I'm All Man, Lady!

A good friend once told me that everybody has a superpower. As I have never taken classes at the Xavier Mansion, retreated to a Fortress of Solitude nor slung webs in New York City, I was hesitant to believe him. Recent events, however, have stirred within me the desire to construct a costume and secret identity for myself.

Quite simply, I have the power to cause people near me to make out with each other.

Before you all start commenting on how f-in' awesome that is, consider the following shortcomings of this gift.

1. It has not influenced others to lock lips with me.
2. It causes my bar patrons to wear out their welcome as they fondle each other well past last call.
3. It has not yet been successful in influencing girl-on-girl action.

I simply must learn to control this power. Only by harnessing my raw sexual energy can I ever hope to save the cheerleader . . . and also the world.

Course of Life

I've decided it's time to update my résumé. One simple change will move my CV [that's curriculum vitae for you non-Brits] from the "No Way in Hell" pile to the "Give This Guy the Company" pile. Under special skills, I have added three simple words.

Raw. Sexual. Energy.

I even added the periods to the skills list, as they provide a much needed sense of emphasis to an otherwise boring résumé.

I figure this phrase will come in handy in non-résumé-requesting job interviews as well.

• Interviewer: "What three words would you use to describe yourself?"
• Me: "Raw. Sexual. Energy."

I'll be sure to use an upcoming craft day to create a shirt with the aforementioned phrase emblazoned on the front.

C+C Music Factory

Let's play a little game I like to call, "Guess the Celebrity!"

The rules are simple. By looking to the right at my drawing, all you have to do is [as the title implies] guess the celebrity.

Ready? Set? Go.

I'm No Superman

As a [self-proclaimed] great writer, I often have millions of blog ideas floating around my head at once. Instead of boring you all with a post for each of these thoughts, I'll just summarize them in a list entitled, "Things I Heart at the Moment."

• the Minnesota Twins - If it were biologically possible, I would bear the children of each and every member of this team . . . at the same time.
• Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip - I missed Matthew Perry.
• sweatpants - They're not just for depressed fat people anymore.
• the impending season of Lost - I wish someone would erect [tee-hee] a giant four-toed statue in my honor.
  
• wool socks - They're like sweaters for my feet.
• Scrubs in syndication - I often narrate my own life as well. Random strangers do not appreciate this.
  
• making bulleted lists - They look so professional and PowerPoint-esque.

I would have included parallelism in that list, but the humor of its addition would have been a tad dry . . . even for my taste.

UMass Gymnastics Championship

Yes, I actually showed up to an airing of the "Today" show with a sign in hand that read, "And Then I Met Al Roker."

Unfortunately, that morning only one girl woke up next to me . . . and it was my sister.

Does In?

Has it really been 12 days since my last post? As I really have no excuse for such a ridiculously long absence (besides drinking myself stupid on Shipyard Pumpkinhead Ale), I'll make some up instead.

• I was busy eating one egg a day until the carton was empty.
• I was writing biographies of each of the actors portraying the 12 jurors in 1957's 12 Angry Men.
• I was playing "What's Your Sign Bingo." Each night was dedicated to meeting somebody at the bar with a different Zodiac sign.
• I was keeping tally of the primates in 12 Monkeys.
• I was reenacting the labors of Heracles.
• I was trying to figure out who the twelfth was in Ocean's Twelve.

For those of you readers who were loyal enough to go on a hunger strike until I posted again [I'm looking at you, Nicole Richie], enjoy your dinner tonight.

You Look So . . . Right . . .

Continuing my award-winning "Signs of the Times" series, I present this doozy, which was found outside a store in New York City.

Following in this company's "let's make outlandish claims and hope they're true" footsteps, I will now propose the following.

• I'm probably the coolest person ever.
• My blog is probably the most read on the Internet.
• Women probably want me, and men probably want to be me.
  

It's nice to see that mom and pop stores are still putting forth that extra effort needed to overtake the corporate monolith.

Text Speak for London

As Labor Day has come and gone, it's safe to say that the good times are over. Summer has ended, and the only thing left to do to ring in the autumn months is to name "The Feel Good Song of the Summer." The rules are simple.

1. The song should make you feel good.
2. It should probably have been released on the radio sometime during the past summer.
   
3. Random bubblegum pop songs from random artists generally beat out songs from mainstream performers.

The 2006 recipient of this award will join the prestigious ranks of the following songs.

