Tuesday, June 14, 2005
I was in line...
for over 15 minutes at TJ Maxx today, and there was only one person ahead of me. They had a pair of swim trunks that apparently didn't have a price on them. So, they had to have a manager come over and do a price check on them. Now, if you don't know, a price check in TJ Maxx involves going back to the many clearance racks and seeing if there is another of the item. When there isn't another one, they kind of guess at a price. So, they ask the woman if she'll pay 12 dollars for them. And the woman says they look like 10 dollar trunks. But the manager is adament that they are 12 and this woman will only pay 10. I was about two seconds from grabbing a Jefferson out of my pocket and throwing it up there to end all the madness. If I hadn't found the sweetest Twins hat in the world, there is no way I would have kept waiting there. They should offer some sort of snacks to those people in line, so everyone isn't bitter and partially homicidal when they get to the register. Something to think about. Maybe.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Possible Homersexual...
I was walking around the pond near my casa this morning when I noticed something I had never seen before. Right in front of the pond, in a prime pond-watching space, was a swing. Which only makes sense, because if you're going to watch a pond, you want to be in a prime spot. What makes this swing different than any other swing I've ever seen was that there was a metal rainbow above it.
That's right...this was a swing specifically dedicated to homosexuals. Now, I'm not judging anyone and what two dudes (or superior hot-chicks) do in the privacy of their house. The problem arises when we start segregating the homosexuals and the straight people.
This is very reminicint of the 50's. It's like segregation all over again. Now, I admit, this isn't as big of a problem as there was in the South, but this isn't right. I don't think I should have to sit in an unprime location if I want to watch the ducks on the pond, just because I'm not gay. Hopefully the City of St. Louis Park will look into this issue and either construct a completely new swing in a comparable location and vantage point or they will take down the "Rainbow Swing" and stop this injustice for our citizenry.
That's right...this was a swing specifically dedicated to homosexuals. Now, I'm not judging anyone and what two dudes (or superior hot-chicks) do in the privacy of their house. The problem arises when we start segregating the homosexuals and the straight people.
This is very reminicint of the 50's. It's like segregation all over again. Now, I admit, this isn't as big of a problem as there was in the South, but this isn't right. I don't think I should have to sit in an unprime location if I want to watch the ducks on the pond, just because I'm not gay. Hopefully the City of St. Louis Park will look into this issue and either construct a completely new swing in a comparable location and vantage point or they will take down the "Rainbow Swing" and stop this injustice for our citizenry.
Saturday, June 11, 2005
St. Louis Park Town Meeting
I parked my car in the near vacant parking lot at Lenox Community Center. I looked at my watch to make sure I wasn’t early. I wasn’t. It was 6:55, right on the dot and the monthly St. Louis Park Town Meeting was scheduled to take place in 5 minutes. I reluctantly got out of my car and ambled towards the center. I opened the door and followed the signs that said “Town Meeting this Way!! Go Town Meeting!!!” Apparently, the person who made the sign’s enthusiasm did not carry over into the actual meeting.
I walked through the threshold of the door and saw a teacher’s desk at the front of the room. A tall man was seated behind the desk, wearing a judicial robe and staring at the heavens, as if waiting for a sign.
In front of his desk, there were eight kids school desks lined up in two rows of four. These are the kinds of desks we had in second grade, where you lift the top and put all your folders, pens and silly putty inside. I wasn’t sure I would be able to fit in one of them, but it didn’t look like I was going to have a problem finding a seat. Only three of the desks were occupied at the moment. I snuck into the back left desk and looked to the man on my right.
He appeared to be homeless, but I can’t say this for sure. There’s also a chance that he just likes to carry around a ton of “treasures” in a bindle and smell like a combination of rotten eggs and burnt toe jam. He was wearing a Mets hat, so I thought I’d reach out and make conversation with one of my fellow St. Louis Parkiacs.
