Saturday, September 30, 2006

Would Anyone Buy This Shirt?


UHF=Best Movie EVER


Thursday, September 28, 2006


click HERE.

go to the bottom of the page near "external links."

i just need it to be official: please tell me that NO ONE from brainerd did that. otherwise, dang.


I Ain't Tha 1

The plan for homecoming...has changed. That's all I can say. Apparently the rumors about the first one spread too fast, and it wasn't really technically feasible. So there is...a new plan. It's pretty good. I hope it works. Keep your eyes peeled and your head up during halftime.

But when I think about this, all I can think of is how great it could have been if I'd started thinking about it earlier.

I see...dozens of hobby rockets firing off in sequence, releasing thier parachutes, and gently floating down onto the field...and exploding.

I see...potato cannons firing off a thunderous volley of confetti.

I see... "Strokin" blaring at maximum volume over the PA system via an external hack.

I see...disciplinary action against me. But this is all hypothetical, and they can't prosecute me for that yet.

Further proof of mustache destiny.

P.S.: I just made a round of about 15 phone calls to make sure people wear their mustache shirts for the picture tommorow. Cross your fingers.

P.P.S.: What Minneapolis (and Moorhead too, I guess) kids will be in town this tommorow/this weekend?


is it just me...

or is this how i envision our class photo tomorrow?


Wednesday, September 27, 2006


Sam and I had an idea for a movie today.

I call it Shark School!

It involves BHS being attacked by hundreds of flying sharks.

These sharks do not glide or flap or thrash about: they float like giant fleshy zeppelins, great white blimps, patrolling the skies as they once patrolled the oceans. Hovering about 6 feet off the ground, they enter through windows carelessly left open, and door left foolishly unlocked. Once they are noticed, it is too late. The are eveywhere, and the student body would be doomed, if not for the strength of one man: Christian Barnett. He will be our hero, leading his class to safety as BHS crumbles around him.

Troy Schreifels will be the gung-ho quick-to-die macho man. He will start shooting sharks, but will be quickly surrounded and eaten.

I do not know who Barnett's black sidekick will be. Perhaps L.L. Cool J.
He could get Schreifels' taser, taze a shark, and say "Momma said knock you OUT!"

My particular timing and declaritive phrasing in this post is thanks mostly to some time spent reading this comic.-->


-2.7 on the mustache scale

is how much fun it is to walk down to your car in the lower lot in the midst of a downpour.

after coming home and changing into some dry clothes i realized that, despite throwing the clothes in the laundry room, my bedroom was still full of the stench of "wet dog smell." pew.

yesterday i purchased wayyy too many paintballs and CO2 in order to nail those deer in our backyard. this should be fun. [i'm a big animal-rights enthusiast]

today in human geography mr. borash said something rather interesting. (sidenote: it has nothing to do with geography.)

borash: "yeaaahh, i won't be going to homecoming this year."

rowdy boy #1: "why not?"

borash: "in my last hour...the kids were talking about something that's 'going down' during the game. something BIG. HUGE. for my own safety i won't be going."

rowdy boy #2: "what is it???"

borash: "i don't think i should say."

rowdy girl #1: "tell us!"

borash: "all i'll tell you: it's going to be BIG."

does anyone know what this is in reference to? i'd like to think i'm (generally) informed about "big" things at BHS, but i haven't heard of any plans to ruin homecoming. someone enlighten me.

i'm thinking of having a makeshift caravan to the casino on saturday. if you're interested come join the fun. if you can't get a ride, ask me. if you have no money, don't bother.

one final note: i am OFFICIALLY getting an EGG for the BASKET. wish me luck.


Tuesday, September 26, 2006


for all of you nonreligious folk, sunday officially kicked off the beginning of ramadan.

i know we all celebrated in our own special way, but i just wanted you to have the following images of your lovely mr. kubas for the next month. (i aged 27 years, grew a beard, and moved out east)

true story: on monday i was walking to ap human geography. (borash teaches the class) he was standing in the hallway. before i entered, a girl walked up to me (i had never met her before) and she asks, "are you really muslim?"

borash: [to me] "alllright!!!!" then he gave me a high five.

kubas: "YEEAAAHH..." [there was a lot of sarcasm in that]

girl: "wow. ...what's your name?"

me: "kubas."

girl: "that's such a cool first name!"

then she left. huh. go figure.

"Allah's object also is to purge those that are true in Faith and to deprive of blessing Those that resist Faith."


Texans Love The Kinkster, And The Kinkster Loves Texans. You've Got A Lovefest Going On Here

Great story in the strib today: Apparently some guy in Texas has decided that he wants to follow Jesse Ventura's footsteps and be elected governor, despite his total lack of qualification. Who better to help him fundraise than Jesse himself?
The candidate is the crazy guy with the beard. No, not the one sitting down and laughing at the standing whacko. That's the former pro wrestler who led our state for 4 years. Our man is the fella in the black cowboy hat and flowing trenchcoat, stoagie clenched between his teeth, giving a ridiculous, fist-pumping gesture. His name? Kinky Friedman.

Oh, it gets better: he has possibly the greatest backstory of all time. From the Trib article:
"He first gained fame as front man for the Texas Jewboys band by penning such satirical songs as 'Get Your Biscuts in the Oven and Your Buns in Bed' and 'They Ain't Makin' Jews Like Jesus Anymore.'
By the 1980s, burned out from too many years of ingesting illegal drugs, he retired to his Texas ranch and began an even more successful career, writing comic mystery novels that feature a musician-turned-detective named Kinky Friedman."

That is unbelieveably sweet. Also, he seems to have based his campaign around a series of one-liners, with such mottos as "How hard can it be?" and "I can't screw things up worse than they already have," and statements like "I support gay marriage. They have every right to be just as miserable as the rest of us."

Jesse is quoted as saying "Minnesotans had the courage to elect an Independent...Do Texans have the guts to elect this guy?" To me, this suggests that Friedman will be pursuing a Stephen Colbert type campaign, challenging voters to do the manly thing and vote this maniac into office. C'mon, vote for the crazy guy; what's the matter, don't have the BALLS?

But this is Texas, so it could work. What's more, Ventura suggested that if Friedman doesn't win, Minnesota is manlier, and I just don't think Texas could deal with that.

Fingers crossed everybody!


Monday, September 25, 2006

LIVE: from coronation

king bo jedinak
queen kaila eberhart

(hope i spelled those names right)

i thought i'd be the first on the blogosphere to announce it.

you know, for all of you non-brainerd folk.

it looks like my ticket of brett kramer/A.O. didn't quite hold up. oh well...there's, no there's no next year.

mustache out.


Jay Ay Zed Zed

Signs I will make tonight to replace "GI Joe and Barbie Day", because Sam Walker is a lazy SOB:
-Killers and Hoars Day
-Gender Role Reinforcement Day
-Cross Dressing Day
-Unrealistic Body Image Day

and to cover up the entire "Spirit Day" portion:

In the same "Fucking up stupid shit" vein, apparently we're going to take a picture of the entire senior class this Friday for the yearbook? Is And is there any way we could screw it up? I'm not sure if it'd be better to make it so bad that they couldn't put it in the yearbook, or to make it subtle enough that it'll get in and we can all point at it and laugh. I mean, we could dump a bunch of glue and confetti over the whole group (we'll probably be seated on the bleachers), or even just the confetti, or we could put something on the benches: Glue? Paint? Nails?
At the very least, we should get as many mustache shirts in there as possible, even if we have to break into the Brainonian offices and photoshop in a few extra hundred shirts. Everyone wear 'em friday, okay?

