Wednesday, February 28, 2007

If Holbrook Is Unavailable I'll Settle For Capelle

So I've been working on logos for Battle of the Bands.Ideally, this would be an image of Paul playing an electric guitar, but even my paint skillz aren't that mad. Could someone else find/create such an awesome image? Surely someone has thought of the "Paul Bunyan and his Axe" joke before, right?

Also much appreciated would be preliminary designs for a Guitars, Dragons, And Explosions! theme.

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Tuesday, February 27, 2007

So Close..

First off, I'd like to welcome Delaware to the Mustache Nation. A hit from its capitol, Dover, kept the first State from being the last State in.

Does Winchester count for a hit from West Virginia? It is located right on the Virginia-West Virginia border and has the potential to put the Mustaches over the top. Yes, technically, Winchester is in Virginia, but, as I've stated before on this blog, people in West Virginia don't know how to use computers.


Now, Return To Me!

I've got a phone interview with a dude from Princeton this Saturday. He called me today to set it up, and he tried to claim it was just about answering any questions I might have about the college. But we all know the real purpose of this sort of interview: to seperate the top-tier IV-grade wheat from the "Don't you think you're more of a Dartmouth kind of student?" chaff.

With that in mind, I'm busy compiling a list of answers to memorize so I can rattle them off with robotlike precision when John Q. Princeton comes a-calling...literally!*

Favorite Color: orange
Second favorite color: black
Favorite animal: tiger
Favorite song: Princeton rouser
Favorite word: nattily

Mom's proffession: practically runs the local community college
Dad's proffession: gorilla, wait, tiger tamer!

Special talents: astral projection, super speed

Also, my cat has a master's degree**, and my dogs are world renowned acrobats, and my refrigerator can talk.

*I realize that when used in this sense, "calling" means visiting in person, not calling on the telephone. However, I submit that this sentence is still viable, based on the inherent hilarity of the "...literally!" construction.
**Apostrophe or no apostrophe on "master(')s degree? This could be a matter of grave importance.

P.S.: I'm trying to come up with a theme for this year's Battle of the Bands. I guess they want something where we can put a guitar on the t-shirt, becase last year's shirt had a guitar and it went over well. I'm having a little bit of a mental block here, but here's what I have so far (possible mottos in italics after theme):

This Was Meant To Be
The Prophecy Has Been Fulfilled

Guitars, Dragons, & Explosions!/
Guitars, Lightning, & Rocketships!
Awwww Yeeeeaaahh!

Rock Your Socks Off

Any suggestions? Remember this is Youth As Resources, so it needs to be relatively tame, i.e. Sam Walker's suggestion of "Big Fucking Eagles And Big Fucking Dragons" would not be acceptable.

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This is also the 600th post
Time for a party

P.S.What is this

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Monday, February 26, 2007

I Know I'm A MillIon Times More Humble Than Thou Art

Big KB at Concordia today. We got second place on a weak-sauce technicality, but I don't mind.

Man, the competition (at least in the region) seems way easier this year. Or maybe Metallica is just unbelievably awesome and I can't tell.

This is why I need a Knowledge Bowl video game. I could create the ultimate fantasy oral round (heh heh, ultimate fantasy oral round) with Sans Colouttes, Stuck On Burma, Death Eaters, and Metallica, set the Wii to auto-simulate, and see who prevailed.

Man, a KB video game could be really sweet. You'd listen to questions, buzz in, and give your answer. I suppose you'd have to type in answers, which could be tough in the 15 second limit. Maybe the game would come with some sweet voice-recognition microphone thing . Anyways, you'd totally select your team of four based on their expertise in a variety of subject areas, and after you buzzed in they'd whisper suggetions to you.

Alright, I'll be honest here. I'd be most interested in seeing how I'd stack up against myself in 9th, 10th, and 11th grades. Which Max would get a question about stars or something first? Would senior Max be the seasoned old salt and get the buzz on the the younger Maxes? Or would freshman Max have the quickest, clearest thoughts, being more pure of heart as he was?

Oh man, Weird Al just did a polka-style rendition of the chorus of Enter Sandman, followed immediately by The Humpty Dance. In the van at about 7 a.m. this morning, Sam gave me my b-day gifts from him and Josh, respectively: a stack of Weird Al CDs, and a bag containing a loaf of "pulla" from NW bread+bagel and a big daddy-sized Dad's Root Beer. Thanks dudes.

Josh's gift provided the most immediate benefits, but I have a feeling Sam's will make the more enduring contribution. Weird Al is pretty sweet, especially the afore-mentioned medleys in which he smushes together the licks from a dozen or so popular songs, then sets it to a whacky polka melody. It is a musical experience like no other.


Best quote from the Weird Al Wikipedia site:

On numerous occasions, Prince has refused Yankovic permission to record parodies of his songs. Yankovic has stated in interviews that he has "approached him every few years [to] see if he's lightened up."[30]

Also, this is a solid Onion article on Al. Make sure to check out his notes.

P.S.: Okay, a special challenge for you, 10 points to the winner. What letters make up the following WV? I know those WV bastards give me these obscure ones just to screw with me. All the other WV are just generated by a computer, but when I log on, some asshole in a tie comes over and strings together Ws and Vs until he can't see straight.


Saturday, February 24, 2007

Win One For The Gipper

I just walked to Cub Foods and back, through a blizzard, while listening to the Kleptones' A Night At The Hip-Hopera. I'm a big fan of walking while listening to music. The only time I really don't like to walk is during heavy rain or extreme cold. The benefits of walking with music are three-fold:

1. The walking
I don't get enough exercise, and when I do go to the YMCA I am inevitably infected with some sort of sweat-transmitted virus. Walking is easy on the ol' knees and back, and it forces me to appreciate how out of shape I am when I get out of breath and sore from goddamn walking.

2. The music
I don't listen to enough music, and when I do I'm always doing something else at the same time so I can't really appreciate the tunes. When I'm walking I've got nothing better to do but listen to the lyrics and memorize the chorus.

3. The beauty
I don't see enough sweet stuff during the course of the day, and when I do I don't have time to appreciate it. Walking gives me a chance to stop and smell the roses, so to speak. The snow was really pretty today, for example, and walking down the middle of fourth street during a blizzard at 9 p.m. after a Tuesday night orchestra concert is also good fun, as I learned last year. Why, just yesterday, when I was walking to the high school for my final pep band performance (sniffle, sob), I saw the wind whip two sheets of paper out of a trash bin and up into the stratosphere, and I watched a single cigarette ember blow down the street for quite a ways. Also, the music and the atmosphere will occasionally line up, which is wicked sweet.

