Groundhogs, Explosions, And A Lack Of Clothes

It first occurred to me in Pennsylvania.  Punxsutawney, to be exact.  Some family and friends went there two winters ago for the 30th birthday of my sister, Becky.  (Sorry for letting the groundhog out of the bag…)
 
Her birthday falls on Groundhog Day, and the festivities at Gobbler’s Knob (um, yep, that’s it name) were surprisingly warm for it being so cold.  The people were nice at the Walmart we parked at and on the bus.  The grounds were cleared of fresh snow and already covered in hay which prevented soaking wet feet. 
I don’t get up at 5am for much of anything other than a flight, but I’m glad we awakened on time in order to witness this:
Catch a sparkler on your tongue!
Catch a sparkler on your tongue!

A fireworks display in the morning snow.

Normally, I’m not a big fan of the big booms on the Fourth (the mini-booms at my uncle’s house are a blast), but when they’re unexpected, they can be beautiful.  A similar feeling snuck up on me last night on Veteran’s Day.  I stayed at work a little later to avoid traffic… and read blogs.  Sometimes my wireless Internet doesn’t work at home because my neighbor turns it off, or starts fiddling with it somehow – asshole (j/k if you read this, which you probably don’t, so j/k).

On the freeway, I passed a mall presenting a full-fledged spectacular, grand finale and all (I stopped at a Best Buy – what’s wrong with me?)  I couldn’t stop smiling.  The music on the radio even seemed to mesh with the flashing and flaring chemicals (seriously, what’s wrong with me?)  It was… unexpected.

This made me realize that surprises are what it’s all about.  Like hearing Christmas music on the radio the day after Halloween.  It happens every year, but I forget that it’s going to happen and I actually enjoy it.  (Although I do grow sick of it well before Thanksgiving, and I feel sick for admitting this all – damn happy music.)

Or it’s just like going to a party where you don’t expect to meet anyone of interest (whichever path of interest you choose), and you gain an insight or catch an STD.  Regardless, it’s still a fun surprise!

In closing, it’s the same way with nudity.  If I go to the strip club, I’m paying for the fireworks and Christmas music.  But in public… on a Tuesday… in the rain – huzzah!  At a concert… when changing into another shirt – huzzah!  Or through my apartment window, into yours, across the alley.  Your lights are on.  Mine are off.  Huzzah…

Happy Find… ManBabies (Sounds Weird, Is Weird, But Funny)

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything quite as simple yet so funny as this:

*speechless*

*speechless*

It comes from the site, ManBabies (just keep hitting “Random” – it’s a riot), and I discovered that site courtesy of Heartless Doll.  It’s genius and so stupid… I love it.

I Love You! You Love Me! Barney Doesn’t Love That Guy!

Yay!  1000 (and 1) views!  Thanks so far (even if it’s accidental)!

Aprapos of nothing, here’s a video of Barney the White House Dog (well, one of them), biting some douchebag reporter’s hand.

Drunken Recollection… Does Marijuana Have Stem Cells?

Aristotle Adobe?  Socraterra Cotta!

Aristotle Adobe? Socraterra Cotta!

Group time is philosophy time for me… pure and simple.  That’s how the Greeks did it (I presume their poison might have been strapping young lads); that’s how the Beats did it (they sure loved their opiates); and for me – it’s the bar and the beer.

In Michigan, Proposals 1 and 2 both passed, and while the legalization of marijuana for medical use gets a fair poke with the jokes, it was the stem cell research that started the rant.  (Okay, none of this is really philosophizing… maybe it’s hypothesizing… or “making shit up”…)

Anyweed, I launched a tangent about where I see the research going.  I mean, when I was young lad playing with Play-Doh (wait – what?), I didn’t expect things like corrective eye surgery, tendon replacements, or cloning to ever be possible.  After all, could cowboys imagine TV?

