Tuesday, November 28, 2006

unfortunate hiatus

My lax attitude towards this blog saddens me.

That doesn't mean it will end anytime soon, though.

Don't miss me too much.

I'll be busy raking leaves, catching up on Onions I haven't read yet, and buying Christmas presents.

Have a happy December.
(Let's say I make writing in my blog a New Year's resolution.)

Monday, October 09, 2006

Tate Modern slides

I saw this article on Fark, a website I frequent that is usually a good source of current event news of all kinds. It's basically a site of links to other stories, and I swear I want to read two out of every three of the stories that are posted.

Anyway, some Belgian artist put a bunch of slides in the huge atrium at the Tate Modern in London. They look AWESOME.

I don't really care to get into the debate of whether they are art or not; I'm just saying they look and sound really fun.



Saturday, September 23, 2006

anecdote from Dean Ween

I frequent the website of Ween, one of my favorite bands.

After a tour, Dean Ween, the guitarist, usually writes a tour diary. It's brief, but usually pretty funny and informative.

The reason I write today is because I found one of his entries to be frightening and interesting.

Here's the text to the diary entry, and then a link to the story he's referring to. It would be quite a trip if this happened to me; that's all I kept thinking.

"the new york state fair syracuse, ny
this gig was almost identical to the gig in allentown the night before. we played on the infield of a race track facing the grandstand both nights. this set was really good and brown and the best part was that we beat out the monsoon rains by only a few hours. i can't imagine what the fairgrounds must have been like for the days after our set. now i swear to god that this next part is true. if you follow the news at all, you'd know that there was a fugitive in upstate new york named ralph "bucky" phillips, wanted for shooting three state troopers and he was also an escapee from the erie prison. there was a massive manhunt underway for him right about the time we were up in that part of the state. i had only heard about the story and hadn't seen him on the news at this point. on our drive back to new hope from syracuse i fell asleep in the van and when i woke up we were off the interstate at this tiny little gas station with a shitty little diner. the other guys were inside using the bathroom and gettting food and i was the last one to wake up and get out of the truck. as i was walking across the gravel parking lot all groggy this dude was walking towards me and i remember thinking as i looked at his face "if i don't stare at the top of my sneakers right now, this motherfucker is gonna kill me on the spot." it scared the fucking shit out of me. to make a long story short, i got home, slept for a couple days, turned on the t.v. and lo and behold, there was the same dude from the parking lot. they captured him right after that, and no one believes my story, but it fucking happened just like i told it."

News story about Bucky Phillips: Not cut out for the straight life

Friday, September 08, 2006

The Old Simpsons, vivariums, Elliott Smith, and Jerry Stiller

(Note: I've recently posted several new blog entries consecutively, so
be sure to catch all of them, because there are a few others below
this new one.)

After watching the past few weeks at 6:30, I realize nothing beats The
Simpsons. The newer episodes of the past few seasons don't stack up to
the episodes from back in the mid-90's. I swear; it's just good
comedy. It kicks the crap out of Family Guy, which has turned into
crap. All they do is try to be off-the-wall and offensive. And it
grows tiring. Family Guy had good stuff the first season or two. But
since then, it's stupid. Simpsons > Family Guy, is the simple equation
to remember. Futurama, by the Simpsons creator, is also really good.
Just my two cents on the matter.

A little definition for you to impress people with (good luck making
it contextual within the conversations you're engaging in, but that's
your problem): VIVARIUM: noun, a terrarium used for especially small
animals. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

My music recommendation of the moment is Elliott Smith. I squirm at
the fact that it took me so long to discover this guy. (Also, I'm
really good at discovering musicians after they've died in one way or
another, so I'll never be able to see them play live. See: Blind
Melon). It takes a few listens through each of his CDs, but damn, the
guy just writes a catchy song. And almost all of them just grow on you
and you love them more each time. I won't drill it into your brains,
but if you like solid pop songwriting (I guess that's the best way to
describe his music), check him out. Some consider it dark music, and
the lyrics are rather dark and depressing, but you don't always pick
up on it because the melodies are so well-written. He stabbed himself
in 2003, so perhaps that's a subtle indicator of his lyrical style.
(As a slight aside, his voice takes a little getting used to. As
Gretchen described it once, it can be whiny at points. But I told her
to give him another shot, after her initial disdain for the music. She
hasn't gotten back to me yet.)

My last point of the day and it's bold. I'd take Seinfeld over King of
Queens any day of the week, but in my opinion, Jerry Stiller's
character on King of Queens is much more amusing than his Seinfeld
character. In Seinfeld, he's pure rage (and that's funny for sure),
but the writing for his character in King of Queens is more than that.
Hard to describe, but if you watched a few, you'd know what I mean.

Alien Ant Farm anecdote

On the topic of Pantera, as morbid of a segue as it is, it reminds me
of an incident that happened to me and some friends in July 2001.

The group consisted of Dirty Dave, Joe B., John, and I and the
location was Kansas City, MO on July 9, 2001. We were on what was
titled the "Extreme Steel Road Trip 2001," where we traveled from St.
Louis to the Lake of the Ozarks, then to Manhattan, KS, followed by KC
and back to STL. We picked up John (who was actually was a sorry
substitute for our friend Stephen who encountered some trouble with
the parents and had to return home for the week) and headed to Kansas
City for the Extreme Steel concert, which consisted of headliners
Pantera and Slayer (hardcore bands, to sum it up) along with Static-X,
Skrape, and Morbid Angel as the openers. I was, and still am to an
extent, into this type of heavy metal, but I need to be in the right
mood.

The concert rocked hard (it really is a natural wonder to see a
Pantera live, and I pity anyone who never had the chance to
observe, or participate, in one), but this is secondary to the
anecdote at hand.



We were departing the concert after it ended, and as we were exiting,
I spotted a short man with a uniquely shaved crew cut. He also had a
tattoo at the back of his neck; it was the logo of alternative rock
band Alien Ant Farm. I followed him down the concourse a bit and, upon
further facial investigation, realized it was actually THE lead singer
of Alien Ant Farm. (Simple explanation: the Vans Warped Tour was going
on the next day, which AAF was playing. Just wanted to take in a
relaxing show the night before, I assume.)

