break, but I just noticed it and thought I'd share.

- The Battle of the Sexes grudge match proved once and for all...that guys are smarter than girls. The girls may complain about the overabundance of fishing questions, but come on. I knew the author of She's Come Undone in less than a second. (Wally Lamb. Mom watches Oprah, okay? I absorbed it through osmosis.) So don't complain to me about your hard "guy" questions.

- Finding a Christmas tree with the family is just as hilarious as ever, and having my brother's girlfriend along gives me someone else to push around. You're lucky the ground was soggy, bro. You and your girly would have gone down.

Alright, that's enough of that nonsense. To the friends and family I saw over break, it was great to see you. To those of you I didn't, what's your excuse? "Oh, I live in Florida." Lame excuse, Gramma. Lame excuse.

(I just called my Gramma out. How funny is that?) Anyway, thanks for the great break, everybody. What do you say we have another one? Say...in a couple weeks. Only much longer this time. I've got some serious Star Wars to play.


Don't fail this, fool.

I've developed a two-tiered test for determining how smart people are.

1) If someone knows "media" is plural, they're smart. ex. "The media are biased, but toward sensationalism, not any political mindset."

2) If someone knows "data" is plural, they're really smart. ex. "The data show this to be true. So shut up about the liberal media. You don't even know it's plural, moron."

Maybe soon I'll sum up the break, if only to satisfy the requests. But right now, I'm just too darn proud of my test.


Let us give spanks...er...thanks.

Have a great Thanksgiving, everybody! Stop reading blogs and go talk to your family. They told me they miss you.


Let's give me my due. Honestly.

I'm really digging the widescreen. Do you like the widescreen? I like the widescreen.

I feel like it really didn't get enough attention in the last post. It was mentioned briefly, but then cast aside for a ginormous listing of silly people's online journals (which are now listed, as promised, on the sidebar.) And I felt bad because that was kind of giving it short shrift. So here's some more shrift, widescreen.

I wish I would have done some big announcement, like when Strong Bad did a flashback in widescreen. "Left side, brrrow. Right side, brrrow." But anyway, that's in the past. And I'm glad that my blog is no longer a direct representation of my physical self. Because there should only be so many tall and skinny things in this world.

(Seriously, I had to edit html and everything. I don't know how to do that! No idea! Did it stop me? No. It did not. And I have already sold the film rights to Lifetime.)


The exciting conclusion

Check it out! Tim's blog...now in widescreen! Geez, it's like I know html or something.

My goodness, people. If I had known that not posting for a week would cause such drama among, well, all two of you...I probably would do it more. Because it's pretty funny. But really, I've been dealing with 12 bands that are coming to play at Drake this Thursday and Saturday for KDCS Presents: Battle of the Bands 2: Electric Boogaloo. (Okay, I added the Electric Boogaloo thing myself, but how cool would that be?)

I've determined that the quality of a band is inversely proportional to their cooperation, meaning the best bands are the hardest to work with. And these bands are really good. So that's what I've been doing - dealing with fragile little uncommunicative bands. In my own little way, I like to think I'm stabbing a fork in Clear Channel's foot. It doesn't really change much because Clear Channel is a giant and I'm just a guy who makes shoes, but hey, it worked for Mickey. Man, I'm rusty...

Maybe the fork should be too...

At any rate, it's time for the conclusion of Tim's famous series of his friends' blogs. Because believe it or not, there is a huge public outcry to know my daily websurfing routine. Now that I've discussed the most important two, the rest can be covered with but a cursory description. So buckle your seatbelts, kids. Here we go, in the order they appear in the "Blogs" section of My Favorites...

faiiinster's blog
This is Michelle, aka Hot Sauce, aka Wasabi. We're friends from back in my Fred J. Miller days. She was a flag girl, I was a drum major. It was a match made in band camp. That makes it sound like we hooked up, but that's not true. She's much too smart for that. She posts almost daily, and her posts are full of Internet slang and tales of college debauchery. She keeps me young.

mattiekate's blog
My friend Mattie is much cooler than I will ever be. She goes to school in Nashville and rubs noses with rockstars. She doesn't post often, but occasionally goes nuts with a photo essay. Very enjoyable.

justcallmekorea's blog
Yes, Sheila is Korean. She is also way more emo than you can handle. Be forewarned.

streaks in the sky
Haley is a supercool girl. Her blog is really pretty and has its own special cursor. If she lived nearby, I'd totally ask her to play Nintendo with me. (She also loves Smallville, for those of you who consider that important.)

britann's blog
Proving once and for all that you can't be a former member of Attagirl and not have a blog, this is Brittany's blog. She's also an infrequent poster, but I love her just the same and I don't yell at her when she doesn't post.

The Menagerie
This is Thom's blog. Thom plays guitar for a rock band called The Elms. They're a great band and Thom is a consistently entertaining and thought-provoking blogger. His URL was published in CCM and I think that made him LOL. So look out for lost Michael W. Smith fans and Joshua Harris.

degreeofdaisy's blog
This one's brand new, so get in on the ground floor. Because what the world needs is another Schell on the internet.

Moby's blog
Yeah, that's right. THE Moby. You know, bald guy, former techno artist, archnemesis of Eminem. He has a blog. It's really fun. He's very opinionated and sometimes arrogant about it, but it's still enjoyable. He's been super depressed ever since the election and hasn't been posting much, but he should get back in the habit soon.

Bufford the Wonder Blog
I just posted about this guy. He's still hilarious.

Rob's Office Space
I also just posted about this guy. Scott and I are very jealous and bewildered by the fact that he just started and his blog is already much popular than both of ours. What a jerk. Wish I had a bogus job that would pay me to update daily.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost
My blog. You already know about this one, because you're here. But I'm trying to be comprehensive.