I know the tests so far haven’t provided anything as spectacular as regrowing hair in bald spots or reconnecting injured spinal cords (I’m not weighing these examples as the same, at all… yes I am).  But in time, these leaps in medicine may happen.  Things like head/brain transplants could be as common as corrective eye surgery.

The flip-side, of course, is the mad scientist aspect – that things like head/brain transplants could be as common as corrective eye surgery.  Will individuals be able to personalize themselves with the genetic equivalent of tattoos and piercings (“hey, check out my back ears”)?  I still feel we’ll know there’s been progress when we see a headline akin to this: “Scientists Accidentally Give Test Subject Vision… Via His Penis.” 

The upside to that scenario is you could tuck a video iPod in your drawers and watch a movie while at work… sorry ladies.  Although you already do have the magic bullet… and I’m not talking about the blender.

Let My Love Open The Door To Rage

I don’t know what it is about this song that simultaneously makes me want to run around and scoop peoples’ eyes out with sporks and stick ’em on kabobs, and also to hop around on alternating feet shaking my fists like maracas, acting like I’m Jim Carrey and Robin Williams’ love child.

Maybe their love child would want to scoop peoples’ eyes out with sporks…

JusWondering… S#!% Misses the Fans, Number 2 (Ha! Get It?)

When we last left off, I was imagining, well, check the last post…

The wondering about how someone could pass out from trying to pass something parlayed into the training pants story: Apparently, somewhere not far from Lansing, there’s a strip club where guys can pay plenty to take a shower with two nude girls.  It could be one of those urban legends at MSU because no one had ever been there, but everyone knew someone that had.  The catch?  Guys had to wear adult size training pants over their drawers, for whatever this recollection’s worth.

The importance of this part is that it lead to what both of these posts was all about – how cool would it be to run over things with a steamroller?

Here’s a short list of things we wanted to flatten (in no particular order):

A watermelon – this worked for Letterman when he dropped things off his roof
A regular TV – picture tube and all
A flatscreen TV – why not?
A metal garbage can – because how else do you throw out a garbage can
An aluminum baseball bat – like a penny on the train track
A lava lamp – ooh, the colors…
The statue of Joe Lewis’s Fist – that would finally make it a piece of art

As MC Hammer says, You cant punch this...
As MC Hammer says, You cant punch this…

JusWondering… S#!% Misses The Fans (And The Drummer)

In the many, many random discussions I have with friends and family, there’s one I had awhile ago that I can’t quite shake.

Over the course of the ramblings (mind you, these topics flowed seamlessly into each other somehow), my cousin, Steve, and I touched upon Vh1’s “Freakiest Concert Moments,” wearing plastic training pants in a strip club, and how to go about renting a steamroller.

About the Vh1 special: Apparently, some band made a bet with their manager and he lost, or they won (I cannot find this story anywhere… plus I cannot watch Vh1 – except for “Surreal Life”).  Anythewho, the manager (or agent) had to hang upside down over the drummer nude during the show.  The band forgot about him and by the time they remembered, he had passed out.  I was expecting the tale to end with his eyes shooting out of his head, or to discover he suffered some serious brain damage (more than the drugs that caused the bet to go through ever could).  The true finale is even better.  He had passed out quite early during the show because he was trying to shit on the drummer to get his attention.  He tried so hard it made him pass out.

I tried to imagine how one might go about shitting while upside down.  You would obviously have to try to grab your ankles, right?  In order to aim down?  Because the last thing you’d want to experience while hanging upside down in the buff is to feel a trail of your own crap running up your back and into your hair.  I’m just saying.

(The rest of this exciting JusWondering to follow later… And if anyone has a clue which rock band this happened to, please comment below!)

JusWondering… I Can Has Licenz Playt?

Also a game in prison...

Also a game in prison...

I have a love/hate (or would that be LUVH8) relationship with personalized license plates, and I’ve never been sure exactly why.  Part of me thinks of it as a game with my fellow road warriors, a la “Bumper Stumpers.”  Another part is reminded of txtspk, and sometimes that gmg (“gets my goat”… come on, I’m trying to start one).