“Hey, did you see the Mets signed Beltran? I’m not sure it’s so good for him, but it’s great for the Mets. I hope he can handle the pressure in the Big Apple.” I said, putting on my best “please don’t shank me homeless stranger” face.
The man slowly turned his head towards me. It was at that moment I realized he was wearing an eye patch. He must have the same feeling I do; the eye patch is going to be the Trucker Hat of 2005.
Apparently he couldn’t see me very clearly, because he never responded to my light banter. He reached into his desk and pulled out a flask full of Evan Williams. He took a mighty pull out of the bottle and put the flask back into his desk without even offering me a tug. So much for camaraderie. He then proceeded to lay his head on his desk. I was going to ask him another question, but the man in the judicial robe banged a green, over-sized, novelty hammer on the desk. Apparently that meant the meeting was starting.
“OK, thank you all for coming,” started the man in the judicial robe. “As you probably know, I am Judge Clarence Witherford and I preside over these monthly gatherings. I also sell life insurance and we all know you can never have too much life insurance. Am I right? Right? Right, right, right?”
I looked around the room, wondering what in the world possessed me to make my voyage here. The homeless man to my right hadn’t moved yet. I think there is a possibility he has died and moved on the next life. The way this meeting is going, I kind of envy him.
The woman seated in front of me looked exactly like Jessie Spano from Saved by the Bell, if Jessie Spano were 4’11”, 300 pounds and black. This woman probably could have started for the Broncos. If I had to describe her in one word, it would be “powerful”. This woman was looking straight ahead and taking notes. I think she was writing down every word the Judge was saying.
The man seated at the end of the front row raised his hand.
Judge Clarence “You’re recognized Barney.”
“Thank you, sir. My name is Barney Smith and I want to present the first order of business. Proposition 14H-T. ‘To change the St. Louis Park High School mascot from the Oriole to the Mocking Bird.’” said Barney.
“Very interesting. Could you please make your argument?” The judge seemed genuinely interested. The homeless man stirred. Maybe he is just passed out. I searched in vain for a poking stick to check on him, since I didn’t want to get any diseases on my hands.
“Certainly Judge.” crowed Barney. “The Oriole has had a good run, but Baltimore is the rightful owner of the mascot. I think we need to look ahead and not behind. No one has a mascot of a mocking bird…”
“That’s because it’s stupid.” said the Jessie Spano-looking woman.
“That’s because it’s stupid.” mocked Barney.
“What?” asked Jessie.
“What?” repeated Barney.
“Why are you repeating what I say?”
“Why are you repeating what I say?”
Jessie looked at Barney and burst into tears. She sidled out of her desk and waddled out of the room as fast as her pudgy little stumps would take her.
A satisfied smile crept over Barney’s face. “See, that’s why we should have a mocking bird as a mascot. Think about all the humiliation we can cause opposing teams cheerleaders at football games! It’s outstanding! Incredible! Undeniable! Indisputable!”
As the Judge started to nod his head in approval, I slowly removed myself from my seat. I didn’t want to cause any alarms, but I knew I had to get out of there. This was all too surreal. I slowly backed out of the room, smiling like I thought the idea Barney had was great. Once I hit the door, I turned and ran like Carl Lewis in Seoul.
In the end, I’m pretty happy I attended the town meeting. I got to meet some neighbors and I got to see a man wearing an actually eye patch. I don’t think I’m going to go back to another meeting though, because I really didn’t care for the way the judge acted all high and mighty; like it was his meeting or something. What a blowhard!
I walked through the threshold of the door and saw a teacher’s desk at the front of the room. A tall man was seated behind the desk, wearing a judicial robe and staring at the heavens, as if waiting for a sign.
In front of his desk, there were eight kids school desks lined up in two rows of four. These are the kinds of desks we had in second grade, where you lift the top and put all your folders, pens and silly putty inside. I wasn’t sure I would be able to fit in one of them, but it didn’t look like I was going to have a problem finding a seat. Only three of the desks were occupied at the moment. I snuck into the back left desk and looked to the man on my right.
