new years

Well, it's 9:31 pm on New Years Eve, you are probably together having fun, I am having fun at my house. That's right folks, New Years at home. We had lobster and champagne and are getting ready for a movie on demand. I love New Years at home -- we get drunk and Jake and I inevitably end up spilling the secrets we hit from our parents in high school, e.g. "Hey, remember that time that we drank from the liquor cabinet and stomped around the house?" x a billion.

San Francisco was a nice trip, albeit not as warm as expected.

For me to explain my favorite moment of the trip, I have to delve a little into my youngest brother, Jonah. Most of you probably know that he is disabled -- but as he gets bigger (he's 12 now, starting to get man hands), it becomes more and more evident to other people, especially in public. Since he could make noise, he cannot help but make an "EEEE" sound but with his mouth closed, while having full body spasms and flapping his hands whenever he is excited. And a bus driving by excites him. He also has the tendency to need to just talk -- even if it's just repeating the same phrase over and over, maybe with one word changed, usually to different kinds of food.

Anyway, so we had been waiting on line to ride the mothaflippin cable car for the second time for an hour and a half, everyone just whining and being passive about leaving because Jonah was SO EXCITED and would throw himself on the ground whenever we suggested leaving. FINALLY my mother took charge and dragged him out to the street to hail a cab.

We got one quickly, and he agreed to take all 6 of us, so my dad sat in the front and the rest of us shoved into the back, with Emily sitting on my mom's lap and Jonah pressed up against the window. Jonah was very upset about not riding the cable car, but was trying to convince himself that this cab was okay. He was just saying "this is a cool cab, huh? it's a PASTA cab! It's a christmas cab! it's a BANANA cab! Yeah? haha? It's a tortellini cab! It's a MEAT cab!" And this goes on for, oh, 10 minutes or so, stuck in traffic, none of us really reacting, we're used to this.

Suddenly I realize: what is the cab driver thinking right now? I start laughing and whisper this to Jake, and he starts laughing. Jonah thinks we're laughing because he's funny so he gets even crazier "this is a SPACE CAB! hahaha! ha? Ha!" No one in the back seat can breathe, and then Jake says: "When we asked the driver if he could fit 6 in his cab, we probably should have added 'including a belligerent multiply disabled 12-year old who just had the highlight of his trip taken away from him"

When the driver kicked us out 2 blocks before we asked, he turned to my father and said "you all are sick."

So, that was a long description of a moment in time. Now I'm going to go watch Knocked Up! (Never seen it!)

Happy New Year! See you in 36 hours or so

Bros Ain't Stingy

This looks like me on Xmas morn.

JK!

I recently had to move all of my digi photos around and looking at the 2000-some moments we've had together made me miss you all madly.

Xoxo,
Colin "I'll make a real post soon" the Iron Giant

Xmas Week Movie Watching

No Country for Old Men: A
Juno: B
Charlie Wilson's War: B

xmas in lawrenceville

Every single time I go home, I have to go through my room. Each desk drawer, opening various folders, excavating piles of paper. And always it's amazing. "Wow, when was the last time I saw this?" 4 months ago, dumbass. The last time you dug through your shit.

I've begun to think like Dexter for at least an hour after I watch an episode. I narrate in my head; everything feels exacting, precise and deliberate. And really creepy. I watched two episodes tonight with my family -- we're all hooked. We only have 3 episodes left before we run out! What are we going to do? It's just enough for me to see them all before I get to school and not be too anxious.

Tomorrow morning at 1130 am I am leaving for San Francisco with the fam. Jews flying on Christmas, what else is new? Then we'll probably get chinese food and see Juno. (I'm not even kidding. this plan has already been discussed.) We get back the 31st, I leave for Carleton on the 2nd.. it's like I'm already there.

Every Christmas we drive around making fun of all the light displays. Our favorite is in our old neighborhood. This year, we showed up and there was a line of cars around the block.

I just found it on Youtube:



We sat there for 15 minutes watching all the songs. I'm surprised I didn't seize.

Have a merry christmas y'all!

