mmmm...Brass Monkey, that funky monkey

Two posts in one day, huh? Anyways, the Ash Bash lived up to some of the hype. The laundry room party was a smash just as I predicted, and the music was pretty happening. The only downer was that Kwaamar and Fetus Boy kept stealing my beer, and I think I pissed off AJ somehow. Perkins breakfast with Steele and a passed out Cody was brilliant. Coming back to the pad and having a three hour convo with a 17 year old girl who turned out to be really interesting was also a big freaking surprise. The bad news was the big ladies were in rare form with the obnoxiousness and hitting and sexual pushiness. I think that the real highlights, for me at least, were being able to talk to Steele and Leslie for extended periods of time for quite some time. For some reason, I just love the long, meaningful one on one conversations when I am buzzed or sober. It was one fantastic evening, especially for the reluctant ladykiller J.A. Hill.

Forever In Blue Jeans

Went and saw the Darnkess on Friday with Jeff, Dustin, Cody, and Nate. They brought the rawkenest rawk that ever rawked for a whole exilerating hour, and I saw Justin Hawkins rock a fucking candy-striper catsuit and red white and blue zubaz. He even rode the roadies shoulders throughout the crowd while playing a guitar solo during "Love on the Rocks With No Ice". The crowd was amazing. There was a punk couple to my left who had a romantic slamdance to the touching "Get Your Hands Off Of My Woman (Motherfucker)". There were so many hotties that I was distracted from Justin Hawkins leading the men in the audience to shout "I love cock". After the show, when I mentioned that Neil Diamond was a huge influence on the band, two fatties yelled at me for disrespecting Neil. Then some guy with vanity plates that read "WIMMAN" also got into the Neil loving fray. That man must play Saint Paul NOW!!! Afterward, celebrated Dustins 21st at TGIFridays with Ultimate Long Island Iced Teas.

Fuck Tha Police

The Champlin Police Department once again proves what a fine institution it is by sending 5 fucking officers to break up a party with 12 people at it. Not to mention that they gave minors and took my fucking legally gotten hooch. Those fuckers. Anyways, I still am nursing one hell of a hangover, due to the Jagermeister straight from the bottle and the beer bonging, both of which I'd never done before. And I saw the white cabinent. It was as funny as I figured it would be.

I've been listening to Billy Joel's song "You May Be Right" over and over lately. I think that it would make one of the most perfect punk covers ever, seeing as how I think that the Piano Man was aiming for that angle to begin with. Also, the new Beastie Boys album is the shit, as well.

Young Girl, They Call Them The Diamond Dogs

Got done reading an interesting book suggested by one of my 'Bucks co-workers called "McGoorty" about depression pool hustler Dan McGoorty and his drunken escapades. Seeing as how I love the 1920's and 1930's because of the debauchery, the book was a great read. The best little story was when he met a 17 year old girl and took over her mothers house for a week with his friends of drunken fucking. Beautiful. Got me so pumped that I actually went out and played a little pool at the Billiards Cafe in bumfuck Fridley. I also have bought too many CDs lately, but I found Princes Black Album and Crystal Ball for a total of $18 bucks at Cheapo Fridley. Anyways, probably gonna have the best night of sleep ever tonight, as 50 hour work weeks drive the sleepy train like no other.

Lets Have a Ball And A Biscuit Sugar

Cody set out to have a "sexy party" and I'll be damned if it didn't turn out to be just that. The sight of AJ getting a fucking lapdance from not one but two girls made me leave the party before the real good stuff happened. But kudos to Cody for actually declaring it on and not allowing just a five man acoustical jam a la Tesla. To quote Quade, there were many rockstar moments, like the aforementioned Juicer pissing off the deck mid-sentence. Peter Harold is going to pray heavily for all our souls, but he once cuddled behind a dumpster with Carrot Lung and a runaway Don Shelby child, and that is a little debauched in my book. I had a fantastic time reliving old smothered and covered days at Perkins with Mr and Mrs Quade though. Quades boo gave some pointers on the ladies, which I enjoyed.

