Thursday, August 31, 2006

Atlas Farted

Who is Jon Cox?

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Tell Your Crew To Be Easy

I went to the open house tonight, along with approximately two (2) other seniors (Kubas and Ashley, if you must know). My new locker, H222, is blue and spacious and on top. I believe Kubas is quite nearby. We are in the cooridor of lockers directly to your left as you enter the H-Link from outside. This cooridor will henceforth be referred to as Stud Hall (see the comments on this post). Summary of my meetings with my teachers:

Mr. Pritschet: Still kicking, and punching, and being mysteriously awkward around my mom. I guess he just doesn't feel as comfortable being such a complete asshole in front of parents as he does in front of students. Still, he'll be teaching me German, which is nice.

Mr. Gilbertson: I've heard all the stories but...yeah. He was a little bit of a space cadet. He sort of failed to acknowledge us when we walked in, then answered our questions in a far off, distracted tone. Should be fun.

Mrs. Niemi: What a bundle of joy. I wish she was my grandma. Not that I would have her replace either of my current grannies; she just gives off friendly g-ma vibes. I'll wager she makes an excellent M&M cake.

Mr. Barnett: All I knew about him walking in was that he "weighed 195 and benched 365--TWICE." He kind of reminded me of a shorter, stockier, swarthier Steve Pelkey, friendly and easygoing but ready to punch out a rhino if the occasion should arise. He's from Ohio and has an OSU poster and three signature covered footballs in his room. I'm hoping for some stories.

Mr. Melby: Mmmm, this was deliciously awkward. Lots of dead space in this conversation, the silence echoing around the cavernous bandroom as the Melbster shifted uncomfortably for 8 seconds in between comments. I did learn, however, that I will be joined this year by one enterprising sophomore and a fellow senior, a transfer from LAS VEGAS. Can you spell "roomie?"

Mr. Blong: Yeah, right, like I'm going to see Blong any sooner than I'm contracturaly obligated too. Fat chance.

Mr. Hewitt: I realize I'm not taking any classes from him this year (sigh), but I needed to talk to him about some letters of reccomendation. Mostly it was an excuse to step back into the REAL mancave and take a quick trip down memory lane.

I'm getting verklempt. I'll give you a topic: Blong, Pritschet, and Barnett enter into a three way death-match. Who wins? My money's on Herr P, but I have yet to see Barnett in action.

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Wednesday, August 30, 2006

why i hate BHS

not only did the parking ticket cost $40

but the scratched up lenny is forced to park in the


on account of the fact that the senior lot was


what the m, yo.

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i just learned that filip kuba, my favorite hockey player, favorite sports name, and distant relative, signed with the tampa bay lightning.

so long, little buddy.

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Math Is A Wonderful Thing

I had a feeling summer was winding down, but I finally got my proof yesterday.

My top two accomplishments for Tuesday, August 29th:
  • I finished watching my sister's complete series DVD of Freaks and Geeks. To the unfamiliar, unfortunate many who aren't familiar with this show, I say only this: watch it. It was one of those too good for TV programs that lasted a season and a quarter before being cancelled so Micheal J. Fox could make his triumphant return to network TV. It's the most true to life show I know of, but that doesn't keep it from being on of the funniest.
  • I purchased Arrested Development Season 3. This show just refused to stop being funny even as the good people at FOX rushed to shut it down. If the names Gob, Buster, and Tobias mean nothing to you, you are missing out my friend. I have yet to crack open season 3 (watching AD is definitely a social activity, and my fellow AD freaks are out of town at the moment), but I'm going to try to finish them before school starts. Homework has a way of getting in the way of my sittin' around time.

Also: I spent a lot of my downtime yesterday surfing the web with high speed internet. It's real nice. My highlights were this preview of a bitchin' Wii game called Red Steel, and these Sam Walker porno sites.

Hey all you U of M nerds, when do you leave for school? And Josh Mattson, when do you leave for your exciting new career? Everybody make sure to keep blogging. If I can make time in my busy schedule at BHS to post 3 or 4 times a day, surely you can fill some of your gaping spans of downtime with a little post now and then.

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two-a-days: not for sissies

so, i know you've all missed my presence on the blog lately, but i've been getting my ass kicked two times a day, every day, in these wretched football football practices and haven't had much time to participate. mr. lade may claim "AP's not for sissies!" but two-a-day football practices are more difficult, i assure you. in fact, i don't even know what's going on anymore; i live my day-to-day life with a headache and in a haze. they did a study once and found that soccer players actually LOSE IQ points from "heading" the ball over a season. if that's the case, i wonder how many IQ points i've lost from tackling things with my head for 5-6 hours a day. it's too bad most of us are seniors and can no longer join football to enjoy the two-a-day practice, but for you underclassmen, i highly recommend joining next year just for the occasion. there's just something in a man's genes that say "JOIN FOOTBALL AND BE A MAN!" be a man, indeed. since we don't live in a society of constant war (tay is NOT allowed to comment on that, although i'd like some back-up concerning football and my point of this post) young males find the need to satisfy their bloodlust for battle in other ways - opting for the gridiron. i'm not one to say "you're only a MAN if you play football" but i've found that it is an intense test of character that many make fun of (i.e. let's make fun of chet) but in the end are just too weak, physically and especially mentally, to do it themselves. in my opinion, it's one of the toughest things to get through, second to boot camp, medical school, or possibly NASA training camp. it's one of those things that is so utterly stupid, and so rigorous, that when you finally conquer it, the feeling is awesome because you've gotten through something difficult, and the only thing you've got to show for it is your growth as a person that no one else understands. so, i create this post in honor of high school football across the nation, and also in honor of lost IQ points and running down the field in football pads for 20 minutes with no end in sight.....and hey, where else can you hold hands and slap the asses of other men and not be called gay?

by the way - kubas, you better hang that sign from your trumpet and supply me with handwarmers.

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Tuesday, August 29, 2006

fun fact i bet you didn't know

about a week ago i learned something interesting:

mr. hewitt is (sort of) my neighbor.

i didn't have a picture of him, so i decided to type "alan hewitt" into google images and post the first thing that came up. studly.

he lives a few houses down that way. ------> in case my family ever moves the computer from this current location...or if mr. hewitt changes households, i will be sure to fix the arrow accordingly so you all can still find his house.

according to mapquest (a very reliable source) he lives .48 miles away. not too shabby. the instructions to get to his house are as follows:

"turn left onto memorywood drive." hey! i can do that!

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Monday, August 28, 2006

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense

"If you try hard enough, you can start virtually any essay with one of my quotations."

~Emily Dickinson

I realize this will be my 5th post in two days, but you need to realize that I just spent 3 hours hammering out my third, and hopefully final, essay for one question on this Questbridge application. 660 words of pure pain, baby. Oh, and Wanninger, you play a prominent supporting role in this one! It's semi-fictionalized, but what what questbridge don't know can't hurt it, eh?

Now, let the blog healing begin: I can now say that I am officially excited about a video game for the first time since Halo 2 came out. The Nintendo Wii should be coming out sometime before Christmas. It is projected to cost a mere $250, or a little more than a third of the ridiculously priced $600-$700 PS3. But the best part is the kick-ass new control system.

It's a two part controller which, along with the usual buttons and joysticks, contains a set of sensors designed to monitor it's angle, elevation, and speed and direction of movement. I'm terribly pumped about the possibilities for this system: good old-fashioned running and jumping, wicked hot light-gun shooter action, and, my personal favorite, sword swinging, slashing and stab stab stabbing excitment. The two controller set-up should also allow for one hand to be the sword and the other the sheild, or for one to weild, say the LIGHTSABER and the other the various force powers. Aw yeah.

