Animal Crackers

I love the week before Christmas. The last of my shopping is complete. Snow is still fun. Trading Places is on TBS. Life is good.

Life was so good yesterday that I decided to take a break from work and grab a bag of my favorite cookies to get into the yuletide spirit. Actually, I don’t know what category frosted circus animal crackers falls under but I found them in the cookie aisle so I am calling them cookies.

So I when I got home and cracked open the bag, you can imagine my surprise when I found this gem of a frosted circus animal cracker.



Here’s another nice piece of shit. Seriously, what the hell is this creature?



Ditto for this little guy. Is that a dorsal fin? Since when were sharks allowed in the circus?


If you thought these few monstrosities were a fluke, think again.



The whole bag was filled with pink and white frosted blobs of God knows what. With sprinkles. If I were I kid, I would be disappointed. Hell, I’m an adult and I’m disappointed. This is just plain lazy. You can do better than this, Nabisco.

Roundabouts: When People Stop Acting Polite…and Start Getting Real

Roundabouts. Believe it or not, I see the utility in these God forsaken things and I am actually learning to like them. At first I thought it was just because I thought it was hilarious to yell, “Look, kids! Big Ben!” every time I entered one but even after the novelty of that wore off, I still find myself liking them.

I know I know, the audacity! What is liberal-leaning Ben going to support next…High Speed Rail from Madison to Milwaukee!?

Not likely. Don’t get me started on passenger rail in Wisconsin, that’s not why we’re here today.

Roundabouts are the new wild west of the roadways. In the past 6 months, I’ve seen three roundabouts get constructed between my work and home so I’ve gotten quite astute at observing the nuances of these things. There are three basic approaches to a roundabout.

1.) No Holds Barred

These people typically drive an SUV or truck and chuckle at the idea of yielding before entering a roundabout. Yielding is for pussies, they think. So is signaling. Think of a bully or any asshole you knew in High School and I guarantee they take the No Holds Barred approach to roundabouting.

2.) Normal-Style

Slower than No Holds Barred, occasionally yielding, but still no signaling.

3.) Yearning of the 4-Way

There are plenty of people that yearn for the golden days of the 4-Way stop sign and these people gots to go. You mostly see them in front of you during rush hour. They are the ones that make a complete stop because they see another car coming from 3 miles away. Then we have to sit there for five minutes because there is inevitably a procession of cars going No Holds Barred style next.

When you eventually get through said roundabout, it is almost automatic that you will get stuck behind this same person going 50 mph down Highway 41 in the left lane and preventing you from passing, further exasperating your patience. At least they signal though.

My point here is that you have to be AGGRESSIVE out there, people. Be a man, take what is yours! The whole idea of roundabouts is to prevent the waste of energy from stopping and starting your vehicle, so look ahead and punch that gas, let the other guy slow down, do whatever it takes to prevent outright stopping and for the love of God, signal when you exit the roundabout so others have a chance to punch in there. Together we can make roundabouts work.

Well maybe not the roundabout in East De Pere by the bridge, that one is a real boondoggle. The new one on Ashland and the exit of Highway 41 though…that one is inspired.

The Gift of Not Gift

Many of you are probably starting to scramble for holiday gifts, which consequently involves parking debacles, long lines, and poor service when you go shopping. Navigating the mall this time of year is not fun to say the least.

But it doesn’t have to be so difficult. This year, consider the idea of getting someone a Not Gift. For example, one of the best Christmas presents I ever gave my parents was when I grew my hair out for a year in 2003 and then got a hair cut for them for Christmas. I gave them the Not Gift of not having a son that looked like a hippie.

Now I realize it’s too late to grow your hair out but maybe consider growing a shitty beard for the holidays and then having it shaved Christmas morning for your loved ones. Unless of course, you grow an awesome beard which is a gift to the entire world. I can only grow patchy Amish neck beards, so my Not Gift could potentially have a lot of clout.

I’d like to take moment here to declare a Not Gift for Jess. We are celebrating our one year anniversary this Saturday and I want to commemorate the occasion by retiring my brown leather jacket from my wardrobe. Apparently Jess never watched Charles In Charge growing up because she doesn’t seem to realize that brown leather jackets are cool. Nobody’s perfect. At any rate, I know she will appreciate the Not Gift of not being seen around town with a brown leather jacket wearing boyfriend.


But before I do [Tear] I’d like to say one last goodbye to my old friend before decommissioning this well-traveled, well loved article of clothing.


Here is a great picture of my college buddy, Pete, having a grand old time with the brown leather jacket. Look how proud he is to be seen with me! I think this was in 2004.


Me and the BLJ on Full House Mountain in San Francisco back in 2007.


Me and BLJ have spanned continents together. Here I am bringing my coolness to Australia, hanging out with the armor of Ned Kelly in 2009. Notice his armor on the left is leather clad and almost the same color as mine. He was ahead of his time.

Ahhhhhhh good times. You will be missed BLJ, you will be missed.

Jess, I know you are reading this so now I am going to make it official: I will never wear my brown leather jacket again. Period.*












*Except for my birthday, whenever you are out of town, and weekends. Love ya, babes!

Free Packer Viking Tickets and Dane Cook Reviewed

Here are the steps needed to take to get free tickets to the upcoming clash between the Pack and the Vikes next Sunday.

1.) Download this picture.



2.) Print it out on 100 t-shirts (no caption, the pic speaks for itself), let’s say at 5 bucks a pop
3.) Drive to Minneapolis on Nov. 21
4.) Set up shop at the Metrodome parking lot
5.) Sell said t-shirts for $15 apiece
6.) Take the $1000 profit, buy some scalped tickets, use the rest towards beer, food, gas, and if there’s money left over, treat yourself to a Caribou coffee.
7.) You’re welcome.

Of course this all contingent on Brad Childress having a job next week, which is a 50/50 proposition but if the Vikes manage to eek out another win and Childress manages to cling on to his job for another week, you better believe the people of Minnesota are going to be clamoring for Brad Childress rape van t-shirts, this much I can promise you.

Then again, my first foray into novelty t-shirt sales was a disaster. If you don’t believe me, you can ask the garbage bag full of navy blue t-shirts that simply say “43,560” across the chest that’s gathering dust in my closet right now. I really thought they would be a hit at a real estate analyst conference I went to a few years back. They weren’t.

I wanted to use a Brad Childress rape van as a transition into my next bit, a review of the Dane Cook show last night at the Resch Center. How are the two related? I’ll get there in a moment.

First, I thought the warm up comedians provided more laughs than the main event. I don’t know if it was because they were funnier or because I had to pee pretty much the entire time Dane Cook was performing but in the future, I am going to avoid slamming an extra large, spiked Dr. Pepper before any show with limited opportunities for bathroom breaks.

Second, when the warm up comedians were finished, there was video introduction that went on a little too long followed by, not kidding, at least 20 security personnel to escort Dane on the stage which I thought was excessive and a little pretentious.

The show itself was pretty good. Dane Cook is a hell of a story teller and a pretty good singer too, surprisingly. The rendition of the Revenge of the Nerds theme song at the end was particularly inspiring. And his routine was all new stuff, for me it was anyways, although it was very familiar to his other routines in the past.

In general, the show was exactly what I expected except for one thing. He did not pander to the audience one time. No references to Lambeau Field, no references to Krolls or Stadium View or some local establishment, no references to anything. When I pay for $30 for a comedy show and $15 on top of that for the mafia extortion Ticketstar fees, I expect to be pandered to, at least a little bit, or else I feel ripped off.

At the end of the show, Dane and the three other comedians did a musical finale where they sang this chorus (that’s still stuck in my head) “that’s probably a bad idea” and then they took turns doing one liners, most of them referencing their previous comedy bits. When they got into this rhythm, I immediately thought of all the local or immediately topical jokes ripped from the headlines they could have done during these riffs.

If Dane or any of the other comedians did some research or even picked up a newspaper, they could have said something like, “hiring Brad Childress to coach your football team”, followed by “that’s probably a bad idea” and BOOM the crowd would have went berserker, I know they would have, and they could have ended on a high note. Pandering accomplished, on to the next town. But they didn’t and that’s kind of a bummer.

Headlining Entertainers coming to Green Bay, DO YOUR HOMEWORK. We like references to us. We like Packers and drinking and putting cheese on stuff. The stereotypes about us are true. It shouldn’t be THAT difficult.