And no one except Bundy is allowed to use "Spirit Day" as an excuse for not wearing it.

P.S.: So apparently someone started making and selling "License to Duct Tape" shirts for seniors, to replace our current crappy "License to Graduate" official senior shirts (007, get it?). Well in Gilby's class, Gilby read to us from an email, informing us that we will not be allowed to wear the shirts on school grounds, and anyone wearing one will be asked to remove it or turn it inside out.

Lemme get this straight: I see shirts that objectify women and glorify drug use on a daily basis, but when someone verbally challenges the new "anti-hazing" policy, the fucking hammer comes down.

Jesus Christ.


Dear Kurt,

Congratulations on your acceptance to Michigan Technological University. Your acceptance represents your commitment to academic success and we are pleased you have chosen to continue your studies at Michigan Tech.

To secure your enrollment at Michigan Tech, a $100 enrollment deposit is required. You may submit your deposit at any time, but no later than May 1, 2007. Payment is accepted by check or money order made payable to Michigan Technological University and mailed the following address:

Be sure to include your name on the check so your deposit may be processed correctly when it arrives on campus.We also invite you to visit campus.

Our Open House is Saturday, October 7. Details are at Campus tours are also offered on weekdays and select Saturdays throughout the year. Learn more at

Watch for your Action Packet which will be arriving in the mail soon. In this packet you will find additional details important to becoming a Michigan Tech student.

If you have questions, or need additional information, please let us know. We look forward to hearing from you soon.


Allison Carter Director of Admissions

I'm really not sure if I want to go to Michigan Tech, but whatever.


Sunday, September 24, 2006

Romantic Readiness Isn't Always Enough

Ben by Elsie Russell
He took out a pile of shirts and began throwing them, one by one before us, shirts of sheer linen and thick silk and fine flannel which lost their folds as they fell and covered the table in many-colored disarray. While we admired he brought more and the soft rich heap mounted higher--shirts with stripes and scrolls and plaids in coral and apple-green and lavender and faint orange with monograms of Indian blue. Suddenly with a strained sound, Daisy bent her head into the shirts and began to cry stormily.

"They're such beautiful shirts," she sobbed, her voice muffled in the thick folds. "It makes me sad because I've never seen such--such beautiful shirts before."

--F. Scott Fitzgerald
Sometimes you need a shirt, too.


Saturday, September 23, 2006

"let's frolic through the fields and hold hands and smell flowers and then let's dance in circles."

today i went through pine river. (on my way to walker.) ever since the folky farm experience, i just love it there.

i saw a new sign: (at least it was new to me...i had never noticed it before on the side of the road)

it was on the right side of the highway on the northern outskirts of PR. it read:


what a pun! (if you need further explanation, just ask.)

so...for those of you who don't know me, my name is andrew kubas. i'm a cancer if that means anything to anyone other than mrs. niemi. i am a senior at brainerd high school...i enjoy nice long walks on the beach, bread, mustaches, barrows, and blue raspberry jolly ranchers. i have no idea what i want to do with my life, nor what school i would like to attend next fall.

oh, wait, that's something important! i know other various blogs have discussed where to go/what to do.

i think i'm going to need some expert input from the mustache nation. i don't care if you're older or younger than myself...whether you're a friend, acquaintance, or italian...your input is greatly appreciated. i have a few ideas about WHERE to go--and i think i will be creating a lovely new poll for that one. (the college receiving the most votes will be where i attend school next fall! am i a genius or what?)

last thursday after school i took about 10 minutes to clean out our "band folder area." i couldn't help but notice...sitting in slot # 30...was a crumpled up old folder. the poor thing looked lonely and was as though it begged to be used. being that the kubas species is rather inquisitive...i had to pick it up to see why it was in our section. i flattened out the folder...returned it to normal size...and in a distinct handwriting it read, "Dr. Kubas and Jake Folkeringa." oh man, good times.

P.S. The basket is going to make a 2006-2007 debut Monday. Get ready!


One kilo of cocaine weighs exactly as much as this platinum-iridium cylinder.


Science: Cool?

I find this sort of thing very interesting.

The kilogram or kilogramme, (symbol: kg) is the SI base unit of mass. It is defined as being equal to the mass of the international prototype of the kilogram.

It is the only SI base unit that employs a prefix [1], and the only SI unit that is still defined in relation to an artifact rather than to a fundamental physical property.

A kilogram is approximately equivalent to 2.205 avoirdupois pounds in the Imperial system and the customary system of weights and measures used in the United States.


The kilogram was originally defined as the mass of one litre of pure water at standard atmospheric pressure and at the temperature at which water has its maximum density (3.98 degrees Celsius). This definition was hard to realize accurately, partially because the density of water depends slightly on the pressure, and pressure units include mass as a factor, introducing a circular dependency in the definition.

To avoid these problems, the kilogram was redefined as precisely the mass of a particular standard mass created to approximate the original definition. Since 1889, the SI system defines the unit to be equal to the mass of the international prototype of the kilogram, which is made from an alloy of platinum and iridium of 39 mm height and diameter, and is kept at the Bureau International des Poids et Mesures (International Bureau of Weights and Measures). Official copies of the prototype kilogram are made available as national prototypes, which are compared to the Paris prototype ("Le Grand Kilo") roughly every 10 years. The international prototype kilogram was made in the 1880s.

By definition, the error in the repeatability of the current definition is exactly zero; however, in the usual sense of the word, it can be regarded as of the order of 2 micrograms. This is found by comparing the official standard with its official copies, which are made of roughly the same materials and kept under the same conditions. There is no reason to believe that the official standard is any more or less stable than its official copies, thus giving a way to estimate its stability. This procedure is performed roughly once every forty years.

The international prototype of the kilogram seems to have lost about 50 micrograms in the last 100 years, and the reason for the loss is still unknown (reported in Der Spiegel, 2003 #26). The observed variation in the prototype has intensified the search for a new definition of the kilogram. It is accurate to state that any object in the universe (other than the reference metal in France) that had a mass of 1 kilogram 100 years ago, and has not changed since then, now has a mass of 1.000 000 050 kg. This perspective is paradoxical and defeats the purpose of a standard unit of mass, since the standard should not change arbitrarily over time. The philosopher Saul Kripke elaborated on the philosophical implications of this kind of problem, referring, however, to the then-current definition of the metre in terms of an artifact, a choice which was later dropped.

Thanks, Wikipedia! Oh, and Sam Walker already knew most of this when I asked him about it.


Smart Patrol

Max's food intake for today:

9:30 a.m.: Two slices of toast w/ butter and jelly.
Health factor: +2 (the bread was whole wheat, and both it and the jelly were homemade [mmmmm])

9:47 a.m.: Half handful of left-over nachos
HF: -15. Afterwards, I started feeling slightly ill. Not like "bad nachos" ill, just sick.

