Dear Frank:
Sorry I didn't come home last night to sleep next to you. You seemed a little upset with me this morning all whining and yelling at me and whatnot. I was not there to protect you from Polly, but you're still alive and that's all that matters. You can easily outrun her, as she is over 100 pounds and you are only 9. In most cases, she'd get up to run after you, see the Twinkies box, and forget about you, so don't worry. (Thanks, Jared!)
Just like that time when we first came here - you were lying on the fireplace minding your own business, she looked at you, got up and started barking. With the time it takes her to get up, you've already run off and found your hiding spot, so I don't think there's much for you to worry about.
So yeah; sorry. And I don't want any guilt trips about this incident. I heard you slept by mom under the dining room table and all went well, so at least I know you weren't alone. You such a playa. Don't play me though, because remember: I have opposable thumbs, and you don't. This means I don't have to open bags of Cat Chow with my teeth. I can open cans. I can provide you with fresh water. You can get fresh water on your own of course, but what if somebody left the toilet seat lid down? You don't have thumbs and are rather short, therefore incapable of lifting the lid up in a manner that would make it stay up so you can drink.
Once again, next time you try to lay the guilt on me, remember who has the thumbs in this relationship.
Sorry again for leaving you alone, lil' buddy!
Sincerely,
Micycle
----------------------------------------------------
I will now send this message through an English to Cat translator so Frank can read it:
Reeeow... mmmmrah?
Mow wow mbbbbrah? Eh. Aaaayyyyyaah! Mowrrrrow...? Eh, eh. Pdddddddrdrdrdrdrdr. Reeeeeeeeeeeuw! Eh? R-rrrow.
Row,
Micycle
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Monday, July 11, 2005
Any readers from the Chicago area out there?
Email me if you'd be so kind... I've some questions for you!
Saturday, July 9, 2005
A Full Moon at 9am
It's not very often that one gets to wake up to a full moon at 9am on a Saturday morning, but such was the case for yours truly a few hours ago. It was quite the sight - a diamond in the rough that has been the past 3 weeks, indeed.
I have to put a barrier of shit at the door in the room I'm staying in at my parent's house, otherwise my cat Frank scratches at the door for hours on end trying to get out so's he can mosey about the rest of the house. As a protective measure from the family dog Polly, I keep him in with me at night so she doesn't mistake him for a bunny and try to "peel" him, as my Aunt Cookie so aptly puts it. We gots bunnies out in the yard that Polly will capture and "peel" if she actually manages to nab one. We know this because Dad occasionally finds inanimate bunnies out in the yard that Polly has altered by removing most of their fur and skin. Can't figure out why she doesn't eat the bunny cadaver once she gets the skin off, as that's kind of like peeling a potato and then throwing it away. I'm starting to think that she's some sort of sicko, doing it for the thrill of letting all other bunnies know that they best not be f*&king with her lest they want to be skinned Ed Gein style. Regardless, Frank is small and possesses bunny-like markings, and I'd hate for Polly to mistake him for one.
So ANYHOO. This morning at approximately 8:30am, I heard a rustling at the door. Assuming it was Frank attempting to exscape as he so often does, I put a pillow over my head and ignored it and started dozing off again. The rustling grew progressively more intense. Really intense. Sheesh, says I in my head, he really wants out of here. After about 30 seconds of rather intense door noises, I heard it open and listened to the Frank barrier slowly slide across the floor. seconds later mine eyes opened and right before me 3 feet away stood a full moon, courtesy of my brother Chuck's hilarious buddy Jared. He fancies his bare bum as an alarm clock of sorts when he wakes people up, and trust me - it definitely gets you up and out of bed. 'Cause if you know Jared or have heard the stories, you don't know where that full moon will end up next if you don't move. Imagine if you will a cartoon character from the deep South hopped up on coffee and constantly spewing comedy out of his person, a lot of it blatantly and hilariously inappropriate, and that's Jared in a nutshell. He's like the older younger brother Chuck and I never had.
I have never had his trademark full moon awakening until today, because my brother and his friends live in Cleveland. He and Jared made a 13 hour trek up here to MN yesterday to hang out for a week, not telling my parents to create an element of surprise (which always works.) Even more of a surprise to them this time was that Jared was in tow - they stopped by to see Mom at work and she probably pooped her pants.
Judging from the numerous spontaneous shenanigans that have already taken place in the past few hours, I have already laughed to the point of being short on breath and have a feeling this is going to be a much needed high-octane week.
Look out Twin Cities: we're coming to your area for recreational deployment and we've got Jared. He brought his bowling ball and is ready to hit the town and tear shit up. Consider yourselves warned.