E.P.A. Says 17 States Can’t Set Emission Rules for Cars

Disgusting.

Sweet Lou's: Greg's Review

The success of Sweet Lou's will depend in equal parts on its ability to accomodate drunken college students Saturday at 1 AM and the ability of these students' stomachs to accomodate Sweet Lou's waffles. I had a waffle with caramel, and the first two or three bites were delicious. If I had stopped before eating the second half, I would've even left the restaurant feeling good. But the food is so rich I felt overwhelmed by the time I finished and overstuffed thereafter. Here's what I predict:
- From now on, I'll go to Sweet Lou's approximately once a term
- I'll enjoy the beginning of my waffle immensely and loathe both it and myself once before I've eaten all of it
- I will want to avoid Sweet Lou's for the following 1-2 months before forgetting how gross I felt. Once this passes, I will not only be willing to visit again but will be actually eager to
- This cycle will repeat itself until (1) Sweet Lou's closes, (2) I graduate, or (3) PEAK OIL. We're FUCKED.

On another note: I liked "All My Friends", "Paper Planes" and stuff off Weirdo Rippers as much as the next person, that is to say, a lot. But as far as songs of 2007 that haven't been blogged about ad nauseum go, this might be my favorite. Everything I want in a hard rock song:

http://www.yousendit.com/transfer.php?action=download&ufid=A415BF4D21C5FDF2

[EDIT: I guess you have to copy and paste the link]

Also,

Yeah dude!

10k

Look at the counter. This blog will soon have 10,000 views.

Sweet Lou's: Leah's Review

Yesterday, without warning and sans Grand Opening hooplah or discount, Sweet Lou's Waffle Bar finally opened. Evan Rowe was the fourth customer and gave it a glowing review. Later, Sherod Haynes, who stopped in but didn't eat anything, told us how swanky the restaurant was and how delicious the waffles were. We toyed with the idea of going for lunch, but decided instead to make it a nighttime event (since, after concluding season one of Project Runway [Wendy Pepper, what a bitch!], there's even less to do between 7 and 11pm) and go a few hours after dinner.

Thus it happened that at 9:30pm on Tuesday, December 18, Greg, Alex, Jose (who had stopped by on his way to the grocery store), and I got in the car (because I mean come on it's cold out) and drove for the very first time to Sweet Lou's Waffles, located on 3rd and Division. (Contrary to popular belief, there's no "Emporium" in the name of the establishment.) The tattoo-parlor-turned-cutesy-specialty-breakfast restaurant is very brightly lit, with a long seating area littered with square shapes: square tile floors, square pictures of toppings on the wall, square polished tables, and square cutouts on every wooden chair. Upbeat jazz blasted from the speakers as primarily Carleton students milled about the main large area and the small side-room with leather couches. Also, it was wonderfully warm. Like, 80 degrees. I even took my coat off.

If you know me at all, you know that I'm nearly always a fan of new culinary experiences. /Any culinary experiences. I was, needless to say, probably the most excited, as Alex had already decided he hated the idea of the place and Greg was really more excited about the food than the adventure. But the boys pretended for my sake.


To order, one approaches the cash register/bar, decides from the enormous chalkboard menu what cleverly-named type of waffle she wants, and tells the cashier.
The menu is also online, in order to contemplate beforehand at http://sweetlouswaffles.com/menu.html
The place sells "breakfast" waffles (mostly berry variations), "meal" waffles (with things like hummus, sour cream, and salmon), and "dessert waffles" with chocolate, caramel, chips, etc. OR to reject conformity, one can choose their own toppings from a huge-ass list. It's like Coldstone, right!

For a regular size, the total comes to $5.06 with tax (our first complaint as COME ON who ever has .06 cents with them?). I think they also have coffeedrinks with sugar and a freezer with sandwiches/packaged cookies; but we were there for the WAFFLES. After paying, the customer's given a receipt and told to sit down. This became flaw number two -- my guess is that Sweet Lou's will likely institute a Hogan Brothers-like identification card system because those waitresses had no fucking clue how to find anyone.