Dirty Dave (trust me, the description is rather applicable), being the
extrovert that he is, led the charge in approaching Dryden Mitchell
and engaging him in a conversation. As amusing as the story is
already, Mitchell's reaction furthered the experience. Actually, if I
recall the situation correctly, I began by say, "Hey, are you the lead
singer of alien ant farm?" And he responded, startled, "Ye..ye…yes…,"
Basically, the man was frightened out if his mind. I'm assuming,
because he's a stage performer who I wouldn't think would be prone to
shyness except when performing (though I think there are personality
types like that out there), that this dude was probably messed up on
some sort of drug and feared for his life. Heck, I would be scared of
four Pantera fans accosted me and struck up a conversation. The
conversation was brief, but a mention was made of Dave and Joe
attending the Warped Tour when it came through St. Louis in the
following days.

Sure enough, Dave and Joe caught Mitchell's eye at the concert. He
wasn't too f'ed up back in KC, I guess, since he remembered them, and
proceeded to silently offer them a sip of his lukewarm Busch Light.

After thinking about it further, I think maybe Dryden Mitchell is a
little messed up in one way or another. Anyway, it makes for a good
story, right?

Steve Irwin



While it's turned into overkill at this point, it is weird how
gripping and affecting this story has become. I'll admit, it stunned
me when I heard the news that a stingray had stung the Crocodile
Hunter in the chest, ironically while he was doing some "soft pieces" for
his daughter's television show, due to inclement weather postponing
his more dangerous shoot.

I haven't quite figured out why it has affected me like it did. Maybe
I just had that idea stuck in my head that he was somehow invincible
(a farce I know, but you get what I'm saying: he tackled alligators,
taunted snakes by the tail, and constantly stared death in the face).
I never watched the guy regularly. I was still stunned when I first
heard he had died, but was more amazed when it was due to an attack
from a normally docile animal. He had no idea it was coming (not that
he was expecting it whenever he held a king cobra by the neck, but I
bet the adrenaline was pumping a little at that point), and if had
been hit anywhere other than directly in the heart, he might still be
here.

In the end, I think it was the combination of Steve Irwin, this
energetic and cool TV personality, dying, the animal that actually
took his life, and the incredibly small chances of him actually dying
from such an attack (I'm assuming only a strike to the heart, a major
artery or vein, or the brain, if that were possible) that probably
took me aback.

It's just kind of weird, you know? It isn't affecting me like a family
member dying or anything, don't read into it like that, it's just one
of those stories that catches you by surprise. (Dimebag Darrell from
Pantera was probably the last celebrity that really shocked me when
they died, when he was shot at a concert in December of '04. See some details about it here.)

Two vexing problems

Though these issues are rather trite, I'm wondering if anyone has
these problems like I do.

Lately, I've been fighting allergies (I don't know to what
specifically I'm allergic to; something in nature is what I've
narrowed it down to). Anyway, it's led to a runny nose, sneezing, and
general chest congestion. The problem that plagues me is that when I
blow my nose with a tissue, because of my manly stubble, I get these
particles of tissue stuck in the "mustache" I have (I quote it because
I'm not growing a mustache; it's just the hair that forms after a day
or two of growth…as an unrelated aside, I'm having to shave about
every other day now and needless to say, it's quite an inconvenience).
Am I the only who is having this tissue in the 'stache problem? I'm
surmising that this is the reason that the handkerchief was invented,
most probably by a man suffering from this very problem. My opinion of
the handkerchief was always one of disgust, but perhaps now I can see
why carrying around a rag of dried snot might have its benefits.
Monogrammed perhaps? (X-mas isn't too far off, you know, and it'd make
a fine gift. For me, to be specific.)

(Edit: Gretchen got a sneak preview of this post, and said there was no way I was carrying around gross handkerchiefs. I guess she'll get used to me having a flaky, papery mustache then.)

The other problem that has irked me as of late are what I have deemed
"unwieldy" box flaps. Normally that refers to something that is
awkward or hard to handle (like an armoire perhaps). In this case, I
mean a box flap that is not easy to penetrate at initial use or that
does not easily clasp once it is broken in. The top of a box of cereal
is probably the most common example. It really bothers me when doesn't
clasp like it should or it simply gets torn off when the box is open
or that it won't even go together with ease. They've had this box flap
thing for decades now, I'm sure, and I figure they would have
perfected the design by this point. It's quite possibly my anal side
coming out, but I really prefer having those boxes clasped with the
flap, as they should be, prior to putting them away in the pantry. Is
that really to much to ask, you cereal mogul sons-of-bitches?

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

radio show and feet out the window

If you're on the computer a lot, you probably listen to music while you're at it.

I recommend checking out a local radio show that a friend of mine is hosting on Wednesday nights starting tonight from 9 to 11 PM central time. The show, Know Alternative, will feature alternative (obviously) and other modern rock music. You can listen to it online if you aren't in the St. Louis area.

Derek knows good music and if you like this type of stuff (think Smashing Pumpkins, Local H, Placebo), then you'll probably dig the show.

Hey, no pressure, but I'll be listening, that's for damn sure.

Go to the bottom of the webpage and you should see the "Listen" button. And then rock out.



(As an aside, I must admit how much I despise seeing the passenger in a car with their foot or feet out the window. Why it enrages me so much I have no idea, but it does. Arms and hands that rest on the window ledge don't bother me a whit. But the sight of a protruding foot really, really bothers me. It's just uncouth.)

Monday, July 24, 2006

quite a hiatus

And a bit more to come.

Just dropping a line to let the five of you who read regularly know that I'm still alive. I haven't posted in a while, but I'll be back soon.

I know it can be frustrating to check a blog multiple times and still see the same entry week after week.

Once Gretchen Postiglione and I get the house cleaned up, write some thank-you notes, and take care of a few other things, I'll get back on the horse, to be figurative.

As a peace offering, I shall post a picture of my younger brother during a track meet. I found it as I was scouring Facebook the other day. It's such a wonderful combination of so many things: raw determination, ferocious facial expression, and exposed gut (no offense, Anthony...though it better not be beer gut, young man). They are all pure Postiglione qualities. Seriously, though, I think it's an awesome picture. Enjoy.

Sunday, June 11, 2006

gravitas



Gravitas:
Pronunciation: 'gra-v&-"täs, -"tas
Function: noun
Etymology: Latin
: high seriousness (as in a person's bearing or in the treatment of a subject)

I recently caught an episode of the Colbert Report on Comedy Central. I don't watch it all the time, but Stephen Colbert can be pretty funny on occasion.

I luckily caught the 100th episode last week. I say luckily because he had on Stone Phillips from NBC, who also was on the inaugural episode of the show.