Stuff I listened to in Middle School is NOT Classic Rock

I was listening to the radio the other day when all of a sudden “When I Come Around” started playing on 93.5 WOZZ. At first, I thought, sweet, they are playing Green Day on the classic rock station now. Then I thought, oh shit, they are playing Green Day on the classic rock station now.

First of all, I’m all for Green Day becoming part of the classic rock canon some day. I mean who doesn’t love the wild shirtless lyrics of Billy Joe Armstrong? The bong-rattling bass of Mike Dirnt? The competent drumwork of Tre Cool?

But you shouldn’t be classified as classic rock if you are still actively making music towards your original core demographic. Green Day still successfully fills up stadiums for teenagers, just like they did back in 1994, therefore they don’t even meet the bare minimum standards of classic rock.

To be eligible for classic rock designation, your band should to have break up and get back together a few times, unsuccessfully reinvent yourself at least once or twice, release a few albums that flop on the billboard charts, disappear completely for a few years and then eventually wind up on the Indian Casino and County Fair touring circuit. If you get booed for attempting to play some new stuff, you know you are classic rock.

Then again it could just be me that is out of touch with what is going on in the music industry. On the way to work today, I heard not one but TWO of possibly the worst lyrics ever committed to song.

The first one, I’m sure you heard before but you probably didn’t realize how lame it is. “Party on the White House lawn, wake up Barack and Michelle and let ‘em know that it’s on”.

I actually like the song “I Like It” before this part, hell I can fist pump like the rest of them. In fact, I basically invented the fist pump, it's one of my signature moves. If you see another Jersey Shore-based music video that features head bobbing and extreme shoulder shrugging, you know they are copying me.

But I cringe every time I hear the part about partying with the president, not for the politics, but I just don’t understand why a song about youth, having fun, and partying would want to associate itself with the most authoritative position in the free world. It’s the extreme opposite of rebellion. I can think of about a billion more places to party that would be more fun than the White House. The corollary to this would be like having Lady Gaga write a church hymm. No, thanks.

The other lyric I just heard today and boy was it bad. It sounded like Pink and I don’t know the name of the song but at the end she utters something to the effect of “too school for cool.”

I shit you not. Somebody thought that lyric was a good idea. Lame. Super lame.

I was so frustrated in the car, I almost tuned in to AM talk radio. That’s how bad it got. It doesn’t help that Green Bay has God awful morning talk show personalities. That John Maino on WIXX is a real darsh, someone needs to be an ambassador for microphones everywhere and get a restraining order from him on their behalf.

In the meantime, let’s keep Green Day where it belongs, on 105.7 and 106.7. And play more Offspring too, while you’re at it.

Election Day and Brett Favre's Dong

Election Day is tomorrow and you know what that means? No more stupid political ads on TV, can I get a hoo-rah!?

Unfortunately, that will probably be the best net result once the election season is over, regardless of what candidate wins. I use the term “win” loosely because all the candidates are losers. Nothing is going to change and that is frustrating.

I really like the idea of the Tea Party and their ideology but our current political system will inherently eat them alive. The problem with politics is that some of the very best ideas involve making a hundred million people a teeny tiny little bit better off at the expense of pissing off a disproportionately small but vocal and sympathetic group of people.

For example, if I were in a position in power, the first thing I would do is abolish the penny. Seriously. I’ve explained this before. I would save the American people a buck or two in taxes because pennies are subsidized and cost more to make than they are actually worth and make all Americans a wee bit better off because everyone hates pennies because they smell worse than my the roof of my dog's mouth.

But then two things would happen. Either 1.) someone would write a newspaper story about all the penny factory workers losing their jobs and they would picket and everyone would feel sorry for them and vote me out of office or 2.) the powerful zinc and copper lobbyists would cut my campaign funds and back some other pro-penny candidate and I would be voted out of office. Either way I lose so I end up adding a rider to some useless bill mandating the expansion of our penny factories across the country. Sucks.

Of course this is all hypothetical. If I ever ran for office, I’m pretty this picture I got tagged from facebook over the weekend would surface and derail that pipedream pretty quickly.



Sex Text Favre will be a tough one to bounce back from, not going to lie to you. It’s unfortunate, because my only crime is being really clever at coming up with topical Halloween costumes. Or obscure movie characters from the 80’s. I’m good at that, too.

The other travesty is that I think I have the political experience and acumen to really make a difference if I ran for office. Most of you probably know that I was the first student council president of Danz Elementary School in 1992. I can’t remember if I ran on a platform of budget constraint and fiscal conservancy or putting the principal in a dunk tank booth at our annual carnival but one thing I know for sure; I ran an effective administration then and I could do it again now…all the way to the White House.

But Facebook is going to have me by the balls so what is the point? How is our generation ever going to be taken seriously when running for office someday? I guarantee Facebook has some server storing every picture ever published in order to blackmail our generation when we eventually sober up. How else is that thing going to make money? It ain’t from selling banner ads for ironic t-shirts, that is for sure.

My guess is that Joe Daniels is going to end up running the country, since he is the last man standing on Earth without a Facebook account. May God help us all.

In the meantime, get out and vote tomorrow, and if you really want to make a difference, thank a policy maker for saving you and your future kids a couple of bucks in taxes (if they are making difficult budget cuts). They could use your support. Complain about pennies, too. And watch Walking Dead on AMC, it’s an awesome show and I don’t want it cancelled.


Here's a nice picture of me and my girlfriend and my big fake wang hanging out. You can't tell here but I was wearing crocs. Those stupid things cost $30 bucks! Totally worth it, though.

We are the Champions!!!

Ok, kids, here comes another post coming at ya from work so I have to keep it short. If you are reading this at home, I recommend you put Metallica’s Hero of the Day as background music to set the mood.

What What In The Butt remained undefeated last night, clinching the Ruby League Cup, and achieving immortality as the greatest Kickball team in the history of Green Bay in 2010. Woo Hoo!!!

We played, by far, our most challenging opponent last night. The ensuing battle can only be described as LEGENDARY. We gained a quick three run advantage and then basically clinged on to it for the duration of the game.

And like I previously alluded to, it all came down to the coaching. Knowing three runs would not be sufficient, I coached Matt Pearson in the fifth inning to make this spectacular jump, doing the splits in mid-air, to narrowly escape a throw at home plate. That run was the deciding factor that eventually won the game for us.

I’d like to give a special shout out to Greg Altmann for calling up Matt earlier this season to invite him on our team. Matt would eventually become the MVP during the post season. Way to go, Greg!!!

I also coached my players to catch various pop fly catches in the infield and outfield as well as coached our pitcher, Ben Zimmerman, to throw various strike outs throughout the game. Whenever a player got a base hit, I coached that too. There were flashes of Lombardi out there, I’m not lying.

Unfortunately my actual play was sporadic at best and I missed an easy catch at first base that set the opposing team up for a two run comeback in the last inning. But we prevailed, making bitter enemies with the opposing team in the process, but nuts to them, we wanted it more and that’s to be expected when you self umpire your own championship game.

I’d like to give special thanks to Jessica MacGregor, Nicole Denis, Renee Heraly, Karin Adams, Jamie Baierl, Greg Altmann, Ben Zimmerman, Matt Pearson, Blake Main, Jenny MacGregor, Beth Bartolazzi, Maria Cornette, Brad and Martha Johnson, and everyone else that subbed or came out support the team. Same time next year.

What!? What!?



Team photo post victory. I brought Champagne but having never won a team athletic competition in my life, did not know what to do with it. Apparently you shake it up and spray it on everyone in a celebratory fashion.



Also, not to distract from our glorious victory, but look at this goofy sign put up in front of the new roundabout near my work in Appleton. Who were the wizards at the WDOT that came up with this clear and decisive traffic directive???

Brett Favre: Pervert or just a kid showin' off some dick tricks?

I am at work right now and do not have a lot of time to blog but I just feel it is of the utmost importance to define my stance on the current Brett Favre situation.

For those of you living underneath a rock, the mainstream media has recently picked up a story from Deadspin.com regarding a certain legendary quarterback sending racy text messages and pics to a sideline reporter during said legendary quarterback’s brief stint in New York. My gut reaction was that ESPN was merely using the story to boost ratings for tonights Monday Night Football match up. I figured if the story had real teeth, the media would have jumped on it a long time ago.