We finally got our waffles: Alex ordered a Bob Dylan (salmon and sour cream), I got a Garrison Keillor (hot fudge and toffee chips), and Greg (and later Egohsa, who came late) requested a Specialty waffle with caramel.



As far as taste goes, the waffles are pretty delicious. Alex thinks he prefers "meal" waffles (the chocolate was far too sweet) and Greg and Egohsa didn't use all of their whipped cream. Problematic, though, is how filling the waffles are. I'm pretty sure if I had one at 1:25 am on a stomach full of Bacardi, I'd vomit on the walk back to Hill. Therefore, the success of Sweet Lou's, which I'm sure depends to a large extent on the irrational cravings of inebriated college students, remains to be seen.

Sweet Lou's: Alex's Review

When I stepped inside Sweet Lou's, for all I knew I could have left Northfield entirely and been in a New York restaurant... or a Denver one... or an LA breakfast place. And that is the largest problem of Sweet Lou's. With one very lame exception, Sweet Lou's is completely generic and even less inspiring a place than Blue Monday's.

But first the waffles. They're pretty tasty, and the regular size filled me up without making me feel like I stuffed myself. Being the only one who chose not to have a sweet topping (I had smoked salmon with sour cream), I'm happy that I didn't go the dessert route. Balancing the sweet of the waffle with the salmon and sour cream, I thought the waffle wasn't too bad. I tried a bite or two of Leah's "Garrison Keilor" waffle (my waffle was named after Bob Dylan... You know he's Jewish so he must have loved a knockoff of a Lox and cream cheese bagel?), and I also wasn't dissapointed, but I don't think my stomach would have been happy eating the whole plate because it would have been too sweet. So overall, the food wasn't bad. Considering that any student can make a waffle with random toppings in either dining hall, how much can you screw up a waffle, though?

So if the food isn't going to be the main draw beyond the occasional novelty dessert or dinner, why go to Sweet Lou's? Besides its proximity to campus and the likelihood that it'll be probably less crowded than Blue Mondays, I can't really see a good reason. There is nothing there that begs you to come in. As I said, except for the names of the waffles, Sweet Lou's could be just a single franchise of some national chain. And the bright lights and oddly placed leather chairs may be nice if you need to stay up to study, they certainly don't look very inviting or personal.

And having had waffles at 9:30pm sober, I seriously doubt if I would want to be drunk there at 1:30am eating the Bob Dylan special. I'll take Basil's greasy pizza, low light, and odd musical choice any drunk late night.

So that's what I've got to say about Sweet Lou's.

Rating:





2.5/5 Alexes

N.B.: For more pictures of Sweet Lou's, here's a blog post from Northfield's local blog... yeah they've got one.

At Home, With Alex

Sweet Lou's officially opened this morning at 7am. Or maybe 9am, we're still getting conflicting information about whether or not Sweet Lou was able to open onf time. But Leah, Greg, and I are soon going to try out the lux-waffles and other over-priced non-breakfast breakfast food.

They serve stuff besides waffles, right?

(I LOVE PITCHFORK! Why? They gave Rihanna and Jay-Z spot No. 5 for best song. I mean that's pretty good, even though it's No. 1 in my heart)

back in the jerz

Almost everything is the same.

New things:

1. My parents have invested in environmentally-friendly lightbulbs for the entire house. This means that it takes ~15 minutes for the lights to turn on. In another attempt to be more environmentally friendly, they have also decided to not really heat the house. So we all walk around in sweatshirts and hats, but, hey, anything for the environment, right?

2. My father has invested in a HUGE hi-def television. We used to have a small junky TV and now it's this streamlined samsung monster. The problem with a big hi-def television: any channel that isn't hi-def looks pixelated. But at least we have 4 Dexter episodes in hi-def, as well as "Step Up" and "The Nightmare Before Christmas."

3. Quakerbridge Mall in Lawrenceville, NJ has been taken over by stores selling Nikes and colorful zip-up hoodies. Also, the security guards now ride on Segways.

That's about it.