They proceeded to have a rematch of a "gravitas-off" they had on the first episode. Basically, it was a competition of who could say something more seriously and news anchor-like, for lack of a better term. Of course, the phrases they were saying were ridiculous, making the showdown even more amusing. (An example of this phenomenon is when a news anchor says "some of the images you are about to see..." and so on.)

Maybe it's just me, but I found these unbelievably hilarious. Here are links to the two "gravitas-offs" that Stephen Colbert and Stone Phillips had on the Colbert Report.

The original gravitas-off from the first episode

The gravitas-off rematch (I like this one better, but they're both pretty good)

Dual Action Cleanse

While I thought I had found the greatest infomercials with the Ronco Showtime Rotisserie (side note: check out the Popeil ladies on the left side of the page...lookin' good) and the Miracle Blade knife set (caution: somewhat loud and annoying, but still amusing video comes on when entering the site), those infomercials are now retired.

I have found Dual Action Cleanse. And frankly, the website does it no justice. This infomercial must be viewed to be understood and believed.

In essence, and I quote the website to explain product, Dual Action Cleanse is a "two-part system that is formulated to maximize one's elimination without causing loose stools or uncomfortable cramping. It encourages healthy bowel movements while assisting in cleansing the vital organs and lymphatic system."

To be blunt, it sounds like an herbal remedy you take that causes you to "go" up to three times a day, which I guess is "normal" and "healthy" for some people. (I always think back to high school, when my friend Joe Balmer was in the peak part of his cross-country season, he said he would go FOUR times a day. To this day, that boggles my mind.)

Besides the fact that this product sounds like a total crock (and the number of anti-DAC websites backs that theory), the infomercial is so amusing that I can't describe it. It's the creepy creator, Klee Irwin, who can't be better described by anything other than the word "creepy," along with the "hosts" of the segment, who are the oddest couple I've ever seen. Not that they're involved or anything, but they choose this partially senile older woman and a balding and muscular middle-aged man to interview Irwin. Words just don't do it justice.

Yet, a partial, and thoroughly disturbing clip, can: Klee Irwin describes his 4-year-old daughter's earth-shattering bowel movement and how emasculated it made him feel

Unbelievable. If that hasn't convinced you to buy the product, then you can take heart in the fact that after John Wayne passed away, an autospy was done. The coroner concluded that there was FORTY-FOUR pounds of compacted and unpassed fecal matter in his large intestine. Believe it or not. Are you sold yet?

Anyway, I don't mean to gross anyone out with this. It's just what you stumble across at 1 AM on Sunday morning. And it rekindles your faith in the fact that humanity has a couple of loose screws, because you know there are folks out there buying this stuff.

(If you or someone you know has purchased Dual Action Cleanse, no offense was meant in the submission of this post.)

the sports page at the office



It's nothing really worth complaining about, but sometime I head into the restroom in the morning to do what needs to be done. Say it's around 8:30 in the morning, for example.

I walk in and, almost like clockwork, the sports page is slightly wrinkled and lying in the trash can. It can be easily surmised that someone (and I'm assuming it's the same culprit every time it happens) used the bathroom earlier that day, and they utilized the daily sports page while doing so. Of course, as a courtesy, they dispose of this section before leaving the restoom, since normally the Kansas City Star is placed on the table in the kitchen each morning.

I'm not a germophobe by any means, but I could see why it would be a slight sanitary issue if someone brought back the sports page that had made a trip to the john.

Yet, I'm MORE offended at the fact that they have the gall (or chutzpah if you will) to take what is easily the most popular section of the paper (at least in our office) and go relieve themselves with it and dispose of it when finished. Maybe if your daily routine was using the restroom at 3:30 or 4 PM everyday, I could be more lenient. But this bastard deprives everyone of sports page reading if he has to do his duty in the morning. It happens probably two or three times a week at the most.

Come on, take the Metro section or Arts and Entertainment. Even the classifieds will get the job done. But it takes some nerve to do something as obviously inconsiderate as that. This is the office paper for all in the office to use.

Is it the end of the world? No. It's really not a big deal. And I'm grounded enough to realize this.

But I'm interested to find out who the person is. I won't confront them; I won't say a word. That's not my style.

But I'll tell you this: I will never view this man in the same way again. You can tell a lot about a person by the little things that they say or do. This is just one small example.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

early exercisers

I went into work early last week. I wanted to be in by 6:30 AM, so I left the house around ten after six. As I'm driving through the neighborhood, I saw at least five or ten people out walking or jogging in the park or on the sidewalk.

Wow, talk about making a person feel like a lazy bum. I haven't exercised regularly in several months, and these people are up at six in the morning to better themselves. I swear, sometimes waking up is the hardest thing in the world. It contrasts that wonderful feeling where you hit snooze and get to sleep another ten minutes. If the rest of sleeping felt how those ten minutes did, no one would ever get out of bed.

But maybe that's just me. I'm not a morning person, and perhaps all these healthy folks who are out barely after the sun rises are. It ain't my cup of tea.



(For crying out loud, I tried three or four times to make this image come out looking reasonable, but I say screw it. I'm leaving it as it is, in all it's pixelated glory, as a testament to how awful I am at things like blogging and picture editing and so on. Kansas State taught a lot of you people to be awesome at that sort of thing, but they sure as hell failed with me.)

expectant mothers

I love them to death, I really do, but I must admit that I do not see the logic in have "expectant mother" parking spaces at malls and grocery stores. I've begun to see this phenomenon the past couple years.

Gretchen made an excellent point the other day that a mother with a 6-month old and a 2-year-old deserves a closer spot way more than a chick who's gained twenty pounds in the last couple months. I know I can never relate to what a pregnant woman goes through, so I won't try to empathize in any way, but this evolution in parking space demarcation is the biggest crock I've come across in a long time.

And I'm the last guy who needs a close space to where I'm walking. (For example, those KSU students who would troll the big lot out by the old stadium like they're looking for their favorite hooker. You lazy fools. That you would sit at the end of an aisle for twenty minutes so you have to walk fifty less feet to class is mind-boggling. What a bunch of arrogant sloths.

But I digress. I'm just saying that the handicapped have a legitimate case. If you get knocked up, in my opinion, I think the dude should be going to buy your ice cream and pickles in the first place. (Hopefully that doesn't come back to bite me in the ass one of these days. I'm pretty sure she doesn't read my blog anyway. I pretty sure anyway...)

Thursday, May 25, 2006

Stan Musial

Usually, I'm the type who remembers dates (and I don't mean the kind with women; I never had that many.) Case in point, I recall my grandma and mom got caught in a flash flood on September 22, 1993, and the previous two times I've vomited were October 14, 1994 and September 26, 2004.