Kubas, I think you should do both Pelkey and Christian Barnett a solid and get a real American Hero tattooed on your biceps. He'll smile when you flex?

Dr. Gary Vikan, Lade's friend who runs the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore, has a blog now. It is new, but pretty good. It focuses, as one might expect, on art. Comments only appear after being "approved by the blog administrator," so be patient.

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Friday, February 23, 2007

no really. why not?

i am getting a tattoo.

i don't know when. but probably soon.

i asked hillSTORM to draw something fancy, and now julie has entered the race of potential things to be permanently put on my body.

any suggestions from the mustache faithful?

mustache out!


Thursday, February 22, 2007

The Jerk Who Fell To Earth

So Sam Walker was talking about the David Bowie movie The Man Who Fell To Earth the other day, and he mentioned how David Bowie's character, an alien who comes to earth, became rich and famous thanks to the advanced technological knowledge he brought with him. Naturally, I started to ponder what knowledge I could share with an alien world. My first thought was that I'd be pretty useless at trying to replicate earthling technology. I couldn't even assemble a light bulb/internal combustion engine/electric motor if given all the parts and neccesary tools, much less manufacture the parts or tools themselves.

Upon further consideration, I decided that my contribution to this hypothetical culture (a few hundred years behind our own, I guess) would be more theoretical than practical. I could approximate most of the important equations in the physics textbook, make a pretty good periodic table, and give a semi-thorough explantion of the theory of evolution. These would be called Max's Laws, the periodic table of the Max, and the theory of Max, respectively. I wouldn't have a lot of evidence (experimental or mathematical) to back these up, but ideally my "outer space alien" status would give me enough street cred to get them accepted.

Also, depending upon the cultural similarties of this new planet to Earth, I could totally introduce and take credit for some cultural-type stuff. For example, on Earth 2, the sandwhich, the pizza, and the hamburger would all be called the Max. Whenever someone was talking about a Max, you'd have to tell the difference through context. Also, soccer, basketball, and football would all be referred to as Maxball. I'd introduce what little I know of rugby too, but it would probably suck, and we'd call it Tayball.

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I'm steppin it up this time.

soc soc soc soc soc soccer practice!


Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Knock Knock

Oh Christ, tennis is starting soon. I'm kinda worried about that.

I mean I realize tennis basically ain't no thang compared to, well, any other sport, and I could probably just screw off the whole year with no adverse effects. But I want to be sort of okay at tennis this year, and I got a new tennis racket for Christmas, so I wanna do it justice, and I'm gonna be the "enforcer," so I gotta be bulked up enough to inspire a little fear and respect for captain Bundy.

Which brings me to another reason for me to get in shape (at least a little) for tennis this year: Captain Bundy. Bundy has threatened to be a total hardass, and I hope he makes good on those threats. I have a feeling Shilzy will be of the same mind, and we can just ignore Imgrund. When Bundy drives alongside us in the Merc, yelling threats through a megaphone and snapping a whip as we round the courthouse, I wanna be near the front of the pack.

So they're doing the top ten thing for the yearbook again. I need a picture of myself as a child and a favorite memory from BHS. I got approval to have a quote instead, so this baby is definitely a go:

"I work without a net, dangling precariously on the edge of genius and insanity, glory and despair, acceptance and rejection." --Tay Stevenson

I found this sweet picture of myself at about age 10-12, I'd wager. Man I was a fat little turd. The dirtbag smile, the chubby cheeks, the sweatshirt/pants combo...what's not to like?

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Tuesday, February 20, 2007

I Would Describe Such A Truck As Monstrous!

Concerning the monster truck show itself, I came to two basic conclusions:
A: It was a lot of fun
B: I'm probably not going to do it again

It was the sort of event that you want to experience once, but not neccesarily more than once.

About monster trucks:
Point number one: these motherfuckers are LOUD. I mean, teeth-rattling, eyeball-puncturing, scrotum-clenching loud, so loud that when warm fluid starts pumping out of your ears, you don't know if it's blood, cochleal fluid, or vitreous humor, and you don't care. When it got loud at Gopher games (probably the loudest stadium experience of my life before this), it was kind of powerful and transcendent; you could close your eyes and scream as loud as you could and kind of be at peace within the white-noise roar of the crowd. But this shit? This shit just hurt.
Very important equipment

Wayne happened to have an extra pair of earplugs, and those little waxy nubbins saved my ass. It was kind of a bitch to take them out and put them in, though. You'd keep 'em out to listen to some veteran driver talk about the proper technique for clearing a really enormous dirt jump (you gotta throttle it up, then ease up at the top and sort of lob the truck over; otherwise, you'll snap the suspension and your run is over), then have to pop 'em back in pronto before the fuckin jet engines kicked in.

Thanks to the racket, communication of any sort (spectator to spectator, announcer to crowd, etc.) was nearly impossible (although Amelia was resourceful enough to think of typing in a text on her phone and just showing it to me), so we were pretty much on our own for figuring out the format. The event began with some driver/truck introductions. The trucks were parked along the edges of the arena, which is itself deserving of some description here. I can't find any images of similar set-ups, so you'll just have to imagine it (with some assistance from my incredibly detailed schematic drawing--see below).

We were inside the Metrodome, but it looked far different than I've ever seen it before. The first 30 rows were covered in white tarps (for fan safety, I assume), the field was completely covered in dirt, and there were four major obstacles in the middle. There were two long, low jumps, one red and the other blue, with a line of sedan chassis in the middle of each, a larger red and blue striped jump in the middle, and next to that a ridiculously big purple and gold jump, crowned by a purple short bus. This final jump was dubbed "Mount Minnesota," and the announcer spent most of the night reminding us that it was the "largest object ever to be placed on the Metrodome field!"So...after the intros (they turned out the lights and started playing "Bad To The Bone" when Grave Digger came out), there was a time trial sort of thing to determine the seeds for the race portion. Basically, the trucks would run once around the stadium, hitting the red jump and the blue jump once each. It was boring and loud. Then came a brief intermission, with a four-wheeler race between the black-clad cads of Wisconsin and the white knights of Minnesota (Wisconsin won this "prelimnary heat"), then more racing, this time with a single elimination tournament format. After another brief respite (Minnesota came from behind to win the "Championship heat" in the four wheeler business; hooray?), Grave Digger beat out the Air Force truck for the win.