Most games should also be playable with the old Gamecube controller, but I'm hoping those who are on thier feet and swinging (like me) will have a decided advantage over those who choose to stay planted on their fat asses (Josh Mattson).

Cons: No Hal0 3. No MGS 4. I guess I'll have to visit Josh Ellens a little more than usual...

Sam Walker, do you have any additional information about the Wii? You seem like the kind of guy who would know. Well, you and Logan. But I don't know if he even reads this blog. Logan, if you are a Mustache visitor, please leave a comment on this post. And a link would be nice.

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Here's my library logo design. They may as well just send me the $300 prize right now. Who's gonna beat this? Nobody, that's who. Posted by Picasa

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Lolita, Light Of My Life

This application is proving to be more trouble than it's worth. My latest quandry is the question "If you could be part of any historical event, what would it be? Please answer in 30 words or less." Answers I've rejected so far:
  • Woodstock.
  • Game 7 of the 1991 World Series. That would be fucking nuts.
  • The Kennedy assasination. I'd take the bullet for JFK.
  • The McKinley assasination. I'd tackle Leon.
  • The Regan assasination attempt. I'd be the second shooter.

Right now, I'm thinking maybe something in the Progressive era, because that was a pretty special time. Or hell, maybe even the Constitutional Convention. Any thoughts on where and when YOU would be if you had the choice?

In other news, the Kitchigami Regional Library is having a contest to design their new logo. Rules:

  • Each original design no larger than 3" by 3"
  • Designs must be submitted by September 30th, 2006
  • Designer must be current library cardholder and live within library region (Beltrami, Cass, Crow Wind, Hubbard, and Wadena Counties)
  • Design "must have image that is readily associated with libraries and library service and could refer to Kitchigami Regional Library's geographical location.

The winner will recieve a $300 award. My proposed design...could not be posted due to blogger difficulties. I'll try to get it up here soon. Rest assured, it's amazing.

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First and foremost: 25 bonus points to the first person who can answer: What was the first thing I did when I returned home?

This morning my alarm went off at 6:50 AM. Man, that was early.

On account of the fact that I'm currently on "Parental Probation," Maxwell and I hit the road in the comfort (and luxurious style) of the new "Mustachemobile," or as most call it, the 1991 Nissan Maxima. Perhaps it wasn't too luxurious, but the sweet rhythm of Birdland made up for it.

We pulled near the fair at about 11:30. Max was like, "Hey, let's park here."

Lady: "That'll be $25 and I need your keys."
Kubas: "This sounds sketchy."
Max: "I think we'll look somewhere else."

We did some illegal parking, found a few really nice young kids, and then parked about 4 blocks away for $5. WHAT A DEAL!

Anyway, today I lost my state fair virginity. I have to say, I'm not really a fan of fairs in general, and apparently my body language screamed that.

Max every 5 minutes: "Kubas, don't look so pissed off. Enjoy yourself."

Apparently we Minnesotans live by an "unspoken rule" at the state fair: Eat something crazy. Perhaps it was my full summer carnie experience 2 years ago, or my 32 hours of Elks Booth Madness this year, but I think I've learned over the years a simple lesson: don't trust fair food. This would explain the woodwind-like flatulance coming from Max's anus.

My personal highlights:

  • I think it's safe to say that Mrs. Folkeringa is comfortable around me. Instead of the typical "Hi, how are you blah blah blah" that most mothers would say when greeting someone...the first words out of her mouth directed towards me were as follows: "So, did you try the Governor-on-a-stick?"
  • I wouldn't say I have a fear of cows, but I'm certainly not comfortable around them. As we were leaving the 1040 lb. pig, we witnessed a parade of cows--featuring a chocolate milk producer--and they all seemed to look me square in the eye.
  • Immediately afterwards Max had the "genius" idea to visit the horse barn. As Maxwell was sprinting behind the dozens of beasts, it hit me, these things could kill me with one blow of their hoof. It didn't help any that this one BEASTLY horse took a pizzle all over the floor near my foot. Yum. Horse pee.
  • During the warmup session of the marching entire flock of Folkeringas appeared out of nowhere. I began counting: "One..two...three....EIGHT!" Visualize with me: As I worked my way examining this rare breed from the left to the right...the first seven of them were dressed in matching UofM attire. Classy! But, as we approached the eighth Folky fellow, she refused to join in. 'Twas a shame. BUT, the highlight of this encounter was the entire Trumpet section. From directly behind my freshly shaven head I heard a glorious noise--nay a chant-- "fol-kuh-ring-guh! Fol-Kuh-Ring-Guh! FOL-KUH-RING-GUH!!!!" It was beautiful! As they began chanting, I joined in with the famous Tom Hennen "YEEEAAAH!" fistpump. I scanned the rare Folky breed: 6 of them had beaming smiles on their faces. It appeared as though the elder Mr. Folkeringa was shedding a tear--but I have a theory he had something in his eye and/or allergies. my eyes made their progression towards a young Ms. Gracia Folkeringa I saw the funniest thing in my life: She displayed THE reddest face in embarrassment. Someday you'll realize, you're family is waaaayyyy too amazing. [This moment, so far, is up for the 'Andrew Kubas Highlight of the Year.' Other nominees include 'Driving with Pelk and Midge,' 'The Max Kuehn-You-Say-Potato Moment,' and 'Spring Break 2006.']
  • I am now...officially...Nina's babysitter on weekends. (Fingers crossed)

I think I said this nine times today: I'm SO excited for the indoor marching band concert. If they can sound this good with just FIVE days of rehearsal--imagine a full 4 months! I want to buy the tickets now!!!

As Max kind of pointed out...I seemed to have a "realization" of sorts while watching the band play. It was just like, "Would I want to do this a year from now?" I don't think I would want to do that in college. It's too much effort--ESPECIALLY--considering it's all voluntary. (And considering who could potentially join me in the trumpet section) Then it kind of hit me again...I don't think I have ANY desire to go to the U. Maybe I'm on crack, and maybe I'm missing a good thing...but I think I'm just supposed to go far away.

...One of my goals today was to steal as many free items as possible. I took 2 things. This hat, from which I received 4 individual compliments, has yet to leave my manly hair.

In case you can't read that website, you can click here. Yup, I know my Minnesota House of Representatives!

Also, as one last item of interest, tomorrow...well "today," August 28th, is Thomas Day's birthday. He's the big 1-8. Wish him a happy birthday.

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Sunday, August 27, 2006

Everyone Has A Valve

I've slammed out about 8 pages worth of essay for this damned Questbridge application, but nothing seems to stick. I'm beginning to doubt whether it's worth all this shit.

Anyways, I got frustrated and wrote the first part of this abortive essay, mostly to blow off some steam. I think it's pretty entertaining in a sad kind of way. Notice the thesis statement to start and the start of my next paragraph below. Also, present tense. Two thumbs up!