But now the NFL is investigating Brett Favre’s conduct and he himself has twice acknowledged the story but refused to comment on it. This non-denial is sort of an admission of guilt in my opinion. Also, the images and sound bites on deadspin are pretty incriminating.

But then it suddenly dawned on me the most plausible scenario. Like Occam’s Razor, it is the simplest answer and therefore the most likely to be correct.

Brett Favre was showing off some dick tricks.

There. You heard it here first. First, it is a common fact that ALL women love a good dick trick and Brett Favre was new to the area so he probably wanted to showcase his other talents in order to build commaderie with the Jets organization. Second, the deadspin article only featured photograph stills, for all we know Brett Favre may have been about to show off “the brain”, “the bulldog”, or possibly “the hamburger”. Third, it explains the non-denial. Because our puritanical society will not allow open, public expression for our universal fondness for genital origami, he was forced to hide rather than embrace the current situation.

I hope you all keep an open mind on this subject going forward. I realize there is small chance that Brett Favre might actually be a perverted old man and is guilty of reckless sexual harassment but the guy also won a Super Bowl for us for God’s sake. Let’s all pretend he was showing off a reverse “windmill” and call it a day, shall we?

Wheel of Misfortune

This last weekend was pleasant yet unremarkable. I spent some quality time with the gf which included a screening of Eclipse which was easily the least God-awful of the Twilight movies to date. But that may be due to the fact that there was a blindingly bright exit sign adjacent to the screen at the De Pere Cinema Café that diverted my attention away from K.Stew’s or T. Laut’s inability to act or express any emotion whatsoever on the big screen, which in my opinion, probably helped the movie. In any case, it will be my turn to pick the next movie so I hope Jess is excited to see the new TRON.

The most exciting thing to take place last weekend was our tryouts to be on Wheel of Fortune. The Wheel of Fortune mystery bus travelled through Green Bay last Friday to find contestants for the show. The setup was like this; you filled out an application, then they randomly selected names to play a mock game on stage. Every person that got picked had to do a brief interview on stage with Marty, the mock host, at which point they played one puzzle and competed for door prizes. They crammed in as many people as they could for an hour.

The idea is that they were looking for exciting, interesting locals to be contestants on the show, hence the short interview. It did not matter if you solved the puzzle or not. The most interesting people would get selected for another audition in Wisconsin, and then finally/hopefully be an actual player on the show in California.

It was clear within about 5 minutes that the audience did NOT grasp this concept. Marty started every interview with “tell me something interesting about yourself.” The universal response was a mumbled “I worked at this place or have been retired for x many years, been married for y many years, and have z amount of children.” The other common response interest was a love for the Green Bay Packers.

First, that’s great that you’re married and have kids, that is arguably way more important than anything going on in my life, but the idea was to say something interesting to separate yourself from the herd. Secondly, no shit you love the Packers. Everybody in Green Bay loves the Packers.

The only original interview came from this 85 year old guy, who was visibly confused and didn’t know where he was. He was by far the most memorable because Marty had to ask him three different times if he was ready to play Wheel of Fortune where he eventually shrugged yes and shuffled off to the rest of the contestants. I can’t wait for dementia to kick in for me, it looks like a real hoot.

I was so pissed they didn’t call my name. I had the perfect setup in mind. First I would talk about my undefeated kickball team, then I would mention my expertise in Wheel of Fortune from my hours of practice from playing the 1992 Super Nintendo version, and then finally mention my dog named Cheese.

Marty would say, “That’s’ a funny name, how did you pick that?” Then I’d say that I wanted a Wisconsin specific name, but naming him Beer Belly just sounded cruel. Buh dum pish! Cue audience laughter annnnnnnnnnd that’s a wrap. Get this guy on the show asap.

I would have made a hell of a contestant. I envisioned me and Pat Sajak going out for beers after the show, I really think we would have that kind of rapport. But my name was never called and therefore I am forced to use my great jokes in this blog instead of for cash money prizes. Bummer, maybe next year.

What? What? We're Undefeated That's What. In The Butt.

It’s ten past midnight and I can’t sleep. I’m too excited.

What? What? In The Butt just capped off the regular season UNDEFEATED. What is even more impressive is that we have shut out 4 of our last 6 opponents in an epic battle for a first place seed in the upcoming championship playoffs.

These victories did not come cheap. These victories cost us a broken finger, two season ending ankle injuries, one horribly scabbed knee, the relationship with my girlfriend almost, countless bumps and bruises, lot’s of blood, sweat and tears, and there was a $340 entry fee.

Was it worth it? Absolutely. Do I think it’s dorky to ask myself rhetorical questions in blog form? Not at all.

If you saw the Lynn Swann-like catch by Matt Pearson in right field tonight, you would totally understand. If you saw Greg Altmann playing like a young Todd Zeile at third base, you would totally understand. If you saw all the ladies tonight collectively rack up a higher batting average than the dudes tonight, you would totally understand.

PS all our ladies tagged up properly tonight, can’t say the same for some of the dudes on the other team.

Now I don’t want to say that my coaching was ALL of the reason we went undefeated this season but it’s pretty close. My expertly drafted batting orders, strategic field positioning, and charismatic leadership is probably responsible for at least 86% of our victories but that’s only a guesstimate.

Knock on wood, I shouldn’t have written that last paragraph. I don’t want to jinx the team. I already took a gamble by not benching my starters and letting them rest this last game when we were already locked into the playoffs.

But then again, the Colts had a shot at immortality and they blew it along with their momentum going into the playoffs last year. Those who do not study history are doomed to repeat it. Once again, we circle back to the awesome coaching mentioned earlier.

If you are a reader of this blog and the owner of a professional kickball team and seeking new management, you know how to reach me. Ditto if you are NFL team owner. Unless you own the Buffalo Bills, then I’m not interested.

Ok all, I’ll be sure to give you an update as the playoffs progress. We have a bye week next week (apparently there was a damn near mutiny in the league last year when they tried to schedule league play during the Packer Viking MNF game) and then round 1. The timing is perfect, it will give me several weeks to crash diet in the event that my team wishes to hoist me on their shoulders in victory like that lovable Rudy.

Kevin Kolb. Does anyone know how to pronounce this guy's last name?

I’ve never been more excited for a football season since forever. I can’t explain it. I don’t whether it’s because of the hype surrounding the Packers Super Bowl prospects or because of my sweet fantasy football drafts, or because I love gambling on football but one thing is for certain, I am pacing around the house as we speak waiting for the Packers to trounce the Eagles and I’m loving every minute of it.

I know I sound like a broken record but fantasy football seriously changed my life. Conversations with me about football before Fantasy Football primarily consisted of me debating if Favre played a great game or merely a very good one. I could care less about any other game going on in the league.

But since I started playing fantasy football about four years ago, I’ve got a ravenous appetite for insider knowledge to give me a leg up on my ff playing brethren. Now you’re more likely to debate the pronunciation of Philly QB Kevin Kolb’s last name and whether he merits to start in a ff fantasy football line up with me rather than your typical Packer banter.

Is it pronounced like Cob or like rhymes with Bulb? No one knows. It’s a big secret apparently. Either way, it was a heavily debated topic the other night at Anduzzi’s which soon delved into whether or not Kevin Kolb looks like me from a side angle.

Which he does FYI.

Another thing that boosted my love of football is buying numbers at Cropsey’s. Numbers are the best form of gambling ever. Any game with numbers involved is no different that sitting at a slot machine. Your numbers are up, you experience a high, someone misses a field goal or something, your numbers are off and you experience the low. Ups and downs, wins and losses, the same brain chemicals are at work, the only difference is you can watch an exciting football at the same time and you don’t have to sit next to some hacking, chain smoking grandma for three hours. Bonus.

You also have some form of control with numbers. I can count numerous instances where I’ve mentally channeled Aaron Rodgers and willed the offense to get a quick score in before half time in order to win some bucks. I did that like three times last season alone. Trying doing that with a slot machine. It doesn’t work.

Lastly, the Packers are a hot Super Bowl pick and Brett Favre is still playing, all perfect recipes for an exciting NFL season. But if I can make a suggestion, I think we should all collectively not mention the Packers and the Super Bowl any more until we actually get there. It seems like every hyped team in the NFL preseason has never actually made it to the Super Bowl, it’s usually always a sleeper and the stupid Colts so let’s just all calm down a little bit and enjoy the season and not jinx our awesome team this year.



We all agreed last Friday that Kevin Kolb is like a younger, older looking version of me with similar shitty facial hair growing abilities and inferior quarterbacking skills.