Jakey's blog
I don't know if you can see this one. He might still be private. If you can't, don't worry about it. He doesn't post much and when he does, it's fairly vitriolic. Just think of the angriest,most bitterly cynical thing that could be said about a certain topic and assume that's what he said.

nerve tonic's blog
One of my friends at Drake. We go way back to J-30, when we had huge crushes on each other but were too shy to say anything. She's a very cool girl and knows the trials of being tall in this world. Fairly emo, but she also has a picture of a Strong Bad pumpkin she carved for Halloween. That's a good balance, I'd say.

The Dangerous Life of a Frat Boy
My friend Paul goes to U of I. He's been averaging a post about every month. He makes me feel better when I don't post for a while.

For All the World to See!
This is Emeric's blog, one of my good friends at Drake. He has a funny name. Josh still calls him Generic. His blog normally alternates between extreme nerdiness, political pontification, thoughts on ancient battle tactics, and existentialism. It's fun.

It was Brittany's idea
The blog of the guy who draws the webcomic Ctrl+Alt+Del. I really don't care what's going on in his life, but I really like his comic and he puts his sketches online, which are pretty cool. Plus, I'm an obsessive stalker.

Well, there you have it. That's my daily blog routine. Hope your curiosity is satiated. Somewhat ironically, just before I finished this series, I learned how to make a links section. So look for that soon. For those of you whining about this series, fear not. The ribald tales of gallantry and general misadventurey will commence shortly. So keep your pants on.


Voted "Most Likely to Die for Comedy"

This just in: I suck at posting.

But anyway, let's continue with my blog series. Because there's nothing quite like telling you about something already well-known.

Bufford the Wonder Blog

The blog of one "Scotty 2 Hotty," whose real name is being withheld for his own safety, this place is always good for a laugh and a cry. (But the cry is only because you feel so ashamed at why you're laughing.) Scotty is the type of person that will go to great lengths, indeed, some would say any lengths, for a joke. I truly believe that sooner or later, one of Scotty's jokes is going to get him killed. I'm looking forward to this, not because I want him dead, but because it'll have to be a really good joke.

I remember one time when I went with Scotty and some friends to a movie. We had some time to kill before the movie started, so we went out to the parking lot and nabbed a really great parking space. Then we pretended like we were backing out until someone drove by and stopped, waiting for us to leave. Then we'd pull back into the spot. We did this several times. It was hilarious every time.

Scotty is a huge Everquest dork. He is obsessed with obscure Nickolodeon TV shows like "The Adventures of Pete & Pete." He likes MST3K, so he can't be all bad. He is also, from my understanding, one of the coolest people at his school, which tells you a lot about him and also a lot about his school. His sad, sad school.

He's a regular commenter on my blog, so I like him. He, Rob, and I form something like the Triumvirate or maybe the Unholy Trinity of bloggers. We're the people with nothing better in our lives than to blog and comment on others' blogs. And yet, we're still ridiculously awesome. Strange.

Tune in next time for another entry in my series, "Places You Already Visit."


"Political Emo: Sillier Than Regular Emo?"

In an effort to get away from the political heartbreak of the last week, I'm going to start a new series of blog entries. That's right, a series. Kind of like in church when the pastor has a series of sermons on one topic like "The Fruits of the Spirit" or "Stuff Jesus Said" or "Conservative Christianity: Legitimate Belief System or Mere Voting Bloc?" (My personal favorite: "Dudes Kissing: 1001 Reasons Why It's Gross and Really Scares Us")

My series will be nothing so noble. In fact, it may very well be the ultimate in meaningless information. I will be blogging about blogs. That's right, my friends. We have entered the age of meta-blogging. Each post I will feature one or two of the blogs I regularly visit and tell a little about the author and why they warranted one of my precious bookmarks. This is a very elaborate method of replacing the "links" section that cooler blog programs like Xanga have. Stupid Xanga. Strangely, this has actually been requested by at least one person, and it will give me something to talk about. Because when it comes to my friends, sarcastic jibes practically write themselves.

Rob's Office Space

The previous statement applies to no one more than Rob. It's appropriate that we start with him, as he was the very first person to reply to one of my posts and has been a dedicated reader ever since. Rob, like myself, is not skinny. He is wiry. He is also a huge geek. Every birthday since he was 8, he has wished that he would become animated. Many speculate this has, for all intents and purposes, already come true.

At one point, Rob adamantly denied the possibility of starting his own blog. This lasted all of two days before he realized he could waste company resources and time by doing it at work. Rob is a genius. He details the terrible, soulless reality of office life in a way that makes it almost easy to stomach. He has a disproportionately hot girlfriend. Much hotter than mine, who does not exist. He also has a dedicated crew of commenters, some of whom are certified nutjobs.

So check out Rob's blog. His current post is particularly awesome, mainly because it's very complimentary of me. I expect this to change very soon after he reads this. But regardless, come back for the next post in the series. Because, as bad as it could be, it's gotta be better than dudes kissing.

"Stuff Jesus Said"...heh. I'm hilarious.



Well, where we going, kids? Because if we're leaving the country, we might as well start some sort of colony somewhere.

Here's what my good friend Moby (yes, the Moby) had to say about the whole thing. He's really opinionated and sometimes annoying about it, but I thought this was a good idea.

"can someone remind me why secession is not an option at this point?
i mean let's be realistic, we live in a divided country.
can't we have the breakaway republics of 'north-east-istan' and 'pacific-stan'? wouldn't the red states be happier without us?
we could still travel freely and trade freely with them, but can't we just leave?
then you could have 3 countries:

Oh, that Moby...