My greatest moments of self-doubt come during the revision process of an academic essay.
No crushing loss of confidence is possible without an initial overload of self-assurance. When I write the first draft of a paper, I am utterly certain of its brilliance. Words flow from my mind through my fingers, spilling out onto the page. A strong, clear introduction leads to my profound thesis statement. Daring and audacious, this thesis demands a masterwork of support to allow the ignorant masses to embrace its startling, uncomfortable truth. I alone posses the skill to defend so bold a statement. Whatever style the subject matter dictates, I supply it with ease. Some sentences are long and languid, overrun with alliteration, comma after comma guiding the reader through the passage with steady, flowing rhythm, pulled out to 50, 60, 70 words, as long as is needed to express the vital power and beauty of my thought. I do not write run-on sentences; my phrasing simply demands encores. Clearly, I am above punctuation, and brevity for that matter. Which is not to say that I cannot be succinct. Indeed, I am renowned for my tough, terse, athletic prose. I don’t have to bother with flashy figurative language. My words cut to the heart of the matter. Commas are taboo. I demand respect, an artist with none of the usual pretense of sophistication. The only real hint of my blistering intelligence is my expansive vocabulary. Scholars and laymen alike are compelled to reach for their dictionaries whenever they read my work. Pages and pages of notes must be made to plumb the true depths of my meaning. Just as the reader reaches a climax of literary enthrallment, my thrilling conclusion begins. A crescendo of reinforcing statements culminates in the thunderous chord of my thesis statement, restated in the grandest manner possible, with the complimentary tones of my arguments ringing beneath it.
I present my paper to my sister or mother, my reliable proofreaders. I include a red pen, mostly as a formality.

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Dream Big!

I'm writing this instead of a scholarship app essay. Good for me!

Kubas and I rolled out of town at 8 this morning, bound for glory and the State Fair. On the ride down, Kubas' crippled iPod somehow kept up the tunes for almost the entire trip, enough time for plenty of Stevie Wonder, Mambo Italiano, Chuck Mangionie, and Birdland. It eventually conked out, but we had a backup in the form of my iPod and an old stray speaker I found. Not tons of volume, but enough power to get us through to our parking spot with some Clarence Carter and Nuclear Balloon Arrows.

Fair Food Facts--
Items Consumed:
1. Pancake-sized, deep-fried pork patty overflowing a large bun
2. Small lemonade
3. Kiwanis chocolate malt
4. Bottled water
5. Foot long corndog
6. Root Beer
Analysis: There is an unspoken rule at the Minnesota State Fair: every day you attend the fair, you must eat at least one ridiculous food item. The dinner plate-sized pork patty filled my requirment for today. Kubas joined me in only the malt and root beer purchases. My only on-a-stick item of the day, the corndog, has resulted in an unfortunate bout of stomach cramps and uncontrollable flatulance. My valve has closed. Wish me luck.

  • Kubas and I watched some of an excellent 4-H production entitled "Dream Big!" We stayed long enough to hear the title track (a guitar, vocalist ballad duet) and a marvelously awkward version of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing."
  • We saw the largest boar in Minnesota. He weighed 1040 pounds. His name was corndog.
  • A man passing on the street complimented my Manly Mustaches shirt. Yessss.
  • The U of M marching band was terrific. We socialized with Jacob and Jennifer and watched all the sections tune and the drummers warm up. The performance was in parade fashion, so Kubas and I ran alongside to catch all the songs. I'll leave the more exact descriptions to Kubas, but we both decided that we didn't really see ourselves marching one year from today.
  • Deprived of any sort of iPod music on the drive home, we were at the mercy of local radio stations. Of course it was the Power Loon that eventually came through with Money For Nothing, timed perfectly with the sunset. I wrote a post once about rocking out to that song while driving. You should go find it.
All done with this post. Oh goodness, now I have nothing to do but write that essay. Oh wait, I got high speed yesterday! I can spend the next several hours watching YouTube videos! That was a close one.

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Saturday, August 26, 2006

Mind Bullets

A little bird told me that to promote its new album and movie, Tenacious D will be going on tour this fall. Except for the Winnipeg Folk Festival, I've never been to a proper concert before. What better way to start than with the rockingest band of all time?

I wonder if they'll resist playing their classics, try to push the new material. Things could get ugly: "Come on! You know what we came for! Now do 'Inward Singing' before we rush the stage!"

Demand will be through the roof, no doubt. We'll have to organize to get everyone from Brainerd to the concert. We could take the Licoln, or a school bus if we wanted to save on gas.

Distances I would be willing to drive to see the D:
East: Philidelphia
South: St. Louis
North: Winnipeg
West: Billings

Scholarship applications have got me down, but hopefully the State Fair (and a U of M marching band performance) will bring me back up. Go Gophers!

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maybe you should stay with me

Ladies and Gentlemen,

As we approach the midterm elections, I am sure you are aware that many states/parties either have...or will be participating in their primaries. As one of the founders of The Bread Party, I believe it is time to "rise up" and get a jumpstart on starting with 2006.

The Bread Party has "crumbled" down a list of thousands of "manly mustaches" and worthy candidates to just 6. We will be proceeding as follows:

We will partake in a "running primary" lasting through Saturday, September 2nd. Voting will be open to all registerd Bread Partiers. (You can cast your vote[s] by clicking on our newest poll on the sidebar) You will vote only for the 6 candidates on the ballot. Once the votes are tabulated, this will occur:

The individual to receive the most votes will be nominated as The Bread Party's Presidential candidate in 2008.

The individual who attains the 2nd most votes will run as the Vice Presidential candidate in 2008.

The individual receiving the 3rd most votes will become the endorsed Gubernatorial candidate for our great state of Minnesota.

The individual that takes fourth in these Primary elections will be our endorsed Senatorial candidate for Minnesota.

The two individuals with the lowest tally of votes will be abolished from The Bread Party forever.

Basically, there is a lot at stake in these Primary elections. So...let's introduce you to the candidates.

First on the ballot: Dr. Z.

He has become quite popular lately with the advertising of Dodge/Chrysler. What's not to love? You have the handlebar mustache, a staunch German accent, and his very own website. (Just try typing "mustache" into google images--see how high up he is on the list!)

Next up: The highly anticipated Mr. Melby.

The man is a musical genius. He plays the breads unlike anyone I have ever heard. More importantly, he's a man of character and will lead our nation in the right direction.

Third person up for voting: Tom Selleck

Perhaps we're going old school...but just look at that mustache! If Reagan can go from movie star to the White House, then why can't Tom?

Your fourth voting option: Oprah Winfrey

I'm not sure if this picture was photoshopped...but if any woman could grow a mustache I'd place bets on her. She has a worldwide television program, her own magazine, and for some reason is quite popular among the female and African American voters. Can you say "leader of The Bread Party?"

You also have the option of voting for: Phil Olsen

If you have yet to check out his website, we highly encourage you to do so. He defines the rugged and unorthodox lifestyle which will all secretly desire to have. He's yet another worthy candidate.

The last hopeful is an outright legend: Bigfoot

He is, essentially, a walking mustache. (All cute and fuzzy) By the looks of it, he consumes a lot of bread and would be a great ambassador to people unfamiliar with our grainy goodness.

With that, the polls are now open. (If you are interested in the stance of The Bread Party on certain issues, please feel free to click here.)

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Thursday, August 24, 2006

The Most Manly of the Competitors

I was on Wikipedia to read about Linn Creek, Missouri and I couldn't help but search for Mustaches. If you have time you should defiantly read through the article, it's very interesting.

For example, did you know...
  • Some common vernacular terms for the moustache are stache, tache, tash, pushbroom and mo.
  • In some countries, it was obligatory for soldiers to grow moustaches. The British Army, for instance, forbade the shaving of the upper lip by all ranks from the 19th century until the regulation was abolished by an Army Order dated 6 October, 1916.
  • An English moustache was formerly used in Melodramas, movies and comic books as a shorthand indication of villainy. Snidely Whiplash, for example, was characterized by his moustache and his cape
  • The Moustache has engendered the invention of quite a wide variety of accoutrements designed for the care of a gentleman's moustache, including moustache wax, moustache nets (snoods), moustache brushes, moustache combs and moustache scissors. The moustache cup is a drinking cup with a partial cover to protect the upper lip from froth in the drink

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"mommy can i visit funkytown?"

someone...SOMEBODY had senior pictures today. i'll give you a clue: it was me. i'll give you my input: WAYYYY too expensive.

are the online predators finally coming around to the mustaches? just check out the stats:

Linn Creek, Missouri: 19 visitors
West Frankfort, Illinois: 13 visitors
Denver, Colorado: 10 visitors

does anyone have connections to these areas?