I'm almost over jet-lag and am meeting my brother at Haverford tonight to go out to dinner. Tomorrow I'm going into manhattan to see Masha in the morning, my friends Biz and Flashdrive from Rome in the afternoon (we can't go 3 days...), and Rachel, my best friend from Jewish socialist camp, in the evening. A full-packed day, that's for sure.

And then... I'll read for a week? I'm simultaneously reading Plato's "Symposium," "A Short History of Everything" by Bill Bryson and "A History of God" by Karen Armstrong. I've got my head full.

Carlmail

Hey, I keep trying to log into Carlmail, but every time it says my password is incorrect. It's been doing this for two days. Anyone else have this problem of late?

Panera Warmth = Panera Hugs

This is the equation I learned today at Panera's Planet Bread, the biggest corporate handjob I've ever been a part of. For three hours, I sat in an unheated room and listened to twentysomething middle management-types talk about how and why Panera bread is the greatest thing since... ummm... ever. I'm actually surprised they didn't make a sliced bread joke. They hit all the other bad puns: "More dough helps us go!" "Breaducation," "Knead to Know," etc.

Now, I suppose you all have a few questions: What is Panera Warmth? What are Panera Hugs? Well, Panera Warmth can be approximated through the addition of two other, equally inexplicable terms:

PW = Concept Essence + Cultural Values

Both Concept Essence and Cultural Values (CE and CV, respectively), are divided into four talking points, which are further subdivided into key ideas. Some highlights:

Cultural Values

Rule #1 [conspicuously listed as the second rule down, after No Jerks]
-We [the Panera Associates] form a connection through our authenticity and service [italics theirs].

Profit Provides Possibilies
-Profit sustains the growth of our concept and our people. [Yes, citizens, Panera is one of those noble charities for whom money is only a means, not an end]

Concept Essence

->We are a guide to discovering the warmth and energy of a lifestyle enhanced by bread. [After reading this bullet point, one of our facilitators, who couldn't find a way to uselessly elaborate on such an already useless point (his forte), simply said, "Um, yeah, I think that speaks for itself," and moved on].

We watched a timelapse of a Panera Location called A Day in the Life of a Bread Store. The soundtrack was replete with open piano chords and cello swells. The narration read thus:

This store... is alive...

...It lives [redundant?]...

...It breathes...

...It... ...Feels...

...

...It never closes...

...It only gets ready for the next day...

...When the cycle starts anew...

Beautiful. What an animal. Not much else to report, here. The Xmas spirit is really starting to flow in the FC. I bought my mom a cutting/serving board. Right up her alley. God knows what anyone else is getting. I think I'll get my brother a kick in the pants. Kid's a goddamn sack 'o potatoes. I can still beat him in Halo, thought.

Anyway, Christmas has gotten me listening to a lot of choral music, which I used to listen to/sing a lot more often than I have since I started college (i.e. never). Following that line of thought, this song is without a doubt one of my favorite Christmas songs, as well as one of my favorite songs period, sung by one of the best choirs around.

Robert Shaw Festival & Chamber Singers - O Magnum Mysterium

It's this kind of stuff that I can see myself listening to long after I quit illegally downloading every flavor of the year. Sorry, Sunset Rubdown. Immortality eludes you.

You can buy your hair if it won’t grow

So here's a picture of Alex at Winter Walk with a reindeer:


one of two photos I've taken this break.

My job is updating the SCIC wiki pages and occasionally running virus scans on laptops. I'm expected to spend my day on the computer. Mostly I check the facebook and the Sweet Lou's Waffle Bar website. Like Alex, I work 9-5, work out until 7, then watch Project Runway until bedtime. This break IS going by noticeably faster than any prior one, though. Maybe it's the wireless internet and interactions with people who are not my parents. Maybe it's warm thoughts of Tim Gunn and Austen Scarlett. Who knows?

Anne, Pieh, my coworker is watching the music video to Unpretty right now. It's like Phat Jamz all the time here in the CMC. All the time.

Limericks!

A cretin who lived in an attic
Was fallaciously rated a static.
But how little they knew,
his prick was not blue,
But hoary--and necrophilatic.