• 2003 - "Move Your Feet" by Junior Senior
• 2004 - [no award given]
• 2005 - "Haven't Found" by Pras

As decided by me, "The 2006 Feel Good Song of the Summer" is none other than "LDN" by Lily Allen. Sadly, this song is an import from across the pond [i.e., the UK], so many of you have probably not heard it played. Thus, this year I will also present the stateside award to Christina Aguilera's "Ain't No Other Man."

Ms. Allen and Ms. Aguilera, as this is a live program, you will be required to limit your acceptance speeches to two minutes.

Fishing in Repulsion

It's about that time.

"What time?" you ask.

"Time to coin a new phrase," I reply.

Although the grammatical community is still reeling in disgust from my previous contributions to the English language, I feel the need to throw another one in their general direction. Consider the following.

"Holy Lord. When slash if you come out to visit, open a new credit card because there is crazy shopping here."

That text message was sent by me on Monday, August 14, 2006 at 6:27 pm. Mark that on your calendars as the date and time when I coined the typing of "slash" instead of "/" when texting somebody. It will soon become all the rage in Milan.

Mr. President

Well, folks, it's been exactly one year since I started this li'l ole blog, so I figured some sort of birthday celebration was in order. What better way to fuel my ego than to bask in the glory of my ten favorite finger exercises. I do enjoy a top ten list that is pretty much a salute to myself. So, without any further ado, I present "My Top 10 Favorite Blog Postings of the Last Year."

10. Underneath My Blood Is Blue -- I truly have some ridiculous life goals.
9. A Cup Might Prevent That -- The raving reviews still crack me up.
8. It's Just Me out There -- Robert Goulet impressions will never not be funny.
7. A Me Sandwich -- Maybe I should email this to the "Today" show.
6. Can I Be Your Ice King? -- She's gorgeous.
5. Hometown Travel Agency -- I love/miss the college days of yore.
4. And Now It's Copyrighted to Me -- Coining the phrase "I heart" is my greatest gift to mankind.
3. Be Still Mon Coeur -- To use my own coined phrase, I heart this commercial.
2. Mr. Wheelchair Crackhead of Hennepin Avenue -- I only wish I had an actual picture of a wheelchair crackhead of Hennepin Avenue.
1. And Also in Space -- "The Jesus Bandwagon" is the greatest picture I have ever created.

Here's to many more years of you loyal blog visitors reading my incoherent ramblings that should probably never have been allowed to be published.

Head in a Vice

This past weekend I hit up the casino for the first time in years. Given my lack of gambling experience, I consider it a great feat that I came out with 67% more money than when I entered.

If my chemistry degree has taught me anything, it's that you can never have enough useless charts and graphs to illustrate your point. Thus, I present a bar graph of this monumental money increase.

Notice the staggering amount by which the "Final" column eclipses the "Initial" column. It's truly mind-boggling.

Of course, all this actually means is that I put 75¢ in a slot machine and got $1.25 back. After that I stopped gambling.

Rhapsody in Blue

Today, the bar at which I work smelled like an airplane cabin.

After much deliberation, I decided that an airplane's distinct odor is the combination of the glorious smell of coffee and the hideous stench of a nursing home. It's nice to see the two scents of such polar opposites -- one seeks to keep you awake during your busy life, while the other seeks to calm you during your march towards impending death -- living together so harmoniously.

Makin' the Rockin' World go 'Round

Over the past couple days, I have felt like an unnecessary amalgam of two of my most hated people in the world -- the obese and the elderly. Seriously, all that I've accomplished is sweating and farting.

I suppose that if I had wanted to further embody these two worthless types of people I could have taken up more than one seat on the bus and then ambled at an ungodly slow pace through Target while attempting to pay for adult diapers with exact change that is buried at the bottom of a purse the size of a horse's feedbag.

That may have been the longest sentence I've ever written.

Will Robinson

I'm thinking of getting boxers with this sign screenprinted on the backside. Only toilet paper would be given the required permit.

I would also think that, given the chance, this sign could become the best prison tattoo ever -- especially since tattoos don't wash off in the shower.

And Also in Space

Are you a Jew who feels left out around Christmastime? Are you slightly embarrassed by the un-chic nature of wearing a yarmulke? Do you feel the need to jump on the Jesus bandwagon?

Then come on down to Jews for Jesus! We have everything the modern Jew needs to support his or her favorite Christian savior! Whether or not your ancestors may or may not have been responsible for his death, Jesus still loves you!