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Wednesday, August 23, 2006

You and I

Today I was really late getting home. So I tried driving a bit wasn't too good. It kind of hit me: Man, I spend a lot of time in the Neon.

Final figures:

1613 miles driven.
24 hours spent in the Neon.

I could go on with boring details, but I'll save them for your imagination. These would be the 3 best pictures. Ever.

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Tuesday Heartbreak

Important stuff from the BHS website.

New GPA Calculation
Beginning with this year’s sophomores, the class of 2009, we are changing the method used to calculate grade point average (GPA). The current method used to determine GPAs does not reward additional credits taken and actually penalizes students who take both weighted (Advanced Placement) and non-weighted courses. The new method will utilize dual weighting to reward both rigorous course selection and overall credits earned.
(Logan can finally sleep at night.)

Military Requests
In accordance with federal statutes, the military requests the names, gender, address, telephone number, and school name of students in the 11th grade to provide information about military opportunities. If you would like your child's name eliminated from the list, please call the guidance office (454-6298) by Friday, October 6th. Thank you.
(Fuck the po-lice.)

P.S.: Has anyone ever heard of Questbridge? It's some scholarship organization that sent me an email and a letter. It looks pretty good so I'm working on an application, but I'd appreciate any info anyone has. Oh, and I'm thinking about Pritschet and Hewitt as my references. I just don't think dub and Lade would qualify...

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Read Your Econ, Or Else!

Posting this pic here partly because I need to host it for my profile, but also because this is how I envision Mr. Barnett.

Look at that mustache!

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Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Toughest Son Of A Bitch I Ever Met

I went to the high school yesterday to see why my schedule had no locker number or combo on it. The lady in the guidance office told me that I was one of about 50 seniors who hadn't recieved an H-link locker. Needless to say, I was pretty pissed; butI kept my cool while she made some excuses. She asked if I wanted to pick out an A, B, or D locker or if I wanted to wait for an H to open up. I opted for the latter.

"Here," she said "you're first on the waiting list." She pulled out a list of names, found mine on it, and wrote a big red "#1" next to it.

So I guess now all I can do is wait for one of my peers to drop out, die, or get arrested. Sam Walker suggested I target someone and help them along one of those paths, but I think I'll just let nature run its course.

P.S.: Kubas--I got an awesome yellow dress shirt at JC Penny's the other day. I'm totally going to wear this thing to all non-tux band functions.

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Monday, August 21, 2006

Eddie Kim Will Kill You

I found this silly Manly Mustaches Official Guidebook in my old documents. I figured I might as well put it up here. Publish or perish, as they say!

Manly Mustaches Official Guidebook
Text By Maxwell Kuehn

Table of Contents

I. Introduction
II. Appearance
III. Attitude
IV. Shooting
V. Driving
VI. Passing
VII. Playbook

Disclaimer: While reading through this booklet, you may notice that it seems to have been written for an exclusively male audience. This is not done to further any deliberately misogynistic views, merely out of the assumption that no one without a Y-chromosome could stand the sort of company one would be forced to keep in order to attend practices and games. Team members will have to keep the company of, on a weekly basis, Josh Johnson, a wisecracking jackass with terrible hair. Also, the name “Manly Mustaches” may be off-putting for some of the fairer sex. We wish to assure you that membership on the team will be based solely on basketball skills, and that any whisker-based considerations will be entirely inconsequential. Which is not to say that women are incapable of growing facial hair; with the help of daily affirmations and hormone therapy, many women are able to grow impressive beards and mustaches, often leading to a stable livelihood in a traveling circus. No offense is meant to bearded women who choose non-sideshow based professions; many a mustachioed women has gone on to long and celebrated career as an accountant, pilot, or doctor.
I. Introduction

In this world, is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law? Is it like the hand of God, hovering above? At least it is true that man has no control, even over his own will. However, there is a way to break loose and seize your destiny by the horns: Join the Manly Mustaches. This rouge band of vengeful samurai have taken it upon themselves to punish the wicked…at basketball. Yes, only through the basic, primal struggle of a basketball game can justice truly be served to those most deserving, by those with the maddest skill sets. To thrive, you need only be pure of heart and driven to succeed. And tall, tall is good. The path before you is not easy; it is fraught with dangers and obstacles, real and imagined, external and within. But those who stay the course will receive a reward beyond anything they can imagine: A really bitchin’ T-shirt.

II. Appearance

Appearance is the first subject covered for a reason: style is everything! No matter how little true abilities or skills you posses, if you play with flair, you come out on top. Don’t listen to people who claim that points and rebounds and wins matter; they are nerds who are angry because what you do won’t fit into their calculators. Not sure if you agree? Take this simple test. Which situation do you prefer?

After a full shot-clock’s worth of smothering defense, the opposing team is forced to throw up a poor shot. The center pulls down the rebound, hands off to the point guard. He takes it slowly up the court, allowing his team to set up a simple play. Everybody sets picks, passes to the open player, and constantly shouts encouragements. A forward works for a little bit of space, gets the ball, and puts up a midrange jumper. He runs up to follow, but it drops in, so he turns and sprints to catch up with the rest of his team, already back on defense. Crickets chirp.
Playing to the crowd, your team is too busy posing and joking to play defense. The opposing point guard drives in for a lay-up, but the center fouls him hard. The ref whistles, and he and the center gets into a shouting match before being ejected to rousing applause. Both free throws swish through, but no one cares. The center inbounds off the back of an opposing player, then whips it down to half-court to the small forward, who rolls the ball on the ground before flicking it over his opponent with his feet. The forward then kicks the ball out of mid-air to another player, who throws a no look to the center, who storms down the lane, knocking over two opponents. The center goes to the hoop, but passes at the last moment to the point guard at the top of the key, who throws up a behind the back alley-oop off the backboard to an onrushing forward. The backboard shatters, and the whole team starts doing push-ups. The ref blows his whistle, calls your team for kicking, traveling, un-sportsmanlike conduct, and four offensive fouls. All five players converge on the ref, yelling and shouting until they’re all thrown out. The crowd goes wild.

If you picked B, congratulations! You’re a perfect fit for the team. What’s your T-shirt size? If, however, you picked A, you may as well just drop this booklet, hike your pants up even further, charge your calculator battery, and go buy Spurs season tickets.

The Manly Mustaches Look
A. The T-shirt
If you’ve followed all the protocols correctly, you ought to have your T-shirt by now. Look at it. Hold it in your hands. Go to school naked, except for the T-shirt. It is the biggest perk of team membership. You must wear it at all times on the court, and preferably when off it. Machine wash, tumble dry.

B. The Shorts
Wear your shorts as low or high as you please. Not too low, or people will think you think you’re black. You’re not. Or, you’re almost certainly not, if this pamphlet is to be distributed solely within the Brainerd Lakes Area. Anyways, no one needs to see your boxers (or briefs, if you like it snug), but it can be equally bad, if not worse, to pull your waistband up to nipple-height. If you feel a desire to do so, you’re done. Turn in your T-shirt and go buy some suspenders and a new pocket protector.

C. The Shoes
That black guy in those old MJ commercials is right: It is the shoes. Any shoes are all right, although flip-flops may prove problematic. High-tops can be very stylish, Chuck Taylors are always in, and ratty old gym-shoes are all the rage. The really important part is inside the shoe: Dr. Scholl’s gel insoles. They give you the support and confidence you need to play your very best. Plus, you get can make hilarious references to those “Are you gellin’?” commercials. Remember those? Those were great.