At this point, things were looking pretty bad. The event had been kind of a yawn-fest, my head was throbbing, and my eyes and throat stung from the copious amounts of dust and smoke in the air. Luckily, it was at this point that things started to turn around.

First, we had the best "tweener" act of the night: the trailer demolition race. Now races are fun, and demolition races are even better, but neither of them can hold a candle to a trailer demolition race. The competitors were a dozen or so cars, deprived of their windshields and crudely painted, each pulling a trailer. Some trailers were empty, but others held boats, life-sized dummys, pianos, and, in the case of one badass, a hundred pounds of shredded paper. The rules were simple; the first car to finish the race with an intact trailer won.Man, this was a really sweet event. Stuff was falling off left and right, and the shredded paper guy was making white rings around the whole arena. Cars were getting run off the track, or into each other, or into the three or four boats which had fallen off during the first lap. By about the fifth lap, half the cars were out and only a few still had their trailers. Near the end of the race, a little yellow hatchback flipped over on a turn. They stopped the race and cleaned up the track as the driver wormed his way out and thrust his arms into the air, and the crowd went wild. A front end loader came out and flipped over his car, and the dude finished the race. Now that's the sort of thing that makes you proud to be an American.

The second factor in the emotional turnaround was the next event, the freestyle competition. Wikipedia offered up a little bit of history on this subject: apparently when monster truck shows first started to tour the nation, the races were the focus. However, some of the more popular drivers asked for the opportunity to perform for the crowd when they were eliminated early. These early exhibitions were so popular that freestyle has become a new category for competition. Drivers have 90 seconds to take whatever course they choose through the arena. They recieve a score of 3-30 (1-10 from three judges) based on rhythm, execution, variety, and showmanship. The trucks get big air, pull wheelies, and occasionally smash like trailer homes or airplanes or whatever. It is reeeeally kickass.

It was during the freestyle that I started to suspect that monster truck competition, much like pro wrestling, may be fixed. The first few drivers really sucked (one guy barely got started before his truck broke down), the next few were a little better, and the last three were totally awesome. No one even made an attempt at the Red n' Blue jump until the third to last guy, and only the last two made it over Mt. Minnesota. And, suprise of suprises, Grave Digger went last and dominated everybody. He hit the big jumps twice each, smashed an RV (apparently brought out just for this purpose), and finished his time by flipping over his truck.
Final result: a double victory for Grave Digger...but at what cost? This suspicious double victory by the most popular truck in the world has turned me into a heartless, hopeless cynic. Damn you Grave Digger.

In retrospect, I guess I'd do this again. There was a little patriotic bullshit during the pre-game ("We, we're just so dern free!"), and it was loud and stinky, but overall it was pretty sweet, and at $16 relatively cheap.

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Monday, February 19, 2007

some real syllogistic reasoning for your ass

Premise I: God is love.
Premise II: Love is blind.
Premise III: Stevie Wonder is blind.
Conclusion: Therefore, Stevie Wonder is God

and on a lighter note, i can prove that girls are evil -

girls = time x money

time = money

therefore, girls are (money)^2

now, money = root of all evil

so girls are the root of evil squared

girls are evil

compliments of a boring night alone with wikipedia


Mt. Minnesota

It's 6:30 pm, Saturday night. I'm in Minneapolis, eating dinner with my dad, my cousins, and our friend Wayne. We're fueling up for a night of monster trucks, and I'm starting to have second thoughts.

Not everyone seems that excited about going, I had a headache (thanks mostly to an explosive, out-0f-the-blue nosebleed earlier that afternoon), and our host, Kristine, is regaling us with second-hand tales of the ear-splitting racket and noxious fumes at previous Monster Jam events.

We eventually decided to go, and I'm glad we did. Not just because it was awesome (more on that later), but because I'm pretty sure I was destined to go to this automotive spectacular. Consider the following signs:

1. On the drive down, Sam had to carefully pass a flatbed truck with a "wide load" (if you know what I'm sayin') of enormous tires. I realize in retrospect that these tires were too narrow, roughed up and solid to be for monster trucks (monster truck tires are uniformly wide, balloon-ish, and brand spankin' new), but I think this was still fairly prophetic. It's basically the eqivalent of being on your way to a Prince concert and having to skirt a flatbed truck carrying the world's largest purple dildo.

2. Josh's mom bought us breakfast on Saturday morning (this was a very economical trip for me, thanks mostly to generous adults. I spent a total of about $7 the whole weekend, and one of those dollars was loaned to josh). Josh's little brother Sam was there, and, in the manner of cute, hyperactive little boys, he brought a couple of toys into the Hard Times. One of those toys was a pull-back monster truck.

3. I opened up a campus newspaper (the Wake, maybe?) while waiting for my food. On almost the first page I opened upto, right near an excellent article about how Jewishness is the new fad among college kids, I spotted this little signal from the spirits:

Does anyone have any monster truck themed poetry?
Send it in to the Wake!


This post was originally going to be part of the main monster truck post, but I've decided to post it separately because the main post is getting a tad long. You'll just have to wait a little while longer for the big one...

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Saturday, February 17, 2007

Lookin For A Hard Headed Woman

Aw fuck.

My birthday's a week from today, and I've neglected to make a birthday list until now. That's just the dumbest thing you can do in this situation. People don't know what to get you, you end up with less stuff (the only thing that really matters, after all), and it's all your fault. Oh well, here's what I've got so far.

I've put things into categories to show the rank you will recieve for purchasing a gift in a certain value category.

Premium Friend Club (Things I want but don't expect to recieve; from parents, grandparents, secret admirers):
new iPod
Wii controller+nunchuck
underarmor shirt/tights

Classy Gents (Things that are nice, but sorta pricy; from rich bastards, aunts, uncles, cousins, strangers wanting to make a good first impression):
walkman cassette player
Kapilavastu (Buddha, Vol. 1) by Osamu Tezuka
strangers w/ candy on dvd
South Park: the hits, vol 1
South Park: season 9
UHF dvd
Weird Al cds

Starving Artists (Cheap, sweet stuff; from poor SOBs, tightfists, people I don't know):
winter hat
loaf of pulla from NW+ big daddy sized Dad's root beer
Grave Digger shirt
Led Zeppelin cds
other good books, good cds

Twinkie Smugglers (Things I don't want; from enemies, Sam Walker):
Light bulbs
Cottage cheese
Poison stamps
Paper cuts

We'll see how this turns out.