In all seriousness, this is an actual sign outside an actual building that is an actual two blocks from my actual house. I have no idea what they do, but I'm considering changing the name of my blog to Christians for Krishna, Atheists for Allah or Zoroastrians for Zeus.

. . . in July

While generally considered a Crosby/Kaye/Clooney/Ellen vehicle, White Christmas owes its phenomenal success to one person and one person alone -- Anne Whitfield, the actress who played Susan Waverly.

Let us bask in the glory of all her immortal lines from this classic film.

1. Okay, Mr. Wallace. This way.
2. This will bring business in, Grandpa.
3. Here's the laundry, Emma.
4. All right.
5. Excuse me, Judy. It's for you from Betty. She gave it to Grandpa at the station.
6. Hello. Oh yes.
7. Oh, Grandpa, the battery's dead on the Jeep. It's stuck out . . .
8. Why can't you wear your uniform? Please, Gramps.
9. I hope he comes down, that would be awful if he wouldn't.
10. Grandpa, you look wonderful.
11. No.

Try using them in everyday conversation. My personal favorite is #2, which can be used whenever you see something amazing.

Maybe this Susan Waverly quoting frenzy has already begun, though, because I often hear girls say #11 to me at bars. I'll have to remind them that #4 and #6 are also viable lines to speak.

Mr. Wheelchair Crackhead of Hennepin Avenue

Despite the world-renowned status of my blog, I've not yet let the fame go to my head. I still enjoy perusing reader-posted comments . . . or fan mail, as I like to call it. Thus, given this piece of constructive criticism, I have decided to appease my raving fans by giving them what they want.

Therefore, without further ado, I present a Bud Light salute to wheelchair crackheads of Hennepin Avenue.

Bud Light presents, "Real Men of Genius."
"Real Men of Genius."
Today we salute you, Mr. Wheelchair Crackhead of Hennepin Avenue.
Mr. Wheelchair Crackhead of Hennepin Avenue.
Although you're in a wheelchair, you haven't given up on your legs yet by still letting them drag on the ground as you roll along.
Those boots were made for dragging.
Laughing in the face of danger, you rebelliously ride with your footrests in their improper position.
A modern day James Dean.
You've given up on reaching for the stars and instead keep both feet semi-firmly planted on the ground.
Your life is hopeless.
While others wince at the friction-filled contact between the asphalt and your shoes, you merely smile a mostly-toothless grin and think, "Damn. That's some good crack."
It's a helluva drug.
So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light, you waste of taxpayers' money, because you're too good for malt liquor.
Mr. Wheelchair Crackhead of Hennepin Avenue.
Bud Light Beer. Anheuser-Busch. St. Louis, Missouri.

Stay tuned [but not really] for an upcoming salute to Mr. Ridiculously Useless Blog Maker.

Co-Starring in Return to Oz

I bet being in a wheelchair really saves people a lot of money in the shoe budget.

Although, if you're one of those handicapables who drags his or her feet on the ground while rolling [I'm looking at you, wheelchair crackheads of Hennepin Avenue], you would probably find the reverse to be true.

His Luggage Combination

Veronica Wellington celebrated a milestone earlier this week. Her odometer reached the glorious mileage of 123,456.

I threw her a party complete with topless convertibles, cars with junk in their trunks and a few hot foreign models. All in all, it was a huge success.

Not only that, but I also finally learned how to count to six. My previous record was five, which I had learned from watching Spaceballs.

Secondary Characteristic

While browsing pictures on the Facebook the other day, I came to a realization. College boobs now are a lot bigger than college boobs when I went to school. As cleavage is my Kryptonite, I was powerless to stop the further research that would need to be done.

I'd like to quote Joey and say, "Man, there is a lot of porn out there!" Seriously, if you ever have several free hours, just Google "huge college boobs."

My search for the answer to the enlarged bosom question proved fruitless, though. I guess I'll just have to hit up the bars and start interviewing busty coeds.

Well, I Hope [He] Will Remember

If I were ever to open my own bar, it would be named "The Free World." The reasons are twofold . . . just like a wallet I used to have.

1. I would be the leader of "The Free World."
2. When a DJ stopped by to spin his fly tunes, everybody would be rockin' in "The Free World."

I just hope Neil Young doesn't charge me any royalties. Maybe I could use my "I heart" winnings to pay him off.