2:00 p.m.: 2 fresh chocolate chip cookies, with an 8 oz. glass of 1% milk
HF: -12

2:10 p.m.: 2 more
HF: -16

2:11 p.m.: 1 more
HF: -23

4:00 p.m.: 2 more
HF: -28. Departed for work slightly afterwards

5:25 p.m.: Roll with butter
HF: -12

8:00 p.m.: Roll with disgustingly rich blue cheese
HF: -34

Right now: Homemade gingerbread (my momma wanted to bake today) w/ an 8 oz. glass of 1% milk.
HF: -13

Total Health Factor: -1000. I should be dead right now.

No, wait, I took a vitamin C AND ate a children's chewable vitamin.
Recalcultaed Health Factor: -997. Aww yeah, this body is a temple.

Hell, this body is a fucking skyscraper.


Friday, September 22, 2006

Shiver Me Timbers

This here? This is a picture of a dead man.


Because he just made a copy of a bootleg version of this film.

And this man does not appreciate that.

And when this man does not appreciate your actions, know what he does?

He leaves you to the snakes.

Seriously though, the version I have isn't so bad. A little grainy and dark, and there are some audible cheers, but you'll be cheering during those parts anyways so who cares? My cousin got it in a Chinatown (I dunno where) and let me copy it. I will make 4 (four) more copies (Bring Your Own Case) for whomever wants one. Please state your case for owning one in the comments.


tastes like

"and as always...your choice of milk."

you: "but kubas! what could have possibly been the lunch today?"

kubas: " was taco salad day!"

the meat in my taco tasted EXACTLY like salt. it was as though i took a spoonful of salt and downed it.

SPEAKING of which, i have a story about salt.

when i was roughly 4 years old, i was eating popcorn...unsalted. so i decided to grab the salt shaker and spread some "salty-love" all across the popcorn. weeellllll, the salt shaker was all clumped up, and nothing was coming out.

i unscrewed the top part of the salt shaker...and decided to see how much salt i could put in my mouth. i emptied the ENTIRE salt shaker into "mi boca"[spanish]...and immediately threw up all over. i was such a smart kid.

i'm proud to report that of the entire mustache nation (numbering 64) 3 wore shirts to school today. 2 were visible. yay.

in other news...max and i received two verbal committments for roomies on tour. we think (of the brainerd high school symphonic band members) we made excellent choices.

ap human geography: average test score: 59.5%. wooooot! what a smart class!

i am (quite literally) dedicating every saturday evening to gambling. so, for our 18-year-old readers, i think i am going to declare it "mustache-addiction-day" and it will occur EVERY week. if you would like to join in, you don't have to go gambling with me. on saturday evenings if you promise to partake in one of the following addictions...such as:
  1. go to the casino
  2. buy scratch games
  3. smoke
  4. vote
  5. watch porn
  6. join the army
  7. serve alcohol
  8. visit barrows
  9. grow a mustache

then you're a staunch supporter!!'re part of the family.


Mustache Match Game '76

I realized that we haven't been giving out many bonus points lately.

So I've decided to honor the late "Match Game" with a Mustache version. (It's like the bonus round after filling in the blanks with the celebs)

One guess per user. First person to correctly get a point value wins the points.

Blue_____ 20 pts.
Blue_____ 10 pts.
Blue_____ 5 pts.

Good luck!


Thursday, September 21, 2006

Writ, Wrote, Gewritten

So Max, Max has got problems. Two in particular have been on my mind the past couple of days. And what is a blog if not a depository for nagging thoughts such as these? One problem is not exactly dinner table conversation, so I'm posting it over on Superblog. The other, slightly more palatable quandry is as follows:

My recent experience with college application essays has got me questioning this whole writing thing. I like to write, and sometimes I can write pretty good stuff. But when I try to translate my style to a more academic environment, it's just not as good. I mean, I can pump out these-support-conclusion essays all day long, but that's no fun. I have the best time, and make the best stuff, when I write in my normal style, free-associating, sarcastic, hyperbolic, sort of self-aggrandizing and depricating at the same time. Unfortunately, run-on sentences and free-form structure don't translate that well to "official" texts. I could take the JM route and just write how I feel, but I'm really not comfortable taking the chance that my reader will not be a "cool" guy/gal.

I guess the solution to this problem is actually pretty clear, and I'm just denying it because it means work: I have to try to adjust my style for academic papers, keeping the good original voice but dropping some of the structural liberties. sucks.

P.S.: I've noticed that ever since I started hanging out with the WTITYB crowd (see, there's another good use for blogs: lumping together groups of people), my vocabulary has subtly shifted. For example:
Good things: Sweet, or more often, Pretty sweet.
Bad things/usually people: Tools/sucks (although I used this before)
Opener/precedes every statement: Oh man,.../Man...
Traveling through the jungle: Ter-munglin, as in "Ter-munglin' through the jungle."


Wednesday, September 20, 2006

no more looking inside

if a deer is in your yard,

eating your flowers,

invites 4 of his friends,

eats everything in your kitchen,

and then starts breeding,

is it ok to shoot it with a paintball gun?

question two:

who wants to go gambling saturday?

question three:

who wants to go on a naughty/scary/weird journey with me. actually, i think tom day already won this one.

mandate #1:

come to the class cabinet meeting tomorrow. 7:45. stenglein's room (i hope i spelled that correctly)

mandate #2:

wear your mustache shirt friday.


If I Had A Penny For My Thoughts I'd Be A Millionaire

Good item in today's Star Trib. Apparently the U of M has developed a new kind of apple, called Zestar (a combination of zesty and star, or if you say "Ze star!" in a mock French accent), and the hope is that it will bring in tons of dough in royalties. Now the commercial creation of new kinds of fruit seems a little strange to me, but I'm really weirded out by the idea of a university making a bunch of money off of a new type of fruit developed there. I guess I've just generalized reasearch universities as being sort of "for the good of all mankind," but hey, particle accelerators don't pay for themselves.

Far more notable to me than the underlying morality of collecting royalties on crops were two paragraphs in the story. This "remember when?" gem designed to bring readers back to 1972, the year develpoment on the Zestar began:

It was 1972, the year of "Pong" and Nixon's trip to China, J. Edgar Hoover's funeral and the year Mark Spitz won seven Olympic gold medals.


But even better is this glorious quote from a proud Minnesota biologist, Cecil Stushnoff:

"Horace Greeley used to write articles to encourage people to go west, but he wrote 'Go west, but don't go to Minnesota, because you can't grow apples there.'" Stushnhoff said. "There were a lot of proud Scandinavian folks who said, 'We'll see about that."

I did not know Horace Greeley wrote that. Fuckin' east coast mainstream media sell-out underestimating the gumption and stick-it-to-ive-ness of real Middle-Americans.

I greatly admire this man. And this man. Click them links, bitch!

P.S.: Great juxtaposition in the Wikipedia article for Nouveau riche:

Fictional examples of nouveau riche include Jay Gatsby from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel The Great Gatsby and Rodney Dangerfield’s character in Caddyshack


Tuesday, September 19, 2006

National Merit Public Forum

So my college application essays were all a little too personal to post on the blog, but I think my NM essay would benefit from some public feedback. First draft slammed out tonight, keep that in mind. I'm looking to beef up that intro of mine, as right now it is one short sentence. Any good creativity quotes?
Prompt: "In your own words, describe your personal characteristics, accomplishemnts, primary interests, plans, and goals. What sets you apart?" About 500 words, it's 484 right now.