And I have a sweet monster trucks post in the works, don't worry.

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Thursday, February 15, 2007

What's The Story, Morning Glory?

House, M.D. is one of my favorite TV shows. Not because it is constantly taking risks and innovating, bringing something fresh every week, although some shows can do that (CSI: Miami, I'm looking at you).

In fact, I like House because it does just the opposite: it delivers basically the same show every week. It takes a winning formula and doesn't alter it. House cracks jokes and bitches about life. Everyone tries to cramp his style, but House wins out in the end, and the patient makes it through his/her quirky-yet-terrifying ailment. House is the only real character; my mom and I (along with, I can only assume, the rest of America) just refer to the other characters by their easily classifiable attributes.

It is now my pleasure to present to you my primer on House, M.D.

Clockwise from the bottom: House, Australian Doctor, Boss Doctor, Black Doctor, Friend Doctor, and Girl Doctor

Alright, now that you're familiar with the principles, I'll lay out the plotline:

8 pm: Hey, here's a person. Aw fuck, she/he passed out and won't wake up/is bleeding and won't stop/has gone totally fucking nuts!

8:10 pm:
House: Oh Christ, I'm a cripple! Fuck the world!
Black doctor: This patient has some unusual symptoms.
House: Gimme that, you watermelon-loving criminal!

8:12 pm:
House: Problem solved! Jesus Christ I am a charming, handsome rouge! All this and brains too!

8:16 pm:
Girl Doctor: The treatment isn't working!
House: What? Goddamnit, guess you were wrong, you uppity dingbat!

(commercial break)

8:20 pm:
Patient: I don't use drugs/have affairs.
House: It's fuckin drugs/STDs! Problem solved for real this time!

8:30 pm:
Patient: Thank you so much.
House: Fuck you!
Patient: Oh God, I'm relapsing!
House: Shit!

(long commercial break)

8:40 pm:
House: I know what the problem is!
Patient's mother/wife/husband/lover: You said that before and you were wrong!
House: Well I know for sure this time you pea-brained numbskulls! Outta my way!

(commercial break)

8:42 pm:
Australian Doctor: House, you can't do this!
House: Screw off, you panty-waisted, accent-having ninny!

8:45 pm:
Friend Doctor: House, this is morally wrong!
House: Eat a dick!

8:50 pm:
Boss Doctor: House, if you do this you will lose your liscense and your job and you will go to jail!
House: Fuck you, bitch!

8:55 pm:
Everyone in unison: Well House, I guess you were right after all!
House: That's right! Suck it, you stupid motherfuckers!

9 pm:
Announcer: Next week on House....House and his team face the weirdest medical shit ever!
House: AW FUCK!

And that's basically all there is to it. Just tune in every week and you'll be in the flow in no time.

Lather, rinse, and repeat, baby. Always repeat.

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It's A Celebration, Bitches

Hot damn, one year in the blogosphere.

It seems like only yesterday we were on this very same field, celebrating kinderfriend day. I remember the shining sun being reflected in the shining happiness of our shiny little faces, shining with potential, a potential which I see reflected today when I look out on the sea of shining faces before me...

Whoa whoa whoa, sorry about that, I slipped into grad speech mode for a second there. That shiny little gem isn't due to be unveiled for another few months. year. Big anniversery. Bigger than normal. How shall we celebrate? I propose a retrospective series of posts, featuring the finest each of our contributors has offered up to this point, and a few of our more ambitious joint posts, culminating with some sort of poll to choose the best mustache post of our inaugeral year.

Some have expressed the opinion that we should merely link the honored posts; I am of the belief that they would be best presented in their original form and full glory.

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there! upon the ridge!


max, you should have just asked barnett to be your valentine. it would have been so much easier.


best valentine's day moment: brett kramer before giving his flowers to kaila...

"i'm so nervous!"

(insert moment of "awwwwe!")


today is our ONE-YEAR birthday! or is it an anniversary? no one really knows. i'll be gone. the whole day. so i figured i would come on early and celebrate.

let the festivities begin!


Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Spatula City

Christian "The Bionic Stark" Barnett, the new AP econ teacher, is so charming...

Bustling crowed: HOW CHARMING IS HE?

He's so charming, I'm a big fan, despite all the reasons why I shouldn't be.

He's an outspoken conservitive. Earlier in the year, he bragged constantly in class about the football team of Ohio State University, often engaging in protracted posturing with a student who supported the rival Michigan Wolverines. He has a ridiculous, clip-arty poster of GWB on his wall. In any discussion of economics in the real world, be it present day or historical, he is resolutely, amazingly, stupfyingly pro-American. Allow me to outline a few illuminating examples:
Stimulus: The Japanese economy is mentioned in a positive light.
Response: Japan was "almost wholly an American creation."

Stimulus: America's huge trade deficit.
Response: This makes for cheap goods, and the higher spending they trigger is actually a net positive for the economy.

Stimulus: The current reccession.
Response: The economy is recovering at record pace and more jobs have been created in the past 4 years than ever before, or something.

Stimulus: Unparalleled American growth in the 1990s.
Response: Ronald Regan was great.

So he's got all that going against him, and you know what? I like him. Whenever he trips up on a subject or has a mistake on a test (which are both perfectly understandable, considering how he's making the curriculum and writing the tests as we go along), I'm rooting for him. I watch Chris Dens and Logan bring up valid points when questioning Barnett's logic, and I just think "Man, shut up and roll with it."

Perhaps this is what George W. Bush is like in person. I think that would explain quite a bit of his success.

P.S.: I think that this example reflects a general shift in my attitude away from caring about politics.

P.P.S.: Nice picture from my aunt Sarah. Because nothing says "I love you" like used motel furniture.

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Tuesday, February 13, 2007

The Devil Went Down To Georgia

I don't know if you've heard, but that enormous pile of taxpayer money called the Forestview Planetarium is going to be hosting a series of rockin' laser shows the week of February 26th, culminating with a veritable extravagnaza of lasers and rock on the evening of March 3rd to commemorate the lunar eclipse that very night.