Liquor is Quicker

We found this little sign at the checkout lane of a grocery store. Apparently you can pay from your checking account with just the touch of a finger instead of swiping your check card.

And here I thought it was a clever slogan for a junior high "alternatives to sex" campaign.

Maybe John Belushi Was onto Something

New studies have found that eating 4 large pizzas and drinking 17 beers and 4 cups of coffee ward off both prostate cancer and cirrhosis of the liver.

I know that sounds like the setup to a joke where the punch line would be contained within this sentence, but it's actually true.

I suppose, though, that once the health benefits of smoking cigarettes and having couches on your front yard are determined, frat boys might actually become disease free.

Narrowly Eclipsing Talking like a Pirate

Synchronized dance is the coolest thing a person can do.

Watch High School Musical or pretty much any classic Michael Jackson video if you don't believe me.

Wicked Pissa

I'd like to take this moment to quote the lyrics to my new favorite song.

"I think I'll go to Boston."

Lightning Has Struck My Brain

So I was out golfing the other weekend, and I had one of those enlightening experiences that are generally reserved for alcoholics.

(Contrary to popular belief, I have not yet become one.)

It was a particularly gusty day out on the links, and we were getting blown silly [no, not that way] in the golf cart. So Kevin says, "Let's put up the windshield." Only he spoke the final word with a pause in the middle, so it came out, "wind shield." Then came my epiphany.

A windshield shields you from the wind.

It's not like I had been going through life confused on its definition, I had just never thought about it nor heard it spoken in such a distinct manner before. The same thing happened with Best Buy awhile ago. Due to its low-price guarantee, it's the best buy you can get.

Apparently I missed the day in third grade when we learned about compound words.

Be Still Mon Coeur

I know that I promised the return of a certain Bob and his reduced-price daycare center, but this video will have to suffice for now. I consider it the pinnacle of advertising during the 2002 Winter Olympics.


Although it came out years before my obsession began, I like to imagine myself as the Coca-Cola-toting underdog and Sasha Cohen as the girl-next-door figure skater.

It's too bad that I don't drink soda, and she's not French.

Davenports and Cowboys

Slip covers on couches are like gauchos on fat girls.

The fabric always seems to get lost in more cracks than you thought possible.

Hometown Travel Agency

As a special bonus to my [6 or so] loyal readers, I present to you a classic video from the days of yore at UMass.


I've also included the following list of things to notice while watching. Pretend my soothing voice is reading them aloud as though you were listening to some sort of high-tech audio commentary.

• Cordless phones [especially those not plugged into anything] do not sound like that.
• The opening monologue scene took like half an hour to record due to Ethan and Darren laughing in the background.
• The basketball hoop is attached to the wall using athletic tape.
• In the lower left of the basketball scene is the corner of a sign that looks oddly familiar to one that may have once been hanging at Boyden. That's peculiar.
  
• I wonder where that ECAC-looking banner came from.
  
• Ethan was actually standing in the shower fully clothed while Brett flushed the toilet.
• Ethan claimed he had no idea I was filming while he was stroking his putter.
• There's no way the golf ball is initially headed in the right direction. Thank God for movie magic.
• We purposefully rearranged the objects on the desk to enhance the video's low-budget nature.
  
• Am I wearing any pants?

Stay tuned for future weeks when we tackle such difficult topics as a certain gymnast-turned-cheerleader's sexuality and where not to send your children for daycare.

Will He Get a Gold Watch?

Despite two years of effort to get my "I Heart Hoiberg" campaign off the ground, it was all for naught. Everybody's favorite three-point shooting white boy Fred Hoiberg announced his retirement earlier this week.

Single tear.

I might try to hire him to shoot three-pointers in my driveway for my own personal enjoyment.

As Long as It Was Empty First

Even though I went to all three of my classes today, the most important thing I learned happened off campus.

If you remove the thick bottom from a shot glass, a garbage disposal can and will destroy it.

Also Known as Ocho

It appears that Veronica Wellington (my VW Jetta) has a new love interest. His name is Herbie. She found him in the Seven Corners Municipal Parking Ramp, and it was love at first sight.

They have planned a June wedding and will probably expect their first litter of toy cars in the near future. Lord knows Veronica has the necessary birthing hips.

Way Better than Aunt Jemima

As a child, I remember being quite attracted to the Sun-Maid girl. Looking back, I realize what good taste I had. Her updated commercials make her even hotter.

It's too bad that the original Sun-Maid girl is probably now as wrinkly as the raisins that she peddles.