An effete young esthete, Fruity Fred,
To a faggoty friend sadly said:
When I woke up last night
Just imagine my fright
When I found a nude girl in bed!



For years all the young men had striven
To seduce a young lady named Ruthven,
Till a fellow named Bert
Poked a hole in her skirt.
(In Heaven such sins are forgiven.)



A horny professor named Ned
Dreamed off on a buxom coed:
He grabbed her, he sucked her,
He scuttlebutt fucked her--
But alas! it was all in his head.

Nothing

I feel guilty cause I read about everyone's lives, which greatly entertains me, but when I actually click to write a post, I find that everything in my head was really nothing but thought loops. In essence, my mind is empty. SHIT!

And I do nothing all day long. I mean, I go to work at 9, then I work out after work. Then project runway. Leah and I have watched all of season three and two, we're almost done with one, and we're keeping up to date with four. EXCITING!

So, I apologize about not having a life or going anywhere outside of eighth street.

holiday gifts

can we all record a really bad cover song and then swap with each other on new years/listen to them all? i think this would be funny, but i am also kind of drunk

Fan Video

Carleton Singing Knights - harder, better, faster, stronger
Uploaded by dead_lighter

Wow, the things you can find on the internet when you're bored.

And it already has 65 views! Practically a viral video.

Geez. Bros, we need some real posts goin' on. How about some life updates?

I'm fine.

Xoxo,
Colin

life.

A) i am suddenly and overwhelmingly in love with wizard people. if you haven't watched the entirety of hp1 with the wizard people narration, put it on your to-do list.

B) it was 81 degrees today in raleigh, nc (I AM HERE NOW, that was unclear)

C) i just finished 'running with scissors' and i didn't like it. it was funny but in my opinion, the writing kind of sucked.

D) last night i played a drinking game with dreidels. SO SINFUL! and i knocked over three candles (lit candles) from the menorah. sorry.

E) israel in 8 days OH MY GOSH.

plans for the day:

1. gossip more about this morning's ancient city final
2. caffe con vodka
3. art history final
4. chain smoke
5. down a bottle of wine at dinner
6. fall asleep on the couch watching law & order

The song's just all right, but the opening dialogue is priceless. Also it seems I killed the blog again, FUCK

La Ruta

Half of our nights here begin at Cafteria Castillo, this cheap bar around the corner from our university with 3-for-1's of Cruzcampo. The same tall blonde woman is at the bar every night of the week and runs the operation almost singlehandedly. She's friendly but you know she's always working hard as hell; sometimes she'll wear the same T-shirt a couple days in a row. Lately the urinal in the men's bathroom has taken to overflowing when you flush it, and now everytime you walk into the bathroom you're treading on piss. As far as I know the toilet still works fine.

Castillo closes at 1, and once you're there you're somehow always in there till close, and by that time you've probably had at least three rounds of 3-for-1's, and maybe a Heineken or two once they run out of Cruzcampo. Six people at a table and you can't even put your hands out there's so many empty bottles. Everyone's buzzing heavy and the night's underway.

Phenomenon is next. Tiny bar, same kind of crowd, only no tables so it's just a big mingling. I know a group of five or so guys there that are the closest thing I have to a group of Spanish friends. A couple of them run an MP3 blog over at therockpark.com. They like Black Rebel Motorcycle Club a lot, and I try to talk to them about shoegaze in Spanish but it's hard. The easiest thing to talk about is girls, soccer and beer.