The Dispatch story tells us that "music from Pink Floyd, U2, Yanni, Elton John, The B-52's, AC/DC, Joan Jett, Journey and many more will be featured." I (much like you, no doubt) was initially excited by the prospect of all those great artists being in the same place at the same time. Alas and alack, only a few will be featured per show. Here's the breakdown, straight from (it has crazy html formatting, so please forgive some overlap):

Laser Shows in the Forestview Planetarium : February 26 - March 3:
Come hear great music and see an awesome laser showAll shows listed below will be $5 per person. There will be no presale of tickets. Seating will be based on a first come basis. Shows will begin at the time listed and will show multiple times if enough tickets are sold. See three shows and get the fourth free!
Feb 26th 6:00-7:00-8:00
Speak to Me
On the Run
The Great Gig in the Sky
Us and Them
Any Colour You Like
Brain Damage
(43 Minutes)
Laser U2
Feb 27th 6:00-7:00-8:00
Where the Streets Have No Name
I Will Follow
Beautiful Day
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
The Fly
Mysterious Ways
Zoo Station
With or Without You
New Year's Day
(50 Minutes)
Laser Magic
March 1st 6:00-7:00-8:00
Godzilla/Blue Oyster Cult
Love Gets Me Every Time/Shania Twain
Men In Black/Will Smith
My Heart Will Go On/Celine Dion
Storms in Africa/Enya
Money/Pink Floyd
Semi-Charmed Life/Third Eye Blind
Time Warp/Cast of Rocky Horror Picture Show
Diana (Candle In the Wind '97)/Elton John
Don't Speak/No Doubt
The Hunter/Bjork
I Love Rock & Roll/Joan Jett
Rock Lobster/The B-52's
Tub Thumping/Chumbawamba
(44 Minutes)
Laser Vinyl
March 2nd 6:00-7:00-8:00
Back in Black/AC/DC
Karn Evil 9/Elp
Jump/Van Halen
Bohemian Rhapsody/Queen
Carry On My Wayward Son/Kansas
Rock-n-Roll All Night/Kiss
Dream On/Aerosmith
Rock-n-Roll Band/Boston
Separate Ways/Journey
One of These Days/Pink Floyd
(44 Minutes)
Laser Marathon
Saturday, March 3rd
Laser Magic 5:00
Laser Vinyl 6:00
Laser U2 7:00
Pink Floyd's The Dark Side Of The Moon 8:00

Hmm lets see. I'm not that big of a U2 fan, the March 1st show is a little too easy-listening for my tastes (Celine Dion's blechiness cancels out Will Smith's awsomeness almost perfectly), and while Bohemian Rhapsody would be sweet the rest of the March 2nd show is pretty much filler.

I'm thinking the Floyd show, not only because "it's Floyd, man!" but also because Dark Side of the Moon is pretty sweet, and it has been proven to go well with lasers.

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Monday, February 12, 2007

it's all a mystery.

tonight there was a certain "pep band" performance for girls basketball.

(note to max: thanks for coming!)
(note to all: sarcasm.)

apparently tonight was also the evening when freshman/parents come in to listen to heise and decide their schedules for next year. so every parking lot was PACKED. as usual, i was running quite late. so i searched near and far for a parking spot....but i had no such luck.

then i saw two huge SUVs. they were right next to each other. and there was this tiny little sliver of an opening. i clearly wasn't a parking spot. but i thought to myself...i HAVE to give it a try. with about 6 inches to spare on my right hand side, and roughly 8 1/16 inches on my left, the neon was perfectly parked between the two automobiles.

i REALLY like the fact that no other car except for the neon would have been able to pull off that parking job.

additionally, i really wish i could have seen the reactions of the owners of the SUVs when they returned to their cars. i know they would have been thinking, "what kind of idiot mustache parks this way?"

yup, that was totally me.

lately (perhaps you have heard my voice grace the words) i've been trying to popularize the term, "It's neonic!" will it catch on? doubtful. only time will tell.

with that in mind, have a good one.

mustache out!




Sunday, February 11, 2007

Boys, It's Too Rough To Feed Ya

I've tried posting the Sledgehammer music video twice now, but youtube and/or blogger is being stubborn.

So here's something else: this blog will celebrate one year of existence this thursday. How should we mark this momentous occasion? I propose a series of Greatest Hits posts, because everyone knows that cannibilization is a great sign that a project is in its golden age. Perhaps this anniversery event could be tied in with some sort of poll to determine the greatest mustache post of all time. I'm not sure what would make the list of nominees, but this little number is pretty much a lock.

Other finds in the archives: read the first paragraph and the last comment for this post.

Item: Forbidden object of enormous power found in Pine River barn! More at 11!


after further review...

welcome aboard...


the only states missing (then we can say that the mustaches have--truly--swept the nation)

west virginia

oh man. we will get them. i can feel it.


i was wondering when you would do it.

my back hurts.
my neck hurts.
my right arm is dead.

i have a basketball game in a little over an hour.

i pulled in late last night.

i have a pile of homework just sitting in my room. i really don't want to do it.

good news: i'm really looking forward to this entire week. each day of it.

so it turns out that the U of M accidentally sent out a number of waitlist letters...but they were supposed to be acceptance letters. (no one seems to have the correct number...i've heard anywhere from 70 people to almost 1000. hmmm) anyway, that was kind of a big oops. so everyone who accidentally received the wrong letter got a legitimate acceptance letter in the mail last week. (me.) and those who were actually waitlisted hear back in late march/early april. why am i not surprised at all that this type of thing would happen to a boy named kubas? i always have the worst luck with things like this.

my fridge is really empty. nothing to drink. nor eat. it's really boring.

ladies and gents: get ready for the party of the century! i believe us mustache men will be filming this epic adventure next sunday...until then,

mustache out!


Saturday, February 10, 2007

That's A Keeper

I'm not feeling creative. This is a problem.

When I'm bored I have a few ways to alleviate the tedium. The best one is to write or design something really ridiculous. It makes me feel useful, and I might have something to show for it when I'm done. But due to my aforementioned lack of inspiration today, that's not an option.

Another way to pass the time is to go exploring or work out. But it's way too cold outside to go for a long enough walk, and I'm too sore from yesterday to even think about hitting the YMCA.

I've been reading all day, so more reading isn't going to help, and the internet is getting boring and the monitor is hurting my eyes.

What's more, my dad's tying up the TV, so no Wii or movies, and dinner's at 6 so I can't exactly drown my troubles in shrimp smoothies.

