www.ratemypoo.com
I rated 4 poos before i started gagging. I'm going to try to beat that when I'm not full of chinese food.
Think ya can beat that brian?
by the way, anyone else noticed a correlation between very weak stomachs and bachelorhood?
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Gettin some
I heard a couple of years ago there is a saying that if you get great parking spaces when you are not getting laid. So I'm figuring this must be the case, while I've been on an excellent parking space run the last few weeks, I haven't been getting any. Then last night - get some and today no good parking spaces. I don't anticipate getting any tonight so tomorrow should be the return of good parking spaces.
Monday, October 17, 2005
band of the week
The Coup. funk/hip-hop. live band, singer with an afro.
download "cars and shoes" "me and jesus the pimp in a '79 grenada last night" "5 million ways to kill a CEO" "wear clean draws" for a taste.
see them live, on tour now, with The Lifesavas, another of the best unknkown hip-hop groups. chicago 10/21 at abbey pub
NYC, canal room. 10/29
download "cars and shoes" "me and jesus the pimp in a '79 grenada last night" "5 million ways to kill a CEO" "wear clean draws" for a taste.
see them live, on tour now, with The Lifesavas, another of the best unknkown hip-hop groups. chicago 10/21 at abbey pub
NYC, canal room. 10/29
Sunday, October 16, 2005
XMAS
Dee and I will be in Snowmass for Christmas, and most likely News Years too. We should plan some cousin activities. Perhaps one of these "cousing olympics" I've been hearing so much about. I kick ass on the parallel bars....just try me.
Friday, October 14, 2005
right now
They thought that coming in to work late, hungover and wearing a lynard skynard shirt had gone out of style. well they didnt know anything about style.
I've grown to hate the nausea-hunger more than just about anything else about a hangover. it's like a hungry, diseased dog, who when you feed him tries to bite you.
i have a bottle of absinthe in my car, I intend to drive straight from work to drink it next to a police station by where a few friends work. there is a frisby golf course there, but it's just dawning on me that it might not be a great idea, but will almost certainly be done anyway.
It also just dawned on me that I forgot to call Adam back and tell him I'm not coming to Moab.
Bands on tour that I'm excited about: The Duo (jazzy) Midnite (reggae) Mos and Kweli (hip-hop) The Coup and Lifesavas (hip-hop). www.jambase.com is an excellent source for finding local concerts.
Nutrigrain bars all smell the same.
I've grown to hate the nausea-hunger more than just about anything else about a hangover. it's like a hungry, diseased dog, who when you feed him tries to bite you.
i have a bottle of absinthe in my car, I intend to drive straight from work to drink it next to a police station by where a few friends work. there is a frisby golf course there, but it's just dawning on me that it might not be a great idea, but will almost certainly be done anyway.
It also just dawned on me that I forgot to call Adam back and tell him I'm not coming to Moab.
Bands on tour that I'm excited about: The Duo (jazzy) Midnite (reggae) Mos and Kweli (hip-hop) The Coup and Lifesavas (hip-hop). www.jambase.com is an excellent source for finding local concerts.
Nutrigrain bars all smell the same.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Two things
Uno:
Is anyone as creeped out by condensation as I am? I mean I have a glass of ice water in front of me and somehow the water has made its way from the inside of the glass to the outside. How the fuck does it go through glass and why does everyone else just except this as normal?
Dos:
I'm drawing a huge blank here. I had something and then I lost it. God I hate that, I have the short term memory of a speck of dust. Screw it, it was probably stupid anyway. I'm just going to throw out an arbitrary prejudice: I hate people who breathe.
Is anyone as creeped out by condensation as I am? I mean I have a glass of ice water in front of me and somehow the water has made its way from the inside of the glass to the outside. How the fuck does it go through glass and why does everyone else just except this as normal?
Dos:
I'm drawing a huge blank here. I had something and then I lost it. God I hate that, I have the short term memory of a speck of dust. Screw it, it was probably stupid anyway. I'm just going to throw out an arbitrary prejudice: I hate people who breathe.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Kill your TV
I've come to the realization that nine out of every ten books that I read are only mildly interesting and easily forgotten. Sure they are usually well written, but good prose can only take you so far. I'd like to think that its my superior intelligence that causes my disinterest in said books. However, better sense dictates that I'm probably just picking the wrong books. In light of this revelation I am providing a list of books that I have discovered to be not only profound and insightful, but deeply enigmatic as well. I hope they save you the frustration that comes with trial and error. Anyway here goes(in order of favoritism):
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
Siddartha by Herman Hesse(thanks again Rob)
Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah by Richard Bach
Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins
Petals of Blood by Ngugi wa Thiong'o
Life of Pi by Yann Martel
Replay by Ken Grimwood
Slaughter House Five/Cat's Cradle both by Kurt Vonnegut
Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac
The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Lost Horizon by James Hilton
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
The Jungle by Upton Sinclair
I hope this helps someone and I'd love to know what you guys are reading.