The true Incredibles?

MSNBC - Rare disease makes girl unable to feel pain

As soon as this girl learns to control her powers, she WILL be a superhero.

I've transcended time, but not space...no, I have no idea what you're talking about.

Okay, this is kind of a lame post because there's not much to it, but I felt the need to add some fresh content. But the desire to put something fresh on the blog is countered by the desire to get some sleep. So the scales go back and forth for a while, then settle on this: A post, but a short one.

I really felt I had to bring this to your attention. I love the funny pages, and this strip made me laugh harder at a comic strip than I have in a long time. I hope you enjoy it too. Okay, sleep now.

(Sorry, the link has expired since I posted this. You'll just have to take my word for it. It was hilarious.)

(Also, the title of this post is a quote from I Heart Huckabees, which I saw this weekend. Killer cast and a quirky script made for a very funny movie. Check it out at your local indie movie theatre. Because I guarantee it's better than freaking Saw, I don't care if the dude from The Princess Bride is in it or not.)

"Wanna make a crappy, messed-up movie?"
"As you wish."


Artistic decision

The Scorpions are on tour right now. Here's an artistic dilemma for you, if you were indeed in the Scorpions. When you play a gig in Florida, do you play "Rock You Like a Hurricane?" On the one hand, it's your big (read: only) hit. On the other hand, it's pretty insensitive, don't you think? Honestly. Stupid insensitive Scorpions.

This is what I think about during class, I kid you not.

Well, that was embarrassing

Stupid Red Sox.



So I'm back from the retreat. I've un-retreated. I don't know if that means what I want it to. I'm back from the retreat. So, whatever the French say when they get home from a war.

At any rate, I've got homework that I've been neglecting, so no good stories tonight. The stories may come. The stories may involve getting hit with balls of paint projected at high velocity.


Celebration station

Some quick props must be thrown out tonight.

Props to the St. Louis Cardinals for winning Game 7 and heading to the World Series. So awesome. Hey brother...it's on. The Cards are gonna make every Bostonian sad for another few decades. But you're a Cubs fan. You're used to disappointment.

Props for democracy. Today was the big push for voting on campus here at Drake. Some very nice election officials came out and had us all vote absentee so we wouldn't have to go somewhere else on Nov. 2. And let me tell you, I fulfilled the crap out of my civic duty.

Props to Jon Stewart for yelling at the stupid people who host Crossfire. If you haven't seen the video or read the transcript yet, I highly recommend it. It's hilarious and he makes some excellent points.

And props to you, loyal reader. Without the 5 of you that regularly view this, I don't know why I would bother. Anyway, I'm headed out of town for a couple days for a fall retreat with the high school youth group I volunteer with. Should be a good time, but that means no blogging. So don't get discouraged. I'm not going to bail for a week and a half like last time. I'm just going to play some paintball, talk about Jesus, and then I'll be back.

So keep your pants on, Paintball Jesus.


My forehead is burning from jubilation

Hey, how 'bout them Rod Sox, eh?

How 'bout them Cardinals, eh?

I've got playoff fever!!


The only good thing about Tuesdays

It's been a while since I actually bought an album on the day it came out, but today I did. And I didn't buy just one brand spanking new album. No sir. I bought two. (And one week-old album.) Here are the initial reviews:

Jimmy Eat World - Futures: Amazing. More like Clarity than Bleed American, this is pure Jimmy. Quintessential Jimmy, you might say. I love it.

Roper - Brace Yourself for the Mediocre: Oddly, I haven't listened to this yet. However, I'm sure it will be very silly and very Roper-ish.

Straylight Run - s/t: This band was formed by two former members of Taking Back Sunday, but doesn't really sound much like it. Which I suppose is part of the reason they left. One review I read of this album says it's like "melding your copy of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours into your Fugazi disc." A great quote. I think a huge part of being a music journalist is finding clever ways to describe new music. I respect that. Anyway, it's a really great CD. I'm a sucker for piano-pop and female harmonies, which are only a small part of the music, but suck me in nonetheless.

Whoo! Two posts in two days! This won't last!


Keep your pants on, people.

Seriously people. Keep your pants on. The one thing the Internet doesn't need more of is nudity.

Okay, so sorry I haven't posted in a week and a half. I've been pretty busy with stuff (Mafia wasn't going to beat itself, you know) and truth be told, I haven't been too inspired. Maybe I've been too busy to be inspired, or I haven't let myself be inspired. I don't know. Maybe I need to go rock climbing. Zing! (Yowza. That was a callback to my 5th post, if you can believe it. That's for the old-school fans out there. Here's a refresher if you need to catch up. I hate leaving people out of the inside jokes. Which I guess defeats the purpose of inside jokes if there's nobody outside of them. Whatever.)

So I guess I don't exactly know why I haven't posted. Here's one thing I do know: if your quality of life has decreased significantly because of my non-posting, then I have two things to say:

1) Thank you. That's very sweet.
2) Wow. Far be it for me to call your life sad, but I think I might have to. Maybe you need a hobby or something. I recommend models. No, not building them. Making out with them. Hey-oh!

Anyway, one of the things keeping me busy these days is my new internship. It's with a marketing agency called Relationship Marketing, and let me tell you, I have sold out big time. I have an office with real walls and business cards. Yeah, business cards. With my name on them. My official title is "Public Relations Coordinator" which does not have the word "intern" in it anywhere. And they pay me too, which I still think is ridiculous.