Back to Phenomenon. Usually when I go to Phenomenon I'm there with my friend Sean, who is normally a laid back dude but once drunk lives the singular goal of making out that night. He gets beer googles. If you meet a Spanish girl, barring exceptional circumstances (so exceptional I can't even hypothesize them), the farthest you're going to get that night (or ever) is making out. The kids, especially the girls, live with their parents until they marry, meaning that every student you meet is living in the same house as their parents, and nobody brings anyone home. This possibly also accounts for why the Spanish are the worst kissers (best kissers, far and away, the Swedes...) Sean has become something of a legend at Phenomenon, has had flings with at least five of the regulars there. He's the mujerriego. Sometimes he sees this girl he dated for a while and freaks out because he feels like he can't work his game. One night he shaved down to a mohawk which the girls here alternately find irrestible and terrible. At the very least it makes him an intriguing character There are always a ton of girls there and being American makes it easy to flirt. When you consider how inane the conversations objectively are it all comes down to reading body language, so you just find a girl who has been shooting looks in your direction and go for it. The ones with short hair and bangs are always the best looking, and if they shoot you looks you feel privileged. If you're chasing a girl you just keep following La Ruta and eventually something will happen. You'll take their phone number at the end of the night but probably never call them.

If we're at Pheonemon, we're always going to end up at Aguacates, the afterhours bar. Aguacates is one-third the Phenomenon crowd and the rest are just people from all the other bars in the area. By this point I am buzzing at my most heavy and inevitably I end up talking to people here who I can never remember, but always greet me when i come back. They always remember my name and I feel bad because I don't remember ever talking again. In Aguacates I usually just hang out with that crowd of Spanish dudes, unless I'm chasing a girl. There is this one group of super cute girls there who are friends with Javi but I think are 17. One of Javi's friends tells me not to worry about it, just don't ask. Anyway, I think a few of them are 1 They stand around in a circle and sing all the songs playing over the speakers, "Highway to Hell," "Stand by Me," etc. The best part is when they rock out airguitar style during a riff. They love shit that you would probably find abhorrent, like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Last night I was chasing a short haired girl who I didn't know was friends with this group of friends. There's nothing sexual about the way these girls dance, these places are like middle school dances where the girls and guys dance separately. I dance in their circles and talk to them and hands in the dark it through the free shots of tequilla they give out towards the end of the night and this is when I feel the greatest cultural understanding of Spain. I never caught her name but I'll probably see her this weekend, since I promised Zome a mix CD on Saturday.

When Aguacates closes they give out free passes for this disco called Benevente. Benevente's in Plaza Canovas, a 20 minute walk from Aguacates, but closer to my apartment, so I do it often enough even if it's just to save money on the eventual cab ride home. Imagine the worst music played on American radio and you can get a picture of Benevente. Shitty reggaeton, some Jennifer Lopez songs, etc. Nobody dancing at Benevente is worth talking to since they're all just dancing that antisexual Spanish style, and the only guys who make moves on girls on the dancefloor there are sketchy Eurotrash looking dudes who are probably in their late 20's. If you wanna continue flirting you have to go to the back and work your game. It's always pointless because nothing is ever going to happen, but you're having a good time anyway because it's all a game and you're drunk anyway so who cares. Sometimes you have to pretend to be a boyfriend of someone to get a creep away from them and they shoot you the death eyes that only Europeans are capable of. The Italians do it hardest of anyone.

Eventually everyone gets sick of Benevente around 6 and we head home. I always sleep until 2, when dinner is promptly on the table. If I'm not too hungover I can get a few words out with my mother before I leave the house for the day.

adults are like us sometimes!

My stepmom, who I'm really close with, called me last night at midnight and we talked for 2 and a half hours. She's on new arthritis medication and she apparently had a couple drinks during our conversation and she accidentally got trrrrashed. I got a great email from her this morning:

Hi Masha!

I want to apologize to you for my condition last night
on the phone. I had a few drinks during our
conversation and apparently the mixture with the meds
I'm taking for my arthritis was potent!! I didn't
realize how altered I was until I woke this morning
with a raging hangover. I know it was very late when
we finally said goodnight and must admit that I don't
remember a lot of what we talked about -- hope I
wasn't too naughty. I need to learn not to mix
alcohol with meds.

Sorry again...it was great to talk to you. I love you
very much and am very proud of everything you're
doing.

Talk soon - while sober!!

Love,
Tracy

She's the best.