PISTONS WIN!!!! PISTONS WIN!!!!!PISTONS WIN!!!!PISTONS WIN!!!!!!!
Thats just a big fuck you to Phil Jackson, Kobe and Shaq. It didn't even take six like I predicted previously. Here's my big bold prediction for next years conference finals. Wolves and San Antonio and Detroit and Indiana again.

Five Minutes Doug E. Fresh, Youre On

Another weekend spent partying and working. Damn. I love the money that comes with work, but its been a bit slower because my usual night cohorts have left for vacations, and I am stuck with the day people who just dont have the same sense of humor that I do. The partying was quite eventful, as my stupid dog got out twice and Quades friends friend found it necessary to frolic in my yard African Safari style with my mutts. The five AM call from the "police department" was a masterful prank though. The only horseshit thing was Milla dumping beer on Cody and shit winding up in my backyard because I had to leave my window open all night. Otherwise, a good time was had by all, I think.

Uh-Oh. Love Has Come To Town

What the fuck is going on? All the ESPN talking heads have started to move towards the Pistons bandwagon. Nice. I still stand behind my prediction of Pistons in 6, because after tonight, the Lakers showed that they have absolutely no heart.

I realized today that I have bought an average of three CDs a week for the last two months. I have a serious problem with the purchase of music. I haven't even really had time to give all my "preciouses" a good proper listen to. The worst part is that I will just keep buying them now that I am banking much more money than the lowly farm daze. It doesn't help when Jeff calls me and says "buy CDs" at least three times a week.

Out of the ones that I have recently bought, I am really feeling Todd Rundgrens "Something/Anything?" CD from the early 70's. It's a double disc set with a great mix of power pop and torchy-style ballads. Excellent. I also am feeling the two Talking Heads albums I bought recently (1977 and Stop Making Sense) especially Stop Making Sense. When the Tom Tom Club comes out to sing Genius Of Love, it kills. I am also looking forward to the release of the Killers new album, because their new single "Somebody Told Me" is new wave redux.

I also had a dream last night that Brian Eno from Roxy Music and I went swimming and he kept trying to have me fuck him. What the fuck? I think it had to do with all the femme Poncey pics I've seen of him, and all the Brian Eno solo and Roxy Music cuts I've been downloading. So tomorrow I may have to buy Enos glam opus "Here Come the Warm Jets".

Couldn't I Just Tell You The Way I Feel?

The cabin trip was somewhat of a success. I was really pissed when I found out the Flames lost the cup when I called Quade, and I have many a bug bite and sunburn up the ass. But I do agree with Cody, what happens at the cabin stays at the cabin. Or at least the details. All I can say is "Nightswimming" by R.E.M sums up most of the attitude, except it's not fall and it didn't deserve a quiet night. The highlight was probably "This ones for the Monkees" (definently a song NOT sung blue) or Christian revealing, as Curly in City Slickers said, the one thing. Team 2002 Grand Am also won the amazing race over Team 1996 Cutlass, so the holiday ended on a positive note.

Work today was a blur of crazay. The DM came in and made me do a freaking coffee tasting for her and my manager, and I spilled hot Arabian Mocha Java all over her checklist. Thank god that I got to work with the fun crew for the whole evening. The funniest part was that one of the new hires, who I was training in, had her father come in for a second and I looked over and saw that her poppa was in fact my 8th Grade math teacher. One of the worst years of anyone's life is the 14th one, and seeing a face that I hoped never to see again made me a bit freaked the fuck out. Thoughts of "Swallowed" by Bush and sneaking porn in Andrew Cooklocks basement came back in a flood. The only way I could have been more freaked out and nauseous would have been if I heard "niner" or saw Ms. Drury on KSTP claiming she saved lives.

Just Like Heaven

Its been one quick weekend. Went out with the crew from Starbucks on Friday to Old Chicago and had a wonderful time pissing off not one but two waitresses. I also started my World Tour Of Beers, which will take me about ten years to finish seeing as how I am a lightweight. Saturday and Sunday conisited of too much work, followed on Sunday by a shitty preformance on the frolf course. Looking forward to the trip to Millas cabin tomorrow morning at 6:30 AM with Christian and N8. Hoping for some McD's for breakfast, or mabye some Polish sausage.