I'm engaged...

…to 1943 Sandy Springs Road, DePere, WI. Well, Town of Lawrence technically, just north of the Highland Ridge golf course. In any case, the consummation is scheduled for the end of the month at which point I will be married to this location for the long, unforeseeable future.

Marriage is a lot like buying a house. You are pretty much saying, I’m not going to stray on you, municipality, I’m here for you for the long term. With commitment comes stability, a sense of community, pride of ownership, and most importantly, you won’t have to pack and move as much and I HATE packing and moving almost as much as I hate pennies, earwigs, and Packer bye weeks.

The downside of getting married/buying a house is that you also lose your freedom, which is scary for anybody, especially in this economy. You can’t chase new job opportunities, or conversely, your job choices are way narrower if you are stuck in one location. Plus property taxes are a bitch.

Sure, you can always cheat. I cheated on my old ball and chain in Madison when I temporarily moved into that hussy of an apartment in Los Angeles last year. I had my reasons though. My house wanted to leak in the basement during heavy rain. I DIDN’T want it to do that. It resulted in a three year, bitter entanglement going through multiple realtors before we were finally able to divorce.

That was a bittersweet day for me. Despite our differences over the years, I only remember the good times. [Tear].

The place I am getting now is kind of like hooking up with a super hot chick way out of my league because I pounced on her while she was crying at the bar because her way more successful, douche bag boyfriend just dumped her a few hours ago i.e. I’m getting a foreclosed property. With enough time, said super hot chick would find another more successful boyfriend to be with, but my timing was better and I picked her up when her self esteem was at a temporary all-time low. Hoorah for me, I’m like that Keith Stone guy.

My only hang up is that there is a musty smell throughout the house. In other words, my baby might have a Chlamydia infection. The doctor/home inspector is checking it out on Tuesday, if there is clean bill of health, I’m going to boat this bass.

I really like this house. It’s a got a big ol’ round, beautiful backyard, just the way I like em’. Feel free to interpret that last sentence any way you want.

Okay, so wish me luck, this is going to be a big month for me. Hopefully all goes well, and I can have a reception aka a house warming party soon. Full kegger.



My bride to be. I hope everything works out for us but I'm not worried. Like a lot of men, if I start making more money, I can always trade for something younger and better looking.

For Hire: Me as your Fantasy Football Draft Emcee

Oh man did you see that Packer game last night!? Minus the first Colts possession, the Pack looked undefeatable last night. When you get Peyton Manning pouting in the 1st half, you know you’ve done something right.

And our third string looks AWESOME which is good news in case during the Super Bowl this year (which we inevitably will get to) there’s a scenario where both teams’ 1st and 2nd strings are decimated by injury for some reason. We should still be good shape to bring home the Lombardi trophy. I just hope Kregg Lumpkin is at 100%.

Another thing that was done right was me drafting my Fantasy Football line up this week. This was the first time I ever got to pick first in the draft, which was really exciting for me. Well, technically I got to pick second but I believe Chris Johnson and Adrian Peterson are interchangeable, and both equivalent to a first round pick.

Despite my brimming confidence this year, I can’t help but notice the sharp decline in football acumen I’ve lost ever since I got employed and stopped watching ESPN for three hours every day. What do you mean Vincent Jackson is suspended for three games and holding out on his contract with San Diego!?!? Why didn’t you tell me that, ESPN player ranking thing!?!? Why did you keep it a secret!?!?

That’s okay though actually, I like to go after players with high risks and high rewards. Questionable injuries, advanced ages, unproven rookies…a fantasy football wimp craves not these things.

But I do. This is where you can find real value in a draft. Or fall flat on your face and limp into last place. I’m riding the VJ, Donald Driver, and Michael Crabtree train to either winnerville or losertown and Sidney Rice is the conductor. Choo! Choo!

FYI I would have taken Brett Favre to complete the boom or bust method but Tom Brady came my way and dammit all if I don’t think that new unbridled mane of his is going to be good for 70+ touchdowns this year. It’s almost enough to compete with Aaron Rodger’s 80+ touchdown dirty beard.

The draft was not only successful because of my line up but the hosting and commissioning of my league has never been better. Minus the two guys that missed the draft because I had the wrong email in their account. But other than that, I’m in top form.

You should have read all the hilarious comments I wrote on the message board during the draft. I haven’t laughed so hard at my own jokes in a long time. Like hours, maybe DAYS even.

I went with some tried and true ff material like mock-seriously asking if a recently retired player was still available (this year I went with Martin “Automatica” Grammatica) to referencing some obscure quotes from The State and Wayne’s World 2. My Pete Rose joke is fast becoming a time honored tradition.

I only wish the ESPN draft center would keep more stats that people care about. Like how long into the draft before the first “your mom” joke. (43 minutes…nobody seems to like Tight Ends. Your mom likes Tight Ends). Or how many times someone instantly responds to someone’s pick with simply "FAIL" even though you were cursing to yourself that you didn’t get him first. These would all be good things to know in order to improve on the next years draft.

Summer Movie Round Up 2010

Let’s see here…Inception was cool. That’s about it.

This post should be called the Summer of Weak Sauce 2010.

To be fair, the summer blockbuster schedule started off pretty good with Iron Man 2. It wasn’t great; it pretty much coasted on the charisma of Robert Downey Jr., but it was good, a perfect appetizer in May to get things going for the summer.

But the meat and potatoes of the summer mindless fun usually begins around mid June and culminates into some major badassery in July, a good comedy in late July for dessert, followed by the table scraps served up in late August. See the Expendables for an example on table scraps.

Again, back to Inception, that was a great flick, a helluva flick; totally original, thought provoking, a brain melting good time all around.

But it was NOT a summer movie. Inception is a course best served in late November/early December, where you immediately want to go to Barnes and Noble and have a hot cup of coffee and talk about it with your friends and read weird theories and Oscar buzz about it in the periodicals section.

A good summer movie is one where you want to give chest bumps to the other patrons as they are walking out of the theatre and then go have a beer and bask in the spectacle. There was none of that thus far. I think Scott Pilgrim Against the World has potential and thankfully Machete is just around the corner to salvage the summer but God help me if those films fail to satisfy my appetite.

Totally going off topic here, but I read an article today about how Return of the Jedi was originally supposed to have a bittersweet ending with Han Solo dying, the rebels left in tatters, and Luke riding off alone into the sunset but this ending was scrapped by George Lucas for the sole purpose of selling more toys. Now people hate him more than ever, even more so than after the releases of Episodes 1, 2, and 3.

George Lucas is like the Weezer of motion pictures. He gave the world this beautiful, beautiful gift and then proceeded to destroy every last remainder of goodwill through a cascading series of poor decisions to the point where his original accomplishment is all but forgotten. Come to think it, he’s kind of like Brett Favre.

Wait no, Favre is like the Weezer of football, and playing for the Vikings is like the album Make Believe.

You know what, I could do this all day. But for me, I still love the original Star Wars trilogy (and can even tolerate the Ewoks i.e. Maladroit), Brett Favre, and Weezer and NOTHING these dumbasses do going forward will sully their original accomplishments in my eyes.

All I really want is to see is one traditional kickass summer flick before football season starts and I stop caring. That’s my whole point, sorry it took like 12 paragraphs to get there.

Also, I would like to filmmakers to stop using CGI and go back to animatronics and puppets and also, I wish they would stop making those God awful spoof movies. Vampires don’t Suck. Producers who greenlight that tripe Suck.


They just don't make 'em like they used to. Gummy Bears! Gummy Bears! Sprinkles! Sprinkles!

The Keys to Kball

As many of you have gathered from my recent Facebook updates, I will be commanding an elite squadron of athletes for the forthcoming 2010 Green Bay Park and Rec Kickball League.

If you didn’t get the memo, I was toying with the idea of calling our team The Situation in honor of everyone’s favorite Guido but it just didn’t feel right and coming up with a team name is important, arguably the most crucial aspect of having a productive kickball season.

I’m not kidding. You show me a championship kickball team and I’ll show you a cohesive group of kids rallying behind a clever euphemism of the word “balls”.

And they will have matching t-shirts. That’s the other key ingredient. Matching t-shirts.

But we got both aspects covered. Greg proposed What? What? In the Butt and I immediately fell in love with the name. It’s got a catchy beat and it’s culturally relevant. Well I thought it was. Apparently the song is like three years old but it’s new to me so back off!