The reason I mention this is that one of the coolest things that ever happened to me was actually one of the very things that I can't recall what day it was.

It was a weeknight during the summer in St. Louis, probably four or five years ago, and I had just finished getting a haircut at Hair Saloon for Men, a fine establishment. They offer you beer or soda when you arrive, and there are also complimentary shoeshines available. (I must admit, though, here in Kansas City I frequent Sports Clips, which is also a great place. I might even prefer it over Hair Saloon. True, Hair Saloon felt a bit classier {Sports Clips has more of a "Great Clips" feel to it}, but they have sports on TVs everywhere in the place and you can get the "MVP," which is the best haircut they offer, for $20, and it includes haircut, massaging shampoo, steaming face towel, leave-in conditioner, and a shoulder and neck massage {though it's with one of those rubber-knobbed things you always see people screwing around with at Brookstone, but still}. It's a solid, but affordable place.)

Anyway, the haircut wasn't the cool part of the story. I was departing the Saloon and approaching my car when an elderly voice asked me if I could help him put his wife's wheelchair into the trunk of their car. I'm a generally nice guy, so I said I would give him a hand. I looked at the man as I approached the wheelchair. It took me about half a second to realize who he was.

Though he was pushing 80, I knew it was Stan Musial, one of the greatest baseball players of all-time. (I guess if you aren't a sports fan, this might not be a big deal, but insert your favorite rap artist or architect into the story, and you'd get the idea). I literally have a hazy recollection of the next 30 seconds. I was in this shocked state because I was helping Stan Musial with his wife's wheelchair. I put it into the back of his Caddy and was prepared to go on my way.

Then Stan said to me, "Thanks, son; here you go." He had reached into a cardboard box in his trunk and tossed me an autographed baseball. (I guess he kept a boxful for every possible occasion, including the "thanks for putting my wife's wheelchair in the trunk after we ate dinner at this fancy restaurant" occasion). I said, "Thanks," and that was pretty much the only word I got out during the whole conversation.

Honestly, I don't care much for the autographed ball. I'm looking at it on the shelf as I write this, and the signature starting to fade. I'm sure it might be worth something if it were in better shape, but I don't think I'd ever sell it anyway. I appreciate the great story I can tell from time to time much more than any souvenir. Those two or three phone calls I made to the people I knew who would REALLY appreciate my run-in with Stan the Man right after it happened was the most fun I had had in a long time.

Here's a few Stan links, if you aren't too familiar with the guy.
Stan Musial at Wikipedia
his official site
his entry at baseballlibrary.com

phone scam?

Recently, I've been getting calls from a number that shows up as 604-550-7000.

I didn't recognize it, and when I did pick it up once or twice, there was no one there. They finally left a message. It was some lady with an accent who left an 800 number to call.

I went to trust Google and "googled" the phone number. Several things showed up about some sort of phone scam. Other links showed up about how it's just a general number that shows up when someone is using a calling card or something like that.

Anyway, I didn't know if anyone had had similar experiences. It's a nuisance more than anything, though I haven't heard from the number in a day or two.

Also, the other day I got a speeding ticket and it was bullshit of course. I'm honestly thinking about going to court though. He documented that my "state license plate" was "KS," when I actually have "MO" plates. If I recall, someone told me that that is grounds for dismissal of the charges. But, we'll see. Anyway, there's no way that the road I was on should have been 30 MPH. I was going 43 MPH. And he was sitting there yanking it, just waiting to bust some innocent civilian. It sucks for cops, because they really are there for so many good reasons, but they get such a bad name for what they spend most of their shifts doing: busting people for nothing serious, while the money just fills the government's coffers. (That's right; I said coffers.) And half the people in prison in the US are in there for drug offenses, so that's money being crapped away. But, that's a tirade for a different day.

Hmm, that was a tangent, wasn't it?

KFC Bowls

I'm a man who is not picky when it comes to food. I'll eat almost anything for the most part.

That's why it's especially shocking that I was repulsed by something I saw on TV the other day. From Kentucky Fried Chicken comes the new KFC Bowl.

A quick description: "Freshly prepared with layers of your KFC favorites - a generous serving of our creamy mashed potatoes, sweet kernel corn, bite size pieces of all-white meat crispy chicken, topped with our homestyle gravy and 3-cheese blend."

Don't get me wrong; I enjoy all of those things. But together in one bowl I find it to be a disgusting blend.

Perhaps I should keep an open mind (much like I did with herring in sour cream and cow testicles, of which I'm a huge fan of both now), and maybe I should give a Bowl a try.

But at this point, it's in the same category as Crystal Clear Pepsi and green ketchup. There just seems to be something wrong with it.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Slow Motion

My cousin writes for the Georgetown Hoya, the student newspaper. He is a sportswriter, and in my opinion, he is ridiculously good. I am a humble man, but I have to be honest: I'm jealous of his writing skills.

Well-written and eloquent, yet easy to read. THAT is the key in my opinion. If your writing is readable, that's pretty much the whole battle.

Here's his most recent article: Easy Choice is Sometimes the Best Choice

Here are the archives if you want to check out his old articles too.

Keep kicking some ass, Chris. Good stuff.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

computer game(s) of the week

I've been playing these games intensely for the past week or two (at lunch only, of course). They are very rudimentary and simple to play, but quite addictive at least for me.

Mini Putt - my low score is a 20 (16 holes in one). Supposedly 18 is possible, but I find that VERY hard to believe (holes 8 and 17 are the ones I can't sink in one shot).

Mini Putt 2 - I just started into this one, but this sequel is much more intense than its predecessor. The original is a par 48; this version is a par 70, with some very unforgiving holes. Currently, my best score is 26 (attained on May 5, 2006).

Good luck, and sorry if I affect your productivity.

Friday, April 21, 2006

Amish kid at the Wright City rest stop

I was traveling to St. Louis two weekends ago to see the family and take in a Blues game, among other things, when I stopped in Wright City, Missouri (about 40 miles outside of STL) to relieve myself. (I'd been hitting the Rooster Booster pretty hard, and had had about 72 ounces over the course of the trip.)

I was approaching the restroom when I saw a kid proceed inside. He was probably ten and he was wearing what you might call very traditional garb. (Later, I saw that he met up who I assumed to be his mother and sister. They wore bonnets and long dresses. I was guessing the family was Amish or Quaker.)