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
Siddartha by Herman Hesse(thanks again Rob)
Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah by Richard Bach
Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins
Petals of Blood by Ngugi wa Thiong'o
Life of Pi by Yann Martel
Replay by Ken Grimwood
Slaughter House Five/Cat's Cradle both by Kurt Vonnegut
Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac
The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Lost Horizon by James Hilton
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
The Jungle by Upton Sinclair
I hope this helps someone and I'd love to know what you guys are reading.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
a link, and praise for karl denson
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4335230085826254641&q=%22family+guy%22
Friday, September 30, 2005
Interpol Funnies
Dee and I went to see Interpol for our birthdays last week. Excellent show, I have to say. Two funny events to describe:
1) Noone was eating popcorn in the Michigan Theater, despite the fact that it was on sale in the lobby, making me wonder if popcorn was acceptable during concert shows. Dee presumed that, no, It was not allowed since people would spill it too much. I scoffed, then found out that they did allow popcorn! So, I bought some, loaded it up with slimy butter, and then immediately spilled it all over the seats and floor.
2) We sat in the balcony, so noone was standing up or dancing during the show. Dee was bummed out. It's a concert, y'know; people should be standing. Oh well. Moments later, we saw a guy that actually was standing and dancing have an argument with a muscle-head behind him, presumably because muscle-head's girlfriend couldn't see. The argument escalated into the muscle-head grabbing the dancer and strangling him. Security came, girlfriends were yelling, muscle-head was in his element, etc. So, strangulation is what happens if you actually do stand and dance in the balcony, for future reference.
1) Noone was eating popcorn in the Michigan Theater, despite the fact that it was on sale in the lobby, making me wonder if popcorn was acceptable during concert shows. Dee presumed that, no, It was not allowed since people would spill it too much. I scoffed, then found out that they did allow popcorn! So, I bought some, loaded it up with slimy butter, and then immediately spilled it all over the seats and floor.
2) We sat in the balcony, so noone was standing up or dancing during the show. Dee was bummed out. It's a concert, y'know; people should be standing. Oh well. Moments later, we saw a guy that actually was standing and dancing have an argument with a muscle-head behind him, presumably because muscle-head's girlfriend couldn't see. The argument escalated into the muscle-head grabbing the dancer and strangling him. Security came, girlfriends were yelling, muscle-head was in his element, etc. So, strangulation is what happens if you actually do stand and dance in the balcony, for future reference.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Worst Cousin
I am getting the worst cousin award for the week. Bryan came up to Madison for a football game with some friends. He called (short notice...but still called) and told me he was going to be there. Well, he arrived a bit late so I didn't get to see him before the game, but told him to come meet me after on the main strip of bars. But as it turns out I spent about 4 hours in the bar the entire game, swilling pitchers like they were one man refreshments. Things became a bit fuzzy aound that point, boozy and covered in beer spittle, I took to the streets. Surounded by a carnival of lights and a stampede of red clad fans, I cheered hard and proud. Sticky fisted from the cocktails of yore, I howled at heavens as if to punch the Gods with thanks for leaving my team the victors of the tourney (I must add that this was almost the first football game I've ever watched and I actually hate football). I wrist-punched any object that would make my play in the roar greater than the others (resulting in a bruised wrist, and erotic stares). Time passed with my elation ending with a barfy hot nausea. I began asking people to meet me at street corners that didn't exist (I don't recomend...results in confusion) and body going completely limp in the middle of the road. It was thus time for the walk home. That night I looked like a retarded man trying to swim. Bryan called, I think I was already at home; lost was our meeting. So... moral of the story: Bryan I am sorry, if you are coming up again this weekend for Widespread, give me a call, I'll make it up to you
:)Jake
:)Jake
Anagrams
Well I'm stoned and bored. To kill the time before Matlock comes on I've decided to make some anagrams of all the cousins' names.