D. The Accessories
Accessories are by far the most important part of your uniform. Those seven armbands and platinum fronts are the only thing separating you from any average Joe with a rocking T-shirt. Tattoos can be an vital ingredient in your look, and don’t worry about removal: a simple combination of lasers and acid can sear your skin back to normal once you tire of your “ink.” Gaudy jewelry, in moderation, can add to your persona. The extra weight is well worth it. When your opponent dashes by you on a fast-break, just ask yourself: would you rather outpace your rival by half a step down the court, or absolutely blow him out of the water in terms of “bling?” Your fans will agree. Heavy rings can also come in handy when the inevitable bench-clearing brawls occurs each game.

III. Attitude
How you conduct yourself on and off the court is a major part of the Manly Mustaches experience. You are an ambassador to the world, the charge de` affaires for our team to the rest of the earth’s residents. Just remember: You are way better than all those other assholes. Give no respect, and demand everything in return. In short, represent. Slight variations on this main theme apply to interactions with different members of society.

A. Teammates
Your teammates are the only people who even come close to you in terms of social standing, which means you must work especially hard to tear down and discredit them. While physical violence can solve most disputes easily and cleanly, verbal attacks can often be just as damaging without the risks associated with Mortal Kombat. Attack weight, height, intelligence, anything to gain the upper hand. If you are unable to find any weaknesses to exploit in your target, simply make hyperbolic observations about how his mother is so fat that the back of her neck looks like a pack of hot dogs.

B. Opponents
If you can put off ripping on your fellow Mustaches for a moment, it’s always good to get in a few shots at the members of the opposing squad. If your adversary seems to be “spitting hot fire” with his insults, a quick elbow to the ribs or slap to the nuts ought to shut him up. If not, complain to the ref.

C. Non- Team Members
Common citizens, or “normys” as we call them, are in every way beneath you. They are lucky merely to be in your presence and to bask in the soft glow of your aura. Members of the proletariat may feel compelled to throw themselves at your feet, and custom demands that you walk across them. Just try not to kill anyone. That tends to lead to lots of red tape, and sometimes even a token court appearance.

D. The Ref
Here is where your attitude really becomes important. Just pretend that the ref is a great friend of yours, and by making any call against you, no matter how obvious, he is violating the terms of your loving friendship. Practice holding your hands out, palms up, while keeping the expression of utmost shock and disgust on your face. How could you do this to me, ref? After all we’ve been through? If you feel a call is particularly unjust, or you’re tired and want to go shower, get into a shouting match with the ref. See how close you can get to his face before he throws you out. It’s fun! Be sure to make the most of your ejection, slamming the ball or throwing it into the stands, swearing at fans, taking off your T-shirt as you leave the gym, all that good stuff.
VI. Shooting

Jump shots may seem archaic and boring when applied to the Manly Mustaches style of play. After all, who wants to make a 15-foot jumper when they could just as easily miss badly on a twirling, traveling behind the back floater? However, if used sparingly, from the correct locations, and with plenty of theatrics, jump shots can form an important part of any performance, or “game.”

A. Location
The most important thing to remember when locating your shots is to always, always, always be behind the three-point arc. Balls shot from this range that pass through the hoop are worth three points instead of two, helping to offset your terrible defense. This may strike you as a “low percentage” strategy, but tis nobler to set aloft a Hail Mary half-court hook and bean a teammate than to sink a boring, routine midrange jump shot.

B. Technique
Not important. You can throw the ball up there any way you please, lefty, one handed, jump hook, header, eyes closed, pelvic thrust, dropkick, behind the back, whatever. Just get it into the air so you can start playing to the crowd.

C. Theatrics
By far the most vital part of shooting the ball, this is where you decide if you will be a boring nerd who throws up all bricks or a maverick showman who isn’t afraid to miss a few shots. Just remember: no matter how badly you suck at shooting, people will forget all about it if you can entertain them. Because of its importance, this topic will be divided into two categories: Before The Shot, and After The Shot. All moves are put into brackets, allowing for easy reference when studying plays.

1.Before The Shot
Before even thinking about your playacting, ask yourself: Am I behind the arc? If not, get their quick. Once you have the ball, {check your feet}, putting your toes just outside the line. Lick a finger and hold it aloft to {test the wind}. If you plan to bank the shot, {call bank}. Really, you can always {call bank}, even if you don’t plan to bank the shot, just to be a badass. Shoot the ball.

2. After The Shot
After completing your shooting motion, keep your shooting hand in the air and {hold it}. Keep your eyes on your shot, even as you {backpedal} back on defense, because why should you follow when you know it’s going in? Continue to {hold it} as you {backpedal}, going as far as possible down the court.

V. Driving

The basis of any fundamentals-challenged showboat’s game comes when he “puts the ball on the floor” and “takes it to the hole.” Drives are flashy, selfish, dangerous, and totally badass; in other words, a perfect fit for the Manly Mustaches style of play. As you are almost certainly unable to dunk (being a 17 year old white boy from central Minnesota), you will have to settle for spinning, leaping floaters and ridiculous, or “stupid,” lay-ups.

A. Starting The Drive
Often the most difficult part of beginning your run at the hoop is getting by your opponent. You may want to execute a {crossover}, use a massive {head fake}, or simply bounce the ball between their legs in a classic {nutmeg} maneuver, making huge, jerky movements to heighten the effect. Once your opponent is lying dazed on the floor, both his ankles twisted in entirely wrong directions and bleeding like Curt Schilling, you can enter the lane.

B. In The Lane
Hold the ball like a loaf of bread, twirling and throwing elbows in your fight for the hoop. Don’t worry about traveling calls: those are for timid rookies. Whenever possible, make eye contact with your opponent, just to let him know who’s boss. Try to keep staring at him even as you put the ball towards the hoop, {no look lay-up} style. If anyone dares to make contact with you, throw the ball towards the hoop and send yourself sprawling across the floor. A foul call should follow; if not, feel free to scream at the ref. That’s somebody’s kid out there!

C. At the Hoop
Once you get within range, you have a wide variety of options. You can send up a {finger roll}, go {under the leg}, or turn around and throw a wild shot {over your shoulder} like Kobe after his latest acquittal. Anything is possible. Bounce the ball of the backboard to yourself, hold it in your teeth, stick your arm in the rim, whatever. If by some miracle the ball goes in, do your best to grab it, lay it in again, then drop it because it is so hot from your mad drive.

VI. Passing

Many astute, thoughtful people have questioned the importance of passing. After all, what possible good can come from deliberately giving the ball to someone other than you? Actually, there are several benefits that can be derived from this antiquated concept. Firstly, if you can trick other team members into passing, they will often give the ball back to you. Also, passing can be an excellent opportunity for hot-dogging if done well, or at least flashily.

A. Standard (Boring) Passes
A bounce pass hits the floor once before coming to a teammate’s hands. A chest pass is tossed through the air directly to a teammate. Don’t worry about practicing these techniques; you will virtually never use them.

B. Irregular (Hardcore) Passes
If you must give the ball away, you might as well do it with a bang. Even if your pass sails far wide or low or high of its target, your fans will remember the passer, not the pass. There are several varieties of irregular passes, ranging from way cool to totally tubular.