So I head inside and do my thing. He's also at a urinal, and he's occasionally staring over at me (which I don't mind; as long as it isn't constant staring, I'll give kids a free pass). He finishes a bit before me and heads over to the sinks. He stops and seems befuddled.

It's one of those sinks where you stick your hands under and it lathers, rinses, and dries all at once. At this point, I'm just assuming he comes from a farm somewhere that doesn't have the newest microwave or high-speed internet access. But that's besides the point. If I hadn't seen this type of sink at the KSU Student Union before, and I was only ten, I'd be just as confused.

So I made my way to the sink and proceeded to use it like I finally learned how to (it took me a couple times). I'm not the type to call things "cute," but let's say as he proceeded to imitate me, it was an amusing situation. He watched my every move; I pretended I didn't see him, though I did. From soap to dry, he followed my lead. I left before he did, as he was still finishing up drying. I caught sight of the family as I left the rest stop to get back on the highway.

Every once in a while, a little incident like that brightens your day and give you a good story to tell.

LEAP

I consider myself conservative in general. There a few issues where I lean to the left.

One of those issues is illegal drugs. I'm not a druggie by any means. Who's to say if I've ever even tried any drugs? (It shan't be dissimenated in as public a forum as this.) While I can understand why drugs are outlawed, the simple fact is this because they are outlawed, it is created a black market worth billions and billions of dollars.

The past few weeks, a group has been appearing in the news, making public speaking appearances, and so on. Their name is LEAP, or Law Enforcement Against Prohibition. Their site does a good job of explaining what they're about.

Their viewpoint and ideas are absolutely mind-blowing and seemingly ridiculous. Basically, they feel because prohibition of illegal drugs has failed so horribly (and it seems it has, at least from what I've read or observed), a drastic change should occur. ALL illegal drugs should be legalized. Then, they should be regulated and treatment instead of incarceration is what money would be spent on. At least, I think that's the gist of it.

I know one thing would happen. Legalization would destroy the black market; prices would plummet. The entire drug distribution chain would be drastically affected. That, in and of itself, seems like a positive outcome. Cheap drugs for all, though, especially the deranged and addicted, poses a whole different set of issues.

I don't see this group ever getting very far, but perhaps people said the same thing about alcohol when it was prohibited for a time. In the end, perhaps it's just an interesting read. But, it sort of makes you think, "Hmm, what if?"

loathing dogs

I don't mean to offend dog lovers, but I've come to the recent conclusion that I loathe dogs. And, you know, I'm sure yours is the perfect dog, but I'll tell you the ones that stick in my mind.

It's the ones that live on every side of our new house that bark constantly the second they see you or someone walking down the street. It's the ones that jump up on you ten times, even though their owner tells them each time to get down or sit or whatever. It's the ones you hear about on the news that are ripping at the throats of 3-year-olds and 80-year-olds (usually it's pit bulls).

I know that I'm generalizing. And I shouldn't. I've met some find and upstanding dogs in my day. But it's not just dogs that can't behave. It's what dogs have done to the human race. Or perhaps we've done it to ourselves.

We dress these asshole dogs up in clothing. They don't need clothing. There are doggy ice cream treats on the market. And on and on.

And while I first heard it from Jerry Seinfeld in his stand-up act a while back, he makes an excellent point. If visitors from another planet came to observe Earth, they would see dogs leading humans around and the humans are picking up their shit. He posed the question: who would the aliens think were the dominant species?

Some people border on being slaves to their dogs and it amazes me. I know that you have to give time to your dog, or it will be one of those misbehaving psycho dogs, but it seems like a delicate balance could be found. But what do I know?

I'm a hamster and fish guy myself. (Ah, one of the neighbor dogs is going on one of his barking binges. Perfect time to end my post.)

Hit on

I was driving to St. Louis with Gretchen three weekends ago when we stopped in Columbia, Missouri for some gas at Quiktrip (a fine establishment). I got out and began to pump my gas. All of a sudden, this dude on the other side of the pump, filling his car, says to me, "Nice car." It took me a second to realize he was speaking to me, mainly because I was driving Gretchen's 2003 Honda Civic. No offense to Gretchen and other Civic owners, but a Civic just isn't the type of car that one gets complimented on. My pump stopped and I got back in the car.

I didn't pick up on anything until Gretchen piped up and said, "Was that guy talking to you?" I said yes and he told me I had a nice car. "I think he was hitting on you," she said. I thought a moment and then all the pieces fell into place. Yes, he WAS hitting on me. The guy was scrawny, with glasses, and you could consider him slightly effeminate. Our squeegees awkwardly met at the water bin hanging on the column. He complimented me on "my" Honda Civic. I was hit on by a gay man.

This is not a problem at all. I think it's happened a couple times before. And trust me, I'm flattered. I'm either good-looking enough or gay-looking enough to be hit on. I'll assume good-looking. (When I think back, when I said, "Actually, it's my fiancee's..." that probably sent the no-go signal to the guy. Who knows where it would have ended up at that point? Sharing a taquito, perhaps, Lady and the Tramp-style?)

Friday, April 07, 2006

top 5 lists

Tagged by Jackie:

In the kitchen:

1. fry cooker (Gretchen makes good fries, in lard mind you, not oil or some weak stuff like that)
2. Sasha Poell(American Family Insurance agent) letter opener - I much prefer the clean slice of a letter opener as opposed to just using a finger; it's just so messy
3. pen and pad of paper - I'm a list-maker, and that's what's needed to, you know, make lists
4. self-propelled electric can opener - I put the can in, start it, WALK AWAY, go do something else for five or ten seconds, I get back, and BOOM, the can is open for me
5. pictures on the fridge (including me and Gretchen, me and my niece, Olivia, and my freakishly large football-playing younger brother)

In the closet (various closets, I should say):

1. CDs that aren't in my car (most of them are good; some I regret ever buying, but that'll happen)
2. old print issues of The Onion
3. a box fan (I prefer to sleep with a fan or something else that makes a calming noise)
4. solid-colored t-shirts (green, black, and brown, among others)
5. tennis shoes (i have a old pair for lawn mowing, etc., a kind of new pair for casual wear, and a new pair for b-ball and v-ball)

In my bag (or briefcase really):

1. my planner (I can't stress that enough)
2. current issue of The Onion
3. current book I'm reading (in this case, Under and Alone by William Queen, this badass who went undercover in a motorcycle gang and then busted a bunch of them -- it ain't deep reading, but I'm fascinating by crim e books and things like that)
4. my fancy leather portfolio (trust me, it impresses people -- only mine was only $9.99, yet still impressive)
5. my business card (currently saying Mike Postiglione, Estimating, someday to say ESTIMATOR)