The reason that txtspk can drive me crazy goes back to the game show – wtf does some of that shit rly mean?  (Well, that, and some of the stuff that makes sense makes little sense.)

Examples:  On my road trip to Chitown, I passed a couple of peeps w/ personalized plates.

FLINX – Fuck links… do you hate golf? Is your name Flin X (which I’d admit would be pretty cool)?
SAF – Shitty Ass Fuck indeed… initials are stupid
NVMEEE– Sooo original u needed 3 E’s
BLZR98Not on a ’98 Blazer – ironic?  (ARTS BRD on a Thunderbird and 06SMART on a ’06 Smart car – not ironic)

I know a lot has already been taken, and you are limited in your space, but here are some of the faves I’ve seen through the years:

PB4UGO – This one took a bit of brain shifting because my first thought was “Peanut butter for you, go”
IM1RU12 – This one had a surrounding plate holder declaring the driver was an alumnus from that particular school… though normally I’m not a fan of school spirit after you’ve left school (I’m bitter that way), I thought this was clever enough to include mostly because they were quick enough to get it first
IGODWN2 – This one is especially humorous to me because I happened upon it one night I was driving around, soul searching… my eyes focused on GOD first and I smiled… my smile grew bigger when I noticed the rest

Have you noticed any good personalized plates?

EXCLUSIVE: Excerpts From Obama’s “First Draft” Of Victory Speech Found In Potbelly’s Trash Can

As powerful as expected, President Elect Barack Obama gave his victory speech in Chicago’s Grant Park last night.  My sister, Becky, was there to witness it as it happened. 

I was just there over the weekend, as I mentioned in another post, to see the Lions get beat by the Bears, barely.  (I was wearing my #20 Seanders jersey, and you better believe I was the nicest guy in Soldier Field ever, but I digress.)  I was kind of waiting for the inevitable to happen before I revealed this, but… I found a copy of Obama’s first draft of the speech.

It turned up in a trash bin outside of a Potbelly near Michigan Avenue.  What was I doing looking in the trash, you might wonder, and rather than let your mind wander, I’ll share this… my sister threw out half of her cookie I totally would have eaten!

Some highlights from the speech, followed by excerpts of the alleged first draft:

He opened the speech with talk of the American dream, and about the people that waited in record lines to vote.

It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.

He originally planned to finish that statement with this: “…of states of confusion and states of clarity.”

After more positivity, he spoke about his opponent:

Sen. McCain fought long and hard in this campaign. And he’s fought even longer and harder for the country that he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine. We are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader.

I thought this part would have been nice had he kept it: “And wasn’t he great on Saturday Night Live?  The part about the Joe action figures, and the pork knives… heck, the whole thing was pretty hilarious.”

I congratulate him; I congratulate Gov. Palin for all that they’ve achieved. And I look forward to working with them to renew this nation’s promise in the months ahead.

“Oh, and thanks, again Senator for choosing the Governor as your running mate.  Really, really thanks.”

He goes on to thank Vice President Elect Joe Biden, his wife, his children, his grandmother that passed away the day before the election, and the rest of his family.  Then he brought up his friends.

And to my campaign manager, David Plouffe, the unsung hero of this campaign, who built the best — the best political campaign, I think, in the history of the United States of America. To my chief strategist David Axelrod who’s been a partner with me every step of the way.

“And Bill… you know who you are, and where you are.  Whether you’re above ground, or underground.”

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to. It belongs to you. It belongs to you.

“And to you, and you, and you… (point at random people for about ten minutes).”

The remainder pretty much remained the same, except for the very ending.

This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can’t, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.

Thank you. God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America.

“And thanks for taking a chance on me.”  Then he planned to close with one of these songs:

Or Flo Rida’s hit:

(Full actual transcript from CNN here.  Full actual video of speech here.)