Looks like I might have to seek out some human interaction. Oh, how the mighty have fallen...

P.S.: While I may have exhausted the entertainitive capacity of the interweb for today, I do have one bit of fun news for you. As Sam Walker reminded me today, the Brainerd Daily Dispatch has decided that you know what, the best way to keep with the "in-crowd" these days is to embrace the power of this whole internet fad and post pictures on the web when people send them in. This results in some really dumb photos, and some really pointless galleries (I mean, what kind of loser takes 15 pictures of a dog that isn't a pug?). A few sweet items do slip through however, the most noteworthy of which is this glorious icon:

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Friday, February 09, 2007

Memories in the Making

Two items of news:

1. My nose is about to erupt. It has always been a semi-active region, pimple-wise, but I all sensors indicate that my nose is due for an unprecendendet outbreak. Unless drastic steps are taken to prevent it, I may be in for a few weeks of a cataclysmic seismic disaster area in the middle of my face.

2. So I guess I'm a National Merit Finalist now. High fives all around.

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Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Senior Yearbook Quotes

SENIORS YEARBOOK QUOTES - If you would like to submit a favorite quote to print in the yearbook, come to the Media Center to pick up a form. Quotes are due back by Friday, February 16. (There are books of famous quotations in the media center if you'd care to browse.)
Possible Quotes:
  1. "Wars come and go, but my soldiers stay eternal." -2Pac
  2. "Let me say for the record I'm not a gangsta and never have been. I'm just a brother who fights back." -2Pac
  3. "Life's a wheel of fortune and it's my chance to spin it."-2Pac
  4. "I smoke a blunt to take the pain out, and if I wasn't high I'd probably blow my brains out." -2Pac
  5. "I'm bangin' for the Westside- this is in my heart, this is how I feel." -2Pac
  6. "I don't walk around gangsta all day, no that's only when it's called for." - Snoop Dogg
  7. "George Bush doesn't care about black people." -Kanye West
  8. "I have had it with these muthafuckin' snakes, on this muthafuckin' plane." - Samuel L. Jackson

Any thoughts on favorites or other possible quotes?

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Word On A Wing

Second oral round score: 31
Overall: 154
Ride the lightning y'all.

Great exchange in Econ today:
All-Call: Sorry for this brief interruption. Attention all varsity dance team members, you will be practicing at Franklin...(drones on)
Chris Dens: Tiiiirrth!
Tirth Patel: Hey Chris, they're talking about you!
CD: No this is you!
TP: No, pay attention, you need to go to Franklin after school to practice!
CD: I can't, I have swimming!
TP: Oh no Chris, this is much more important!

This conversation was eerily mirrored later that day when Tirth and I were both picking up some scholarship apps from Linda:
Me: (pointing to a scholarship called "Girls Going Places") Hey Tirth, look, this one's for you!
Tirth: Oh? Don't you mean that it is for you?!?
Me:(stunned into silence by Tirth's rapier-like wit)

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it's that time again.

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Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Life Sucks And Then You Die

Three things:

1. So our once pure, innocent yearbook staff over at the Brainonian has decided that the yearbook is due for an image makeover. Gotta get more "real" for the new generation, I guess.

How so, you ask? Nudie pics? Drug tips? Profanity-laden rants? Teacher-themed Penthouse letters? Administration centerfold?

None of the above, I'm afraid. No, the good, lazy people at the Brainonian have decided to become disciples of the Church of Body Modification. According to a notice in the morning announcement, any students with piercings or tattoos (in "safe to photograph areas") should hustle on down to the media center, get a picture taken, and explain why they chose to punch holes in/permanently stain their skin, and what said perforations/markings mean to them.

I know what you're thinking: the Dark Mark is certainly worthy.

"I got it to show my devotion to the Dark Lord. Also, it burns black when he's calling me, so that's handy."

But whoever could draw it now that Jake Iten has left the building?

2. Great ad in the BDD classifieds this week:
1984 DODGE Diplomat,
4-door, loaded, runs good.

Man, what's not to like? It's from '84 (a very good year for Diplomats, if I remember correctly), it is "loaded" (read: recieves both FM and* AM radio signals), and it runs....good.

3. The Italians once again proved that they reside on the forefront of blog technology by posting this marvelous (and yet terrifying) image.One thing though: The Stallion appears to have labled this picture "rambo." I'd say that the head-scarf and scruffy demeanor mark this particular little fellow as a rodent of the America-hating (as opposed to Viet-Cong-killing) variety.

*Damnit, that ironically capitalized "AND" in lost it's intended impact when I put it between FM and AM. Capitals in the middle of a sentence are usually a recipe for hilarity. But capitals flanked by more capitals? Where's the joke then? Nowhere, that's where.

I tried adding in a few extra letters to emphasize the fact that the "AND" was sarcastic and not just an acronym, but eventually I just had to use italics, a passable but inferior device for conveying sarcasm textually.**

**This was the most Sam Walker-esque thing I've typed in my whole life. Somebody help me.

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a manly challenge.

go to the italian stallion's blog.

tell me,

which picture has been featured in the mustache palace?

first person to answer correctly gets +10 bonus points. really, these are IMPORTANT points.

mustache out!


i really have nothing to blog about.

my life (for the most part) hasn't been too crazy.

tonight was one of the few nights where i didn't have too much homework. so i've had like 2 hours of doing nothing.

i dished up a bowl of ice cream. really big. with 2 crunched up oreos. and 4 mini reese's peanut butter cups. and hershey's syrup. man. that was good. i'm guessing it will take roughly...18 days to burn off the fat/caloric intake. thank god i don't gain weight. (not to brag or anything)

really, nothing has happened in my life. so i will resort to talking about my dessert. sorry.

mustache out!

ps. winter wonder week. friday: MUSTACHE DAY!


