Something happened with the hatch, maybe? I think there's a hatch?

Oh man, did you guys see who won American Idol*?!

How about the season finale of Lost**?!

And ohmigosh, can you believe what happened on Grey's Anatomy***?!

It's okay if you don't, I have no idea what happened on any of these shows. And that's why I have absolutely nothing to contribute to any of my coworkers' conversations.

I'm kind of okay with it.

*It was apparently the 50-year-old man.
**Some questions were answered, some were not. Additional questions were raised.
***Someone died and two people got it on.


It's pretty indie, I doubt you've heard of it

Oh my gosh, you guys.

I discovered the most amazing album the other night. If you consider yourself a fan of music in any way, you NEED to hear it.

It's called "The White Album."

Have you heard it? You have to hear it.

I really think it's going to change music as we know it.


It would upset people

I bet they'll never show "Snakes On a Plane" on a plane.


An epilogue

Thanks a lot, you guys. I'm so impressionable that your prodding forced me to use the fancy-schmancy toaster on my Pop-Tarts this morning*. Either I'm not smart enough to understand it or I wasn't paying attention, but they ended up overtoasted and not pleasant.

I think I'll stick to raw Pop-Tarts from now on, thank you.

The lesson learned from this escapade: "Never listen to your mother or Joanna. At least not when it comes to toaster pastries."

*>use toaster on pop-tarts
"I'm sorry, I do not understand 'pop-tarts'"
>take boat


In the raw

I was eating my normal mid-morning snack of two Pop-Tarts straight out of the bag at my desk the other day when a coworker stopped by to ask about something.

"Eww," she said. "Are you eating those Pop-Tarts raw?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I guess I am. I should be more worried about salmonella, but I live on the edge."

This was really funny to me and not even in a what-a-stupid-thing-to-say kind of way. I suppose, in the most technical sense of the word, she's absolutely correct. The Pop-Tarts are uncooked and therefore, quite raw.

I just found the perspective pretty hilarious. I guess I've been eating a lot of things raw without even knowing it. From now on, I'm cooking everything.

One cannot be too safe.

EDIT: Okay, I know I link to it a lot, but today's Dinosaur Comics made me laugh so hard I rocked with silent laughter in my cube, lest someone become curious. Plus, if you scroll down on this page a bit, you'll see an automatic updater for Dinosaur Comics. Man, obsess much?


Red, White and Blaine

(Disclaimer: I started this post on Friday afternoon when it was pretty slow at work. Strangely, my weekend was quite busy, so I am now finishing it on Monday because it is pretty slow at work. It is not quite as topical anymore, but at least it is something.)

Holy crap, The Office. Not only did you give us one of the funniest episodes of the season, you provided not one, but two "make-Tim-gasp-like-a-little-girl" moments in the last 10 minutes. We're talking actual hand-to-mouth gasps, people. That's impressive. A tip of the cap to you, my good friend*. It will be a long summer without your company.

But now to the main focus of today's post...

An Open Letter to David Blaine (with apologies to Rico Diablo)

Dear David Blaine,

You are a failure. An absolute, miserable, utter failure.

You might assume that I mean this in the most topical, up-to-the-minute sense because you failed in your attempt to break the world record for holding your breath. Of course, you did that. You didn't even come close. You failed pretty hard.

But you are a failure in so much more than that.

You are a failure in every sense of the word. You have failed at life, sir.

Remember when your first TV special came out? The year was 1997 and your "Street Magic" took the world by storm. While your so-bland-as-to-be-almost-dead persona was grating to some, none could deny the effect you had on the general public. People were excited.

Not long after that, you completely blew it.

Apparently, something caused you to completely forget that you are a magician. An illusionist. Not a freaking miracle worker/survivalist.

Allow me to break this down for you.

Levitating while standing 4 feet away from a stranger on the street is exciting. Making the name of some lady appear in ash on your forearm is exciting. Even card tricks are fairly exciting, when done in your trademark creepy fashion.

Fasting for 44 days while suspended in a clear plastic box is not exciting. It takes 44 days. Encased in ice, you say? Don't care. 61 hours is still about 61 hours too long. You got a little warmer with this whole breath-holding stunt, but what you've got to realize is that trying to hold your breath for 9 minutes is still 9 minutes of you just floating there.

Now if, at around the 8 minute mark, you had started flailing wildly and then DISAPPEARED, that would have been a magic show.