My creativity is my most important, most unique character trait.
My creativity has contributed to what I consider my most important accomplishments. I have succeeded academically and tested well, but undertakings from which I derive the most satisfaction have all been creative ventures. I take great pride in my first place essay in the school district writing contest. While it was an academic paper, I feel that I wrote it in my own unique voice. I worked to take common observations from a piece of literature and make something entirely my own, something special, with new connections expressed in new ways. I try to do similar things with my blog, but with observations drawn from my life instead of literature. A blog, short for web log, is a personal website which the user can update regularly. I treat my blog as a sort of public diary where, at the end of each day, I can write about my thoughts and ideas. My blog is very popular among my friends and I work to keep it that way, doing my best to post something new and interesting every day. My creative activities are not limited to literary pursuits; I also enjoy making short films and organizing community treasure hunts. The treasure hunts were a new phenomenon this year. I worked with some friends to create a series of riddles that led teams through town. We had to find just the right combination of clever clues and unique locations, and I feel we succeeded in interesting and exciting the participants. I was very pleased with this positive reaction to something I made.
This creative drive has also shaped my interests and aspirations. I am not certain which field I wish to study in, much less which career path I will take, but I do know that I want to be able to create for a living. I imagine my career will involve writing, either as an academic, an essayist, or a journalist. Other artistic pursuits also interest me, in particular the creation of public and performance art designed to reach a wide audience. I’ve always enjoyed seeing how an insightful, often ironic presentation of everyday objects or actions can give a new perspective on our culture and, in some small way, change how people see the world.
My plans and goals for the future are still uncertain, but I am confident my imaginative side will influence them. I hope to learn more about myself, the sources of my inspiration, and the direction they are pointing me in. I hope to learn more about my culture and heritage and their influence on my worldview. I plan to take all the parts of my world that interest me the most and synthesize them into something unique. Ultimately, I hope to create something entirely new, a story or a theory or an idea that I can call my own.


Ladies Flock Like Bees To The Hive

I have a suspicion that no one really knows what we're supposed to put on the left-hand side of the journal in Lang. I don't, you don't, and Mrs. Niemi sure as hell doesn't. I asked her what she wanted there, and she just read back the same cryptic instructions off the sheet we already had. Translation: read my mind and do it right. Oh well, test tommorow.

So JM and I decided to start a super blog. It's called Superblog. Don't worry, I'll still post my daily musings here, but some hopefully more structured pieces and regular features will be available over at the superblog. Plus Josh actually blogs some stuff and that can be interesting. Sam Walker is technically a contributor, but he never contributes, so no problem. And Pammy has some startling statistics for you?

Holy Christ, Catherine Lepel is irritating. I assumed everyone was being a little facetious (lang vocab word, if only niemi could see me now) when they talked about her, but now I see the light, and it is glaring and flashing and right in my eyes. She sits right behind me in Lang and is roughly the irrative equivalent of a tiny, tap-dancing leprachaun playing soccer against my left eardrum. One day I walked into class softly whistling "The Stars and Stripes Forever," and Lepel proceeded to loudly hum the flute part for the remainder of class, as if she were proving to me that she recognized the song we had both been playing TEN MINUTES earlier. Two thumbs up, Lepel.

On the plus side, Sam and I acted with appropriate force against the stupidest theme dress-up day I've seen in a while: GI Joe and Barbie Day, scheduled for next thursday. I made a new sign and Sam helped me put it up. See if you can spot the difference:

Someone removed it rather quickly (it was only secured with scotch tape), but we plan to attach a similar sign tommorow, this time with glue or something so that removal means serious structural damage to the poster itself.

Fuck the police.


"is mr. cube-azz available?"

oh man how cool is spanish. today:

sra. qualley: "andres, tell us one of your sentences."

kubas: "cesar es mas alto que yo." (cameron is taller than me)

qualley: "y tambien el es mas guapo que tu. y el es mas fuerte que tu." (and also, he is better looking than you. and stronger than you.)

qualley: "josue, can you tell us one of your sentences?"

josue: (bundy): "el gato es mas inteligente que andres." (the cat is smarter than kubas)

oh man that was classic.


remember how i said neoearth was dying? apparently the city of brainerd went from 648 hits to 13. (JUST brainerd) i payed for that beast, i DEMAND that it work properly.


you are cordially invited to a pick-up game at the Y tomorrow. 4:30. be there.




please don't participate in no shave november. it's a plot to destroy the mustaches.


FRIDAY is going to be "flashback friday." please wear your mustache shirt. it doesn't matter if you're thousands of miles away or attending BHS, we're asking you to display your pride. ALSO, we should be able to get a quality pic of the homecoming week banner. we aim to please...and we aim high.



Monday, September 18, 2006

Maxwell Edison, Majoring In Medicine

I know we've posed this point for debate before, but I feel the recent spate of macho President videos warrents a reopening of discussion.

Who is the manliest American President of all time? Is it:

...A) Andrew "You'll-Take-The-Swampland-And-Like-It" Jackson, probably our greatest native killing (or at least repressing) President?

...B) Theodore Roosevelt, the President who probably personally killed the most men?

...C) George Washington, who threw a knife into heaven?

...or D), None of the above?

If D, who? Feel free to use facial hair as justification.

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If Only Teddy Was Still Alive

Then he could run for the Bread Party

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guess what i got in the mail.

it involves grand casino mille lacs.


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for pelkey (if he cares)

a conversation.

kubas: "what exactly is my role this year?"

borash: "we envision you as more of a 'super senior'."

kubas: "uh huh..."

borash: "you know, where you help the novi with their cases. give them pointers. judge a few brainerd practice rounds."

kubas: "uh huh."

borash: "you'll be the inspirational 'kubas!' "

kubas: "hmm."

borash: "blame bag boy. it's all his fault."

wow this year sucks. every aspect of school/band/extracurriculars. pew.

mr. negativity? perhaps. dead sexy? not necessarily. last name? kubas.

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"Just give it to me raw" [Now what you asking for]

# of unique visits for the last 5 days:


raw hits:


i think we broke neoearth. it's not really working anymore.

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Sunday, September 17, 2006

A Foolish Consistency Is The Hobgoblin Of Little Minds

My mom's best friend's mom's sister's husband, George, works at Princeton, so my mom and I are going to go visit them over MEA. Apparently, that weekend is homecoming, and George has an extra ticket to the football game against Harvard and invited me to go with him. So that's pretty hilarious.

But here's the thing: while I'm at the game, my mom and her best friend's mom's sister are going to the Princeton art museum. Is it bad that I think I'd rather go to see the art collection than the football game? Is it worse that I'm going to the football game anyways?

P.S.: Wanninger: I'm probably going to use a quote from Self-Reliance to start my NM essay. Can you (or one of your students) guess which one? 5 bonus points (if Kubas chooses to add them) to the winner! Hint: it's not this post's title.

P.P.S.: I'm also considering using a Gatsby quote instead. If someone guesses that one, hell, take 15 points.

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The Janitor's Closet

  • I'm currently working on a really stupid project for Spanish III. I can't figure out how to use five reflexive verbs while describing what there is to do in Brainerd, MN.
  • On Saturday I was watching a children's show on the Christian Channel called the Donut Repair Club and the host was the biggest pedophile ever. He had a molester mustache and rainbow colored clothes on, but his dialogue was the worst. While comforting a young boy he told him, "That's why we're called the donut repair club" then jammed a piece of donut into another donut's center.
  • I've got another two scenes done on the movie since Friday and put the music in the scenes that were missing it.
  • My fantasy footbal team sucks, it's looking like an o-2 start
  • The Twins, Vikings and Timberwolves will all make the playoffs this year.