I have to put a barrier of shit at the door in the room I'm staying in at my parent's house, otherwise my cat Frank scratches at the door for hours on end trying to get out so's he can mosey about the rest of the house. As a protective measure from the family dog Polly, I keep him in with me at night so she doesn't mistake him for a bunny and try to "peel" him, as my Aunt Cookie so aptly puts it. We gots bunnies out in the yard that Polly will capture and "peel" if she actually manages to nab one. We know this because Dad occasionally finds inanimate bunnies out in the yard that Polly has altered by removing most of their fur and skin. Can't figure out why she doesn't eat the bunny cadaver once she gets the skin off, as that's kind of like peeling a potato and then throwing it away. I'm starting to think that she's some sort of sicko, doing it for the thrill of letting all other bunnies know that they best not be f*&king with her lest they want to be skinned Ed Gein style. Regardless, Frank is small and possesses bunny-like markings, and I'd hate for Polly to mistake him for one.
So ANYHOO. This morning at approximately 8:30am, I heard a rustling at the door. Assuming it was Frank attempting to exscape as he so often does, I put a pillow over my head and ignored it and started dozing off again. The rustling grew progressively more intense. Really intense. Sheesh, says I in my head, he really wants out of here. After about 30 seconds of rather intense door noises, I heard it open and listened to the Frank barrier slowly slide across the floor. seconds later mine eyes opened and right before me 3 feet away stood a full moon, courtesy of my brother Chuck's hilarious buddy Jared. He fancies his bare bum as an alarm clock of sorts when he wakes people up, and trust me - it definitely gets you up and out of bed. 'Cause if you know Jared or have heard the stories, you don't know where that full moon will end up next if you don't move. Imagine if you will a cartoon character from the deep South hopped up on coffee and constantly spewing comedy out of his person, a lot of it blatantly and hilariously inappropriate, and that's Jared in a nutshell. He's like the older younger brother Chuck and I never had.
I have never had his trademark full moon awakening until today, because my brother and his friends live in Cleveland. He and Jared made a 13 hour trek up here to MN yesterday to hang out for a week, not telling my parents to create an element of surprise (which always works.) Even more of a surprise to them this time was that Jared was in tow - they stopped by to see Mom at work and she probably pooped her pants.
Judging from the numerous spontaneous shenanigans that have already taken place in the past few hours, I have already laughed to the point of being short on breath and have a feeling this is going to be a much needed high-octane week.
Look out Twin Cities: we're coming to your area for recreational deployment and we've got Jared. He brought his bowling ball and is ready to hit the town and tear shit up. Consider yourselves warned.
Friday, July 8, 2005
Apparently, INXS is a cover band.
Have you seen the ads for the latest "reality" programming? CBS' Rockstar: INXS. "INXS is looking for a new singer, and you could be it!"
To refresh your mammaries, INXS shot to fame in the late 80s with a lot of great, sultry, poppy hits that you'd know if you heard. You may recall that in 1997, the key ingredient to the band, singer Michael Hutchence died whilst in the act of improperly executed (literally) auto-erotic asphyxiation. FYI: for those considering trying it out, the proper way of performing this "why isn't the normal way good enough" act involves not killing yourself. What a peculiar thing that must have been to the person who found him dead: walk in and see him hanging there with his schvontz in his hand.
I digress. Back to the TV show:
So in the show, the band is performing an American Idol-type search for a new singer. Sorry INXS 2.0, but Michael Hutchence was your Jim Morrison. Can you imagine The Doors with any other frontman? Doubt it. Same with INXS - sure, the musicians in the band are real hep and groovy and all, but Hutchence was the glue. The voice and the looks that made the ladies (and maybe a few men) hang posters of him on their walls.
INXS 2.0: It would be in your best interest to disband completely right now and maybe start some side projects or get jobs teaching like that weird flute player guy in Men At Work. Quit while you're ahead! Maybe Mike Patton would have worked out when you asked him, but he was too busy at the time and perhaps a bit too genius to be a part of the band anyhow. What sweet irony that would have been if Patton agreed and then made them play "Dead Goon", an old Patton/Mr. Bungle song about... that's right: auto-erotic asphyxiation.
So say you do find a new singer... unless he sounds and looks a lot like Hutchence, it won't sound like INXS. And replacing a singer with an exact replica of the previous one is a no-no anyways. Look at the horrifying mess that KISS has become from this. And has anyone seen the guy singing with Journey these days? Oh-ma-ghad. It's like the dude is a parrot mimicking Steve Perry. Journey sans Steve Perry is like a Big Mac without the bun and meat... just an unsatisfying pile of mushy lettuce, lukewarm pickles and mystery sauce.