It's actually a really cool office. They have this middle area called "The Arena" where they have meetings sometimes. But that's not why it has that name. I don't think their meetings are that bloody, with battles and lions and Christians and one dude in charge who gives the thumbs down to Jerry the Mail Guy whose production is down this month and then he gets beheaded. I don't think it's like that. I don't think...well...no. It's not. I'm pretty sure.

No, they call it "The Arena" because it has a basketball hoop in it. A real hoop with a glass backboard. Pretty crazy, I know. I'm going to start working on my jump shot and have them pay me for it. There's also an area where there's a second floor of cubicles, but it's all open air, so you can see up there. And going from the second floor down to the first is a tube slide just like you would see on the playground. It's a very playful office. Unfortunately, they've had a rough time with the economy and all, so they don't employ as many people as they used to. So no one works over by the slide and the people that are still there just aren't in a sliding mood. At least not when I'm around. They better not be having slide-fests when I'm not there.

So I'll try to find the time to post more often. They won't all be marathon posts like this one, that's for sure. My schedule and your attention spans can't handle it. But in the meantime, let's all keep our pants on, shall we?

Or at least our man-pris.

P.S. For those of you keeping track, here are the results of the latest board polls.
  • A tag-team of Edward Scissorhands and Wolverine handily defeated Shredder and Freddy Krueger, thanks mostly to a strong female vote for Hugh Jackman and Johnny Depp. Even at his most effeminate, Depp still snags the ladies.
  • Ryu defeated Ken 13-7. HADOUKEN!!
  • Most recently, in the cleverly named Sesame Street Fight, Bert took down Ernie 7-4. Who saw that one coming? Not me.


Not to break up the fun...

I almost don't want to make a new post, because you guys are having way too much fun being HUGE dorks replying to that last one. But something happened at my internship today that I want to share, and the dorkiness must stop eventually.

So they outfitted me with a computer and whatnot (in my OFFICE. With real WALLS.) Unfortunately, a few keys on the keyboard didn't work. None of the important ones really, just b, n, and ?/. I said I could type around them, but they insisted on getting me a new one. So I tested it in the most classic manner and just kept typing, which led to an improvised story that I'd now like to share...

The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog...
And was quickly shot by hunters on horseback.
The dog, it turns out, was just a decoy designed to lull the fox into a false sense of security.
It was a brilliant plan, executed to perfection.
"La renarde," as they say in France, which is where they were, had been captured.
The hunters headed back to their homes for a quiet evening of cheese and arrogance.

Thank you.


Now's your turn

Okay, so apparently Rob has the touch of death when it comes to commenting. Every time he comments on one of my posts, that's it. No more comments occur. You're like the comment lichen, Rob. (Blog ref: 10 dork points to Ryder! Me: Thank you, Chuck Norris.)

So here's an addendum to the last post to give the topic another chance. Help me out with suggestions of future polls. Any two characters or groups of characters from literature, pop culture, history, video games, or whatever that you would like to see in a fight. Go ahead, hit me.


A much more important poll

You hear a lot these days about polls. This being an election year and all, it seems every other day, there's a statistically irrelevant, poorly worded, completely biased, and totally pointless poll talked about in the media. And most those are just about people's reactions to Lindsay Lohan's first pop song. (By far the most common reaction: IT SUCKS. Even for a movie-star-turned-pop-star offering.)

But far more important than that, and even more important than those stupid presidential polls, are my own personal polls. That's right - the dry erase board poll has returned.

You see, my room is right at the top of the stairs of the 4th floor. Besides letting me scope out the hot girls on the floor (especially as they come back from working out. Rroww...), it also lets me communicate with everyone in a way that promotes intelligent, socially responsible debate. In other words, I ask people who would which of two unlikely characters would win in a street fight.

These are classics like Tony the Tiger vs. Cap'n Crunch, Indiana Jones vs. Han Solo (no weapons), and the like. I would like to share a few recent polls that I'm particularly proud of.

A couple weeks ago, I had my dad vs. each passerby's respective dad, under the pretense that my dad could totally beat up all of their dads. (This is obviously a ridiculously playgroundish argument, which was the joke.) Unfortunately, my dad got the ever-loving crap kicked out of him in the polls 12-1.

Then we had the Philosopher Street Fight: Socrates vs. his pupil, Plato. I voted for Socrates on the basis that the Socratic Method also applies to beat-downs. But then someone else made the point that Plato could be molded into any type of fighter he wanted, which I thought was the most intelligent joke ever made on my dry erase board. At any rate, Socrates won a close one 7-5.

This next poll was possibly the funniest one think I've ever come up with. It was the sphere from Sphere vs. the cube from Cube. If you don't get that, then you're not cool. You should read more books by Michael Crichton and watch more Canadian films about giant, booby-trapped cubes. Then you'lI think it's hilarious, as I do. Anyway, no one else on my hall got it either, so they tied 5-5.

Finally, the current poll is a classic cartoon rivalry. The Flintstones vs. The Jetsons. Family vs. family, no futuristic technology allowed. That means no Rosie, no Barney, no Bam-Bam. But wooden clubs are okay, because they're not futuristic. Now it's your turn to weigh in. What's your opinion on any or all of these polls?

Except on Lindsay Lohan of course. That's a given.


Are you a friend of Sonic?

Thanks for all the great comments on the midget post, guys. Goes to show - nothing draws people together quite like midgets. They might be the closest thing we have to a universal language. I thought I should conclude that story arc by mentioning the other strange guy we saw.

Shortly after the midget had driven away in his giant Suburban, we saw a pair of gentlemen walking in the direction of one of the chain restaurants at Jordan Creek. They looked perfectly normal until they passed us. At that point, we saw something that horrified us.