From The Office Of Josh Mattson

this is the cover for a magazine i am currently working to produce with sam and max. it is titled gumshoe, as you can see. it weighs in at a robust 21 pages. gumshoe is full of good stuff, including erotic power rangers fanfiction and sam's secret desires. unfortunately, producing a rag of this quality takes money. the production costs are estimated at about 1.25 per issue, not including the 50 cents it will cost to ship, not to mention the huge time investment to produce and ship it.

so, we are looking for people to subscribe to gumshoe. we like making this magazine, we just don't want to have to take a huge financial hit every time we print it. the subscriptions are $3 for three issues. a buck an issue. sent right to your dorm/apartment/house. 5 cents a page. erotic power rangers fanfiction does not come any cheaper than that, folks. we plan on printing 25 copies of our first issue, and about half of these are spoken for- 10 or so to various bookstores which have promised to buy them, and 3 or 4 to subscribers. so we are asking you to help fund us. to support us as friends and pick up and read our zine which we toiled over so you could have a chuckle or two and maybe a good cry afterward. please.

send your shipping information to, and then i will email you back telling you where to send the money. we will advance send you the issue so you don't have to wait around. issues will be published every 4-6 weeks, allow one week for shipping. if the copies are sold out we will publish back issues of gumshoe as pdfs.

thanks for your support!

josh mattson, editor-in-chief and publisher of gumshoe.

p.s. gumshoe is now hiring for a gossip columnist
p.p.s. gumshoe is also accepting freelance contributions in whatever you want.

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Monday, February 05, 2007

You Wanna Make $14, The Hard Way?

So Brainerd schools were opened two hours later than usual today, due to the (not so) extreme cold. BUT this happy camper was bustled off to school anyways, thanks to a unique set of circumstances:
1. I don't listen to the radio in the morning.
2. My parents watch only the Weather Channel in the morning
3. The cold (twenty-six degrees below zero, if you must know) was far from the usual sub-sub-zero school closing/delaying level we're used to. 26 below? We're keeping our kids home at 26 below? Jeese, my mistake, I thought we were hearty Vikings, not PUSSIES.

In any case, I got to school, saw that it was thoroughly closed down, and went back home, curled up in my chair, watched the last half-hour of Caddyshack, and reflected on how great the day was starting.

I also caught the last hour or so of Sahara, a great movie in the way Independence Day or Armageddon are great: it's like it was written, directed, and acted by an intricate machine, specially designed to produce summer blockbusters. My favorite part is probably the sound track, a feel-good mixture of poppy African rhythms and classic rock worthy of the Power Loon. If my life had a soundtrack, I'd want it to be this one.

Now then: As we've been experiencing a dearth of comments lately, I'm gonna make it easier and put a couple of ideas out there for you.
1. What movie's soundtrack would you like to have as your personal soundtrack?
2. What's your favorite Caddyshack line?

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deep breath


Sunday, February 04, 2007

All Along The Watchtower

Items to buy, Post-Superbowl Update:

1. Rayovac batteries. Brett Favre says they last a long time, and I think he knows a little somthing about endurance, am I right? (nudge nudge)

2. A bucket full of a burbling brown mixture of 6 parts Budweiser and 4 parts Coke.

3. Prince's Also the rights to produce a musical based on his halftime medely.

4. Kevin Federline's latest single

Unfortunately, there were no chimps featured in any of the ads. Everybody knows chimps=hilarious=$$$. WHAT WERE THOSE MARKETING EXECS THINKING?

Alright, my aunt Sarah has a sweet idea for a movie which I'd like to make. Basically, late one night, out on the prarie, Paul Bunyan wakes up. He looks around, stands up, walks quietly across the sleeping town, smashes Kohls to the ground, and walks back to his chair. Oh, and maybe he uses the water tower as a toilet on the way back.

Sarah sees some deep symbolism in how Paul (and the lumberjacks he symbolizes) cut down trees and led civilization's march to push out nature, but now Paul is the one who has been removed, cast aside by the soulless bastards at Kohls. I see a chance for a towering Paul to tiptoe across town, smash a sweet model of Kohls (ideally built out of plaster, with some walls stronger than others so they smash at different rates [ala Godzilla]) with an axe, then stomp on back.

Has anyone ever noticed the chilling similarities between our own Paul Bunyan and that creepy Burger King mascot?

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What Time Is It?

So my birthday is coming up (Feb 25th; Mark your calendar!), and this of course means I must once more shoulder the terrible burden of deciding what I want others to buy for me. I can assure you a team of scientists is working on this condundrum as we speak, but I'd like to call your attention to one item in particular.

Observe this watch. To all outward appearances, it is a mild mannered wristwatch, faithfully ticking away the seconds between all the boring events in your life.
BUT, at the mere push of a button, this seemingly innocuous gadget is transformed into a 4 ounce party-starting machine.Now, before you get too excited, I must warn you: as far as I can tell, this item does not exist...yet. A thorough search of the entire Inter-webbing of cyberspace revealed no such artifact in the history of the world. Even so, I have hope that one day we will overcome myriad technological and moral hurldes in our path and produce this ungodly marvel of technology.

Ideally, this day will come in the next three weeks or so.

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Forgive Him Father, He Knows Not What He Blogs

Scholarship update:

Okay dudes, these are pretty much all in the bag.

Duck Tape Prom Outfits
Requirements: Make your own prom outfits out of duct tape
Award: Varies
Bottom Line: Easy. We're gonna pull up in a damn duct tape limo, burning duct tape fuel and passing out duct tape hundred dollar bills.

The Ayn Rand Institute Atlas Shrugged Scholarship
Requirements: Be a huge asshole (I assume)
Award: Lotsa cash
Bottom Line: I figure I just gotta be a huge know-it-all asshole and this one should be locked up. In other words, this one is locked up.

Tall Teen Scholarship
Requirements: Be 6'2'' (for boys)
Award: $500
Bottom Line: No problem. I'll just wear some lift shoes to the interview. Fuck man, I'll probably pull down the Little People of America cash too. Screw you, the vertically challenged!

Writers of the Future/ Illustrators of the Future
Requirements: Works of prose up to 17,000 words in length/ Open to amateur artists
Award: $1000/$1500
Bottom Line: I've just gotta send in the illustrated manuscript for The Most Popular Boy In The World: The Sam Walker Story and these prizes are as good as gotten.

American Welding Society District Scholarship
Requirements: HS student pursuing a career in welding
Award: Varies
Bottom Line: Man everybody knows I could weld a space station to a submarine. I think I can push through an art history/welding double major at most major universities, yes? Yes.

United States Bowling Congress/Calgon/Catholic Aid Association
Requirements: USBC member/female HS senior/CAA member
Award: Plenty
Bottom Line: 300 game/sex change (or possibly elaborate ruse)/conversion (or possibly even MORE elaborate ruse) and I should be in like Flint.