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i believe (i'm not sure when) but during the upcoming week we will be voting on


a.) can someone verify a date/time?
b.) can the ENTIRE MUSTACHE NATION promise to get out and vote?
c.) can we all vote for max to sing "hooked on a feeeeeeeelin"?

from one mustache to another,

many thanks.

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3 x 10^8 m/s

have i ever mentioned that i like super jackpot party?

the wallet was a lovely $110 thicker last night. let's celebrate!

things to be excited for:

  1. the movie
  2. home football game friday
  3. ramadanadingdong is in one week (this is big for me)
  4. when it's finally cold enough to kill some hornets nests
  5. sleeping on my chillow. (the chilly side of the pillow)

things not to be excited for:

  1. the city of rogers
  2. october 6th poop
  3. people who put too much pressure on kurt (seriously "kurtis" [my new name for you] take all the time you need)
  4. no shave november
  5. the number 5

hmm i'm thinking (within the week) i'll have a potentially life-changing poll. i would like full participation...because you all know i'll actually do it.

for some reason channel 62 was viewable on basic cable today. the emeril side of kubas:

BAM! mustache out!

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More Real Than Real

So I went down to the cities this weekend for a suprise party for Sam Walker.

A message from Ali Jones and Heather Mastel-Lipson:
If anyone needs a ride down to the cities on a Saturday, they have a ride back at a later time, they can fit their luggage into a small blue station wagon along with a violin and cello, and they're willing to punch themselves awake at 5 a.m., the Orchestra Bus can provide. It certainly saved me a lot of money and trouble. Thank them for me if you see them, okay?

Highlight of the trip: Sitting in lawn chairs on the mall in front of Northup Auditorium, watching lightning flash all around it and debating the importance of shadows in architecture. Also, breakfast at Al's Breakfast two days in a row. Thank you Amelia!

Suprise party report: So the suprise part was hurt by A:The fact that I neglected to tell my cousin Amelia that my apperance in the cities was to a be a surprise for Sam Walker, and B: the star-crossed meeting of Amelia and Sam and Josh on the street in Dinkytown, in which she said "Oh, so I suppose you'll be hanging out with Max when he comes down tommorow?" But Sam was still moderately suprised by the party, and he got some pretty good gifts.

Overall, a success.

Aaaaaannd it looks like the movie is going to take a little bit longer to get done than suspected. Kurt.....c'mon.

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Saturday, September 16, 2006


hey, tanner motors

SCREW YOU. oh man i so didn't swear there.

so while the rest of the world is celebrating sam walker's existence,

i'm going to go gamble.


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Thursday, September 14, 2006

Neunundneunzig Problems

My dad has four brothers, which gives me four uncles from Wisconsin. So when I got a call tonight and I heard "This is your dad's brother," I had to think quick. Was it Kim, Rick, Pat, or Skip? I hesitated, and he took mercy on me and said "This is Skipper. Is your dad around?" I told him no and asked if he had a message, and Skip says "Well, just tell him is older brother by a year and a half called and told him to eat shit and die."

Oh man, Skip is sweet. I laughed a lot at that line, but my momma didn't get it. So is it a guy thing? Or just a Kuehn guy thing?

My dad has stories about Skip. Back in Milwaukee (and later in San Fran), when people would stop and ask Skip for directions, he would act all helpful, sometimes even draw them a map, and give them completely wrong directions.

"Okay, so you're gonna go down two blocks, then turn right BEFORE the bridge. You'll see a big yellow sign, turn left there, go down about 8 blocks, two quick rights, and you're right there."

Strikes me as a real Sam Walker thing to do. Except it would require talking to peolpe, so probably a no go there. Sam would just doctor road maps at rest stops. And hack mapquest so it would direct you into narrow alleys and dead ends and small lakes. And poison the town's water supply.

P.S.: I'm officially a National Merit Semifinalist. Whooo. The important thing here is that it means that this picture will be appearing in the Brainerd Daily Dispatch:Man, I 'd forgotten how much I owned the PSAT. I mean, I don't usually like to brag about test scores, but 230? Outta 240? Linda says I set the school record, which means I pretty much deserve my name engraved somewhere. Until some enterprising young 'un comes up with a 232 of course. Then it'll be him with the goddamned target on his back.

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it's the italians at their finest!

i know nothing about soccer, but even i know this is amazing!

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Wednesday, September 13, 2006


Great anagram website here. I use it for my vocab mneumonics. But today I typed in my name and got:

Aw yeah.

Other notables:

Have fun!

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...guardians of the blue and white...

marching band practice:

two thumbs wayyy down. did anyone else think that melby's "pep talk" was...a...lie?

someone needs to help me with question #1 for lang.

geography today:

Mr. borash: "hahah...AAAHHAHA...haha! ...hah!"

kubas: "what?"

Mr. borash: "muslim magic. that's funny."

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Everything's Got 'Em

So today in Econ we were doing some review questions or whatever and we had to define "economic facts." I had something like "hard data gathered through study," but some kids by me weren't sure what to answer and let the rest of the room know it. Matt Blair turned to them and said "facts are facts." And one of the kids says "well yeah, but what did you define them as?" Blair: "Facts are facts."
Me: "That's a terrible definition. Don't use it, kids. Facts are hard data gathered through study and experiment."

Blair definition was really fantastically bad. It wasn't even up to the level of being a circular definition (A=B, B=A); it was a punctual definition (A=A).
I exceeded my quota of good deeds for today. One, I passed on the copy of Lolita mattson gave me to the new India-by-way-of-California transfer, and two, I picked up a stray media center card. Some lucky junior (Karissa Janacek?) is totally going to save a dollar. Although the media center ladies probably won't give it to her, just charge her the dollar for their own nefarious purposes.

Kubas, re. your conviction that I will be on the homecoming court: C'mon bud. I'm not a football player. Hell, I'm not even a band officer; I couldn't even win a BAND popularity contest.

Hey, let's see if I can ysi. Fingers crossed.

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Banned Commercial

It's a wonder this was deemed unworthy of air time.

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Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Since No One Visits IHOB

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god i hate school.

it's not like the work is's just that the teachers give out SO MUCH CRAP. the whole year it's been get home at 5, do homework until 8, eat supper, do more homework, go to bed. i don't like this.

good thing: bobby k is back at BHS. he's so much fun to watch.
good thing #2: marching band tomorrow!
good thing #3: gas=$2.32

bad thing: apparently no one wants the BHS symphonic band to perform at carnegie hall. ooohhh, (sorry max i HAVE to bring it up again) my heart has crumbled. and shrunk. and died. they contacted mr. melby (we didn't call them!!!!) and asked if we would be willing to perform at carnegie.

seriously, ever since i heard this news today i've just been in a bad mood. someone brighten up my life.

and realize that (with sam leaving) you're now contributing 91% of the posts versus 90%...correct? tom day/bundy haven't exactly been the "yeast to our bread," and kurt and i are just the flour. you=all the doughy goodness. and that's a lot. so please don't yell at us.

i'm going to eat.

mustache out!