It'll Change Your Life. I Swear.

Sometimes I hang out in waiting rooms of doctors' offices in New Jersey with the hopes of meeting Natalie Portman.

Other times I do it just to have my leg humped by a seeing eye dog.

Underneath, My Blood Is Blue

"Legendary song-and-dance man Justin Hammar tragically passed away last night in his private residence."

When (or if . . . maybe when those aliens from Cocoon come back, they'll let us all board their ship) I die, I hope my obituary reads something like the first sentence in this post. Actually, all I care about is the "song-and-dance man" part. I'm not quite sure how one becomes one of those, but I'd sure like to know.

Maybe I could email song-and-dance man Dick Van Dyke. That description pretty much never leaves the front of his name.

Seriously, try Googling "dick van dyke song-and-dance man."

Perhaps he could give me some pointers. Maybe he's already ghostwritten written a book entitled Becoming a Song-and-Dance Man for Dummies.


If he has, that makes two Amazon purchases necessary for my quest.

Doesn't "couple" imply only two people?

No Relation to Dale

I would totally buy a house from this guy.

Although the ad appeared in The Onion, it is totally legit. He certainly knows his audience.

Lord knows if I were ever to buy a house, the comfort level of lying down in the bathroom would certainly weigh heavily in my decision.

Can I Be Your Ice King?

I would totally take up figure skating if it meant I could get closer to Sasha Cohen.

We're a perfect match. Consider the following.

• She loves the Harry Potter books; I love the Harry Potter books.
• She loves lobster; I have a giftcard to Red Lobster in my wallet.
• She loves Justin Timberlake; I share a first name with Justin Timberlake.
• She loves "Sex and the City"; I love sex and the city.

We're practically soulmates.

8 BC?

I should tell you that you'll see there's no day but today 4 u to add to what you own. Don't wait another day! Halloween is much too late. Santa Fe is much too far. Go out tonight and let your eyes show you the way. If you need some extra cash, I'll cover you. Will I care if you take me or leave me at home? Maybe. It's always lonely without you. Who would be here to light my candle? Long live the Bohemian life.

In case you couldn't tell, I'm slightly excited for today's release of RENT on DVD.

The More You Know

You all want to try something cool?

(Hmm . . . how many after school specials have that line in the script?)

Anyway, eat some Gardetto's and then an Andes mint. Then burp. It tastes like pure happiness.

I consider this my most serendipidous discovery yet. I wonder if I could make a living sitting around all day eating two completely unrelated foods and then burping.

I can see my job title now -- "Senior Weird Food Eater and Subsequent Belcher."

The Cause of -- and Solution to -- All of Life's Problems

After a week and a half hiatus, I figured it was time to get back on track with this whole blogging thing. It's too bad the goal of the latest addition to our house is to steer people off track.

Say, "hello," (no seriously, say it) to our new roommate -- the kegerator.

It's so beautiful in all its alcohol-dispensing glory. If I ever have children, I hope they look and act just like the kegerator.

Let's consider the following:

• We have a foosball table.
• We have a dartboard.
• We have a poker table.
  
• We can have pizza delivered.
• We can drink draught (pronounced draft) beer at home. (FYI: Unlike bottled and canned beer, keg beer has not been pasteurized. Thus, since pasteurization changes the flavor of beer, keg beer maintains the brewer's original taste intention.)

If we could find a liquor store that delivered kegs (and vulnerable, young women) to our door, we would never again have a reason to leave our house.

And yes, (even though it's not even 2 o'clock yet) I'm drinking a beer while writing this. I feel it gives a certain authenticity to the post.

Bordering on Complete White Trash

That's right, folks. With just four cinder blocks, a few towels, a little ingenuity and a blatant disregard for eye-pleasing interior design, you, too, can have stadium-style seating in your living room just in time for Super Bowl XLI.

And Now It's Copyrighted to Me

I coined the phrase, "I heart . . . "

With this post, I'm attempting to set the record straight. I realize it's been around forever (actually, since 1977) in the form of the "I ♥ NY" shirts, but the intent there was for it to be read, "I Love New York." I consider myself to be the first person to pronounce the heart symbol as "heart" rather than "love."

While I've not yet submitted my theory to Wikipedia's "I ♥" page, I'm sure that in due time I will be celebrated for my amazing gift to modern grammar.

Two Posts in One Day?