He appeared to be homeless, but I can’t say this for sure. There’s also a chance that he just likes to carry around a ton of “treasures” in a bindle and smell like a combination of rotten eggs and burnt toe jam. He was wearing a Mets hat, so I thought I’d reach out and make conversation with one of my fellow St. Louis Parkiacs.
“Hey, did you see the Mets signed Beltran? I’m not sure it’s so good for him, but it’s great for the Mets. I hope he can handle the pressure in the Big Apple.” I said, putting on my best “please don’t shank me homeless stranger” face.
The man slowly turned his head towards me. It was at that moment I realized he was wearing an eye patch. He must have the same feeling I do; the eye patch is going to be the Trucker Hat of 2005.
Apparently he couldn’t see me very clearly, because he never responded to my light banter. He reached into his desk and pulled out a flask full of Evan Williams. He took a mighty pull out of the bottle and put the flask back into his desk without even offering me a tug. So much for camaraderie. He then proceeded to lay his head on his desk. I was going to ask him another question, but the man in the judicial robe banged a green, over-sized, novelty hammer on the desk. Apparently that meant the meeting was starting.
“OK, thank you all for coming,” started the man in the judicial robe. “As you probably know, I am Judge Clarence Witherford and I preside over these monthly gatherings. I also sell life insurance and we all know you can never have too much life insurance. Am I right? Right? Right, right, right?”
I looked around the room, wondering what in the world possessed me to make my voyage here. The homeless man to my right hadn’t moved yet. I think there is a possibility he has died and moved on the next life. The way this meeting is going, I kind of envy him.
The woman seated in front of me looked exactly like Jessie Spano from Saved by the Bell, if Jessie Spano were 4’11”, 300 pounds and black. This woman probably could have started for the Broncos. If I had to describe her in one word, it would be “powerful”. This woman was looking straight ahead and taking notes. I think she was writing down every word the Judge was saying.
The man seated at the end of the front row raised his hand.
Judge Clarence “You’re recognized Barney.”
“Thank you, sir. My name is Barney Smith and I want to present the first order of business. Proposition 14H-T. ‘To change the St. Louis Park High School mascot from the Oriole to the Mocking Bird.’” said Barney.
“Very interesting. Could you please make your argument?” The judge seemed genuinely interested. The homeless man stirred. Maybe he is just passed out. I searched in vain for a poking stick to check on him, since I didn’t want to get any diseases on my hands.
“Certainly Judge.” crowed Barney. “The Oriole has had a good run, but Baltimore is the rightful owner of the mascot. I think we need to look ahead and not behind. No one has a mascot of a mocking bird…”
“That’s because it’s stupid.” said the Jessie Spano-looking woman.
“That’s because it’s stupid.” mocked Barney.
“What?” asked Jessie.
“What?” repeated Barney.
“Why are you repeating what I say?”
“Why are you repeating what I say?”
Jessie looked at Barney and burst into tears. She sidled out of her desk and waddled out of the room as fast as her pudgy little stumps would take her.
A satisfied smile crept over Barney’s face. “See, that’s why we should have a mocking bird as a mascot. Think about all the humiliation we can cause opposing teams cheerleaders at football games! It’s outstanding! Incredible! Undeniable! Indisputable!”
As the Judge started to nod his head in approval, I slowly removed myself from my seat. I didn’t want to cause any alarms, but I knew I had to get out of there. This was all too surreal. I slowly backed out of the room, smiling like I thought the idea Barney had was great. Once I hit the door, I turned and ran like Carl Lewis in Seoul.
In the end, I’m pretty happy I attended the town meeting. I got to meet some neighbors and I got to see a man wearing an actually eye patch. I don’t think I’m going to go back to another meeting though, because I really didn’t care for the way the judge acted all high and mighty; like it was his meeting or something. What a blowhard!