He had a tail.

It obviously wasn't HIS tail, unless the X gene has begun to kick in. If that is the case, we need to get Professor X over here right away and slap this guy around for looking so ridiculous. Mutants are going to have to look a lot cooler than this guy if they want to be accepted.

No, it was attached around his waist or something. It was a long, bushy, raccoon-esque tail. If he had another one, he could have been Tails, a character from Sonic the Hedgehog. But Tails can use his tails as a helicopter-like rotor to fly around. I did not see this guy do anything like this. His only special power was to attract stares from shoppers.

The strange thing was that he seemed to be wearing the tail just as an accessory. He was not in costume - just normal street clothes, heading into P.F. Chang's or whatever the crap is out there. He seemed pretty comfortable with it, which made me wonder if it was something he wore often. Is he one of those people who really wants to be an animal? Or was it a statement of some kind?

I bet that midget would know.


Not the shortest post ever, but you're in the ballpark.

Okay fine. You want the midget post? You'll get the midget post.

Friday night, a group of friends and I went to see Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. (Amazing film, by the way. Incredible visual style and artistry. Good story and a great cast. It also had a bold comedic flair, which pleasntly surprised me. Especially when such an epic film ends on a silly joke. Very risky. But very bold.)

At any rate, we went to the new cinema at Jordan Creek, which is ridiculously expensive but a really nice place. It is also my new favorite place to go people watching. Because we saw some great people.

We were all hanging around outside after the movie, when one of my friends said, "Tim, look over there." I turned, and there stood the smallest midget I had ever seen. I mean, we're talking two, two-and-a-half feet at most. I quickly turned my head and began to laugh.

Now, it's important to note at this point that I was not laughing AT the midget. I was laughing at how utterly unprepared I was to see a person that small before me and how inappropriate my reaction was. It should be said that for the rest of the night, no one laughed AT the midget. He seemed like a nice guy. Very friendly, well-dressed, obviously doing well for himself. He drove off in a giant red SUV, for goodness sakes. (Okay, that we laughed at. A midget driving an SUV? That's funny.)

But the memorable point came in the car as we drove home. We were still talking about the guy when Raph said, "Midgets are the most under-represented minority in America. If you laugh at other minorities, you're a racist, but if you laugh at them, it's okay."

Under-represented. He actually used the term "under-represented" in reference to midgets. As you can imagine, that only opened the door to more terrible puns. And it wasn't a small door. It was a giant, Sky Captain plane hangar pair of doors that we drove our bad comedy zeppelin right through.

Here were the responses:
Me: "Yeah Raph, they really got the SHORT end of the stick on that deal. I bet people wish they could see MORE of them."
Emeric: "Yeah, they really don't have great STATURE in society."

Now in retrospect, that's nothing more than a series of terrible jokes that happened to follow the comedic rule of three. But at that moment, in that car, it was as if magic happened. We were laughing so hard, we had to pull over.

So that's the midget story. All that, and it basically amounts to "you had to be there." Good job, Tim. Oh, there was also a guy with a raccoon tail, but that's a story for another time.

Celebration of dorkitude

Star Wars Trilogy - 2004 DVD Changes

The original Star Wars trilogy comes out on DVD today, and that can mean only one thing: Dorks everywhere are upset about George Lucas making changes. The link above spotlights some of the major differences between the 1997 special edition and the 2004 DVD edition. If some of the changes make you really mad (as they did for me), congratulations, you're a dork.


Screaming on kids like Bobcat Goldthwait

It's been quite the weekend. I have many fun stories to share, but I'm going to split them up so I don't make a mondo long post. I know you guys have short attention spans and are only willing to read for so long. I can sympathize. Sometimes I get tired reading the comic page in the paper.

Here's something interesting: I'm gaining more and more respect for hip-hop. This is a somewhat startling development for a kid whose most adventurous musical selection is Stryper. But I think I've made a deliniation in my mind between rap and hip-hop and there is most definitely a difference. For example: Black Eyed Peas - cool. Chingy - ridiculously uncool.

The title of this post is an actual lyric from my new favorite hip-hop group: Psyche Origami. I got their CD in the mail at our campus radio station. Here's my favorite stanza so far:

"Call the paramedics while I work you all to edits/
Psyche O's the main feature, comin' first up on the credits/
You comin' up last, just like a dolly grip/
After I confronts for twenty years, you'll have to switch to Super Poligrip/
With Efferdent to polish it."

Who would've guessed that it would take lyrics about film credits and dentures to turn me on to hip-hop? Not me.

More posts about midgets and poker to come...


A bid for power

Last week was Rush Week at my school, which is hilarious enough in itself, but that's not what I'd like to talk about today.

I'd like to talk about Bid Day.

This is the cumulative event of Rush Week, in which the new people actually get to know the house they've become a part of. I laugh everytime someone just uses the term "Bid Day" because it always makes me think of The Price Is Right. I just picture Bob Barker up on the CBS stage saying "The contestant who bids the closest to the actual price without going over will get to pay for her new group of friends!"

But even that mental image does not compare with the theatrics of Bid Day. Let me see if I can give you a rundown of the events. From what I understand, the girls read a list at some point during the Sunday after Rush Week that tells them what house has given them a "bid". ("I'd like to bid $375 on that freshman, Bob." Sorry, but I can't get that out of my head.)

Then all the new sorority girls head up to the second floor of our student union for some kind of orientation. While they're up there, the current batch of sorority girls gather around the main entrance. And they're all in costume. You might not notice it, because some just go with the black dress, but each sorority has a dress code. My favorite is the sailor outfit worn by the DG house. (They have an aquatic theme that they really stick to all year. I respect that.) Once they're all there, the real fun begins.