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Reasons why Barnett is a real man:
-He's clearly very conservitive.
-He says "And things of that nature" at an Arnold-Schwarzeneggar-impersonater rate.
-His college roomate was Robert Smith.

No, not this Robert Smith...
THIS Robert Smith...
Yes, Viking fans, THAT Robert Smith. Fuckin' crazy, right? How much would Tay have lost his shit if one of his teachers had roomed with Robert Smith?

Max's top sung songs by class:
German: Hast Du Eine Mutter
Physics: Close To You
Calc: I Fought The Law
Band: Brainerd School Song
Lang: Kilo
Econ: 16 Tons

Today's featured article on Wikipedia: Tyrannosaurus rex. Coolest animal ever? Discuss.

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Monday, September 11, 2006

"They light up the crowd, and don't talk too loud..."

what i don't like:

mr. pelkey assigning 14 exercises. (it's a lot)
basic spanish review
3 APs in the morning
31 people in debate

things that are cool:

andrew kubas on baritone
mr. borash

why my grandpa is amazing:

  1. he sent me an e-mail
  2. he's old. and he knows how to use e-mail
  3. he says, "Say Hello to all your family and keep checking out the chicks at school. Brightens up the day."

notice the use of something pure (family) added to something dirty (teenage behavior) all in one awkward thought. god, he must have been such a pimp back in the day.

funny spanish today...

(sra. qualley teaching us how to use the 'personal a' in espanol): "you wouldn't say in english, 'i need an andrew.'"

me: "sure you would." [class laughter] "it happens to me all the time."

ohh...wayyy too arrogant and inappropriate.

GOTV tomorrow: MN primary. vote bread party!

mustache out.

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Chronicle Of A Dearth Foretold

My fellow mustaches, I will try to be understanding concerning your lack of posts.

School has begun, and as we all know, school sucks. All that working for your future takes up valuable time that could be used for pointless blogging. Sam Walker lashed out again against the blogging world that he feels has deserted and shunned him, and that can be a bummer. But I can't carry this blog all by myself! Here, I'll get you started. Here's a link to a fun video. It was already posted on some blog, ISLOB or something, but no one reads that tripe so I figured I'd better link it here. (Kubas or kurt, feel free to make this a nice in-blog window, however one does that.)

P.S.: So I guess Sam Walker was really sick today and went home from like 2nd to 5th hour. The funny thing is, I totally couldn't tell he was sick at all, before or after. He just disappeared for 3 hours, then reappeared looking the same as ever. The question here is, is this a commentary on a) My sub-par observational skills
b) Sam's ghoulish everyday appearance
c) Sam's stoic unwillingness to display any discomfort
d) Sam's sneaky desire to skip physics and calc

P.P.S.: Look's like we're in for another stellar season of CSI: Miami, if the teaser trailer is any proof. Long story short, H needs to go to Brazil to kill his wife's killer. Here's my brief synopsis.
(Shot of Horatio putting on sunglasses)
H:Looks like we're going to Brazil.
(Swooping shot of Miami through an orange filter)
(Horatio puts his arms akimbo and turns to look at the camera, quick cut to a girl in a bikini climbing out of a pool)
(Shot of Rio di Janero, belly to knee shot of woman in bikini walking w/ orange filter)
Bad guy: You know how this is gonna end?
H: I know exactly how it's going to end.

Oh man. The sexiest place on earth. The sexiest man on earth. This could get messy.

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Sunday, September 10, 2006

Life Goes On

Know what's kind of neat? Physics.

Yes, I’ve had one of my trademark changes of heart (that was a Mr. Burns line, for the unwashed who haven’t memorized the Burns-buys-the-Simpsons’-greyhound-puppies-to-make-a-tuxedo-out-of-them episode). I was finishing my physics homework (several problems concerning velocity, acceleration, electricity, fog, jump rope, Elvis Costello, and love [love really is the strongest force known to man. Seriously, the equation for the position an object in love is like initial velocity X time + acceleration X time squared + love X time to the eighth power. Love just blows everything else away. Unless if time<1, because then love is basically meaningless.]) when I realized how interesting the problems were. I’d moved beyond the this-is-really-hard block and entered the this-is-kind-of-neat zone. These 3 or 4 little equations could tell me all sorts of things if I plugged in the right numbers in the right order. I actually did an extra problem just for fun.

This was one of those times when the elegance and clear-cut minimalism of pure science appealed to me. If the right numbers go in, the right numbers come out, and everything fits together, clean and simple. No ambiguity about meaning or theme, no individual opinions about symbolism or narrator reliability, no “most correct” answers. Normally I’m all about the literate discussion and the debating points and the multiple layers, and, you know, art in general. But sometimes I just want to pick my equations, plug in my numbers, write down my answer, and have it marked right or wrong. I guess that’s just the simple-minded conservative in me.

Current high score:1754. Beat that, bitches.

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Saturday, September 09, 2006

Cures From The Orient or The Lump Our Lump Is A Jealous Lump

I'm here to tell you about the latest innovation in weight loss technology. It’s called the Lump diet, and it has drained me of feelings of hunger, thirst, and general well-being. Here’s how it works:

First, go to the Diamond House Chinese restaurant in Brainerd. Buy some sesame chicken, bring it home, and eat a whole bunch of it. It may seem delicious and fatty while you eat it, but don’t’ worry; the healing will begin soon.

After you finish gorging yourself, you should start to feel slightly bloated and nauseous. This is the result of the patented conglomeration process in which the individual chunks of chicken combine together into a single, indivisible, indigestible lump in the pit of your stomach. Here’s an easy test to see if you’ve performed the procedure right: does your stomach feel as if it contains a fist-sized lump of clay covered in stinging nettles? 10 pounds of nails in a burlap sack? 3 license plates suspended in ziplock bag full of maple syrup? If so, you’re on the road to thinness!

This lump is the key to your weight loss. It will fill you up 24 hours a day. If you attempt to eat, smell, or think about any food, the lump will sense your impure thoughts and be gripped by homicidal jealousy. Any other foods introduced into your system will be hunted down and destroyed. The lump may extend all the way up to the back of your throat in pursuit of stray food particles.

So the next time you feel overweight and lonely, remember the Lump diet: Your Key To The Road To Un-Fatness!

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Friday, September 08, 2006

Maybe Even 10 or 11

Sam, add Max back as a contributor again, or give me my admin priviledges back so I can do it. Max is the playmaker on this blog and everyone knows that. You haven't posted anything in months, and when you did it wasn't exactly spectacular.

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Thursday, September 07, 2006

"I hear you called again...and know not what to say..."

here's my shortened up version of the morning update:

"if your parking pass is lost or stolen, you can get another one from the office, but it will cost $20."

so, amy is giving $10 to bundy...and i am also giving $10 to bundy...and we are going to steal his parking pass. yeah, i'm sticking it to the MAN. and this time, the MAN is BHS.

confession time: when i first bought ALPHA ["the betta fish"] i was unsure how much to feed him. each moring...and each night...i would place 10 protein pellets in his "bowl." i think i have determined that this is TOO much food. see, his water is, well, not clear because it's really poopy. and his belly is HUGE. now you know.

btw, (pertaining to lang students) i wrote about cloning/stem cell research. what did anyone/everyone else write about?