{No Look}
When executing a {no look} pass, make sure you look in the complete opposite direction of your pass. Nothing could be less of a giveaway than a sudden head jerk to the right, just before a pass left. Whoa! Who saw that coming? He wasn’t even looking that way!
{Behind The Back}
{Between The Legs}
{Over The Shoulder}
{In The Shirt}
If your shirt is sufficiently large, simply stuff the ball up it so the ball rests against your stomach. Now spin the ball to your left and watch your opponent double take as the ball comes out on the right side and sails to teammate. He will often be able to score unmolested as your opponents will be frozen with awe and reluctant to touch the ball now that it’s been doused in your stinky belly sweat.
VII. Playbook
Once you master the basics of hammy showboating, you’re ready to learn the official plays of the Manly Mustaches. You may notice that many seem to rely upon unlikely circumstances. These are included because we as a team must be prepared for any situation, be it a 2-on-none fast break, a 3-on-one fast break, or a simple dunk contest.
P.S.: I also found a 3 page single spaced document entitled The Manly Mustaches Manifesto. Classy.

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Sunday, August 20, 2006

Turn This Big Motherfucker Left!

So yesterday I was riding with Pammy and Josh when we went downtown to pick up Chris Oslund. He said he needed a ride because he didn't want to "go to Gregory Park to help set up a table and hand out anarchist literature." I thought "Huh, that's neat. Why do I never see any anarchist literature around town?"

When I got home last night, I found this on my kitchen table.

I asked my mom where it was from. She said "Oh, there was a table set up at the park with stacks of flyers held down by rocks."

I think "Wait until you are out of their custody, then organize for justice" is my favorite part.

Hopefully this image will be high enough quality to read. There's actually some useful info in it.

P.S.: Does anyone know which band did the music video at the end of Snakes On A Plane? And Wanninger, have you seen it yet?

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Saturday, August 19, 2006

The Beatdown

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Friday, August 18, 2006

Do As I Say And You Live

Work: I've recently come to appreciate just how cush-cush my job is. Four hours a night, and most of it is just standing around, or sitting on a stool if I'm lucky. So I really have nothing to be disgruntled about, but I still get pissed when someone walks around my podium and tries to fuck around with my charts. I have to fight the urge to say "Hey, excuse me, asshole, but would you stop screwing around with my work shit? Do I come where you work, knock the broom out of your hands?"

Fantastic Burrito: Are my mom and I the only people who refer to Fantasia Burrino (the third American Idol winner) as Fantastic Burrito?

Music: Kurt asked me for some help with the soundtrack for the movie, but my music collection doesn't really lend itself to a non-stop action flick. I mean, even Space Jam had a couple of ballads in there. What are some badass fighting songs?

Gogle: Josh Mattson introduced me to this fine term. Gogle: to ogle someone/something so hard your eyes pop out--like goggles. She was goglin' at me all night.

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mr. bundy's schedule

let me know if you've got anything with me, everyone...i'm becoming a little paranoid about a few of my selections as far as classmates are concerned....

1 - journalism with vandeputte
2 - ap physics with gilbertson
3 - ap spanish with qualley
4 - ap calculus with blong
5 - ap lang with niemi

1 - ap lang nieme
2 - ap physics gilbertson
3 - ap spanish qualley
4 - ap calc blong
5 - REGULAR american government with whalen - somebody PLEASE be in this class

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Manly Pitstop #1

well look at this. i'm here for like 10 hours and gone again.

all i have to say: i took 2 pictures of the MANLIEST streets/towns in america. too bad the camera is 300 miles away, but you get the drift. i'll be sure to post 'em once i get the camera back.

for the non-believers: coming home i had to stop in the casino. +$50. god, i'm the luckiest mustache alive.


1st pelkey (same 2nd semester)
2nd neimi (same 2nd semester)
3rd qualley (same 2nd semester)
4th melby (same 2nd semester)
5th gilbertson (same 2nd semester)
6th whalen 2nd semester: borash

god dominican, max, we only have one class together!

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Snakes On Crack

Schedules are in for the 06-07 school year at BHS. Drumroll please...

AP German 5, Pritschet
AP Physics I, Gilbertson
AP Calculus I, Blong J
Symphonic Band, Melby P
AP English Lang Composition, Niemi C
AP Microeconomics, Barnett

Semester two is the same, except I'll have Calc II, Macroecon, and for some reason "Lang Composition" is changed to "Lang/Composition."

Analysis: Most of the interesting info on this schedule is in the Teacher column. Pritschet, Gilby, Blong, and Melby are still here, so I'm happy about that. This Barnett character concerns me somewhat; anybody know who he is? I heard he was some hired gun, brought in just to teach Econ. Oddly, his is the only class that doesn't have anything in the "Room" column. Perhaps finding the location of the class is the first step on the way to truly learning economics...

P.S.: Homeroom--SCon, or South Conference Center. Please please please let it not be with Heise. I'd lose my shit every time. And I have no Locker or combo on this sheet. Does anybody?

P.P.S.: My new homeroom assignment already had me down about no more Mr. Lade, but an extra notice compounded this depression: AP Art History is among the courses dropped this year. I wonder who will be in his primo room this year?

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I'm Gonna Open Up Some Muthafucking Windows

So I saw this movie with a black guy and some legless reptiles and an aircraft.

But the interesting part came after the movie. I was showing some friends the megaphone when I noticed a small piece of paper tucked under my windsheild wiper. Here's the front part:

Mysterious, eh? No name, just a couple of numbers. Of course I thought for a half second that this piece of paper was worth $455, but the shadowy "CUSTOMER COPY" suggested that it was merely a reciept of some sort. The question was, who would leave this thing on the Lincoln? A quick look at the backside of the paper made everything clear:

The combination of the crude Picasso rendering and mock-angsty scrawl pointed me to one individual: Josh Mattson.

Plus, I happen to know that he had some serious dough coming his way (re: the big dent that got kicked in his car). So Mattson, did I guess right?

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Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Snakes on a Plane

Opening Night Tonight (thursday) 10:00

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G'Night, Old Friend!

Tons of bear-related material in the Star Tribune today. Well, really just two things, but two bear items in a day ain't bad.

First: A country singer named Troy Gentry is facing charges for shooting and killing a black bear in a pen. He had purchased the "trophy-caliber" bear for $4,650 from a Minnesota wildlife dealer. Gentry killed the bear with a bow and arrow while it was still in its cage, then tagged and registered it with the DNR as if it had been killed in the wild. He even had video edited (I'm not sure how) to make it appear that the bear was killed in the wild.

I'll leave the smartass commentary on this subject to Stephen Colbert. Here's the complete article if you're interested.

A little closer to home, Mark Trail has begun its second consecutive bear-themed storyline. I love today's strip, particularlily the last two panels. My question for you: which of the two should I have as my new profile pic for blogger? The bear looks far sillier in the second panel--she's sitting kind of like Satchel from Get Fuzzy and she's licking her chops. The vague man/bear sexual overtones (the guy's name is a porn star-ish "Buck Jones") are more overt in the last panel. So it's a toss-up.
P.S.: This strip's overuse of exclamation points rivals that of a Mad Magazine satire.
P.P.S: Click the strip for a color version.

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Tuesday, August 15, 2006

My Jungle Love (Oh Eee Oh Eee Oh)

Instead of listening to music, I've just been playing the I Shall Avenge My Father trailer over and over again. Kurt, this thing is a work of art in and of itself. Hopefully we'll finish up shooting for real tommorow and you (or ryan or johnson, but I think you would be most reliable) can start editing it. I'll publish my big rambling apology at some point, or perhaps we can just include a copy with each DVD. Say, could you put up the entire first movie onto Google video?

It's too bad I'm rejecting all other media right now, because I was snooping around for some cassette tapes to play in this rustic old boombox I found in the basement and found a couple of big boxes of my parents' old tapes. The first box was my dad's, and consisted entirely of live
Beatles shows recorded off the radio. Neat, but the highlights were yet to come. My mom's box contained a lot of Van Morrison, and a nice side1/side 2 combo with Houses of the Holy/Ziggy Stardust. But by far the best was this little gem:

Side 1: Morris Day and the Time--What Time Is It?
Side 2: Oh No, It's DEVO!