Shenanigans is sponsoring our team and supplying t-shirts. Mega.

The third component of creating a championship kickball team is coaching. That’s where its Benny’s time to shine.

After studying a variety of different managing strategies, I’ve decided to adopt a blend between famed Oakland A’s manager Billy Beane and legendary player, recently sacked, Argentina national team manager Diego Maradona.

On the one hand, Billy Beane’s use of sabermetrics greatly appeals to my love of spreadsheets and statistics, exploiting patterns in cold hard data against conventional wisdom to minimize outs and maximize runs scored.

More importantly, I really like the idea of having this conversation.

“Sorry, Greg, I have to put in a pitch hitter for you. Your On-Base Plus Slugging percentage tends to rapidly deteriorate after your third Busch Light.”

But more likely, I will adopt the Diego Maradona style of coaching where I will simply let my best players run wild all over the field and deflect any criticism if we happen to lose with wild and erratic off-field behavior like partying so hard as to make Keith Richards blush or repeatedly refusing to take phone calls from the president of the country.

This is by far the simplest (and most fun) coaching style but a lack of on-field discipline can lead to things like this. I’ll take my chances.

The fourth key component is getting everybody to understand the concept of tagging up. See this post for details. It’s still as timely as ever.

All this typing is getting me really excited. I live for kickball. I once hit 5 home runs in one game once. True story. Ask my old roommate, Pat. He was there. I know no one else is going to believe me.

Random Thoughts on a Random Day 7.27.10

I don’t have anything super great to comment on this week so I think I’ll just leave you all with a couple of thought provoking nuggets of Brain Litter that don’t warrant a dedicated post.

1. I’ve got the perfect idea for a sequel to Inception. Check this. It’s about a dream within a dream within a dream within a dream. Within in a dream….wait for it…Within a dream. Whoa.

2. I know it’s hip right now to hate the show Entourage but the focus of last week’s plot was a Ping Pong match between Drama and Uncle Jesse from Full House. If that’s not good TV, I don’t know what is.

3. Speaking of Ping Pong, here is a pictorial update from the front lines of Man Pong.



4. I’m thinking of naming my kick ball team “The Situation” but it’s tearing me up inside. The unpleasantness is caused from the hypocrisy of balancing my need to be on the bleeding edge of pop culture with my distain for reality tv programming. I wish The Hangover was still relevant so I could name my team The Wolfpacks but that is SO 2009.

5. What’s the deal with Fireworks shops? Why is there so many of them and how do they make money? The roadside stands near a gas station, those I kinda get, because you could set up shop for a few weeks around the 4th of July and be done with it but these big, elaborate, permanent ones really throw me for a loop.

I’m starting to think that maybe Fireworks shops are the bodegas of the Midwest for crystal meth. Follow my logic, I am acquainted with a fair share of recreational drug users and even they don’t mess around with crystal meth. Yet I know it’s really popular because they bust crystal meth labs all the time. So where do they sell it?

Fireworks stands. They are the perfect distribution points because they are always located near highway exits in the country where they make it. And maybe all the chemicals in fireworks throw drug dogs off the scent. I think I’m really on to something here. That is good po-leece.

Or maybe I just need to fix the radio in my car so I stop thinking about this shit. My mind has been wandering more than usual on my silent commutes lately.

6. I got a new phone number. I got tired of having to explain myself and my former 608 life every time I give out my number. 920-530-6388. I feel like a small part of me has died but I am sure that will change when football season starts up again.

Earwigs. Stupid Name. Stupid Bug.

I’d like to take a moment to rant about earwigs. I hate them.

The other day, I went to put a Netflix in the mailbox and three earwigs jumped out and attacked my hand. It sent shivers down my spine in the same way that picking up dog poop in the backyard after several days of heavy rain has matted it down to the grass. It’s an unpleasant experience to say the least.

At work yesterday, I went into a five minute trance just thinking about how much I despise those little creatures. I then googled earwigs to find more ammunition to hate them. It turns out that they have the gift of flight. Well that’s…just…GREAT.

Seriously, was God bored on the eighth day and decide He wanted to get creative and make the grossest bug possible? Elongated body? Check. Hard shell to make them difficult to squish? Check. A bunch of stupid legs and antennae? Check. Wings? Sure, why not? Let’s get throw some big ass pinchers on that cocksucker too while we’re at it and call it a day.

It’s ironic because I just finished a book that made me think about bugs in a whole new perspective. SPOILER ALERT (Don’t read on Joe and/or Dude) the book is Stephen King’s latest called Under the Dome, a destined to-be classic. Essentially the story is about a small town that suddenly gets enveloped by an impenetrable glass dome. The town’s corrupt official creates a police state and everything goes to hell within a week.

It’s later revealed that the dome was created by alien kids from another dimension that were just messing around, the analogy made in the book is that it was equivalent to a bunch of kids on a playground lighting an anthill on fire with a magnifying glass, but this time the town was the anthill. It’s entirely plausible if you think about. In any case, there were only about 20 pages of about 1,080 dedicated to the sci-fi aspect; it’s more about how the town copes being cut off from society. Awesome book, great summer read.

After reading it, I thought wow, I’ll never look an anthill the same way again. I’m just going to live and let live from here on out.

But I don’t think Stephen King had earwigs in mind when he wrote Under the Dome. I think he would agree that regardless of whether or not earwigs are capable of rational thought with complex societal structures, they are just too disgusting to not get squished with a ping pong paddle when I saw one scurry across the basement floor the other day.

The Big L

Commuting from Green Bay to Appleton really sucks, not because of the distance (which, does suck) but because of the ineptitude of most drivers that use that particular corridor.

I love my Wisconsin peoples but one thing we cannot seem to grasp is the idea of using the left lane for passing only. I've traveled many places in my day and nowhere is it more prevalent to see some turd burglar crawling along at 60 mph in the left lane while some other driver is going the same speed in the right lane allowing zero cars to pass until some dutiful soul (often times myself) does the courtesy of tailgating said left lane offender until they get to the right lane where they belong or worse, pass them in the right lane.

Notice a few select words I used in the last paragraph. First, I did not insult the slow driver in the right lane because I think it is perfectly fine to drive below the speed limit, that is your God-given, American right and I would not want to infringe upon that; just stay in the right lane where you belong.

Second, getting passed in the right lane is one of the worst things that can happen to you during highway travel and should be avoided at all cost. We seriously need to make this a major social stigma; like updating your facebook status with political rhetoric or recapping a meal you just ate.

Naturally, if you are forced to pass someone in the right lane, you are obligated to give them the stink eye but sometimes that just isn't enough because if that person is dumb enough to diddle away in the left lane, then they are dumb enough to not read your subtle glares.

That's why I think we need to come up with a new hand gesture to express our displeasure with passing someone in the right lane. I think the offensiveness level should be somewhere between the middle finger and the thumbs down.

The middle finger is just too harsh, we're probably dealing with an old person i.e. someone's grandma, and I don't like the idea of my grandma or someone else’s grandma getting multiple middle fingers on the way to church. Plus I think it has to be something completely new with only one, specific connotation.

I kind of like the idea of pointing your thumb and pointer straight out with your right hand in an "L" shape in conjunction with the stink eye. The left lane offender will see a big "L" pointed at him or her and immediately think the "L" stands for "Left", as in "oh shit, I am in the LEFT lane when I my slow ass should be in the RIGHT lane. Thank you, kind sir, for that reminder, I have learned my lesson and will not repeat it."

That’s what I would think if someone shot me the Big L if I were caught napping in the left lane, not that that would ever happen but I can conceive of a scenario of me driving down Highway 41 with the cruise control on in a trance-like state, Eric Prydz' Call on Me on repeat, where maybe, just maybe, some speedster doing 85 mph would pass me on the right. After the Big L was shot at me, I would nod and salute the driver, acknowledging my mistake, and then I would promptly move over to the right lane, never to repeat the mistake again.

Imagine all the collective minutes over time we could all add on to our lives if we just followed this simple rule! Plus the reduced stress! Let’s make it happen.

On a side note, if you ever seen a jeep wrangler on the highway with the top and doors off, it is very likely that sucker couldn't go 65 mph hour even if it wanted to unless it was travelling with the wind so ease up and be kind to our safety and aerodynamic hating friends, it’s not their fault they can't keep up with the flow of traffic....as long as they stay in the right lane of course.