Lowell Elementary School
Requirements: Lowell grad
Award: $150
Bottom Line: Man, can you name one other exemplary student to come out of Lowell? Didn't think so.

And the coup de grace...

National Wild Turkey Federation
Requirements: HS Seniors who have at least a 3.0 GPA, students must support the preservation of the hunting tradition and actively participate in hunting sports, hunting license required, must be a current member of the National Wild Turkey Federation Xtreme JAKES program. Must be involved in school activities, must be a leader, must have community involvement, essay, 3 reccomendations and autobiography must b included.
Award: $250 local, $1000 state, $10,000 national
Bottom Line: I'm bound to have tons of competition here (I mean c'mon, name one person you know who isn't a member of the Xtreme JAKES program), but I figure if I can kill the biggest turkey, there's no way the Federation can turn me down.

The 9:50 Smokin' Aces
a cup and a half of coffee
one plate onion rings and two and a half chicken tenders
the Power Loon
Half a tank of gas
It's dark outside, and you're wearing sunglasses
an excellent driving experience


Thursday, February 01, 2007

and then it hit me.

i don't think i want to do speech this year.

at all.

it's just not fun anymore.

with that in mind, a man named mr. melby officially announced his retirement.


Just Slide With It

Big news: Apparently the good people over at Aqua Teen Hunger Force initiated a guerilla marketing campaign (nice co-opting of the term "guerilla" by a massive corporation) involving a bunch of light-up LED ads of the Mooninites (see below) posted on the streets of cities throughout the country. No one complained about them for three weeks. But in Boston someone decided they were bombs, and bomb-squads were scrambled, bridges were shut down, and boat traffic was halted as bomb experts spent several hours blowing up these ads.

Many Boston government officials are outraged. I have a feeling that they're mostly pissed off at themselves for being such dumbasses about the whole thing.
"It had a very sinister appearance," Massachusetts Attorney General Martha Coakley told reporters. "It had a battery behind it, and wires."

Boston Police Commissioner Edward Davis called it "unconscionable" that the marketing campaign was executed in a post 9/11 era.

But of course, no one mentioned that none of the other cities involved in the campaign felt the need to stop all traffic and destroy a bunch of nite-brite displays of cartoon characters giving the finger.I can understand being pissed off. But check this out:
Rep. Ed Markey, a Boston-area congressman, said, "Whoever thought this up needs to find another job."

What's ol' Ed Markey thinkin? Any advertiser who gets your company up on all the national news is the best in the biz. I mean I wasn't all that interested in the new season of Aqua Teen, but now I'll probably watch a few just to see the adult swim guys make fun of Boston.

Here's a video put together by the hipster smart-asses responsible for the mayhem.


So I have a big series of nostalgic posts planned relating to the variety of Sega Genesis games I rented in my more innocent years. I'm thinking maybe they could be kind of a seperate category, referenced in the sidebar, ala the Coach's music posts. Do you suppose this sort of thing would be more appropriate for superblog or the Manly Mustaches? I'm leaning towards Manly Mustaches right now, but what do ya'll think?

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This Is Joyous News

I apologize in advance for the length of this post, but blog downtime has led to a slight buildup of waxy, blog-like residue. Please excuse some excess volume in the next couple of days.

Two things:

1. Thanks to the efforts of one Tom Day, esquire, the Mustache Blog is up and running. Apparently thanks to the vagaries of the new blogger switch (and the fact that this blog's creator was sort of, um, ousted due to curmedgeonly old man behavior), the blog only switched when the last contributor did, and that last switcher, Tom Day in this case, becomes the new "owner."

So if Tom's the owner, I guess Kurt can be the GM.,Kubas will be head coach, and I'll be the prima donna athlete. Bundy can be....Vice President in Charge Of Blogging Affairs.
Or maybe the Bus Driver.

2. As you all know by now (despite my best efforts, as I am a very modest person), I'm pretty sure I get to give a speech at graduation (although when I asked him about it today, Mr. Heise waffled like a regular Slick Willy, or Slick Eric, as the case may be)

Finally, a chance to make some sort of impact on this Dullsville of a ceremony.

Now we all know that whatever I'll do, I'll immediately regret it afterwards as either too wild or too tame. That said, there's no reason I shouldn't start worrying about it now, right? On a related note, I guess I'll just start every sentence in this paragraph with a dependent clause, okay?

The way I see it, I have three basic options:

1. Straight grad speech.

Our class was special, we'll miss these great teachers, this is only the beginning, blah blah blah.
Right now, I'm thinking this is just not an option. No doubt Logan will put together a world class page-and-a-half of the usual rigamarole, and hopefully deliver it with great gusto (he is a terribly DRAMAtic perosn after all), and nobody needs to hear more than 8 minutes of this in one 24 hour period.

Possible caveat: I could just do my sister's speech word for word. That'd be funny to about 6 or 7 people at the ceremony (who's planning on going, by the way?), making it, by this standard at least, terribly funny.

2. The JFK speech I mentioned earlier this year.

Pro: It would be really funny if I could pull it off, i.e. get it approved and actually orate it in a fashion fitting its majesty.

Con: It's really long, and kinda weird, and I'd probably crack up and break the atmosphere, and I don't think I could do it justice without a lot of practice, which I'm hoping to avoid. I mean, I'd have to study fuckin' game tape of JFK delivering this thing for weeks to do it right.

3. Something completely different.

A poetry reading? A single haiku? 1 minute of silence? A number from the Music Man? Juggling? Trumpet accompaniment from Andrew Kubas? Andrew Kubas as a guest speaker? The Gettysburg Address? A beach ball distribution phase? An enemies list? Sunscreen? A snare drum to keep the beat? A boombox with God Bless The USA playing? The very first mustache post?

One constant: I definitely want to get the phrase "Hitch your wagon the stars" in there, and I need to open with "As I look on this sea of smiling faces..."

Now then, pardon me while I think myself into a corner:
Who am I writing this for? For myself? Then maybe I should just write the traditional, stuffy, long-winded speech, outline my philosophy and spout some encouraging aphorisms, shake heise's hand, and go back to my seat. I mean, I assume such a speech would be for me. I'm not doing anybody else any favors with this, except perhaps the staunch traditionalists in the crowd (with their steel gray hair and huffy demeanors). On the other hand, what I really want to do is please the crowd and break up the potential bore-fest. Or do I just want more attention for myself?

This is all very complicated. Thoughts?

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