Killer. I should record those into my computer and have them both run together as one long track on my iPod.

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Monday, August 14, 2006

I Shall Avenge My Father: Coming Eventually

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Sunday, August 13, 2006

bye bye, blogger

Events listed in the order they will occur.

Well, I'm off for my manly adventure. How long will I be gone? Who knows. I'd give it a minimum of 10 days.

...Now (as custom) I need to rant to my fellow contributors...The three of you who are never here should try to pick up some slack. Otherwise, I'm sure the blog will be in great hands with Kurt and Max. What Manly Men!

To any friends who might be leaving for college while I'm away...take care! Don't work too hard, I wish I could say goodbye in person, but for now this will have to do. Hopefully I'll run into some of you over the upcoming year! For the rest who will be around when I return, I'll try to make an effort to say adios!! It's been an honor.

"Mustache Out!!"

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Oh well do you, do you do you want to?

There once was a boy named Kubas,
But his mean friends called him "Pube-oss."

He worked and worked
But wanted to play.

...Problem was,
It rained all day.

So he gathered some friends,
And they whistled a tune.

Then it struck him,
"Let's clean the band room!"

Along with four cans of nuts,
A cumberland, and gun,
Four young workers
Left the room with a run!

After two hours of work,
And absolutely no pay,
Seven smelly uniforms
Ended up saving the day!

Their spoils were hidden
For three long nights...
Surviving only
Under the Neon's trunklight.

Little Kubas
Began to holler and scream!
Then Maxwell declared,
"Just think about Halloween!"

A fashion show followed
With a cameo from the gun.
Little ol' Kubas
Had way too much fun.


Ladies and gentlemen, after "obtaining" my treasure, my room really smells. I'm smells more than usual. I need your assistance.

If you would like to help the young Mr. Kubas, please feel free to send your donation of a money order and/or air freshener to:

“The Make Kubas’ Room Smell Better Foundation” [TMKRSBF]
C/O: Andrew Kubas
702 S. 5th Street
Brainerd, MN 56401

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Saturday, August 12, 2006

you're invited... a super jackpot party!

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Friday, August 11, 2006

Andrew Kubas: Champion

At approx. 9:36 last night, I recieved a call on my cell phone as I drove home from work. The small screen on the front was lit up with the phase "Call from: Jen Den." Hmm, I thought, I wonder what Jennifer is calling about so late? I flipped the phone open with my teeth and said "Hello?"

"We got the megaphone."

I immediately remembered what was special about the evening Thursday, August 10th: Andrew Kubas, Jennifer, and Gracia and Jake Folkeringa were cleaning out the music uniform room at the High School. Work had driven the thought from my mind, but Jennifer refreshed my memory right quick by mentioning the megaphone. Kubas and I have coveted it for about two years now, giggling about it while marching band uniforms were passed out. It was Kubas who spoke next.

"Max, you need to see all the stuff we stole. Are you home?"

I had them meet me (and the rest of the treasure hunt committee) at my house. Kubas showed off his plunder, including a few awesome looking old marching band uniforms, ca. 1991, 4 jumbo tins of honey roasted peanuts, and a brand new electric staple gun. And, of course, the coup de` grace: the megaphone. It's an 8 pound stainless steel monster, complete with detachable microphone (it's kind of like a police radio thing). There were some battery issues, but after only about 5 minutes, Matt Capelle got it to emit an earsplitting siren for about 3 seconds. After that, it was all gravy. Loud, crackly gravy.

While we looked over all the other stuff they "obtained" while cleaning, I asked Kubas who got the megaphone. He said it was for me.

For me. Mine. My own. My Precious.

Seriously though, this is possibly the greatest gift I've ever recieved. Well, I did get some pretty sweet transformers one Christmas. But the megaphone is right up there.

There's so much to do with it. I can break up riots, organize riots, yell at sophmores on band tour, holler at treasure hunters, heckle referees, and even attach it to the top of my car, take the mic in through my window, and drive across the country to promote a concert to raise money for the orphanage that I grew up in. The possibilities are endless.

P.S.: We're doing one more treasure hunt this summer, August 25th. Check it out here, please.

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Thursday, August 10, 2006

I Promise

I'll have a better post up here real soon. For real this time.

I feel bad about slacking on the blog for so long. I just finished the Lord of the Rings radio series, so I should have a good post about that for anyone who isn't sick of LOTR. So EVERYBODY, right?

And Kurt, is there any way we could get the final fight scene up on the blog? Or, failing that, a blooper reel? Because those bloopers are absolutely deadly. You could make a 5 minute clip of just the mustache falling off. Oh man, the multiple takes on some of those lines from Johnson? The protein shake spit take? When Johnson kicked me in my unprotected chest, rather than my heavily padded belly, on two consecutive takes? This blog could be a place of rebirth for this fine film.

P.S.: Does kurt even come on the blog anymore? I'll have to give him a call to arms.

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Wednesday, August 09, 2006

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Good Night

do you SEE this smile on my face? DO YOU?

praise God! today "es mi dia final" with meyer's associates and teleservices. (as part of our union contract, we're required to state the phrase 'praise God' whenever referencing the fact we're quitting)

here's my shameless plug: if you, ladies and gentlemen, have ANY interest in working for MAT, feel free to click here. (why are they all smiling?)

so i have a question: does anyone want to go to 3 days? i'll drive. it will be the next mustache adventure. (or do we "need" to save it for spring break?)

we just got 2 hits from the lovely city of LA...which leads me to my next point: check out the newest mustache poll! even if you hate band/band could play an important role in deciding where we go. (wanna buy a coupon booklet?)

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Monday, August 07, 2006

I Am The Bunny That Jumps The Highest And Runs The Fastest

Oh man, I'm bored tonight. I'm down to reading a book about murder and intrigue on the Princeton campus and listening to Nuclear Balloon Arrows. SNORE.

I'm searching for the positives here. The book doesn't offer much (despite the critic's claim on the back cover that "if Scott Fitzgerald, Umberto Eco, and Dan Brown teamed up to write a novel, the result would be The Rule of Four,") the music is holding up better than expected. Particularily good are our final NBA work, Granted, and the spin-off Cafe Coranaries album, done entirely by Kurt and myself in character as Chet Stevenson, Glen Belgum, Bob Brakke, and Tim Edinger in the fictional band we created for them before their teaching careers.

I like to think that we took the normal humor that all students find in their teachers' personalities and blew it up into something far more noteworthy, silly , and kind of creepy. 6 albums (plus our Greatest Hits), over 120 songs, 3.7 hours of audio, and at least 12 minutes of quality material are nothing to scoff at. We did quite a bit with just Sound Recorder, my meager selection of instruments, and an unusually focused interest in our teachers, Chet in particular.

Hell, we even made a fine kung-fu film featuring Chet as our dastardly, scene-stealing villian. The sequel (sequal?) has been sidetracked by changing motivations and lost footage, but I hope to see it completed, perhaps before the summer is ended. Kurt, what's happening with all that?

Anyone who wants to see the first movie, or hear some of our more solid tracks, slap yourself around a little bit. If you still feel driven to see/hear it, talk to me.

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Sunday, August 06, 2006

my name is _____ and i have a(n) _____ problem

today pelkey, fred midge, and myself all ventured off into the mysterious land known as an "indian reservation."

"Behold!" declared Frederick. "It seems to be some kind of building!"

The famished Pelkey pondered, "I wonder if I can empty my bag here...Kubas, you are clearly the most attractive, intelligent, and muscular man here...What do you think?"