Jay Leno Head Bob

Today was an excellent day all around. I went clothes shopping for the first time in forever, and found a couple shirts for under $30. Then I went and frolfed with many of my cohorts and got spanked roundly because I suck and Quade, who usually carries the team, had an off day in the first game. But on the solo side I enjoyed an under par afternoon for the second game in a row. The biggest laugh had to be when Grabski got his Frisbee taken from him by the four year old in the Radio Flyer wagon. Watching Grabski run after the little kid yelling "Hey, that's my frisbee" was classic. The after frolf refreshments were to be had at Dairy Queen where we revived the old tradtion of sitting on the grassy knoll and chatting. Billy Jack Bitch also saw a few high school acquaintances. That will make for some fine gossip.

Seeing all the high school girls who worked at Dariy Queen remided me of how old I sometimes feel. The girls were all really YOUNG looking, and giggly. I guess being 21 isn't that old, but they just seemed to goofy and awkward compared to most of the girls that I know now. I remember being 16 and harboring crushes on girls that if I saw right now I'd probably want to slap into reality. The only similarity between then and now is the fact that I still can't ask the ladies out on dates. I guess the only thing that has changed is I'm more selective on the type of woman I like. Back in the day, any girl who was remotely attractive was "hot". Now, I'm pretty specific on my requirements on a lady. I guess that's a result of your hormones finally getting a bit under control.

Cabin parade

I'm getting a little pumped about Millas cabin trip that is upcoming this Monday. I actually got the time off that I need, and I can stay as long as I want. Also, it will be the first time that all of us are 21, (with the exception of Cody) so maybe we can cruise some hick bars and I can find the elusive love that I crave. Except I'm sure that if we did visit any dives up in the Crow Wing area, all Id find is 30 something and guys with PBR hats and "Earnhart Lives" jackets.

But seriously, the cabin trips are usually ridiculous. The last one involved some sex on poor Jeffs blanket, and more relationship drama than the O.C. that's not the shit that is hilarious though. When the gang looked at fucked up porn at the Barnes and Noble copyright infringement of a bookstore and the 70 year old owner carded us for looking it was the highlight. It just says something about small town perversions that the Mom and Pop bookstore in a dirt mall has harder porn than Shinders (and it was sitting out next to Rolling Stone and Time!) Anyways, should be a relief from the 40+ Hour weeks that I've been putting in lately at both my jobs. Guess which job is more enjoyable?

Hello, Its Me

I've had a really strange obsession with early 1970s pop lately. In the past month, I have bought The Sweet, The Raspberries, Big Star and Todd Rundgren albums. I don't know what the deal is. I just figure that there is not much interesting going on with current music (besides Franz Ferdinand and that Modest Mouse song "Float On"). Its been this way for the last year, I just keep buying music from genres that I didn't listen to before.

I am also pumped as hell that the Pistons beat the Pacers tonight to win the East. My bold prediction is that the Pistons will win in 6 games. I think that yes, the lakers are "designed" to win the title, but the Pistons are going to throw defense that the Wolves just couldn't throw at them. I just wanted to go in a different direction than Steven A. Smiths Lakers ass kissing on Sports Center tonight.

Fuck tha Haters

I am boycotting ESPN tomorrow and tonight definently. I am not prepared to hear the fucking bullshit that the talking heads are about to spew about how Karl Malone is Jesus because he took a paycut to earn a title. That is just fucking weak pandering nonsense. He is a selfish heartless vet in the twilight of a career that I once respected. Same goes for Gary Payton. And to think, I wanted the Wolves to sign Payton over Cassell, who tried his damnedest to play through two separate injuries. I usually react sadly to the elimination of one of my home teams from the conference finals (which has happened 5 times in 6 years now), but tonight I nearly cried at the determination of the Wolves to not hang their heads and to play until the last second. Next year is going to be big, really fucking big.