Class Reunion Review

I’m super bored at work right now so I’m going to take a moment to reflect upon my reunion last weekend instead of trying to figure out the market rent for Class B office space downtown.

The beginning started off iffy at best. We showed up to Sidelines an hour after its official start and it was basically a dozen or so people lethargically sitting around the bar as if a funeral were in progress.

When I ponied up to the bar, I was praying that at any second a cheesy heavy metal riff would be heard and then two average joes with Hawaiian shirts and cool shades would pop into the party with coolers of ice cold beer and yell “we know what this party needs!” and then all of a sudden bikini-clad chicks would be dancing everywhere for some reason and everyone would start miraculously having a great time like some kind of cheesy 80’s beer commercial.

Yep , things were dire initially but then a lot more people trickled in, the music got louder, shots were had, the beer started to flow like wine and it just ended up being a really fun night in the end. No startling revelations, no harbored grudges, no coveting of my more successful classmates; it was just a good time with people I haven’t seen in a long time.

I hope more people show up to the next one, I don’t think there was enough representation from the sportos, motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wastoids, dweebies, or dickheads but, oh well, I’ll cross my fingers for the 15 year reunion.

It’s weird, I remember vividly thinking in high school that my 10 year reunion was going to be a really big deal and that all the choices I made in school were someday going to really pay off at that particular point in time. Well the jury is still out on some of those choices but I know now that setting objectives towards an arbitrary date 10 years into the future is a pretty dumb way to measure a goal. Remind me to tell my future kids that lesson. Nevermind, I’m sure they won’t listen.

If I had to make one suggestion for next time, I would make awards for the attendees. For example, if there was a prize for the most drunk attendee, I would have to award that to…nah, I can’t say it, I’m going to take the high road here, after all I am a mature adult ten years out of high school. I’ll keep my opinions to myself.

Ok, if you must know, I’ll give you a hint, I won’t say their last name but it rhymes with “fails”.

Double Play Tuesday: Wednesday Addition

I swear this is the last post from me for awhile. I just figure going through all this film footage over the past week is going to be completely irrelevent again for another 10 years after this weekend so I might as well get it all out there before the reunion.

The source material from all of the youtube clips posted over the last few days come from a few movies I made when I was in 8th grade, my Speech I Video, Altmann's Speech I Video, an assignment from Mass Media class, an assignment for German class, and an assignment for English class.

I know I probably got carried away with all this but I haven't had this much fun goofing around since creating my first hypercard stack after a session of apprehending that elusive Carmen Sandiego in the old computer lab at Parkview.

The best part about this next video is the bit where Greg filmed a bunch of people wearing 3-D glasses. Greg had incredible foresight to capture this footage back in the day. Let me be the first to tell you that you will never hear the words "greg" and "foresight" uttered in the same sentence ever again; need I remind everyone of the ATM incident of Winter 2010.

A few stray observations:

1. Please don't look for any cohesion or unifying theme in the following clip; just a bunch of people doing random things.

2. Joe Barrie and/or Woody could host a talk show today and I would watch it.

3. Somebody notify the Academy about my tear-jerking performance in Preppy Massacre. I haven't seen better acting since Brett Favre chewed the scenery in There's Something About Mary.

4. I'm not sure if we were really making fun of Servais or if it was for a class project.

5. I can't believe I got Antonio Freeman to be in my videos. Wait, maybe that was Ding. I can't really tell.

Ok, that's all I got. Sorry if you didn't see yourself, I had limited materials to work with and I tried to get everybody I could. Laters.

Montage Monday: Tuesday Edition

It's less than a week to go before the Ashwaubenon Class of 2000 gets together for...sigh...our 10 Year class reunion. It seems like it was only yesterday when we used to cruise around town aimlessly, looking for shit to do on the weekend.

Man, have things changed. Like this last Saturday...I...cruised around town aimlessly looking for shit to do.

Well some things may never change but I certainly look forward to seeing my old friends this weekend and drinking some beer. If you see me at Sidelines this Saturday, don't be afraid to come up to me to talk about Brain Litter. It's my favorite subject.

That being said, I got a couple of clips coming up that should provide some social lubricant between the awkward name forgetting and the stifling conversation disconnects between the "married with kids" people and the "people that haven't grown up at all yet" people.

Here is a montage of some of my greatest bits over the years when I was a young autuer. I highly recommend viewing this with the volume turned up. I know it's totally cliche but nothing really beats the 1812 Overture for good montage music.

Seriously, this thing ain't that funny without the volume.

Attack of the Ninja Alien

I bought a new Mac about a month ago because those clever Justin Long commercials finally got the best of me so now I am officially a cool, sensible Mac guy. I thought it would be an easy transition because Apple builds all their stuff so intuitively but it has been a rough start so far. In an effort to stream line their keyboard, they have eliminated some of my favorite buttons and moved them too close together which has been a frustrating ordeal to say the least.

But one thing those geeks at Apple have nailed is iMovie. Getting my old VHS tapes transferred to my computer was an arduous task but once I got them on there, I felt like a young Scorsese or a young Spielberg or even a young McG. I can only imagine the movies I would have made back in the day if I had access to this technology.

The closest thing I had to piecing together movie clips was doing a single take, stopping, then taping the tv screen of a different clip I wanted, stopping, and then resuming whatever nonsense I was filming at the time. It was bootleg but it got the job done. Now the editing is just click and drag. It could not be any easier.

For your viewing enjoyment, in a Brain Litter segment I like to call “Shit I Made With a Crappy Video Camera Before I Discovered Girls,” I present to you Attack of the Ninja Aliens.



Some of you may remember this video when it debuted in Ms. Prevost homeroom in 1996. The original version had no sound except for my mom yelling for Doogie at the end credits but I added sound effects to this version to complete the original vision that I started with. I tried to remain faithful to the mentality I had at the time. I asked myself questions like, “Would 8th grade Ben approve of a popping cork sound when the alien bites the head off the lego guy?”

The answer is a resolute yes. A thousand times yes.

Now before you cry foul and get all George Lucas on me for altering a classic piece of cinema, please be reminded that I totally would have added these sound effects if I had the means at the time. Also, I did not make Greedo shoot first and Jar Jar Binks is nowhere to be found in this film.

I’ve got a couple other videos that are going to make perfect additions to this new Brain Litter segment. If you were concerned that there weren’t enough people falling down the stairs in this last bit, rest assured, a montage will be coming to a future blog post near you.

Oh. And in case you were hankering for a futuristic version of Romeo and Juliet Act III Scene 1, a remake of the Tom Green Show starring Joe Barrie, or choreographed fight sequences from dudes who can teleport, then yup, you are soon to be in luck.

Sack Tappings: Public Epidemic or Really Fun Way to Pass the Time?

Extra! Extra! Todd Smells!

I’m sure you probably already knew that. But what I bet you DIDN’T know is that sack tapping amongst teenagers is on the rise. Don’t believe this me? Check it.

Injuries for "sack-tapping" on the rise, Doctors say.

I’ve got a lot to say on the subject of sack tapping.

First, sack tapping is a time honored tradition right up there with atomic wedgies, pitching somebody’s tricep-area arm fat to leave a big bruise, and getting bubble gum mashed into your hair and periodically having your pads thrown out of a backseat window on North Road while driving to football practice. These ancient rituals are a proven method to prepare boys for the real world.

Second, if you can think of a better way to punish the loser of a round of hacky sack then I would heh heh heh certainly like to hear it.

Third, don’t call it “groin-punching” because that makes it sound lame and it takes away all the fun. Acceptable names besides sack tapping are as follows: sack attacking, sack slapping, testicle tapping, nut knocking, roshambo, cup checks, or goosing (if getting sack attacked from behind).

Fourth, the article is bunk. If anything, instances of sack tapping are dangerously low. The accompanying pie chart in the article is a perfect illustration. Almost 70% of urologists are NOT reporting sack tappings. That is scary. What are these quacks doing if they are not treating sack attacks. Pulverizing Kidney stones!? Yeah right.

Fifth, there are positive signs that instances of sack tapping may turn around in the foreseeable future. I have extrapolated the emergency room data mentioned in the article between 2007 and 2009. The average increase year over year is 21% which should get us to healthy amount of sack tappings by 2030, God willing.