"Well," began Kubas, "How hard can it be to win?"

[10 minutes later]

Pelkey: "Man, I lost $10. AND 10 lbs. Can I rub your muscles?"

Fred: "Well, I'm down $23. Pelk, can I empty your bag?"

Kubas: "I lost my entire life savings. Do you have a quarter I can borrow?"


If you have the time, please watch this Perham Video. It's not only informational, but it SCREAMS "kuuuubbaaaaaass..." I want to go right now.

For more information regarding the city, allow me to direct you to their website.

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Saturday, August 05, 2006

freakin' PERHAM!

(The above is a picture of the Perham city hall)

Ladies and gentlemen, about a week ago I installed a new wonderful feature to our blog: NeoEarth. The reasons were rather simple, I wanted to see a.) where people view us from, and b.) how often they come!

(If you haven't yet checked out NeoEarth, you should!)

Anyway, a few days ago I referenced the fact that "they have computers in Perham?" (Then I had to delete that post, THANKS, Max!) Today, I once again checked out NeoEarth to see what's been happening for the Mustache blogosphere...

Folks, NeoEarth keeps track of how often someone visits--and creates a list of our most frequent viewers.

Of EACH and EVERY city on the ENTIRE earth...our 5th largest viewing audience comes to us all the way from...


I now declare...Spring Break 2007: Perham.

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Friday, August 04, 2006

You Eat Your Own Farts

We're over 300 posts. Whooo.

Movies I still want to see before the summer ends: Army of Darkness, Baseketball, Donnie Darko, and The Deer Hunter.

So I got to thinking about evolution today. Don't worry, dear Kubas, I wasn't plotting some liberal rant about the death of curiosity and the evils of willful ignorance; no, I was pondering how evolution's extremely gradual nature was to blame for a host of modern day human problems.

Our bodies are designed for short, brutal, active lives in the woods, eating pine needles and the occasional strangled chimp. For the vast majority of human history, life consisted of being born in a field, raised by wolves, running around the woods all day, mating once at 14, and dying from eating poison berries or gum infection at age 19. Now, in this cushy age of marshmallows and pedicures, our caveman (or cavewoman) genes are betraying us. Pregnant teens are chastised and shunned, when all they're doing is having young at what is scientifically their most fertile time. All of our health problems arise from our innability to stop eating vast amounts of salt and sugar and fat and meat, all because our bodies interpret these things as rarities to be devoured in excess, just in case we are forced to live off of bark and fingernails for the next few weeks. Virtually everyone I know is either dreading or still recovering from the trauma of having their wisdom teeth dug out of their head, all because for our ancestors, those extra four teeth late in life made the difference between dying of starvation and being able to crush acorns into an edible powder with their molars for a few more months.

There is a bright side to all this, however. If all those godless scientists and I are right, and assuming the human condition remains much the same as it is now for the next few million years (That's a safe bet, right? Right.), we should evolve ourselves right out of this mess. Someday, future humans will eat 24,000 calories a day, sit on space-couches all day long, and look and feel great while doing it. And what a day that will be...

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Manliest email EVER!!

Howdy Janitor,

Thanks for the tip about word verification on the blog. I have taken your advice.


Yes that is Phil Olsen from The USA Beard Team blog, and yes he emailed that to me me. That just made my day.

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Thursday, August 03, 2006

fuzzy wuzzy was a bear

but fuzzy wuzzy had no hair!
PEW. steve nash. he went from that "nice dirtball" to just ugly. he is NOT a manly mustache.
for the mustache tweak of the day, click here. you may have to watch a few short commercials, but it's worth it.

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A Quick One While He's Away

Man, why didn't I go on this damn road trip?

I don't know what I was thinking. I could have afforded it easily enough, my mom would have been fine with it, and work could have dealt with a 10 day absence. What's more, the American West is one of my favorite places to travel through. Yellowstone and Glacier? Damn damn damn.

I realize that after 10 days with Sam, Tay, and Josh I may have regretted tagging along, and camping can get tiresome after four or five days, but this is the sort of thing for which one recieves a LIFE card in "The Game Of Life." You know, "Climbed Everest" or "Wrote a Book" or "Invented a New Ice Cream Flavor," that sort of thing.

That said: I need something to occupy myself for a while here. Matt Capelle, let's make that 5th treasure hunt. What's your email address? Call me to tell me, I guess. I'd hate to be responsible for your email becoming a favorite among identity thieves.

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Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Neither Short Nor Sweet

Riddles in the Dark was...interesting. I've decided to spare you my mush-mouthed ramble about the treasure hunt. It can be found on the t-hunt blog.

Just one thing about the hunt: When I had 25 people sitting in my yard and we prepared to restart the hunt, it started to rain. Josiah said "Max, do you have a Lord of the Rings line for this moment?" and I got to say "So it begins," just as Theodan said when it started to rain just before the Battle of Helm's Deep. It was special, trust me.

And now for something designed to make all those who plan on arriving at a large tan building in South Brainerd at 9 a.m. on September 5th hate my guts: I woke up at 10 this morning, shuffled downstairs, ate a big slice of cold barbecue chicken pizza for breakfast, and thought "Man, it sure is going to suck when SCHOOL STARTS, which is going to be REAL SOON."

Sorry. I had to let it out.

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Tuesday, August 01, 2006

The Wednesday Mustache Flashback Game

All right ladies and gentlemen, I'm gonna start a game to be played every Wednesday, affectionately named "The Wednesday Mustache Flashback Game." It involves mustache points, in fact 10 points for a correct guess and another 5 points for the bonus award. this is how it works - every wednesday, i will be thinking of a certain year - 1920-present. each player gets one guess per comment and unlimited comments (although you can't guess again until another player guesses - i hope that makes sense). all you have to do is guess the year i am thinking the hell will you do that, you ask? well, i will post a picture of a man (or woman i guess...)who has a mustache taken in or pertaining to the year i am thinking of(should be obvious what decade or range it is). should you guess correctly, you get 5 mustache points. the bonus award will be unique each week, so here it goes -

This is luigi, of course, from the mario bros. franchise....

Bonus Question - What movie from the same year featured the infamous jamaican bobsled team?

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"where can we go from here?"

i have nothing to do right now. quite literally...nothing.

so i've decided to make a fun game. i'm going to attempt to see

a.) how far i can "travel," and
b.) how many different countries i can tour by just clicking a link on our blog.
(basically, i click a link...then look at that blog and find another forth/so on) must be on blogspot! we'll see how far i can get in...20 clicks.

for your understanding...i will provide you with my step-by-step "clickage."

Start: [USA]
Click: ("Kid C")
Click: ("J. Wesley")
Click: ("Lyrically Cinematic-Sarah")
Click: ("Fresh Elaine")
Click: ("..chalupa..")
Click: ("Taco Hunt")
Click: ("~Oishii~")
Click: ("KUIDAORE") [Singapore]
Click: ("Nami Nami") [Scotland]
Click: ("Anne's Food") [Sweden]
Click: ("Domestic Cat") [Greece]
Click: ("a la Dilek") [Switzerland]
Click: ("DILEK'CE / turkish-auf Turkisch")
Click: ("Bir Tutam Baharat ()") [Turkey]
Click: ("Sutlu Kahve") [Denmark]
Click: ("Hanife'den tarifler") [Canada]
Click: ("Zeytindali")
Click: ("Rustic") [England]
Click: ("porcini chronicles") [Italy]

And there you have it. In 20 clicks...I "toured" 11 countries, traveled thousands of miles...and...ironically...ended up in (of all places) milano, italy!

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i suggest the mustaches throw a lube wrestling party....random? yes. frickin' righteous? hell yes.

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