At the office:

1. my computer speakers (on which I listen to the Wildcat 91.9 online most of the time)
2. my ScrabbleGram and Onion daily desk calendars (as an aside, here's an interview with John D. Williams, Jr., Executive Director of the National Scrabble Association)
3. every color of highlighter (used during drawing take-offs)
4. daily to-do list (created in Word and printed out at the end of the day)
5. digitizer board (where take-off is done; it's actually kind of fun, believe it or not)

At home:

1. a bottle or can of thrifty beer (say, Milwaukee's Best Light or Natural Light)
2. my computer (a lot of entertainment from one box, that's what I always say)
3. my leather recliner (recently acquired from Gretchen's cousin's grandparents, and it is comfy)
4. my bed
5. foosball table (working on becoming a master, but I have a ways to go)


I tag Chris R. and Eric W. if no one has yet, anyway.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

musicians I wish I'd seen and BOB HUGGINS

The following is a list of musicians I wish I had had the chance to see (and the past tense I use in the case of a few of the still active bands or musicians refers to them in their prime, b/c i just have a feeling that some of them just ain't the same today as they were 30 years ago):

Blind Melon
Jimi Hendrix
Bob Dylan
The Who
The Beatles
The Band
Pantera (I've seen them twice, but not until '99 and '01 -- just an electric show)

There are others, but they don't come to mind at this point.


I must admit that I am thoroughly excited about Bob Huggins becoming the new coach of Kansas State basketball. He has an amazing win percentage over 25 years of coaching (I think about .750). He's going to bring awesome recruits to the school, and K-State is going to become really good at basketball, which I think a lot of people had just come to accept wouldn't happen for a long time.

Others bring up his questionable past. He was asked to leave and his contract was bought out at the University of Cincinnati. This probably stemmed from several incidences involving his players and a DUI he has a few years ago. Seeing a timeline of his career might make one a bit skeptical of his character.

Yet, I trust him to do the best job he can do at coaching. I won't worry about his past, as checkered as it is, if he makes K-State basketball a success, which everyone is saying he will. It will be interesting to see how he pans out. Will it be more of the same? Will thug life transcend on Manhattan? Will there be another drunk driver on the road (just what Manhattan needs)? Only time will tell.

The Kansas City Star has a lot of related articles to this legitimately huge story. See the right side of the page for those.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Chef - NCAA tournament - house

Isaac Hayes, who played Chef on South Park, quit the show a couple days ago. He stated that he was tired of the show’s "inappropriate ridicule" of religion. Matt Stone, one of the creators of the show, countered beautifully. He pointed out that Hayes never had a problem when the show made fun of almost every other religion out there, along with gays, pedophiles, and other easy-to-ridicule groups. They recently did an episode lampooning Scientology (which if you ever read up on, you realize it is a really weird religion or group or whatever you might call it). Isaac Hayes is a Scientologist.

No matter how you slice it, this looks bad on Hayes part. It seems that he’s either bowing to pressure from the higher-ups in the church of Scientology, or he is one of the biggest hypocrites in recent memory. The term “double standard” doesn’t do the whole situation justice. “Oh yeah, mock those stupid Mormons, Christians, Jews, and whoever else you’d like. I’ll go along; I’ll collect my (probably) millions. Oh, wait. You’re going to make fun of Scientology? My religion? I have a problem with this.”

Talk about burning a bridge. While I’ll always respect him for the Shaft theme song (and Chef was a pretty funny character too), this is really a black mark on his reputation. And it might not have been, but Matt Stone went ahead and called him out on it.

I think I might get more excited about the NCAA tournament more than any other sporting event during the year. There’s just something about it. I think it’s the single-elimination aspect combined with the ever-present possibility of a big upset. Even the selection show, where you see which teams slip in and which teams get the big stiffy, is an interesting part of the process.

My favorite two days of the basketball year are tomorrow and Friday, when it’s just wall-to-wall basketball on CBS, with several games going on at once. Unfortunately, now that I have a job, it will be hard to catch the 11 AM to 5 PM shift. Back in the good ol’ days of college and high school, I could either skip class or watch it on TVs in the classrooms (if it were study hall or an especially lax teacher). And, I really don’t pay that much attention to college basketball during the year, save for K-State or what I see on Sportcenter, but when it comes to basketball in March, it just has this allure, even if I don’t really have a predilection towards one team or another.

Gretchen and I closed on a house yesterday. We are officially homeowners. This, of course, is exciting and frightening at the same time. It’s good, though, that we’ll finally be investing in something instead of just blowing money on rent. Yet, now I’m responsible for fixing stuff, mowing the lawn, and all that other business. Nothing I can’t handle, but more to handle nonetheless. Here’s a few pics.





Friday, March 03, 2006

follow up to the boob-grab story

This just article just came out about 30 minutes ago.

If you recall, at the Golden Globes, some gay fashion designers grabbed Scarlett Johansson's boob after she arrived at the show. She's finally spoken out about it.

Red carpet groping no fun, star says

I guess the headline is a double entendre in itself, now that I look at it. Though she isn't a redhead. Anyway, I digress.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

my office

Some of the women in my office light candles in their areas because they enjoy the smell.

I also have a couple of (free) candles that I brought into the office. There are two reasons I did so.

One, there are times, usually in the early morning, when my body tends to emanate some rather off-putting odors. So, the scent of the candle masks this smell, to some extent.

Secondly, I place the candles on a shelf that is clearly visible down the hallway that leads to my office. This way, it serves as a beacon or warning light to those approaching. "Proceed at your own risk," it subtly reveals.

Slowly, people are realizing what the candles are there for. No, it's not because I'm a "fruit," to quote one of my co-workers. Funnily enough, the few who haven't caught on yet include the ladies in the office who are regular candle users. They visit me every time they spot the candle lit, to either compliment how well my candle goes with theirs, or to check what scent it is today. If they only knew the rest of the story...

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Matisyahu, estimating, hoops, Pete and Pete

Two weeks from today, Matisyahu comes to Kansas City for a show. If you haven’t heard of him yet, you probably will soon. He is a Hasidic Jew (this a conservative form of Judaism; he wears the long, uncut beard and will not perform on Friday evenings or Saturdays, out of respect for the Sabbath) who performs reggae. While this kitschy combination is a part of his appeal, his music is very enjoyable. Only recently has his popularity begun to surge. A song of his recently broke into the top ten at a lot of radio stations. (The irony of this is that the song just came on the radio as I wrote this.)

