I'm very bitter.
R.I.P Studio 60. Check out the story here.
A red state conspiracy indeed...
Holy embarrassment, Batman.The Cards are in the World Series for the second time in three years. In 2004, the musical selections for "The National Anthem" and "God Bless America" were nothing short of cringe-worthy. We're talking Scott Stapp from Creed here, folks. After watching the talent Detroit (Motown, for God's sakes) threw out, we were hoping that St. Louis could trump the Michigan talent pool. Their highlights featured Bob Seger, John Mellencamp, and Anita Baker. Sidenote: When Anita Baker appeared onscreen to sing "The National Anthem," I commented that my mom was probably crying. Matt then said, "If your mom is crying right now, she should be shot." I explained that she wouldn't be crying because of her overwhelming patriotism but rather because Anita Baker has always been one of her favorite artists. I then let Matt know that I accidently forgot he was dead inside for about five seconds. I also reminded him that his dad cries a lot for a guy. He said that his dad cries, like, three times a year. Rosey suggested that if I could personally make Matt's dad cry more than four times in one day, Matt should give me a million dollars. So, you are probably wondering if our talent line-up fares any better than that of 2004. The answer, in brief, is fuck no.Trace Adkins, Jo Dee Messina, Billy Ray Cyrus, and Sugarland will be doing the honors. No wonder people think our city is full of conservative hillbillies ready to back the religious right 'til the cows come home. How about some diversity? Good thing no one outside of St. Louis or Detroit is watching this Series.
2 + 2 = ???
A few Saturdays ago, my roomies Jables and Rosey decided to start drinking Bloody Marys around noon. By the time I got home from the Cardinal game, they were well on their way. I walked into a rousing round of The Family Guy drinking game. And thank God, I wasn't too late to hear Rosey deliver dramatic readings from our book of "Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey." Sidenote: If there were two guys name Flippy and Hambone, who would you think liked dolphins more? My roomies intoxicatingly posed a very serious question: If you do a 'number two' twice in the same bar, does that equal a foursie? No one was quite sure of the answer.A few days later, Rosey received a shipment from Japan. The box included an assortment of philosophy books from his undergrad days. I was attracted to a book on existentialism. I flipped through and saw that "Notes from Underground" by Fyodor Dostoevsky was included. I thought I'd show off my brilliance by talking about the 'most advantageous advantage' explained in the text. Rosey remembered this passage as well, so we sat downstairs in his basement bedroom talking shop for another thirty minutes and pretending to be very intellectual. * * *Now, much later, I still ponder the drunken question my roommates asked me on their drunken Saturday afternoon. In Dostoevsky's classic novella, the main character, The Underground Man, claims that humankind's 'most advantageous advantage' is its ability to use emotion to defy reason. We are the only species on the planet with the necessary higher order thinking skills to act in direct opposition to science, math, and plain old common sense. The Underground Man emphatically claims that 2 + 2 = 5, just because he can.Therefore, to answer Jables' and Rosey's question: Two poops in a single location can equal a foursie. But it can also equal a fivesie if you want it to. That's your 'most advantageous advantage.' Enjoy.
Catch-22
Per Rosey after a long night of drinking before, during, and after the Cardinals big win:"Brushing your teeth on a Sunday morning is like a Catch-22. If you don't do it, the taste in your mouth might make you puke. If you do it, the utensil in your mouth might make you puke." Heller would be proud.
Important advice
One of the English teachers at my high school told me: "You're never too drunk to grade papers."
Yadier is my lover.
Whew. I was the world's biggest stress case tonight, and I think that half of my head of hair is lying on the floor of Matt's condo. But, the Birds pulled through, and we're going to the Series, baby!!! 36dd1, you better get ready!
Whatcha listenin' to?
Sorry to totally rip you off, creeperjam, but I'm stealing your idea.
Most people who belong to the Myspace world choose a default song that automatically plays when someone views their page. Here are the default songs for all of us Myspace losers:
1. Quank - "The Heat is On" by Glenn Frey (GO BIRDS!!!)
2. creeperjam - "Treehouse" by I'm from Barcelona
3. Dinner - "Everyone Gets a Star" by Albert Hammond, Jr.
4. Britt - "Paperweight" by Schuyler Fisk and Joshua Radin
5. Lauren - "Belief" by John Mayer
There are a good number of my best friends who don't have music. I change my song once a week.
You are cordinally invited...
Come one, come all
To the harvest ball
Everybody is welcome
Be careful; don't fall!
That's from Sesame Street.
Ain't no party
Like a dojo party
Cause a dojo party
Don't stop
That's from 52 rap songs.
The point is: If you read this blog, you are invited to our Barndance at the Dojo Saturday night. Jables, Rosey, and I believe that it will be the stuff that dreams are made of. Check ya.
I crossed the blogging line.