The most perplexing thing of all to me in these Rockstar: INXS commercials is that they don't appear to be playing any of their own music. It's all 100% cover tunes - at least in the ads. One would think that when holding "auditions" for your band with some pretty big shoes to fill like this, maybe you should start things off by actually playing your own music unless you're going to start playing weddings (which may not be a bad idea for them at this point.) I'm sure it's the fat guys in suits in the programming department that came up with the brilliant idea of cover tunes. I bet I know exactly what was said in the meeting:
"Yeah, well people probably aren't that familiar with INXS' music. What.. they only had like 5-6 hits way back when, right? It's not interesting enough to lure viewers in. So... let's have them do lame covers that viewers will automatically identify with, know the choruses to, and make them want to watch!"
And I'll bet that once the band was confronted with the cover tune idea, they weren't too fond of it. But the fat guys in suits have money and power, and INXS 2.0 probably thought "Aaah - fuck it! We're getting paid and we need the exposure."
Coming soon to used $2.99 CD bins across the country: INXS 2.0 CDs featuring new singer [insert name here]. You'll find it right behind the 2 dozen Carrie Underwood CDs that people will have bought at Walgreens and sold immediately after suddenly feeling utterly disgusted with themselves.
Screw all of this.. I'm goin' fishin.
To refresh your mammaries, INXS shot to fame in the late 80s with a lot of great, sultry, poppy hits that you'd know if you heard. You may recall that in 1997, the key ingredient to the band, singer Michael Hutchence died whilst in the act of improperly executed (literally) auto-erotic asphyxiation. FYI: for those considering trying it out, the proper way of performing this "why isn't the normal way good enough" act involves not killing yourself. What a peculiar thing that must have been to the person who found him dead: walk in and see him hanging there with his schvontz in his hand.
I digress. Back to the TV show:
So in the show, the band is performing an American Idol-type search for a new singer. Sorry INXS 2.0, but Michael Hutchence was your Jim Morrison. Can you imagine The Doors with any other frontman? Doubt it. Same with INXS - sure, the musicians in the band are real hep and groovy and all, but Hutchence was the glue. The voice and the looks that made the ladies (and maybe a few men) hang posters of him on their walls.
INXS 2.0: It would be in your best interest to disband completely right now and maybe start some side projects or get jobs teaching like that weird flute player guy in Men At Work. Quit while you're ahead! Maybe Mike Patton would have worked out when you asked him, but he was too busy at the time and perhaps a bit too genius to be a part of the band anyhow. What sweet irony that would have been if Patton agreed and then made them play "Dead Goon", an old Patton/Mr. Bungle song about... that's right: auto-erotic asphyxiation.
So say you do find a new singer... unless he sounds and looks a lot like Hutchence, it won't sound like INXS. And replacing a singer with an exact replica of the previous one is a no-no anyways. Look at the horrifying mess that KISS has become from this. And has anyone seen the guy singing with Journey these days? Oh-ma-ghad. It's like the dude is a parrot mimicking Steve Perry. Journey sans Steve Perry is like a Big Mac without the bun and meat... just an unsatisfying pile of mushy lettuce, lukewarm pickles and mystery sauce.
The most perplexing thing of all to me in these Rockstar: INXS commercials is that they don't appear to be playing any of their own music. It's all 100% cover tunes - at least in the ads. One would think that when holding "auditions" for your band with some pretty big shoes to fill like this, maybe you should start things off by actually playing your own music unless you're going to start playing weddings (which may not be a bad idea for them at this point.) I'm sure it's the fat guys in suits in the programming department that came up with the brilliant idea of cover tunes. I bet I know exactly what was said in the meeting:
"Yeah, well people probably aren't that familiar with INXS' music. What.. they only had like 5-6 hits way back when, right? It's not interesting enough to lure viewers in. So... let's have them do lame covers that viewers will automatically identify with, know the choruses to, and make them want to watch!"
And I'll bet that once the band was confronted with the cover tune idea, they weren't too fond of it. But the fat guys in suits have money and power, and INXS 2.0 probably thought "Aaah - fuck it! We're getting paid and we need the exposure."
Coming soon to used $2.99 CD bins across the country: INXS 2.0 CDs featuring new singer [insert name here]. You'll find it right behind the 2 dozen Carrie Underwood CDs that people will have bought at Walgreens and sold immediately after suddenly feeling utterly disgusted with themselves.
Screw all of this.. I'm goin' fishin.
Tuesday, July 5, 2005
Thanks
Just wanted to post a special thanks to those of you stepping up to bat to try and help me out lately - you know who you are, darlings. Every little effort regardless of the outcome is immensely appreciated. In the future when I'm rich and famous with my Meat Smoothie book deal and wiping my arse with $100 bills (and pages from my book), I'll remember you all and be sure to send you nice wine and salami gift baskets every holiday.