But no, no one does those kinds of magic shows anymore. Not even the great David Copperfield, who walked through the Great Wall of China and made the Statue of Liberty disappear. Nope, you've even ruined things for him. His latest special was something awful involving a "Tornado of Fire." He was trying to be like you because apparently that is was passes for magic these days. It was just sad, really.

Thanks a lot, David Blaine**. Thanks for ruining magic forever***.

*Notice here I have personified an entire television show.
**Finally, the title of your latest special was "Drowned Alive." I'm not even going to start on how stupid that is.
***Man, I really have a lot to say about David Blaine.


I won't quote Hamlet for this one, jerks

Ugh. Tell me about it, T-Rex.

Sorry for the lack of updates recently. I didn't mean to linger for almost a week on the whole "cognate" fiasco, but sometimes these things happen. And language is important. I feel very strongly about this.

I've been pretty busy moving all of my things down the hall to my new room. Now that Beth has left for Denver, I'm moving on up. And now that I think about it, it really is to the east side of the apartment. Huh. How about that.

My new room is pretty sweet and as much as I hate having things all jumbly and out of place, it's slowly coming together. I'll put up some pictures as soon as it's all put together.

It now strikes me that I never really posted pictures of my old room, so there are very few of you who will ever know the difference. To the vast majority of you, I might as well have lived in this new room since October. The only people who will know the difference are those privileged few who have actually stepped foot in my room (I'm looking in your direction, long line of broken-hearted ladies*).

I'm excited about my new room because it'
s got a big closet that I don't have to risk head injury to get into and a window so I can know exactly what time the bars close each night. These things are very important to me. And oh yes, did someone say beanbag chair left by the previous resident that's going right in front of the Playstation? I think they did.

Get excited, people. It's a new era.

*read: Andy, Scotty, and Niles the Cat. None are ladies and one isn't even human.


Me gusta comprar

People, I need your help. I'm wracking my brain to try to remember this, but I can't, so it's driving me nuts. Also, it's proving quite impossible to look up.

What's the term for a word that's almost exactly the same in a foreign language? Like supermarket and supermercado. There's a very specific term for those easy ones and I can't remember for the life of me.

Come on, you crazy blogosphere, if that is your real name. I need you to come through on this one.


It's also my wallpaper at work

I got my shirts from Dinosaur Comics last week, but I just remembered to bring them home from work today. I got a three-pack. Check it out.

If you do not answer Y to that question, we can no longer be friends. Similiarly, if you do not find this a totally awesome shirt, we can no longer be friends. Some might call this unfairly harsh, but I have my values and I will not sacrifice them for you. Exits are NORTH, SOUTH, and DENNIS.

I got this one as well. It is heartbreaking and poignant, but scientific. I like all my shirts to be this way.

Oh Dinosaur Comics. Not only have you improved my worldview, vocabulary and life in general, you have now improved my wardrobe.

However, I am concerned that I have unconsciously reversed my opinion on message T-shirts. Do these count? I maintain that they do not on account of their awesome graphics and overall radness. If you disagree, feel free to leave a comment, but please know that I do not care.


Good night, sweet theater

As of late, the universe has apparently found it hilarious to tear down many physical structures that hold great meaning in my life.

First my old high school, then my childhood home (okay we only sold that, but pretty much the same thing.) Now this:

This is the ComedySportz Theatre at 2851 N. Halsted St. in Chicago. It's been a historic Chicago theatre for many years, home to such influential groups as Steppenwolf, the St. Nicholas Players, and Organic Touchstone.

And in the summer of 2004, a wide-eyed college student walked through the doors and got his first glimpse into a world he'd never seen before.

He lives in that world now, and couldn't imagine what his life would have been like if not for this place.

On Saturday night, the players took their final bows and the curtain came down for the last time. Sometime in the next month or so, the building will be demolished and a whole block of godawful condos will be built.

ComedySportz will persevere, as it always has. We're in a temporary space for at least the next two months and hope that our new permanent space will be ready for the fall.

But the place has a lot of great memories attached to it and it's hard to see it go. Tara D sums it up much better than I could here and here.

Saturday night was an amazing experience. So many ensemble members just hanging out and watching the shows, such amazing playing, and just a great sense of community as we collectively remember the past and look to the future.

Plus, they started demolishing the stage in the middle of the midnight show. And afterwards, the ensemble did quite a bit of the wrecking crew's work for them. Seriously you guys, it was great.

"Good night, sweet prince.
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."