Sixth, this has nothing to do with the article but I found a wallet last night on the sidewalk downtown and I hoping someone would claim it. I took a picture and it’s posted below, you just have to scroll down because there is something wrong with my Google Blogger. The page breaks are all messed up…


































































BAM! Got you, sucker! You know what to do next…

Shout Outs to people, LOST and Shout Outs to LOST -

OK, this is going to be combo post dedicated to both LOST and to an official new Brain Litter policy where I’m going to give shout outs to anyone that gives me a compliment about my blog, because I have a big ego and it makes me feel damn good when someone says they enjoy my writing and I want to encourage that kind of behavior when I’m out and about.

For instance, I was talking to MICHELLE STEFENS the other night and she gave me a real nice compliment about how she once printed off a post to show a co-worker my ideas for Facebook relationship updates. I told her I would express my gratitude by having her Brain Littered with capital letters and a bold font.

Again, I was talking to VANG the other week at Cropseys and he too told me that he really likes my blog, especially the high school reminiscing I get into sometimes. So, to return the favor, I want to post this sexy picture of him from this one time we went up north.


The caption for this photo is “Sexy Vang SMOLDERS after presumably, a long, passionate night of love making. Sorry ladies, this side of beef is no longer on the market”.

See how this works?

ERIC KIVI gets one, too, he’s a long time reader, long time complimentor. Unfortunately, I do not have sexy photos of him I can post from high school. At least I did not put him at the nerd table on my middle school map of the lunchroom so I guess that is something to be happy about.

I wish Vanlieshout would compliment me more because I have LOT’s of good photos of him. Like this one.



Being roommates freshmen year does have its advantages, I must say. This picture must have been very important because this was taken before the digital camera heyday where you actually had to spend money to have something like this developed and then scanned onto a computer.

Okay, on to LOST.

I’m starting to like the finale a lot more now that I think about. I wish the show had a more ambiguous ending so it could be interpreted in different ways, but the ending was pretty cut and dry. Everyone lived happily ever after, and I guess I’m okay with that. I liked all the characters on the show and I like that they all got a shot at redemption so they could rest peacefully in the afterlife. We should all be so lucky. It would also be nice to have a cute yellow lab at my side when I realize the final truth. That’s the way to go.

I found myself spending a lot of time reading other people’s reviews and observations these past few weeks. I have devoted a lot of time and thought to LOST and I don’t want to say goodbye to it just yet. Between The Wire and LOST, these were easily the best two dramas of the last decade.

But I’m sure I will find something else to occupy my time. That Pawn Stars is pretty good. It will do for now.

I Don't Understand Porn for Women

So I recently read this article on MSN that said that pornography use among women has spiked in recent years and that support groups are forming all over the country to help women deal with porn addiction.

This made me really curious. What constitutes porn for women? It can’t be the same stuff guys like because the stuff guys like is misogynistic, devoid of emotion, and completely out of touch with reality. So I did some homework, adjusted my Netflix queue, and finally viewed some hardcore XXX women’s pornography last night.

I didn’t care for it. New Moon was rife with terrible acting, even more terrible special FX, it was super boring, it didn’t even make sense, and there wasn’t nearly enough sequences of vampires playing baseball. All and all, I give it six thumbs down.

Maybe I have to give the benefit of the doubt that the Twilight books are vastly superior to the films because it’s pretty much impossible to mess up the source material. Who doesn’t love vampires? They are attractive, possess superhuman abilities, they party all night, and they live forever. I get it. That’s cool.

I just can’t understand the appeal these particular movies have on teenage girls, their moms, and not teenage girls. Approximately 50% of the running time was devoted to people soulfully staring into each other’s eyes, another 40% was devoted to dudes not wearing shirts, and the rest was tensionless scenes of CGI cartoons fighting each other.

And why does everyone like Bella so much!? Sure, I wouldn’t kick Kristen Stewart out of bed, but it’s perplexing why everyone fusses about her so much. Her character’s total lack of charm and charisma is like a black hole in the center of the screen, she just sucks the fun right out of the room.

To me, all this sounds like a recipe for disaster but the numbers at the box office prove otherwise. I guess women’s porn is here to stay. When I complete my script for Jumping the Shark, I will be sure to incorporate a scene where a character stares out the window and emotes for ten minutes, in order to appeal to the ladies.

Oh snap, I just had a better idea. I’ll cast that tool Justin Bieber as a shirtless, singing vampire, and have him in there for some reason for ten minutes. Damn I should have been a producer! That, my friends, is what you call box office gold.



"Hey, want to go tanning?" Nope. "Want to smile at any point during this movie" Nope. "Want to keep staring at each other" Yep.

Conservative Talk AM Radio Versus Fingernails On A Chalkboard?

Do you ever get that feeling of dread right before going on a car trip with your dad because you know you’re about to get your ears blasted by full volume conservative talk AM radio when he starts the car?

I do. Like touching a doorknob on a dry winter day, you’re going to get jolted and there’s nothing you can do about it.

And I’m conservative too which is the weird thing. I can’t tell if its that low quality, tinny sound with the random pops and zaps that drives me nuts or just the fact that all conservative talk show hosts are obnoxious and rarely offer any real solutions and they are an embarrassment to rational conservatives everywhere.

Take for instance, that clown Michael Savage. My Dad and I drove up to Lakewood this last weekend and for a good hour, he rambled off crazy left-wing conspiracies off the internet on the cause of the current oil rig disaster off the gulf coast. First it was the environmentalists that sabotaged the rig. Then it was a North Korean mini-sub. Then it was Chinese ninjas or some shit.

And ALL of them were related to Barrack Obama somehow. Obama could cut taxes to zero % and declare a national holiday “Everyone Gets A Gun – You’re Welcome America Day” and those AM hypocrites would still find a reason to complain about him.

Sure, I’m up for a frank and honest discussion if Obama is leveraging our country to the hilt or severely screwing up our healthcare system but I don’t want to hear childish name calling and mindless rhetoric. I would even consider joining one of those Tea Party events if I wasn’t so afraid a Klan rally would break out immediately afterwards. But AM conservative talk radio is pollution and I can’t stand it.

The realization of my hatred for loud conservative AM talk radio made me happy because I realized that I am not as old as I thought. I know MTV doesn’t want me anymore but at least Rush Limbaugh doesn’t want me either.

That was the best age-related revelation I’ve had since I realized my own mortality back in the summer of 2007 when I saw the movie Sunshine in theaters. Man, you should of my heard my inner monologue during that particular screening, whew! Maybe for another post.

In the meantime, I’m going to keep on be-bopping away to pop music when I ride to work in the morning and continue my search to find ever elusive ways to insert monetary symbols into my name like Ke$ha.

Meat Is The New Bread!

Spring is here and the first day that is warm enough to walk around outside shirtless also commemorates the first day of working out season for me. But because of the shitty hours of my job, working out for me now entails eating less, which frankly is not very fun and but then again, neither is lifting weights.

So I’ve been eating like a damn rabbit on the weekdays of late but during the weekends I like to really cut loose in order to keep my sanity. This last weekend I got a little weird, a little wild, and ordered that quaint little delicacy they serve at the venerable KFC, you may know it as the Double Down.

I can’t explain my fascination with this sandwich. I keep thinking of some worldly foreign traveler coming to vacation in the States with an open mind, thinking the rumors can’t be true, Americans can’t all be a bunch of fat asses, and then seeing a commercial on TV promoting strips of bacon and two slices of cheese smothered in mayonnaise special sauce between two fried chicken patties and thinking Oh. My. God.

I’m not one to criticize something before trying it with the exception of shooting heroin and watching The Hills so I bought one on Sunday. Here it is.




I think it would have tasted better had I been wearing a ratty wife beater with barbecue sauce stains on it. You know, to set the mood. But in general, it was greasy, bland, it has scary mystery sauces, it was not that big for five bucks, and the guilt of eating the thing was just not worth the price of admission. Time to go back to the drawing board, Colonel Sanders.

The overall verdict?



While we’re reviewing fast food fare, I also got one of those new mochas at McDonalds. Also not good. This is going to sound crazy but it was just too cold. It hurt my teeth. What the hell is that about? And too sweet. Every sip felt like a freshly poured coca cola on a rusty nail. Starbucks, you got nothing to worry about.

And since I have no shame, I also tried that new western egg white omelette breakfast sandwich at Subway. It was good especially because you can get it on their flatbread, which tastes awesome. The downside is that you are eating at Subway, so you know you are going to be hungry again in about 45 minutes because the content and quality of their food, as we all know, is garbage. Don’t get the hash browns either, they are a joke.