Robert Smith=Merits throb and Be shit Mr Rot
Kate Weisenborn=Weiner as Bent, OK?/Weiner Basket On/Weiner Task Bone/and so on
Kyle Smith=Likes myth and Them silky
Dee Smith=Dim sheet or deem shit
Adam Williams=I am dismal law
Molly Cournoyer=Cruel or my loony
Jeremy Smith=Meter shy Jim
Bryan Cournoyer=Run coronary, bye
Matt Williams=Me llama with wits
Kerry Machnica=Hayrack Mincer
Ryan Machnica=Chinaman racy
Robert Smith=Merits throb and Be shit Mr Rot
Kate Weisenborn=Weiner as Bent, OK?/Weiner Basket On/Weiner Task Bone/and so on
Kyle Smith=Likes myth and Them silky
Dee Smith=Dim sheet or deem shit
Adam Williams=I am dismal law
Molly Cournoyer=Cruel or my loony
Jeremy Smith=Meter shy Jim
Bryan Cournoyer=Run coronary, bye
Matt Williams=Me llama with wits
Kerry Machnica=Hayrack Mincer
Ryan Machnica=Chinaman racy
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
!
Has anyone, in the country, ever read Mary Worth?
Serious sunday comics are just one of a long list of things that are complete bullshit, but we're used to them. Fuck Mary Worth.
Serious sunday comics are just one of a long list of things that are complete bullshit, but we're used to them. Fuck Mary Worth.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Larry
Here's a silly little short story I wrote tonight, after deciding it wasn't yet time for bed and going to the jazz bar by myself.
It's kind of a sequel to The Pedometer (see short story 5/07/2005)
I've always believe that the first thing that you see in the moring sets the tone for the day.
So there's a spot next to my bed, above my alarm clock, that is the host of a carousel of pictures and quotes, placed to fill my morning blank slate with optimism and purpose.
Right now the picture depicts a middle-aged gentleman, bald, portly, and completely naked except for a ball-gag and two large electrotrodes applied at the nipples.
I look at this picture every morning, and I see POWER.
Now I'm not talking about the electric power that, based on his expression, is coarsing through his body at the moment of capture.
no no no
He represents something entirely different than the erotic implications of electricity.
He personifies freedom.
He, Larry, as I have grown to call him, had been emancipated from the chains of societal mores, the shackles of convention and reputation, free from any boundaries or restrictions.
Well, besides the ball-gag.
"Larry" has achieved a freedom few of us can even imagine. He has reached a plane of consciousness, one of absolute truth and beauty. pure self-acceptance.
The man does not have a comb-over.
Every morning I greeted my day with aspirations to be 100% myself, not caring of the judgments of others, and every night I hung my head as I faced his picture, unworthy of his pained, unblinking gaze.
Last saturday was particularly bad, I wore uncomfortable shoes to an uncomfortable bar and felt it was I who had the problem when rejected by a tall, overly made-up blonde.
I still had so much to learn, and I knew just who I could learn it from. I vowed to meet Larry, and I intended to devote the coming sunday, and every day afterwards, to making that dream come true.
Now I've never been one to underestimate the power of the internet, especially when it comes to the location of aging sexual deviants, but I worried that Larry might prove ellusive. Maybe he lead a double life, maybe The Picture was just a fleeting image, a forgotten moment.
Maybe the man would hesitate to discuss the chain of events that ended with him gagged, erect, and in considerable self-induced pain.
Yeah, and maybe the Trojan Horse wouldn't work, but they fucking tried it anyway, didn't they?
So I brewd a pot of strong coffee and set down to business.
Sure, there were a few points where I wanted to quit, where I wanted to exit those horrible chat rooms and discontinue the young, supple alter-ego I had created. But you can't run a marathon without dropping some sweat.
It was some time around sunrise on monday morning when a shot in the dark lead turned up the man I so desperately sought. He lived in New Hampshire. His name was, indeed, Larry. The connection was beyond the realm of science. Truly I had found my mentor.
On Monday I booked a flight. On wednesday I made first contact. A week later I had set up a meeting, feigning the role of an East Coast party organizer. "It's not just a party," I told him, "It's a way of life."
So yeah, I met Larry. And yeah, he taught me a lot. Lubricants, for example, double as conductors, although in the case of a car-battery, this is seldom advised.
It's kind of a sequel to The Pedometer (see short story 5/07/2005)
I've always believe that the first thing that you see in the moring sets the tone for the day.
