Drunken Recollection… What I Can Remember About Camping This Summer


Don't worry. This happened during squirrel season.

With summer finally over, it’s time for me to drunken recollect some of my camping highlights.  Outside of drinking, eating, being in the water, being on the pontoon, drinking, eating, sitting by the campfire, beach volleyball, drinking, eating, and peeing in the water, this is all I can remember:

1) A squirrel fell out of a tree.
It happened in front of a few of my family members as they were walking.  When they reached to check on the immobile rodent, it sprung back to consciousness and took off.

2) Some cyclist had this shirt on, as well as a bushy beard:

A Whopper of a beard, in fact...

A Whopper of a beard, in fact...

3) There was a plan to tie me to a chair if I passed out drunk.
It didn’t happen on the earlier summer trip, but it did happen.  At least the dumping me in the lake didn’t.

4) I pulled a boat via a rope in my teeth.
There is a picture out there I do not possess.  I do remember my jawline aching, though.

5) There was a strange song playing on the iPod we took out to the sandbar.
Turned out it was from the film, Music and Lyrics.  Here it is for your, um, pleasure?

6) In closing…

Vodpod videos no longer available.

JusWondering… What Would I Put On A Bucket List?

Who's the angel and who's the devil? I'll let you decide...

Who's the angel and who's the devil? I'll let you decide...

I have never seen Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman’s The Bucket List (or would it be director Rob Reiner’s?  Whatevs…)  Anymarryinghisgrandaughter (yikes Morgan!), the topic sort of came up the other day about what things would be put on a, uuum, things to do before you die list.  The following is my start:

  • I must go (play? participate in?) curling.  I’ve been (played? participated in?) duckpin bowling before over in Canada, plus I thoroughly enjoy hockey.  Curling is the next logical step, eh?
  • I want to see a platypus in person.  I realized I’ve been on this planet for a decent stretch of time, and I’ve never seen one, even at a zoo.  You know, because I just might run into one at the Electronic Music Festival
  • I want to host Saturday Night Live.  I’m not sure what the steps will be to get to do this.  I hope it involves being a successful blogger, because I’ve at least got the blogging part going.  I’m a big fan of sitting on my couch.
  • I want to be on Dancing with the Stars.  I’d like to learn how to dance in the classic style.  For free.  From above-average professionals.  And, oh yeah, to get paid to do so.  Perhaps this is a step in getting to host Saturday Night Live.
  • I will continue this list…
It's like a Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger!

It's like a Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger!

InASense, Lost… Baby Stripper Shoes?

File this one under, “Are You Fucking Kidding Me?”  This picture pretty much says it all (if you didn’t believe this post’s title):


Glass bottomed heels are optional.

So okay, high heels aren’t specifically “stripper shoes,” but they definitely are in poor taste and bad judgment when you put them on an infant.  It’s as bad as putting writing on the back of actual baby shorts and sweatpants.  Moms – little girls aren’t your living dolls, accessories, or Chihuahuas… they’re new people.  New human beings.  Full of life and potential.  I’m not saying it’s a sure path to coke-whoring despair, but there are better options.

See how these moms react:

I could go on and on about how this idea may be the worst thing since:

Only a Dad would buy this shirt

Only a Dad would buy this shirt

But my explanations would sway no one and only come across as redundant to your reactions.

That’s why should I happen to have a daughter of my own, I’m going to raise her to trust no one.  I’ll encourage her to be a little reporter and investigator, and she’ll come home and tell me all the things she’s uncovered.  We’ll create journals and files and collect news clippings.  That way my daughter will be a little more Veronica Mars than Gossip Girl

Or super seriously paranoid.

Maybe I shouldn’t be a parent…

Drunken Recollection… A Canadian, A T-Shirt, A.I., And Some Bars

It’s been awhile since I’ve had a Drunken Recollection.  It’s not so much that I have no Recollection.  It’s moreso that I haven’t been Drunken (or I give it all up to Twitter – damn!)

This past night was an odd collection of  Items to Note:

Note 1) Our live trivia host sounded identical to Norm MacDonald.

How cool would it be if the pic on the mug was holding a picture of Norm holding a mug?

How cool would it be if the pic on the mug was holding a picture of Norm holding a mug?

And that wasn’t a bad thing.  It was simply strange, because the guy looked more like this: 

Not to be confused with Kris Kross.

Not to be confused with Kris Kross.

Note 2) There was a guy that was very proud of his t-shirt that read, “My Giveadamner Is Broken.”

I couldn’t find the exact t-shirt he had, but there are plenty of varities out there.  Apparently, I could have cared less, so I guess my giveadamner was broken, too.

Note 3) The American Idol judges saved someone?

This was playing in the background on the TV, so I have an excuse.  Okay, I really don’t have an excuse because I watched the show the day before, and I thought local-yokel Matt Giraud didn’t perform that great.