I kind of had a feeling that I was crossing the blogging line when I wrote about the mysterious tampon. My instincts were proven to be in full working order when my friend Nikki e-mailed me today. Her subject line merely read "Appalled." Her e-mail said something about puking in her mouth. She also wondered if Rosey was getting a new bed.For those of you out there who are wondering if Rosey is getting a new bed, no he is not. I think he'll make it. I did equip him with OxyClean, and he discovered the wonders of Lysol disinfectant spray on his own. Sorry if anyone else puked in his or her mouth after reading yesterday's post. Nikki, I love you. Don't ever change.
Take it to the crime lab!
Third roomie Rosey officially moved into the Dojo this week. Upon cleaning his basement abode, he found a particularly unsanitary situation that needed to be handled. Sidenote: It is not my intent to gross you out beyond belief. It is only my wish to convey a mysterious story.While changing his sheets, between his matress and box springs, he saw what he thought to be a dead mouse. Thanks to closer inspection, he unfortunately determined that it was not a recently deceased rodent. It was a tampon. Both have tails, if you will. Frankly, the appearance of this tampon sans wrapper is unknown. The facts are as follows:1. The mattress and box springs were a joint purchase from a good mutual friend.2. The two pieces have been sitting in the basement room since last spring, waiting for Rosey to return to the States.3. Many people have crashed in the basement room during weekend visits to the Lou. 4. We assume the tampon was left by a female. When I first heard this story, all I could do was shake my head in disbelief and apologize, as if I had something to do with it. All Jables could utter was: "Take it to the crime lab!"
The Wilkie Richter Scale
I buttoned my teachery cardigan the wrong way today, and I taught an entire freshman Language & Literature class incorrectly fastened. After class, a student approached me to alert me to my fashion faux pas. She explained that she noticed my error near the beginning of class, but she didn't want to embarrass me by telling me in front of the twenty-six other students. I thanked her, but I also eased her awkwardness by letting her know that it takes quite a lot to make me blush.Sidenote: It really doesn't. But this is what you have to say. Later today, I showed a video of Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech. However, I announced the clip as Dr. King's "I Have a Speech" Dream. Hilarity ensued. Although I didn't feel as if this incident topped my list of most embarrassing moments, a student reminded me that "those types of things happen to everyone." Man, tough crowd. I discovered, where embarrassing moments and students are concerned, I have an internal ranking scale to which my brain and nerve endings automatically refer. Let's call it the Wilkie Richter Scale. Wilkie was my high school chemistry teacher and volleyball coach. Sometimes, when trying to balance chemical equations on the chalkboard, he'd get stumped and say, "Nahhhh, that's not right." Then he'd erase his work and start over while we sat with our eyes crossed and our mouths open. He had chronic halitosis; it was so bad that no Lady Bearcat could stand to be part of the huddle. His shirts had neon green pit stains, and he rocked a perpetual wedgie. He often glorified that wedgie by donning knit coaching shorts. And Wilkie was not a thin man. At all. Sometimes people call him Bubba.One day, in his senior physics class, Wilkie felt something itchy inside his shirt. He reached down the neck to pull out a dryer sheet. He received some laughter from the class, but ultimately, it was no big deal. But Wilkie went back for more. He still felt something inside his shirt. He reached down this time to pull out a pair of his seven year old daughter's Barbie underwear. That was a 10.0 on the Wilkie Richter scale. My incidents don't even register.
What is even too easy for me?
This week is "Preschool Week" or something like that on Jeopardy! and that really sucks.
Have you no shame?
Today I watched Before Sunrise, a film starring Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy. It's my kind of movie: slow, character-driven, chock full of interesting conversation. (Although some of this conversation seemed a titch bit pretentious). I was thoroughly enjoying myself until the two were seated at an outdoor cafe (like, the first of five outdoor cafes they visit) in Vienna and Ethan Hawke told Julie Delpy he wanted to tell her a secret. He urged her to come closer so he could whisper. He coaxed her with a couple of "c'meres." When she was inches from his scruffy early 90s face, he planted a smooch on her lips. Does anyone else realize the blatant theft of this smooth move? If you remember, Kevin Bacon does the exact same thing to Ariel in Footloose after she gives him a Bible with all the dancing verses underlined to help him with his speech at the town meeting later that evening. That is the Kevin Bacon that makes me swoon. Ethan Hawke, with his greasy hair, sunken cheekbones, and leather jacket just irritates me.
Here are some pictures of our recent party. There are so many funny stories, but I am up way too late...so perhaps I am relying on some of you revelers to post your favorite anecdotes (if you can remember through the thick haze). I will add more tomorrow. Well, wait...it is tomorrow. So, later today after I sleep for five hours, teach America's youth, and watch Jeopardy! And I might take a nap. But then I'll do it. 