So there's a spot next to my bed, above my alarm clock, that is the host of a carousel of pictures and quotes, placed to fill my morning blank slate with optimism and purpose.
Right now the picture depicts a middle-aged gentleman, bald, portly, and completely naked except for a ball-gag and two large electrotrodes applied at the nipples.
I look at this picture every morning, and I see POWER.
Now I'm not talking about the electric power that, based on his expression, is coarsing through his body at the moment of capture.
no no no
He represents something entirely different than the erotic implications of electricity.
He personifies freedom.
He, Larry, as I have grown to call him, had been emancipated from the chains of societal mores, the shackles of convention and reputation, free from any boundaries or restrictions.
Well, besides the ball-gag.
"Larry" has achieved a freedom few of us can even imagine. He has reached a plane of consciousness, one of absolute truth and beauty. pure self-acceptance.
The man does not have a comb-over.
Every morning I greeted my day with aspirations to be 100% myself, not caring of the judgments of others, and every night I hung my head as I faced his picture, unworthy of his pained, unblinking gaze.
Last saturday was particularly bad, I wore uncomfortable shoes to an uncomfortable bar and felt it was I who had the problem when rejected by a tall, overly made-up blonde.
I still had so much to learn, and I knew just who I could learn it from. I vowed to meet Larry, and I intended to devote the coming sunday, and every day afterwards, to making that dream come true.
Now I've never been one to underestimate the power of the internet, especially when it comes to the location of aging sexual deviants, but I worried that Larry might prove ellusive. Maybe he lead a double life, maybe The Picture was just a fleeting image, a forgotten moment.
Maybe the man would hesitate to discuss the chain of events that ended with him gagged, erect, and in considerable self-induced pain.
Yeah, and maybe the Trojan Horse wouldn't work, but they fucking tried it anyway, didn't they?
So I brewd a pot of strong coffee and set down to business.
Sure, there were a few points where I wanted to quit, where I wanted to exit those horrible chat rooms and discontinue the young, supple alter-ego I had created. But you can't run a marathon without dropping some sweat.
It was some time around sunrise on monday morning when a shot in the dark lead turned up the man I so desperately sought. He lived in New Hampshire. His name was, indeed, Larry. The connection was beyond the realm of science. Truly I had found my mentor.
On Monday I booked a flight. On wednesday I made first contact. A week later I had set up a meeting, feigning the role of an East Coast party organizer. "It's not just a party," I told him, "It's a way of life."
So yeah, I met Larry. And yeah, he taught me a lot. Lubricants, for example, double as conductors, although in the case of a car-battery, this is seldom advised.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
update on my ladies. cuz i know all of you are dieing to know. i failed. and now i have a stalker who creeps out people on mushrooms.
another update. i have decided to create a drinking game(it being saturday night, with minimal to do) where the goal is to make yourself drink. its simple. you hit a cup, you drink it. first round: 6 cups. the smaller the cups the better. game time in 10 minutes.
another update: i love easy mac
another update: i have hairy balls, and a hairier gooch.
another update. i have decided to create a drinking game(it being saturday night, with minimal to do) where the goal is to make yourself drink. its simple. you hit a cup, you drink it. first round: 6 cups. the smaller the cups the better. game time in 10 minutes.
another update: i love easy mac
another update: i have hairy balls, and a hairier gooch.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Gone Yurtin: a photographic journey
alright, I have put Matt's pictures up on a web-site.
photos.yahoo.com/phantastikdan
It turns out all the pics are parentproof, so feel free to share the link.
Captions, and their inherent fun, are the main reason I did this. Unfortunately, I am the only one allowed to change captions. I can give you guys my yahoo passsword so you can change them, or you can simply write some caption ideas in comments here, and I'll change them myself. That's probably easier. For instance, "change Gone Yurtin' 078 to "Bryan has a beard." And it shall be done.
Enjoy, and to everyone else, you should come next year.
Oh, and Bryan, we can def. get your pics up here as well. mail me a disk or i'll give you my password and you can do it.
photos.yahoo.com/phantastikdan
It turns out all the pics are parentproof, so feel free to share the link.
Captions, and their inherent fun, are the main reason I did this. Unfortunately, I am the only one allowed to change captions. I can give you guys my yahoo passsword so you can change them, or you can simply write some caption ideas in comments here, and I'll change them myself. That's probably easier. For instance, "change Gone Yurtin' 078 to "Bryan has a beard." And it shall be done.