I plan on attending the concert on March 1, as I’ve heard his live show is rather exciting. I also hear, because of his Jewish background, that the crowd is an eclectic mix of the “normal” concert crowd, along with an older Jewish audience. This could be because the content of his music is very faith-based. A few others have expressed interest in attending, and I think it will be a fine concert experience.

I’ve been at my mechanical contracting job for about seven months now and it is still interesting. This bodes well thus far. I’m still learning new things everyday, but with the educational background I have (and the mechanical background that I lack—thank you very much, Environmental Systems I through III), this is the way that I will have to go about it. And I don’t take for granted the opportunity that was offered to me (a mechanical contracting firm hiring an architectural graduate; trust me, architects aren’t spoken too highly of in this office). Anyway, the head estimator has moved back by my office, and this was a beneficial development, I believe. I can walk in and see what he’s working on, and he stops in frequently to see how my practice is going. (I’m practicing on old jobs and then comparing my results to his original estimate.) In due time, the title on my business will change from “Estimating” to “Estimator.” Mark my words.

For the past few Thursdays, I’ve been going to play some pick-up basketball with a co-worker of mine (the estimator mentioned above, actually). Usually, ten or fifteen guys show up. I usually try my hardest when playing sports, be it during a practice or a championship game, so that counts for something in this case. Meaning, I’m probably one of the least talented, basketball-wise, on the court. I mean, I’ll dunk on someone’s ass every now and again, but I’m not fundamentally sound overall. Nevertheless, it’s been good exercise and I enjoy playing. In a way, it brings me back to the glory days of Team Scorch! basketball (if by “glory days” I mean the one season we played and ended up 0-5, being outscored an averaged of 35 points a game, including our inaugural game where we lost 107-31). Yet, I still enjoyed intramural basketball, even if it wasn’t our most successful of Scorch! teams.

And, I’ve recently received DVDs of the old Nickelodeon show, The Adventures of Pete and Pete. I got Season 2 for Christmas, and just received Season 1 for Valentine’s Day yesterday. I don’t know if anyone else used to be a fan, but this show takes me way back. The great thing is that I enjoyed the show when I was a kid because it was very strange and funny. But, now, as I watch these episodes again, I realize there’s really another level to the show that I had no idea was there the first time around. (I sort of equate it to Scrubs in that sense; a show with very goofy humor in general, but that has a serious message somewhere within each episode, no matter how strange it gets) Not to get overly analytical about a TV show, but there aren’t too many shows that just break the mold of your average 30-minute television show. Pete and Pete is one; My Name is Earl, Arrested Development, and Scrubs are a few others that come to mind. Good stuff. Here's one fansite: The Adventures of Pete and Pete

(As a quick and bitter aside, Gretchen and I watched the last four episodes of Arrested Development to be shown on Fox. They were on last Friday. And it really is a sad day when a show as great as this one is ended (at least on one network; there are rumors that a few others might pick up the re-runs or, optimally, new episodes), and crap like Wife Swap, American Idol, and Will and Grace is still on the air (personally, they aren’t worthy of the italics I normally give TV shows and movies). It’s a funny, intelligent show that I don’t think enough of the public gave a chance, nor did Fox extend any effort whatsoever in advertising and marketing it either. A sad situation that I hope turns out for the best. Here’s a fansite with some info about the show and its undecided future.

Friday, February 03, 2006

great (and appropriate) Onion article

I was in Target yesterday evening and I saw the new Fusion razor (not sure if it's Gillette or Schick or whoever). It has FIVE blades and a SIXTH blade on the back for trimming hard-to-reach places. This is getting out of hand, really. When will it end? I use the Mach 3 with aloe strip and it is awesome. It works really well, and I don't have what you'd consider a tough beard to shave. But they're going to have to stop with the blades sooner or later, and I really thought four was where they would max out.

Anyway, it reminded me of an Onion article from a year or two ago that's one of my favorites. It is hilarious. Fuck Everything, We're Doing Five Blades

Thursday, February 02, 2006

football, USBs, meth, Carl Sagan, and the Hogan Family

The Super Bowl is Sunday. And I'm really not that interested at all. It's exciting in and of itself, because it's the last big game of the season. Both teams are trying really hard. Yet, I'm not really a fan of either of the teams, nor do I want either of them to win (for one particular reason or another). Like last year, for example, I wanted the Eagles to win, because I didn't want the Patriots to win again. This stems not from their dominance in prior Super Bowls, but because they beat the St. Louis Rams in the big game a few seasons ago. (Yes, I hold grudges.) Anyway, this year, there are none of those petty reasons. So, I'll watch the game, probably have a brew or two, but am I filled with anticipation like I usually am? Not really.

I saw an intriguing article online yesterday. It was entitled "Top 10 Weirdest USB Devices Ever." It was an enjoyable read. See the article here. My favorites were the USB George Foreman Grill and the heated gloves, mainly because they are so ridiculous in nature. I wouldn't necessarily want a grill that close to my computer, and the heated slippers make a lot more sense to me than the gloves (mainly because it seems like gloves would hinder typing, and to me it seems feet get colder more often than hands). Honestly, I don't find the vibrator to be that odd of a USB device, because I'm sure plenty of individuals could find many different things to do with a computer and a vibrator.

There was also a sobering story I read yesterday. I had heard rumors that Stephanie from Full House had become a meth addict. Apparently, this is true. Jodie Sweetin was on Good Morning America on Wednesday officially coming out about it. Here's an article about it. It's actually an interesting story. She had become bored after not acting for a while, so she took up methamphetamines to pass the time. Then, some of her old Full House castmates held an intervention for her when they found out. I'm glad she's doing better. She used to be my favorite girl on Full House (probably because she was closest in age to me). I don't mean to slight Becky, D.J., or the modern-day Olsen twins. Because they are also attractive. Anyway, the moral of this story is most drugs are very dangerous, and should be steered clear of.

Segue to this very interesting website a friend referred me to. Dr. Lester Grinspoon is a very enlightened thinker. I enjoy his ideas and insights. His website has some very enjoyable reading. One of my favorite essays in the "read" section is the essay entitled "Mr. X" which was later discovered to be Carl Sagan, one of the most badass astronomers in the history of the world. See his writing here. I'm not a liberal thinker in very many ways. This is one exception.