To those of you unaware, I'm [hopefully] approaching the tail end of what has been the longest job search in my personal employment history. It has shown me sides of myself that I didn't know I had in me and hopefully won't ever have to see again once all this poot is over with. It has taught me this: always have a backup plan. BAH!
Thanks again everyone, and as my favorite ever fart-in-a-windstorm phrase from the KISS: EXPOSED! video goes:
To those of you unaware, I'm [hopefully] approaching the tail end of what has been the longest job search in my personal employment history. It has shown me sides of myself that I didn't know I had in me and hopefully won't ever have to see again once all this poot is over with. It has taught me this: always have a backup plan. BAH!
Thanks again everyone, and as my favorite ever fart-in-a-windstorm phrase from the KISS: EXPOSED! video goes:
"I'm alive and well... Where am I?"
Wherever I am, I gots the FOAD Boogie and I gots to get it out. More on that later.
p.s. - To all of those ass munchers on monster.com and the other job boards who keep giving me false hopes by sending me YOU'RE HIRED! emails only for me to open them up and discover it's misleading spammy solicitation for bullshit outbound sales and telemarketing positions, fuck you very much.
Monday, July 4, 2005
PsychoRollerBoogieBoy
Sunday whilst walking around the lake with Dan and Jules getting sunburned and trying to avoid being run over by rollerbladers, something whizzed past us at the speed of light leaving a rainbow comet trail of glitter behind it.
"What was that mysterious entity?" says I to Dan and Jules, and they were just as dumbfounded as I. I suddenly felt a rush of lightheadedness and needed to sit down. A warming sense of deja vu swept over me and every power within me told my eyes to follow the rainbow.
At the end of the rainbow was a man that looked a lot like Seinfeld creator Larry David wearing the shortest, tightest pair of shorts you can imagine (so tight I could tell what religion he was, as they say) and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt exposing his tan, leathery chest with tufts of silver hair. He was on a pair of black rollerskates and had headphones on - not sure what he was listening to, but it's safe to assume whatever it was, it was telling him to swirl and twirl around on his rollerskates like he was an extra in CHiPs. I have never seen somebody so fearless and daring on rollerskates: he was skating backwards doing 'S' shapes all over the trail, spinning around like a psychedelic tornado, and somehow amazingly dodged everyone and everything in his path as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
Everyone on the trail stopped what they were doing to watch this man in action. People pointed. Dan was speechless. Jules said he should wear a cape. I felt like I was watching Xanadu. I've seen this dude a few times before - VomitGod, you may remember when we were biking on Calhoun a year ago and he was doing this exact same thing. But when we saw him, he was doing it in the middle of Lake Street.
This guy is so lame that he's awesome. If you're ever in the Lake Calhoun area, be on the lookout for him - he's pretty hard to miss.
"What was that mysterious entity?" says I to Dan and Jules, and they were just as dumbfounded as I. I suddenly felt a rush of lightheadedness and needed to sit down. A warming sense of deja vu swept over me and every power within me told my eyes to follow the rainbow.
At the end of the rainbow was a man that looked a lot like Seinfeld creator Larry David wearing the shortest, tightest pair of shorts you can imagine (so tight I could tell what religion he was, as they say) and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt exposing his tan, leathery chest with tufts of silver hair. He was on a pair of black rollerskates and had headphones on - not sure what he was listening to, but it's safe to assume whatever it was, it was telling him to swirl and twirl around on his rollerskates like he was an extra in CHiPs. I have never seen somebody so fearless and daring on rollerskates: he was skating backwards doing 'S' shapes all over the trail, spinning around like a psychedelic tornado, and somehow amazingly dodged everyone and everything in his path as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
Everyone on the trail stopped what they were doing to watch this man in action. People pointed. Dan was speechless. Jules said he should wear a cape. I felt like I was watching Xanadu. I've seen this dude a few times before - VomitGod, you may remember when we were biking on Calhoun a year ago and he was doing this exact same thing. But when we saw him, he was doing it in the middle of Lake Street.
This guy is so lame that he's awesome. If you're ever in the Lake Calhoun area, be on the lookout for him - he's pretty hard to miss.
Saturday, July 2, 2005
Fan mail
Every so often I receive messages from you fine readers asking me where I draw inspiration to write and where I get my ideas from.
Here's the secret: I am an illiterate literate. I never learned to read, however am capable of writing. For example, I have no idea what I'm typing right now, as I am not capable of reading it. I just type things that I hope are real words and form them into things that look like paragraphs and hope for the best.
Here's the secret: I am an illiterate literate. I never learned to read, however am capable of writing. For example, I have no idea what I'm typing right now, as I am not capable of reading it. I just type things that I hope are real words and form them into things that look like paragraphs and hope for the best.
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