Thursday, June 09, 2005
More Cowbell
Is our softball team name. And we are the biggest bunch of sucks who have ever sucked in one place together at once.
If we were a band, we'd be Nelson.
If we were a movie, we'd be Batman & Robin.
If we were a baseball player, we'd be Shannon Stewart and Kyle Lohse's genetically-made son, who sucks in a synergistic way; he sucks more than both of those bastards put together.
That's us. We're More Cowbell. We play on Thursdays at 7. We wank. G'Night.
If we were a band, we'd be Nelson.
If we were a movie, we'd be Batman & Robin.
If we were a baseball player, we'd be Shannon Stewart and Kyle Lohse's genetically-made son, who sucks in a synergistic way; he sucks more than both of those bastards put together.
That's us. We're More Cowbell. We play on Thursdays at 7. We wank. G'Night.
Wise Words
"I'm just planting the seed. Planting the seed to let it grow later." - Steven Pieklik
"...a lot of truth is said in jest." - Eminem
"You can't turn a ho into a housewife fool." - Snoop Doggy Dogg
"I feel like a doormat with legs." - Brent A. Nelson
"...a lot of truth is said in jest." - Eminem
"You can't turn a ho into a housewife fool." - Snoop Doggy Dogg
"I feel like a doormat with legs." - Brent A. Nelson
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
David Spade is a wise man
From David Spade's "Take the Hit"
"So, I break up with my girlfriend. Of course, I trash her to all my friends and family. My mom's like 'She was sweet.' and I said 'Oh, yeah, well...she hated you. Yeah, that's right. And sometimes she wanted me to, like, um, take drugs. Not quite the litte angel.' Of course, like 15 minutes later, we get back together."
Ahhh...isn't that the way it always works. That's good, clean, fun, prophet-related humor right there. He's like Nostradamus, except he's alive, funny and actually has predictions that come true. Word.
"So, I break up with my girlfriend. Of course, I trash her to all my friends and family. My mom's like 'She was sweet.' and I said 'Oh, yeah, well...she hated you. Yeah, that's right. And sometimes she wanted me to, like, um, take drugs. Not quite the litte angel.' Of course, like 15 minutes later, we get back together."
Ahhh...isn't that the way it always works. That's good, clean, fun, prophet-related humor right there. He's like Nostradamus, except he's alive, funny and actually has predictions that come true. Word.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Is This Even Legal???
The girl I was seeing just broke up with me via e-mail. Via e-mail! Granted, we did meet on the internet, but we had been out 8 times. Doesn't that require a face-to-face breakup? Aren't there some guidelines posted out there somewhere? Didn't Miss Manners have a column on this? Unbelievable!
And she gave me the old "I want to pull away before I hurt you" routine. What the hell? Really? I can't even fathom this. But I should have seen it coming. This isn't the Red Sox coming back against the Yankees after being down 0-3. It's more like the Blue Jays sweeping the Royals; you know it's a definite possibility; you're just not sure if it's going to happen.
(I can not describe how happy I am to be living with Paul and Devo next year. For those of you who don't know, Paul is essentially a babe magnet and, since he has a girlfriend, there has to be some babe run-off I would think. And where does the babe run-off go once is falls off Paul? That's right...the roommates! Word! And, hopefully Carla can be a little bit of a hook-up...as long as I didn't creep her out too much in Duluth. I say too much, because I know she had to be a little creeped out :) Now, I've gotten all off subject. OK, back to my dating prowess...)
So, now the official score is not in my favor. Add this to my string of other unsuccessful dates over the past year and the relationship scorecard (this card has been verified and sealed with the proper approval of a U.S. magistrate while he balanced himself on the hump of a one-eyed camel) is not looking too hot.