Back to Blogging...Let's form a Poker Club.

Hey. I’m back. Sorry for the delay, I was interviewing for this really sweet job these past few months with this long and painfully drawn out interview process so I temporarily shut down Brain Litter in case some HR people decided to google my ass. I couldn’t take any chances losing out on my dream job because of my fondness for ranting about fast food and shit that happened to me in middle school.

But I don’t think I got the job so sucks for me. Well I don’t know for sure actually but my buddy got invited for a 2nd interview last Friday and I got no call back so I’m only 99% certain that I am totally f’d. I wish they would have the decency to tell me though. If I didn’t know my buddy got a call back, I would still be sweating this thing out.

So now I am stuck being a commercial appraiser for a time being. For those of you who don’t what an appraiser is, we are the culprits behind the economic collapse and subsequent recession we are experiencing right now. You see, we’re the assholes who valued all the real estate out there WAAAAAYYYYYY higher than it ought to be and thus got everyone loans for stuff way beyond the true value of the actual asset.

Well the bankers should have known better than to trust our bullshit reports…and the consumers should have known better for taking out loans they knew they couldn’t handle….and Wall Street had something to do with it too because everybody hates Wall Street. The institution, not the Oliver Stone flick, which rocks. I guess we should all be giving ourselves a big pat on the back for the fine mess we created.

Anyways, I’m back to blogging again so at least I got that going for me. And I’ve got really long eye lashes soooooooo BOOYAH!

Now that I am going to be in Green Bay for the foreseeable future and because summer is almost here, I would like to do the following things regularly:
1. Play Kickball
2. Play Volleyball
3. Play Tennis
4. Play Softball
5. Play Golf
6. Play Disk Golf
7. Play Poker

If anyone has a team out there, I would like to be on it. Or if anyone has interest in forming a team, let me know and I will start one. Or if anyone needs an opponent, l will play you. Seriously, I’d like to get a weekly thing going, summer is short and I like to be outdoors. More to come on these things as I research them.

My top priority is forming a Poker club that meets once a month like my dad’s club that has been meeting regularly for at least 20 years. For those of you interested, keep reading, otherwise, I’ll blog about something funny really soon….like that new Double Down monstrosity at KFC. That thing needed to get blogged about asap.

This was pasted in a mass email I sent out on facebook:

I would like to gauge interest in a potential poker club that meets once a month. I am currently in a club with my dad and his friends and they have a great system that I would like to expand on. Below would be the general guidelines to get the ball rolling. Let me know if you are interested or if you know anyone who might be interested.

• Ideally looking for 8 – 10 dudes that could meet once a month at a set time, say 6:30 to 11:30 the first Thursday of every month unless agreed upon otherwise.

• A different member would host the club every month.

• We would play Hi/Lo limit games that would include Omaha, Hold’ Em, Criss Cross, and other variants of the above games, that way we can accommodate up to 10 people and there would be lots of table action. Most likely we would have 8 people playing because there will likely be no-shows in any given month. No wild card bullshit.

• The stakes would be $1 betting with a 4 raise limit per betting round up until a certain time, say 9:00, and then increase the stakes to an optional $1-2 bet (dealers choice) with a 4 raise limit per betting round. I am open to different stakes if this sounds too high.

• Most pots will average between $15 and $40 dollars (and that would be split between high and low hands)

• With these stakes, the most you could generally lose in a given night is between $50-$100 based on my experience in my dad’s club, conversely that’s what you could generally win too.

• The host will provide food for the group up to $20 (frozen pizza, subs, hot dogs, snacks, whatever), which will be reimbursed that same night through a $1 rake on pots with an odd amount of money in it i.e. if there is a $25 pot, the high hand gets $12, the low hand gets $12, the host gets $1 up to $20. Essentially the winners of the evening pay for the food so you always get a little something for your money.

• BYOB

• That’s basically it, we can discuss more guidelines we want to make for ourselves the first time we play. I will host the first night.

Me, Vegas, and The Hoff

Ola amigos, sorry for the delay, I have been swamped these past two weeks which left me little time for bloggin’. Most notably, I spent the last weekend in Las Vegas, Nevada. I wish I had some crazy stories to bring back from my trip, but I have none so I’m just going to rant for a little bit and hope I can save you, the reader, a little bit of money the next time you are in Sin City.

The trip started off with a dubious omen. My plan for this trip was to be Mr. Too Cool For School when gallivanting around town and by that, I mean I wanted a slick new blazer so I went to Macy’s the night before and found this sweet Calvin Klein pinstripe blazer that was expensive but it was 40% off. The sales guy sold me when he told me I could save an additional 15% by opening up a charge card.

Denied. Which is impossible because I have awesome credit so that put me in a foul mood. I later found out it was because I gave them conflicting address information. Either way you look at it, I was down fifty some dollars and I hadn’t even rolled the dice yet. This would be the least of my worries.

The first night I lost $400. Fast. I played poker for a few hours and promptly got my ass handed to me. Then I lost 17 out of 18 hands of Let It Ride, which I’m pretty sure is statistically impossible. Then I piddled away a few bucks playing roulette and craps and then went to bed around 2:30 am, ridiculously early for Vegas time but it has been a long day.

My only consolidation was that some dude told me I had a slick blazer at the craps table. At least my plan for looking like Mr. Too Cool For School was panning out.

The next day I foolishly took the over bet on Wisconsin (it was only 115, a lock in my opinion) and made some other crazy parlay basketball bets that never came to fruition. Then I lost another hundo playing this goofy blackjack variant. The highlight of the day was discovering Earl of Sandwich. That place makes awesome sandwiches.

It was now time for me to consult the ATM machine. Denied. Again. For reasons unknown and that I still need to figure out but, in any event, I had to take a cash advance on my credit card which only cost a teeny tiny surcharge of $37. I would never advise this course of action under any normal circumstances, but it wasn’t like I was just going to hang out and not gamble for the rest of the weekend.

So I ended up paying the fee and played a four hour session of $3/$6 limit Hold ‘Em at Planet Hollywood. I walked away from the table with negative five dollars, a clear and resounding victory for me. Plus I saw…yep, you guessed it, David Hasselhoff. He was hanging out in the bar right behind me. The place went nuts, he took a bunch of pictures with some fans and then presumably went back to his hotel room to drink whisky and eat whoppers. I guess the stars really do hang out at Planet Hollywood.

Exuberating Teddy KGB-like confidence from my negative five dollar bonanza, I walked back to the Aria where I set up shop at the $9-$18 high/low Omaha table where me and $150 quickly parted ways. A word of advice, never sit down at a poker table with solemn looking guys peering behind huge stacks of chips and looking like they are not having any fun whatsoever. The guys at that table were clearly local sharks and I was their meal for the evening.

Feeling like my luck couldn’t possibly get any worse, I tried to turn things around at the craps tables where I immediately crapped out three times in a row before ever hitting a point. I ran away from the table before getting my ass kicked. The minimum bet was $25 and there were at least 8 people at the table, I effectively wiped out $600 in value in less than 2 minutes. My bad luck was spreading.

This was a new low for me. I know I was going to lose money on the trip but not this fast and not without winning a little in return. I was getting irate about everything. I was annoyed that the hotel was too big and you had to walk 10 miles to get anywhere. I was pissed that my friends were split up most of the time and we didn’t go to any shows or anything. And most of all I was disgusted with the idea of gambling. It’s a dirty, sinful, rotten business which is why these casinos need to be so glitzy and spectacular in order to disguise the fact that they are openly robbing you. I was depressed and I wanted to go home and I still had one more day to go.

Of course the next day was a blast. I ate a kick ass breakfast, hung out pool side, rode the roller coaster at New York New York, ate cheese steaks, and most importantly, finally won a five hour poker session playing with a bunch of locals. I made a $170 of pure profit, I was playing smart poker on top of hitting a lot of big river cards. I was unstoppable.

And that’s what Vegas does. Just when you are about to swear Vegas off forever, the force that is luck gives you a little nibble and you are already planning your next trip. Such is life.

One final tip, the smartest way to gamble and drink in Vegas is to play low limit poker. You could theoretically just throw in your blinds and get really drunk over the course of a few hours. The waitresses are really fast in the poker pits. Plus you could sit around and wait for pocket aces and have your tips and antes paid for on no-brainer hands. You’re welcome.