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Dispatch From The Front Lines

Day Two in the field: Morale improves somewhat. Learning of the Hun's language continues to be a bit of a bitch.

I'm considering dropping AP physics for regular physics or AP psych. This class seems like tons of work and stress that I don't want or need. I don't plan to pursue physics as a career and it fails to excite me. Mr. Gilbertson doesn't strike me as the kind of teacher I need to keep me interested in science (involved, motivated, approachable, eager to help). But hell, I've only known him for two days. Dissuade me.

I hate to say it, but calc is my favorite class right now. I can handle Blong's teaching style, no homework, and class tends to be a barrel of laughs.

I have a feeling I'm going to really enjoy Lang. I enjoy in-class essays and AP multiple choice tends to be my thing. Niemi is no Hewitt, but I'll give her a chance.

Man, thank goodness for this blog. It's nice so nice to have a place to unload all of my thoughts for the day so I can move on. It's like having a therapist, I guess, but way cheaper and more fun. Only way this blog could be more fun: if Sam Walker would get the fuck out. Sam, go join WTITYB or start your own watch based blog or just disappear altogether. I think the relationship between the mustache blog and yourself has reached the end of it's productive era.

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Wednesday, September 06, 2006

"But nothing stays the same...I stand in my own way..."

outline of day one:

stats: easy. and yummy.
lang: confusing. which notes go on the left? and the right?
spanish: i don't particularly like the word "maestra," but i suppose it will do.
lunch: more....people....please
band: (sigh)
physics: gilby=frickin' amazing
gov: soon to be dropped

highlight of day one:

(max pretty much ruined this story)

mid-august i was talking with max. it was quite exciting.

Max: "kubas! we just got a new guy from vegas for a baritone. his name is alex."

me for the last few weeks: "man! max! i'm so excited! this could be a potential roomy!" or "oh man, when do i get to meet mr. vegas?" or "do you think he'll go gambling with me?"

(as mr. melby is assigning seats) melby: "and sit there" [next to me]

all hopes of a roomy were dashed as i realized she..."alex"... was...a she. a chick. a female. not a boy. not a dude. not THE vegas i envisioned in my head.

she seems pretty much pissed off all the i just say "vegas" whenever referring/referencing/asking her something. if she gets pissed off...tough...she ruined our hopes of a good room for tour.

fifth hour: "hi, i'm mr. gilbertson. welcome to physics...blah blah blah" [he continued with the usual introductory speech] then out of nowhere "you'll be expected to bring a pen and a....hey! where'd you buy that spam shirt?"

me: "at the spam store."

i'm pretty sure we didn't do a thing the rest of class.

mustache out!

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Chronicle Of A Blog Post Foretold

School was...worse than summer. The AP German/AP Physics one-two combo to start the day is a killer. Considering today's experience, I'm thinking maybe AP Psych is not for me this year...but we'll see. Band was bad (3 months without playing will do that to you), and the new Vegas arrival proved to be unsuitable as a roomy for several reasons:
1. She is a girl, so it's technically impossible.
2. She wore a skull necklace and too much eyeliner today.
3. She spent the whole hour blabbing about how much worse our band is than her old band back in Vegas, saying things like "So you guys don't even do competitive marching?" and "Hope you guys don't suck..."

But there's one good story from today: Mr. Barnett. He does have a portrait of GWB up on the wall, but I can forgive him. In fact, his manner of speaking is rather Dubyaish. He tends to babble a bit and lose his train of thought, and he uses some charming, folksy language. Today he was explaining how economics was not a "hard" science. "You know, the hard sciences are like physics, chemistry, biology. I mean, if I kick the wall, my foot is going to get hurt. That's, you know, Newton's law or something..."

But you know if Barnett ever did choose to kick the wall, the entire school would crumble around him before he got a bruise.

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Tuesday, September 05, 2006

"Cause though I leave her waiting, she knows I'll turn against myself again"

wow. high school. pew.

guess who DOESN'T have a car to drive? hey! if you guessed "andrew kubas" you're correct! give yourself +10 bonus points.

O Canada! Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide,O Canada,
We stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

Forgive me, i felt like busting out Canada's national anthem. See, we just received our THIRD hit from our northerly neighbors. welcome to the palace!

'tis official! The Bread Party will be running with Melby/Z for our 2008 ticket.

The talented Phil Olsen won our Gubernatorial race. The Senate candidate is none other than Tom Selleck. This is quite exciting! For +20 bonus points: come up with the cleverest 2008 slogan.

I'll see you high school folk tomorrow. Actually, I'm not too sure about that. blah blah blah mustache out

(btw, check out ontherun... and logan's blog for some entertaining fun!)

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It's Part Of My ILLUSION!

I went in to the school today to check out my scheduling options. I had some downtime waiting for sophomores to clear out, but I filled it nicely with Ghostface-fueled hall walking.

I talked to Shelly Streed, Alan Hewitt, and ____ Peterson (fill in his name if you know it) about taking AP Psych this year. Peterson explained that he doesn't do independant study (with the exception of one student last year who "went over his head" to take AP Euro [yes, it was Tay]), so SS suggested I could be her "psychology guinea pig" and instead take the College Level Examination P-word I forget, or CLEP test instead. It's basically a college exam for the entry level college psychology course. Mr. Peterson repeatedly denied having any knowledge about CLEP tests. Mr Hewitt was slightly more knowledgable. He said that CLEP tests were not as widely recognized as A.P. exams, and that they had kind of a "G.E.D. vibe." Also, because they are not based around a curriculum, they can be "a real bitch to take" (I'm not sure if Hewitt actually said "bitch," but it seems to fit).

So...does anyone know anything about CLEP tests? Tay, should I just talk to the principal (it ends P-A-L, because he's your pal!), get a textbook, and prepare myself for the AP exam? Is Peterson required to advise me if I take psych independent study, or can I pull a Tay and just get a textbook and curriculum guide from him and take the AP test? Because if the CLEP test is so hard but also not as classy as an AP test, I may as well just try to go AP, right?

Goodness this post has a lot of parenthetical statements. Oh, and check the comments on Logan's blog for a pop quiz.

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Monday, September 04, 2006

Those Who We're About To Mock, We Salute You

Finally, a Bread Party candidate we can all agree upon:

So I've been worrying lately about how I have five AP classes and wondering if I'm going to be able to handle all the work and still have some time for fun. I just try to tell myself that, with the possible exception of Barnett (but who knows?), my teachers this year are the very best BHS has to offer. One might not exactly want to get a drink with all of them (Blong because he's a jerk, Herr P because he would drink you unter der Tisch with his mad German root beer quaffing skillz), but there's really no one else I'd rather have teaching me this year.

Oh well. Fingers crossed!