I have had two one month relationships and a smattering of dates. I'd like to think it's all them, but eventually, you need to look in the mirror and say something might be wrong with you. But, my mirror just tells me I'm gorgeous! It also says I'm modest, so it may be a lying rat bastard, but I don't know for sure.
But, such is life, it will eventually turn around. I should make an infomercial.
And she gave me the old "I want to pull away before I hurt you" routine. What the hell? Really? I can't even fathom this. But I should have seen it coming. This isn't the Red Sox coming back against the Yankees after being down 0-3. It's more like the Blue Jays sweeping the Royals; you know it's a definite possibility; you're just not sure if it's going to happen.
(I can not describe how happy I am to be living with Paul and Devo next year. For those of you who don't know, Paul is essentially a babe magnet and, since he has a girlfriend, there has to be some babe run-off I would think. And where does the babe run-off go once is falls off Paul? That's right...the roommates! Word! And, hopefully Carla can be a little bit of a hook-up...as long as I didn't creep her out too much in Duluth. I say too much, because I know she had to be a little creeped out :) Now, I've gotten all off subject. OK, back to my dating prowess...)
So, now the official score is not in my favor. Add this to my string of other unsuccessful dates over the past year and the relationship scorecard (this card has been verified and sealed with the proper approval of a U.S. magistrate while he balanced himself on the hump of a one-eyed camel) is not looking too hot.
I have had two one month relationships and a smattering of dates. I'd like to think it's all them, but eventually, you need to look in the mirror and say something might be wrong with you. But, my mirror just tells me I'm gorgeous! It also says I'm modest, so it may be a lying rat bastard, but I don't know for sure.
But, such is life, it will eventually turn around. I should make an infomercial.
Friday, June 03, 2005
I have no words
We got shut out in slow pitch softball last night. I thought it was impossible for that to happen to. We were so awful, it almost made me yack. It was an excruciating pain followed by moments of intense burning, like with the Clap. You know what I'm talking about. Well...I think our shot at the playoffs went out the door. Now, we need to work on not embarassing ourselves next week.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Yep
I hate when cars drive down the shoulder and don't merge.
I love when semi-trucks pull onto the shoulder to stop them.
I hate ice cream. (It's too cold!)
I'm scared of Weebles.
I appreciate a decent marinara sauce.
I can't believe anyone pays to see Yanni.
I believe Yanni and Gallagher are the same man.
If John Tesh and Yanni formed an un-holy adult contemporary alliance, I may pay to see that.
I love when semi-trucks pull onto the shoulder to stop them.
I hate ice cream. (It's too cold!)
I'm scared of Weebles.
I appreciate a decent marinara sauce.
I can't believe anyone pays to see Yanni.
I believe Yanni and Gallagher are the same man.
If John Tesh and Yanni formed an un-holy adult contemporary alliance, I may pay to see that.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Stupid Question
The asker of this question shall remain anonymous, which shall save him from the public ridicule he rightfully deserves. We'll just call him Mr. Lee. No wait, that's too easy. We'll call him James L. There we go...
James L. - Can you think of anything to do in vegas that doesn't involve clubs, gambling, or strippers?
Brent N. - Um..yeah...how about just staying in Ohio? COME ON! Get the net man!! In all seriousness, there are buffets also. And heat. And not talking to girls. And losing money to fast dealing blackjack dealers. But, what you've mentioned is most everything. I hear the Hoover Dam is there. If you want to go there, I can do the honors of shooting you, since at that point, you will have lost all reason for living.
James L. - Can you think of anything to do in vegas that doesn't involve clubs, gambling, or strippers?
Brent N. - Um..yeah...how about just staying in Ohio? COME ON! Get the net man!! In all seriousness, there are buffets also. And heat. And not talking to girls. And losing money to fast dealing blackjack dealers. But, what you've mentioned is most everything. I hear the Hoover Dam is there. If you want to go there, I can do the honors of shooting you, since at that point, you will have lost all reason for living.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