And, my friend Bryan sent me a link to this totally AWESOME site, Retro Junk. It takes you back to the good ol' days of the 80's and early 90's. My favorite section of the site so far is where you can view all the intros to the 80's sitcoms. The Hogan Family, ALF, Muppet Babies. A nostalgic tear forms in my eye. It has tons of other interesting content too. I haven't even delved through it all yet. (Hmm, did I use "delve" properly? It's nagging at me a bit.)

PS - Check out Carl Sagan's unbelievable documentary "Cosmos." It was originally on PBS. I got it on DVD (in a seven disc set). It is mind-blowing. Buy it here if it tickles your fancy. Here is a link to Sagan's website too, if you're interested. (I think he died about ten years ago, unfortunately.)

Friday, January 27, 2006

a blog by any other name would smell as sweet

It’s been a substantially long time since I’ve posted, and I make no excuses. I’ve been pretty busy at work, which is good. When not at work, I’ve been dealing with tons of paperwork related to, among other things, the house Gretchen and I are getting, homeowner’s insurances quotes, taxes, and wedding things. And I’ve been trying to catch up on my reading, since I have a pile of 20 books or so to get through, along with the weekly newspaper and monthly magazine I receive in the mail. And I have to get in a game of online Scrabble every now and then. But again, I make NO excuses.

There were a lot of big sports stories this past week. One of them was Kobe Bryant scoring 81 points in one game against the Raptors last Sunday. It was the second highest total in a game ever. That is a LOT of points. At this point, the debate rages on. Is he a selfish ball hog, or one of the greatest players of the current generation? Though compromise is not allowed in this day and age, I’d say it’s a little bit of both. He needs to get the ball and shoot a lot to be able to score 81 points. And he definitely shoots a lot. Even though he was lying, he said after the game that all he cares about is the win. And in a way, that’s true. So what if comes by 6 people all chipping in 10 or 15 points, or one guy putting up 50 or 60? A win is a win. Kobe haters say, “He’s so selfish; he never passes.” He had two assists that game. Yet, Kobe is a shooting guard. He shoots. He isn’t a point guard. They pass the ball, set up the plays, and run the team basically. But go on and criticize him for doing his job. I think he is an arrogant jerk, who cheats on his hot wife (though he didn’t sexually assault that chick in Colorado; he just picked a psycho broad to mess around with). So, while his moral character is questionable, he plays basketball very well. We could judge Kobe and hold him to a higher moral standard because he’s a celebrity, but why do that when there are probably a hundred cheating maintenance men and florists in Kansas City as I write this? Athletes as role models isn’t the best idea, but for every asshole out there, there’s a genuine nice guy for the kids to look up to also. And I think most kids are smart enough to figure out who the bad apples are and who aren’t.

I’ll tell you what was ridiculous. Isaac Mizrahi grabbing Scarlett Johansson’s breast at the Golden Globes, that’s what’s ridiculous. See the video here. I don’t care how gay you are; you don’t go grabbing people’s breasts, penises, or taints. The stupid commentator woman justified it with that simple reason. He’s gay, so he’s allowed. Well, I guess it’s fine if I go grab a dude’s groin, since I’m straight. “Oh no, don’t worry, man. It’s cool; I’m straight, so we’re fine.” Ridiculous. Isaac Mizrahi’s got a lot of growing up to do. Way out of line. I don’t think it would be right for a woman to grab another woman’s boob. There are a couple of forums where breast-grabbing is acceptable: engaged in sexual activities (of course), in the operating room (implants, etc.), and perhaps in adult-oriented entertainment (say strip clubs, for example). Again, “acceptable” and “appropriate” are two different terms. While strip clubs aren’t necessarily the classiest of places, I find it much more appropriate that a dirty paying customer grabs a stripper’s breast than when Mizrahi did it on live television outside the awards show Monday night. And, it wasn’t a big deal. It seems like Johansson took it all in stride. I just thought it was a bit presumptuous to go ahead and grab her teat, that’s all. (As an aside, I enjoyed it the other day when I heard Dan Patrick, on his ESPN radio show, say, “Scarlett and her two Johannsons looked good the other night.”)

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

litigation

Society's litigiousness in this day and age absolutely enrages me.

Get your piece of the pie some other way, assholes.

My anger stems from a new book out that I'd like to read called "The True Stella Awards" by Randy Cassingham. It's a whole book about the ridiculous lawsuits you hear about in the news every now and then. The "Stella" referred to is the original idiot who sued McDonalds because she spilled her coffee, burned herself, and claimed it was too hot. The coffee was too hot. (After reading a bit further into the story, while I don't know the final outcome of the lawsuit, I did learn that McDonalds admits it heats its coffee to 180 degrees or some extreme temperature, so that people can't finish it all in one sitting, and keep coming up for refills. I assume it's aimed at all the elderly tightwads who frequent McDonalds for a 6 AM breakfast and 2-hour newspaper reading session.)

But it seems this knee-jerk reaction is prevalent in today's society, and while at times it's reasonable, for the most part it seems to be an irresponsible and greedy attempt to profit from an unfortunate situation. And, again, there are some instances where it might be suitable, but this book is filled with the ones that I'm sure will get your blood boiling and leave your mouth agape.

In other news, Gretchen and I just signed on a house. I guess there's no turning back now. Honestly, though, it's exciting. Oh, and I got a foosball table for Christmas, so I'm learning how to play foosball better now too.

Alright, back to work for another hour and a half. Have a good weekend.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

to phree or not to phree

That is the question.

I stumbled upon this section of the website last week. Want to be a Writer?


I had always assumed it was similar to the Onion, where there was a certain group of hired writers and that was that. But, apparently, there are hundreds of contributors across the country that submit stories every week. (See the Contributors section for that large list.)

So now I wonder, do I attempt to submit some stories to the Phat Phree? I've always enjoyed everything I've read on the site. Inappropriate and sexually-tinged humor is right up my alley. But can I produce something they'd be looking for? I guess it's worth a shot. It isn't for the money (they don't offer any) or the fame (I prefer to avoid the limelight); I just think it would just be cool to see a submission by me on one of my favorite sites. The only other catch is "We also want people who are interested in contributing regularly," say the editors of the Phat Phree. I can't guarantee that would happen, as infrequent posts on my blog might illustrate. In the end, I was pondering sending something in, but I thought I'd get everyone's two cents on the issue.

PS - I thank Brad K. especially, because he introduced me to the Phat Phree about a year ago. It was a beautiful moment indeed. Also, it's Brad's birthday tomorrow. Happy birthday. Loser.