Speaking of beer goggles, Ask Yahoo! has attempted to clear up the myth in this little article.

Since my standards are impossibly high when I'm sober, maybe it's a good thing I'm an alcoholic. Otherwise, I would probably die miserable and alone. Now I'll die happy and with cirrhosis of the liver.

Like Coke Bottle Glasses

On Christmas night, after all the presents had been opened and food had been eaten, we decided to do what all other normal people do . . . drink ourselves mentally challenged (I think that's PC for retarded). I remember the majority of the evening, so we couldn't have been that bad off. In any case, I remember looking in the mirror at the bar and thinking, "Damn! I look good!"

Apparently I had beer goggles for myself because pictures of me from that night proved otherwise. Maybe that's why I was disgusted with myself in the morning for having shared a bed with myself that night.

A Baker's Dozen Minus One

Now that 24 is under way, let me present you all with a "Top However-Many-Reasons-I-Come-Up-With Why This Season Will Rock . . . In No Particular Order Save for the Final Two."

1. President Logan is a Grade-A (or whatever scale feminine hygiene products use) douchebag.
2. The Russians vill shtop (actually, I think that's a German accent) at nothing due to their always being drunk on vodka.
3. Curtis Manning is almost half the man Jack is . . . and that's saying a lot.
4. The Chinese probably still have a part to play in whatever's going on . . . and they have ninjas on their side.
5. Nerve gas?!? That stuff is so dangerous, I don't even actually know what it does.
6. Freakin' Rudy is running CTU.
7. We've not had a catfight over Jack since Season 1, and that did not turn out very well.
8. Martha Logan's aide is quite the looker. Hell, Martha Logan ain't half bad herself.
9. Even as a common blue collar worker, Jack is still a badass . . . which brings us to number 10 . . .
10. Simply, Jack Bauer

Had I been going for the gold, I would have thought of twenty-four reasons. I decided instead to stop at the culturally accepted list length of ten.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Restating the Obvious

I stumbled upon The Tulse Luper Journey tonight, but I'm still not completely sure what it is. My knowledge of it boils down to the following:

• It's an online game.
• It's entirely free.
  
• It follows the journey of Tulse Luper.

That's about all I've got. This site explains the concept a little better than I have feebly attempted to do.

Hell, the game kept me awake an hour or so past my bedtime, so it can't be half bad.

Little Gold?

Although the bag has the word "taco" imprinted upon it, Doritos do not count as dinner.

I'm sure the same holds true for those pizza-flavored Combos.

Mobile Homes

Somebody really dropped the ball with the previews shown on the recently released Wedding Crashers DVD (awesome movie, by the way). Let's recap the two most glaring trailer problems, shall we?

• The New World - The end of this trailer speaks of it opening in 2005. Wedding Crashers was released on DVD in the beginning of 2006. Looks like somebody's a little late, huh? In fact, The New World had a limited theatrical release a full eight days before the Wedding Crashers DVD was released.
• Kitchen Confidential - This critically acclaimed FOX television show was cancelled a month before Wedding Crashers debuted on DVD. The website that the trailer promotes (fox.com/kitchen) does not even exist anymore.

Well played, New Line promotion people. The next time they produce a DVD, maybe they should keep in the mind the immortal words of Chazz Reingold: "Grief is nature's most powerful aphrodisiac."

Apropos for a Party that's Also a Crime

Happy New Year!

I'd like to imagine that, given the far-reaching amazingness of the Internet, the previous exclamation would find its way onto the computer screens of millions. In reality, only my three to four semi-loyal readers will receive it. Maybe I need to initiate some sort of grassroots campaign to publicize this worthless blog. I could . . .

• rent a billboard on a major freeway
• wear a sandwich board around the streets of Minneapolis
• ride a skateboard whilst (what a good word) screaming legfry52.blogspot.com
• speak to the Chairman of the Board of a major corporation (not sure if that would help, but I wanted to continue the whole "board" thing)

In honor of the New Year, I would also like to submit this picture which more or less epitomizes the events leading up to the ringing in of 2006. Some things to note are . . .

• the lack of proper focus -- symbolizing our blurred vision
• the improper framing -- symbolizing our "crossing the line" far too many times
• the ginormous (sp?) smiles -- symbolizing our happiness with alcohol
  
• the squinty eyes -- symbolizing our reflex to the radiance of our party

I was going to use this space to write a collection of resolutions, but three bulleted lists in one posting is both boring and preposterous.