They start singing.

I'm not joking about this. Each house has cute little songs and cheers that they sing while they're waiting. Some are original, some more chants than songs, and at least one (I swear) was to the tune of "Boom Boom, Ain't It Great to be Crazy?" So they're singing, more to each other than to the girls upstairs, and waving their signs and whatnot. Every so often, a girl will peek through the upstairs window at the cheering throng. That is the throng's cue to go crazy. And if you've never heard that many girls screaming at such a high pitch, then you've probably never been with me when I walk in public. Hi-yo!

So eventually the new girls get to come down and much hugging and screaming ensues. Then everybody crams into the few cars they have (I saw about a dozen girls in the back of a pickup) and they drive to Greek Street, honking and probably singing all the way.

I watched the whole thing this past Sunday, which, in retrospect, probably creeped the girls out quite a bit. Sorry, ladies. It's just how I operate. I just think it's the best show on campus - the costumes, the songs, the choreography. It's like a Broadway musical, only with more shattered dreams in its wake.

I don't know what the frat guys do on Bid Day, but I assume it's much the same, only with even more latent homoeroticism.


Tide you over, Emmanuel Lewis!

Hey, sorry for the lack of posting. Turns out my professors are actually going to make me do stuff this semester. How lame. Don't worry though, I have lots of ideas. I just need time to flesh them out. So look out this weekend - it could be blogging mania. For now, here's a random childhood recollection:

When I was a kid, I was astonished by Webster's Dictionary, because I had no idea how such a large book could be written by a small black child.


Still drunk with power

Had a pretty exciting experience last night. KDCS (our campus radio station) was hired to provide the music at Drake athletic events. And last night was our first home football game of the season. To top it off, it was at night - the first night football game at Drake since 1960. So there was a huge crowd there (almost 9,000 - last year's season high was less than half that), and I was in charge of the music being piped over the speaker system before and after the game. No pressure.

Early in the evening, I decided that the worst possible thing I could do would be to play something during the moment of silence for September 11. And if I didn't do that, everything else would be okay. Well, I didn't do that. And everything else was okay.

(That's a good technique for dealing with pressure. Think of the worst thing you could possibly do, then don't do it. Man, I should write a book.)

So I had 9,000 people there to force my musical opinion on. So what did I do? I played The Format. And of course, something cool happened. Some other guy working for Drake athletics came up and complimented my music choice. Turns out he went to high school with Nate, the lead singer. They were good friends - went to prom together and everything. So that was really cool, but I wonder if he gets mad when he hears the line "Old classmates please drop all your pens, don't write a word 'cause I won't reply." I probably would. Stupid Nate - thinks he's all cool because he's in a band.

My brother's girlfriend thinks that line is "Old classmates, please drop all your pants." I think that's gross. (Yeah, that's right, Allyn. I said it.)

The booth where I sat in the press box was ridiculously hot because we couldn't get the window out. That was not awesome. What was awesome were the three opposing coaches in the booth next to me. They would periodically get really excited and yell at their team. I found that hilarious. And almost 9,000 people listened to music that I like. Hence the "drunk with power." And here's the best part:

I only had to play that stupid "Hey" song once.

Timmy Tapeworm - making stadium soundtracks better, one song at a time.


A disturbing trend

I've noticed something very disturbing as I walk around campus this fall. It seems that all of my worst fears have been realized. The very essence of my nightmares have taken form in reality. This could only be a sign of the Apocalypse.

The preppy look is back.

That's right. There's been a sudden increase of Izod polo shirts, pressed khakis, and (this is the worst part) flipped-up collars on Drake's campus. Seriously, flipped-up collars. All these frat boys wearing brightly colored polo shirts are flipping up their collars like they've been doing it all their lives. But here's the worst part:

They're doing it without a trace of irony.

No wink-wink, nudge-nudge, "I know this looks ridiculous but it's okay because I'm aware of it" attitude can be detected in these specimens. They honestly think it looks good. And that, my friends, is the saddest part of all.

So if you know someone that's been afflicted with this sudden and terrible disease, be a real friend and do them a favor. Show them some pictures of people in the 80's when the preppy look was in. Then make them look in the mirror. We can only pray that the jagged shards of their shattered psyche can make the connection that indeed, they too look ridiculous.

God save the wannabe-preppies.

(This message has been brought to you by your friendly neighborhood wannabe-emo kid.)


It means "No Worries." Did you know that? It does.

Proving once again that random musical encounters are not limited to large metropolitan cities, I had a particularly strange one today on Drake's campus. While walking across our quad, two girls passed me walking the other way. They looked pretty young, probably freshmen.

Here's the kicker: they were singing, in unison, "Hakuna Matata." Yes, the cheery happy song from The Lion King. Not overly loud like they wanted the entire world to hear them, but loud enough to make you think they maybe wouldn't mind if you were a talent scout and heard them and immediately signed them to a record deal.

It made me laugh. I mean, one person singing to themself isn't anything to blog home about - God knows I get some looks for doing just that - but these girls were obviously putting some effort into coordinating their Disney show tunes. Crazy.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go stick my head out of my door and rap at people as they walk by.


There and back again

Current mood: Ponderant
Currently listening to: Snow Patrol - Final Straw
(Xanga and Livejournal people can put these things at the top of their posts and they look all cool. Sometimes I get jealous.)

I went home for a few days this weekend, to see the fam and enjoy a little time together before we once again scatter across the country. It was great to see them, especially my brother and his girlfriend, even if they were so freaking cute that they made me ill. But since our age group likes lists, here are some things I learned this weekend.