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Sunday, September 03, 2006

"I'm Andrew Kubas, and I approve the following message."

good lord, my life has been pretty crazy lately. it has centered a lot around gambling--but not the addicting casino type.

i went golfing with my friends on wednesday...and naturally we had to have a little $$ on the game. Visualize: hole 7 at the preserve. A 25 foot putt breaking 3 feet from left to right. i had to drain the beast in order to salvage "halving" the hole...and save some huge cash. i just stroked it (STROKIN'!) and it fell perfectly into the cup. i mean it was BEAUTIFUL.

afterwards tom day/hennen, rhett and myself decided to eat out at the new china garden. PEW. the food was only "OK"...but wayyyy toooooo expensive. i pulled off the miraculous "trifecta" (aka 3 full plates of chinese cuisine) i wouldn't recommend it to anyone.

the next day (thursday) i had a phone call at about 4:00 PM:

Tom Day: "Wanna go to the casino?"
Long story short...we had about 14 jackpot parties between the two of us--and on 11 of them--we hit a POOPER on the first touch. PEW. still, i was up $20. the highlight of the night: no one checked our ID coming after about an hour of gambling...the HEAD of security came WITH a friendly bouncer. He was like, "gentlemen, could i see some I.D.?" and while he spoke the words the bouncer behind him was adjusting his shirt and tie. it was a scene right out of the movies.

friday was pretty boring...the Neon essentially died leaving me at home to watch the game. my take: bundy BY FAR looked the best on D. i'm not saying that because he's a mustache--i think he legitimately was the best on D. (speaking of football: max, could i borrow the megaphone for the moorhead game friday?)

...and now, saturday, the highlight of my week. a few days ago tom hennen set a goal...nay, a DREAM for the entire world to behold...'twas an idea so incredible that only 4 daring young men would attempt to do it. tom hennen/day, nick anderson, and myself set out to beat the game NBA Hang Time. for those of you who perhaps are unfamiliar with the game, it was the 1996 N64 classic which, unfortunately, seems unbeatable. our mission: to defeat all 30 NBA teams in one day. (the computer essentially cheats and always comes from behind to win games...they hit full court shots, don't call goaltending, steal the ball from 20 feet away...etc)

2 hours and 30 minutes passed: 6 games won. we decided the game was impossible to beat. so, we once again decided to try out the china garden. PEW. not only was the food worse the 2nd time around but they jacked the price. we're talking $14 per buffet. RIPOFF. RIP. OFF.

anyway, we arrived back to tom hennen's house at 11:45. innocent nick anderson--of all people--had a genius idea. he had heard about betta fish at wal-mart...apparently if you leave two males together in the same bowl they attack each other. being that we missed "friday fight night" or whatever it's called on ESPN, we decided to hold our own "saturday night fight" with the fish. items purchased at wal-mart: 3 bottles of fish food, 5 bowls, and 6 fish.

as a group, we bought two fish to fight immediately...and each of us purchased our own individual fish. we're going to train them...feed them..etc, and then we're holding another fight night on tuesday. (MORNING-LINE ODDS WILL BE POSTED IF YOU WANT IN)

we came back to TH's house at 12:30...and the fights were on! we placed two fish in the bowl...the suspension was building! the two circled around...faced each other...came nose-to-nose!!! ...and then they both backed off into their own corners. nothing. nada. no action. no accion.

so now, i am left with my raise from his infancy to become...


in my state of tired-drunkeness last night (note: not DRUNKENESS, TIRED-drunkeness...who do you think i am?) my friends persuaded me to name him "mohammed." but, after some deep thought, i have determined his official name to be...

ALPHA, the betta fish. (get it?? DO YA? it doesn't have to be spelled correctly to be a great pun)

This photo shows Alpha all sweet and innocent like...just floating around...but WATCH OUT! he's ready to attack!

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such wisdom

Well, sadly I've been away from the blogosphere for these last few days. By the time I finally returned...I realized that all of you college folk (should) be gone by now. So...with the assistance of the BRILLIANT David Letterman, I thought he could help you if your new roomate(s) get out of line. (This also helps Maxwell and myself weed out the competition for our band roomy)

Top Ten Signs Your New College Roommate is Nuts

10. Walks around campus wearing nothing but a spiral notebook

9. He orders Big Macs with extra condoms

8. Whenever you put up a college pennant, he takes it down and eats it

7. Keeps reminiscing about the time he was married to Larry King for a semester

6. His personal web site:

5. He keeps cutting the eyes out of your Hanson poster

4. Claims to be majoring in something called "gettin' some"

3. His GPA's lower than his blood alcohol level

2. He says he wants to sleep on top, but you don't have bunk beds

1. Has his S.A.T. scores tattooed on his forehead

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Don't Kill The Dream; Execute It

I seem to have become an unwilling participant in a competition with myself to see how late I can stay up in the last few nights before school starts. The past threee nights I've gone to bed at 3, 3, and 2 a.m.While they were all for a good reason (Arrested Development, Arrested Development, and the Josh Mattson Farewell Circle Jerk, respectively), I really do think I should quit this silly contest with myself, declare victory for both me and myself, and do my best to adjust to a 6:45 wake-up time by wednesday morning. Shouldn't be too hard, right?

Sam Walker: Get your own damn blog. Or join WTITYB. Or just quit not blogging altogether.I just think your presence here is doing you, and us, more bad than good. Move on. Run free in the blogosphere. Really, you could just become our blogging circle's own personal troll and comment flame your way into the history books.

I saw "The Hole Story" in Jenkins yesterday. It was terribly funny, but it carried quite a bit of dramatic weight and pathos as well. My lingering suspicion that there is something inherently funny and intrinsically poignant about a solitary man in a furry hat standing on a windswept froze lake (Props to Tay for giving me the "inherently...intrinsically..." structure from his The Passionate Shepherd To His Love essay. I think his exact phrase was "...if love is inherently philanthropic, or intrsically altruistic..."That got some giggles.) The biggest negative: Mr. and Mrs. Paul Melby were also in the theater, so I had to worry about that in the back of my head. Afterwards we met the filmmaker ( a nice young man bearing a strong resemblance to a young Bob Dylan) and purchased a signed DVD, but only after Mrs. Melby had purchased five DVDs, each signed to a different child/nephew.

I've been thinking about psychology as a possible subject of study in college, which has in turn led to me to consider dropping macroecon in favor of AP psych second semester. Would I want to do psych independent study or something?

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Friday, September 01, 2006

Ribs For Lunch, Bacon For Dinner

This summer has seen an all-time high in Max Kuehn police encounters. Last summer I was pulled over once, during race weekend, for "swerving within my own lane." No ticket, but the insurance company did find out about me and started charging my parents for an extra driver. Whump whump. However, tonight I hit police encounter number three for the summer. While my experience with Capelle in the Wal-Mart parking lot was far funnier, this one was easily the dumbest.

Here's the scene: After a farewell evening of skulking aboot with Sam and Josh, I was on my way home. Just past St. Francis, there was a large collection of squad cars with lights a-blazin'. A group of teens stood and watched the action; when I drove past, I discerned among them a certain Mr. Christopher Oslund, wearing a knit pink cap and tight pinstripe vest. I said "hey" and he said "hey." Mr. Oslund then chose to sprint after my car, and I did the only logical thing: I accelerated away from him for about a quarter block. I continued driving to the end of the block when I noticed a red and blue light had come on the car behind me. The cop (a big fat white guy, shocker I know) shined his light on me, and I said "I'M STROKIN'!" But seriously folks, he gave me a warning for "squealing my tires." Goddamn you Chris Oslund and your pink knit cap.

P.S.: If my wife is sufficiently awesome, the first dance at my wedding will be The Clash's "Lover's Rock." If she also possesses a keen sense of irony, dance # 2 will be Clarence Carter's "Strokin'."

P.P.S.:I hope someone gets the joke in this post's title.

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