More "grating" than "great."

Albeit, I would listen to him for 100 years before listening to Adam Lambert sing Born to Be Wild ever again.  Or anything, for that matter.  (I hope Allison wins, or maybe even Anoop!)

Note 4) CBGB stood for Country, Blue Grass, & Blues?

ZOMG! It's closed!

ZOMG! It's closed!

CBGB’s, as far as I knew, was the place where hardcore punk was born, not country, blue grass, and blues?

This topic brought up conversation about the Fillmore in San Francisco, and how there’s one here in Detroit since Live Nation gobbled up the State Theater and renamed it.

I tried bringing up the historic place in Detroit, where groups like the MC5 got their start, but no one knew.  So I had to research it.

Found it:

ZOMG! It's abandonned!

ZOMG! It's abandonned!

 I was thinking of the Grande Ballroom.


That’s all I got.  I already mentioned my giveadamner’s broken.

Drunken Recollection… More Or Less Than Jake

Let me begin with this: last night I saw Less Than Jake in concert at St. Andrew’s Hall in Detroit, and I.  Had.  A.  Blast.

It was quite possibly one of the best concerts I’ve been to in a long time, and I’m pretty sure it can be attributed to going with my brother, Scott, and my cousin, Steve, the fact that I’ve been a fan of LTJ since their Losing Streak album came out in 1996, and lots and lots of draft beer.

I swore to try to remember as much of the highlights as possible.  So here I go:

  • We started at the casino.  Scott and Steve had been drinking prior to, and I was playing catch-up (I think Steve was playing mustard).  Scott was recounting how at one concert he was hit in the head with a full water bottle and got knocked out for a bit.  This will play out later.
  • Having only one phone between us, we decided we should make our way to the show so as not to miss LTJ.  We got there in time to see the Flatliners (not the Julia Roberts/Kiefer Sutherland pic).  We were glad not to miss any of the main act, but we wished we could have gambled more.  Especially once I realized they had Star Wars penny slots.  May the force be with the 30-line spin!
  • We laughed at a woman wearing Mom Jeans and her man that looked like Tom Cruise circa The Firm.  Steve would end up befriending them and giving them high fives later, but still…
  • I thought of a pickup line.  Then I thought it might work as a pickup line to ask if the pickup line would work as a pickup line.  I was going to ask one girl but her man came back.  So I turned to another girl who was way too crossed-eyed to be so snotty in my opinion, and I said, “I heard your brother’s the drummer in the band.”  Her response, “If my brother was in the band, I’d be backstage, duh.  But nice try on the pickup line.”  Steve returned from the restroom or a beer run, and he heard the ending.  He thought I asked about the line, but I informed him that I just used it as is.
  • A gaggle of older dudes (my age) started moshing at the back during the second opening act, which was the more more accessible band called the Expendables.  One dude bumped me more than once which caused me to spill beer on Scott’s phone.  I turned to face them and the dude’s friend apologized.  What I said to appease him, I want to put on t-shirts:

Like this but better... not much better, though.
Like this, but better… not much better, though.
  • Also, the dude that made me spill my beer wanted to get punched in the face… he told me so.  I said I would, but he had to punch me too, kinda like a Rocky/Apollo Creed freeze frame kind of thing.  His friend told us to wait until after the concert.  I agreed.
  • Once LTJ started, the mosh pit was incredible.  Being one of the taller guys, I’m usually asked to lift people to body surf, but not as many people were willing to for some reason.  At the end of the regular show, I decided to go.  The bouncer that flipped me over told me I was too big to be doing this.  I agreed.
  • When the encore was in full swing, some of the kids that helped me up before wanted me to do it again.  I told them I was yelled at last time, which only spurned them on more.  So I went up again, and the bouncer repeated the fact that I was too big to be doing this.  If I did it again, I was going to get kicked out.  I didn’t go back by those other kids again.
  • It was about this time that Steve was high-fiving Tom Cruise and Mom Jeans.  Scott had been hit in the head, but by something other than a water bottle.  This little kid appeared out of nowhere as the main floor cleared, and he was picking up who-knows-what off the floor.  I saw the friends of the dude I was supposed to punch, but they lost him.  They informed me that if I saw him, I should swing for his right eye, because his left eye was already bruised.  I agreed.
  • Scott was going to sleep in the car while Steve and I would gamble more.  We parted ways at the garage.  As we were wandering around in the casino, we ran into Scott.  He couldn’t find the car.  It was amazing to stumble across each other because only Scott had a phone.  Lucky!
  • I lost ten bucks in the Star Wars penny slots.  I would have only lost five, but a woman asked me to watch her spot so she could run to the restroom.  I only had thirty cents left, so I threw in another five.  More or Less Than Jake, it was a good night.