Enjoy, and to everyone else, you should come next year.
Oh, and Bryan, we can def. get your pics up here as well. mail me a disk or i'll give you my password and you can do it.
Monday, September 19, 2005
the story of my life
I have decided that my masterpiece will be my autobiography, so i take my living seriously. I constantly ask myself, if this chapter were a tv show, what would the 10 word TV Guide synapse be?
For a while it was, "one man struggles to meet girls in a new city"
now, it's "one man is blue-balled by inspiration"
of course, the critics (my reflection) hates them both. But maybe there's progress there.
The story would start with me saying, fun is no longer what matters. sex has too many astringent strings that siphon my time. i have a higher calling. i am withdrawing from my daily hedonism in pursuit of my art. and then i would masturbate, maybe read a little, perhaps a movie.... I'd get little glimpses of high creativity, i'd open a file, write some words, think about how tonight is going to be great, i'll write until the sunrise. then i'll stare at my screen awhile and take another break.
I want to suffer for something. I'd like to suffer for my art, but I don't think I have one. I am fully prepared to give up most of my joys and all my comforts for something, but i just don't know what that should be.
any suggestions?
the clock is ticking.
so here's a request, write what your current chapter synopse would be, and then what you'd like your next one to be.
For a while it was, "one man struggles to meet girls in a new city"
now, it's "one man is blue-balled by inspiration"
of course, the critics (my reflection) hates them both. But maybe there's progress there.
The story would start with me saying, fun is no longer what matters. sex has too many astringent strings that siphon my time. i have a higher calling. i am withdrawing from my daily hedonism in pursuit of my art. and then i would masturbate, maybe read a little, perhaps a movie.... I'd get little glimpses of high creativity, i'd open a file, write some words, think about how tonight is going to be great, i'll write until the sunrise. then i'll stare at my screen awhile and take another break.
I want to suffer for something. I'd like to suffer for my art, but I don't think I have one. I am fully prepared to give up most of my joys and all my comforts for something, but i just don't know what that should be.
any suggestions?
the clock is ticking.
so here's a request, write what your current chapter synopse would be, and then what you'd like your next one to be.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Gone Yurtin'
I thought I would post a few pictures from the 1st Annual Cuzzin Backpacking Trip. There are WAY too many awesome pictures to put up here, but here's some for your enjoyment. I'll be sending out the rest of the pictures on Friday. I also wanted to say that I had one of the best times of my life and it wouldn't have been the same without you guys. I can't wait to do it again next year.


Wednesday, September 14, 2005
miss me?
sorry i havent posted in a while. im sure all of you miss my stupid butt/boob pictures as well as my fantastic links. i still havent fixed my computer because the computer people leave before my classes are over. iv got a killer of a semester to look forward to. I also got my first ever D on a math test. which sucks. but it was the first test in calculus 2, so i guess its alright. many were stupid mistakes on stuff i could have done in my head. oh well. i will make a note of posting more often, but i fear i may not be able to post my usual hypnotic asses. I apologize.
bragging time:
on a side note im single and back in the game. im currently working on getting the hotest girl in school(and im not the only one who says so). And shes in the same boat as me(just got out of a long relationship, still in love with ex...) and its nice cuz shes also cool as hell too, acts like a hippie, modest, and is the friendliest drunk ever. so even chillin with her is alright. not yet totally complete though, due to a crazy freshman girl who wont leave me alone and sleeps on my spare matress. thats right, i have a stalker cuz im a pimp. say otherwise and your ass is grass.
what, i love the ladies.
and im not sexist cuz most of my friends are girls. so ha. although, maybe these girls think im gay. that wouldnt be cool. nope, couldnt be. they know what iv got to offer. they all know what iv go to offer.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
bragging time:
on a side note im single and back in the game. im currently working on getting the hotest girl in school(and im not the only one who says so). And shes in the same boat as me(just got out of a long relationship, still in love with ex...) and its nice cuz shes also cool as hell too, acts like a hippie, modest, and is the friendliest drunk ever. so even chillin with her is alright. not yet totally complete though, due to a crazy freshman girl who wont leave me alone and sleeps on my spare matress. thats right, i have a stalker cuz im a pimp. say otherwise and your ass is grass.
what, i love the ladies.
and im not sexist cuz most of my friends are girls. so ha. although, maybe these girls think im gay. that wouldnt be cool. nope, couldnt be. they know what iv got to offer. they all know what iv go to offer.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
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