- Some planes are very small. The plane that flies between Des Moines and St. Louis is not Tim-friendly. The plane that flies between St. Louis and Springfield, IL is downright Tim-hostile.

- Hotshot business kids from Texas think they're all bad because their state was once its own country. Whoop-de-do.

- Don't put your luggage in the way of hotshot business kids from Texas. They will show no mercy.

- My brother's girlfriend has a really funny laugh, but only sometimes. Doing a horrendously exaggerated version of said laugh is now one of my favorite things to do and may count as our first inside joke. That's exciting.

- If there's a competitive person around, anything can become competitive. ANYTHING.

- It's not a good idea to watch a movie that concludes with an emotional scene in an airport (i.e. Garden State) if you're going to have your own emotional scene in an airport the next day.

- The Drake Admissions office is not open on Labor Day. So if you're a Student Ambassador, don't wake yourself up at 8:00 on the national holiday and walk all the way over to the other side of campus, because the building will be locked and dark and you'll be left cursing your own stupidity.

And finally,

- I have the greatest family and friends ever. For serious.


Isn't this a great post?!

I've mentioned this to a few people because I learned it during my internship and found it fascinating. So I thought I'd share it with everyone. Here we go.

Did you know that ?! (as in "Isn't this a great post?!") is an officially recognized punctuation mark known as an "interrobang"? In typography, it's formed by superimposing the exclamation point over the question mark and is used to "punctuate rhetorical statements where neither the question nor an exclamation alone exactly serves the writer." Seriously, check it out. http://www.interrobang-mks.com/ I just thought I'd mention that because "interrobang" is the greatest name for a punctuation mark ever. Ah, the things you learn during internships...

I'm going to start a band and call it "Interrobang".



As long as I'm making emo links

"How to be: Emo"

If you have ever wondered, "Hey, what's this emo thing I keep hearing about?", this is the film for you. Because a film about a contemporary topic done in the style of a 1950's instructional video is hilarious.

Beware, this film has a running time of 21 minutes. Emo is not a simple subject.

From the geniuses that brought you Emo-Game...


Finally, someone has combined partisan politics with crappy videogame action. It's about time someone fulfilled the wishes of the millions of people in this country who desired an amazingly obscene videogame that lets you use Hulk Hogan, Michael Moore, and Jesus to fight the gigantic creepy robotic forms of the current administration.

It's true art, let me tell you. And very educational.

WARNING: I'm not kidding, it's really obscene. Not for the easily offended blah blah blah.


How narcissistic can one guy be?

This honestly happened this evening. I was playing with my cell phone because it was flipping out this afternoon and refused to work. Well, it apparently had a change of heart (removing the battery and then putting it back is the equivalent of threatening a cell phone with a shiv) and was working. So I decided to test my cell phone the only way I knew how - I called myself. I seriously called my college extension. But when the voicemail picked up, the real fun began.

Some people would accept that the phone was working and call it quits at that point. Not I. I left myself a message for myself. This is a paraphrased transcript:

"Wow, what a great voicemail message. You sound like a really cool guy. We should probably hang out sometime, because you sound really cool. Oh man, what a great message. So funny! So cool..."

If that's not hilarious, then you're not me.


It's a Cold War joke

Am I the only one who finds the Olympic volleyball commentator using the phrase "He couldn't get past the Russian block" is hilarious? Anyone?

My new love

I think I'm in love with the history girl from the Old Navy commercials. You know, the one who is so excited about using stuff that is awesome. So excited about having clothes from Old Navy that she stands up in history class and starts yelling about how cool it is. When she yells, "Let's study!" my heart melts. I'm going to call Old Navy and see if I can get her number.

Saw Hero last night. It was very reminiscent of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon only with more color changes and plot twists. Very cool.

Finally, I love randomly turning on public access television at 2 in the morning and catching a drum corps show. So incredibly random. Life is funny.

P.S. If you were confused by the odd structure of the first paragraph, go here. (http://timmytapeworm.blogspot.com/2004/08/idiosyncrasy-is-cool-word.html) And in the future, try to keep up.


Two thoughts

1) I bet the person who works the phones at the hearing aid store has to yell a lot.

2) Not many parents name their child Bathsheba anymore.


I love things that are seemingly required in certain situations. You know, requisite stuff. I love the requisite crotchety old man that every town has. That guy who has nothing better to do than get involved in local politics and come to every town meeting and hate on stuff. Those guys are great.

I love the requisite victory celebrations at the Olympics. Tonight's celebration by U.S. beach volleyball gold medalists Kerri Walsh and Misti May was especially good. It's obvious that Kerri Walsh has a great deal of affection for her partner. I watched both the medal ceremony and the in-studio interview very closely and it's obvious that she likes her. I actually think she likes her likes her. I kept waiting for them to start making out during the playing of the national anthem, but no luck. They probably thought that would be disrespectful and waited until they got back to the Olympic Village. Good for them. And very good for me...

Finally, I love the requisite "hallway drama" of dormitories. There's always one girl who sits out in the hallway and talks to her boyfriend back home on the cell phone. And it inevitably deteriorates into drama, and the tears begin to flow, and I have to gingerly walk by on my way to the bathroom. Man, I love the requisite hallway drama.

Wait, no I don't. I hate that crap.


Still near death, even as I type.

Today, I was eating some Skittles and some of the Skittle juice came out just as I performed a seemingly routine inhale. I do those pretty frequently without even thinking about it, so I had no reason to believe this one would be any different. But a fairly sizable portion of the Skittle juice went down the trachea with the air, causing me to cough for at least a couple minutes.

I almost died.

Oh, classes started today too. That also happened.

Guess who's back?

Well, I'm back at Drake, all moved in to my swinging pad. I have a single this year, which is pretty nice, but a big responsibility. Suddenly, all the decisions about the room rest on my shoulders. This room is totally me. That's big pressure, but I think it's coming along. The walls are still bare, but we'll fix that soon enough. So now that I'm here, expect the witty observations to continue. Here's one now:

Boy, those U.S. Women's gymnasts sure are glittery.


Notable absence

Sorry to those three of you who regularly check this thing. I've been moving and packing and all that fun stuff that comes with being uprooted. So blogging hasn't been a top priority the last few days. I'll try and get back in the groove when I get back to school, which happens this weekend.

In the meantime, I suggest you use the cool new Blogger Navbar at the top of the screen to check out some other blogs. They won't be as cool as mine, but if you're lucky, they might be in different languages. Then you can just make up what you think they say.


The coolest brothers this side of...well...me and mine.

Strong Bad E-mail 110: For kids

Not a whole lot to say. Just that if you haven't watched this week's Strong Bad e-mail, you're doing yourself a disservice.

Strong Bad blowing up and yelling is hilarious. A caffeinated Strong Sad might be the only thing that beats it.

Although nothing beats when Kermit the Frog gets flustered and starts flailing his arms. Nothing.


Adventures in hipsterdom

Okay, so you get two posts today. I didn't want to make one huge post, so I broke it down. That way you can take a break in between if you need to. Use the bathroom, get something to drink, find more rewarding ways to spend your time, whatever. Anyway, here we go.

I felt pretty hip this weekend. Or at least indie. I did indie things. Like see a cool film. Here's my rock-solid hipster recommendation for this week: Go see Garden State. I realize not everyone has the resources or the free time to see all the movies I recommend, but I'm serious about this one.

Garden State was a beautiful film and I don't toss that term around lightly. It also moved me and I can't say that about too many films. It was a very "generational" film, in that it seems to capture the mood and feel of a certain segment of people, much like The Graduate or Reality Bites did. So if you're reading this and you're not my parents or grandma, that probably means you. The comment about it being "existential angst for the Saved by the Bell generation" was actually right on the money.

Also, one of the greatest things about Garden State was the ultra-cool indie soundtrack. It was so cool, it didn't even use the same Postal Service song as the trailer. It used a cover of the Postal Service song! That's how cool it is! But seriously, I'm buying it when it comes out. Check out the song "Let Go" by Frou Frou at this website: http://www.froufrou.net. It plays over the end credits and has been stuck in my head since Saturday.

On Sunday I took a walking tour of Old Town, the neighborhood where Second City is located, which was fun. It was given by a member of the Second City Touring Company, so it was fun. At least until the end, when classes prevented us from going in either theater as promised. Stupid classes. I also saw the Second City mainstage show that same night, which was great. So that was Second City day. Hooray for that.

Finally, today I cheered on the ComedySportz softball team as they played in the playoffs of the Theatre league. They played a couple great games - they beat Blue Man Group but lost a heartbreaker to Candlelight. Then I dashed over to the Metro to catch an amazing concert by Mutual Appreciation Society: a collaboration between - get this - Nickel Creek, the lead singer of Toad the Wet Sprocket, and the former bassist of Led Zeppelin. It was some amazing stuff.

Unfortunately, the bassist attracted those stupid fans who live in the 70's and follow everything the former members of bands do. So there was one dude who kept shouting "JOHN PAUL" throughout the show, which was stupid. His name was John Paul Jones, so that wasn't stupid, but the act was. Everyone hated him. Including, I'm sure, John Paul. I briefly considered yelling "George Ringo" and pretending like we were playing Marco Polo, but I don't think that would have helped.

And that was my weekend. Okay, so this post turned out mega-long anyway. Sorry. Now it's off to my last week at work. Sigh...


Just for you, Chicago

Sorry for falling off the face of the internet planet, as Allyn so eloquently put it, but I've had kind of a busy weekend. Don't be jealous that I've been chatting online with babes all day. Besides, we both know that I'm training to be a cage fighter.

That's a quote from Napoleon Dynamite. If you took my advice, you've seen it already. If you haven't, then you're a freaking idiot! Gosh! (More quotes.)

Anyway, I'll recap my weekend in another post, but at Allyn's request, here's another random Chicago experience. (Because my blog's main purpose is to entertain my brother's girlfriend.)

I was walking down the street to the El and a guy approached me walking the other way. He looked kind of disheveled and a little disoriented like he was drunk or high or both. When he was a few feet away, he said, "How you doing, brother?" I knew I shouldn't respond, because that question, if responded to, is usually followed by "Got any change?" or "Can you help a homeless person?" or "Want to trade this baby for crack?"

But I went against my better judgement and said, "I'm good, man." To my surprise, the guy just kept walking and said, "Have a good one," thus completing a perfectly normal social interaction with a complete stranger.

I laughed all the way down the block.

I love Chicago.


This can't be coincidence.

Observe the following comment made on The New York Times' movie site about the film Garden State:

hoyabriguy said: "Zach Braff and Natalie Portman offer strong and convincing performances as quirky 20-somethings trying to find their way in that anxious time between graduating from college and settling down. Call it existential angst for the 'Saved by the Bell' generation."

You may recall a few posts ago I mentioned Garden State. I also recently brought up Saved by the Bell. This combination of recent posts by a random movie commenter is no coincidence. It is a cosmic alignment with ramifications that could potentially affect the space/time continuum and drastically alter the very fabric of the universe. Here's my conclusion:

I am the solution to The DaVinci Code.

Thank you and good night.