Fuck the MPAA

I dunno if any of you guys have seen This Film is Not Yet Rated, but it's pretty sweet. I started it, not planning to finish it at two in the morning, and ended up watching the whole thing. It's not revelatory, and it doesn't make me want to grab a sign, but watching a solid filmmaker blow a raspberry at a scary-oppressive/self-important system is pretty entertaining. The ending is great. Don't skip to the ending, though, the other parts are good, too. The whole movie can be streamed here, fuh free.

Things are pretty dull around here. On days where I don't work, I feel like punching someone in the face. Good thing I found a job. My new hobby is downloading so much music that I run out of hard drive space, and then culling my hard-drive. I'm really stuck on this song, right now. Check it out.

Cass McCombs - That's That

A quick note to my supporters and fellow gamers, I reached level 22 on team slayer in Halo 3 last night. I hung out there for five or six games, and then hit a spot of bad luck and lost a level. I'm still optimistic, though. I plan on making a run at 25 tonight. Gotta strike while the iron's hot; that's what Dan Buckleitner always says.

I'm going to the Colorado Carleton Club Christmas party on Thursday. It's at a huge house in an incredible neighborhood in Denver, where I will, no doubt, drink expensive wine and talk to rich/successful people. Somehow, I still can't figure out why I'm going. Next week I get to go to the Worlverine Farm Press Christmas party. I'm interning there, and I don't know the editor I'm working with that well, so I feel much cooler for getting the invite. It was most likely obligatory. Regardless, the party's at the New Belgium Brewery, which is a plus.

Thass all I got. Dan, yes, I will pay you big bux if you are right, if by big bux you mean these "decoratif objects": You could decorat your new Manhattan suite with them. Hooray Google Image Search.

Will somebody give me mega bux if this is all correct?

Iowa Caucuses:

Republican Party:
1. Mike Huckabee
2. Mitt Romney
3. Rudy Guliani

4. Fred Thompson
5. John McCain
6. Ron Paul
7. Tom Tancredo
8. Duncan Hunter
9. Alan Keyes?

The Aftermath

Huckabee carries momentum in New Hampshire, while Romney is dealt a decent-sized blow by a narrow loss, since he had banked on winning the nomination by winning Iowa and New Hampshire back-to-back. Romney pours everything he has into New Hampshire in hopes of stopping the Huckabee train's momentum, while McCain does the same in hopes of reviving his candidacy in the same place where he did so in 2000. Romney succeeds, eeking out a victory over Huckabee, who New Hampshire financial conservatives are less enamored of than Iowa's evangelicals, while McCain's candidacy is shot dead by a third or fourth place finish, since everyone who would have voted McCain has voted in the Democratic primary for Obama or in the Republican primary for Ron Paul. Rudy Guliani's failure to win Iowa and New Hampshire, his lack of appeal to the Southern conservatives slated to vote next in South Carolina, and the litany of scandals that keep dogging him make his candidacy increasingly unviable with Super Tuesday around the corner. So: Romney's hatchet men work their game in South Carolina a few weeks later to secure him another first place finish over Huckabee in a dirty, dirty competition (think Bush-McCain circa 2000) and by the time Super Tuesday rolls around the party has consolidated around Romney, who they decide is the most viable national candidate of the bunch.

Democratic Party:

1. Barack Obama
2. Joe Biden
3. Hillary Clinton

4. John Edwards
5. Bill Richardson
6. Chris Dodd
7. Dennis Kucinich
8. Mike Gravel

The Aftermath

Joe Biden is the surprise star to rise out of Iowa, and suddenly the dynamics of the race begin to shift. Biden has a motor mouth, but he also comes across as more likeable than Hillary, and actually has the decades of foreign policy that Hillary claims to have. Edwards' candidacy is obviously finished. Clinton's candidacy is in trouble going into New Hampshire, where Obama suddenly shoots into the lead in the polls with Biden gaining fast. New Hampshire is basically a three way matchup beween Obama, Biden and Hillary, and Obama wins in New Hampshire thanks to the support of plenty of disgruntled independents who like his soft-spoken and bipartisan ways. Clinton still has the name recognition and money to compete into Super Tuesday, although her star is slowly disentegrating with the support she once had falling into the Biden camp. Super Tuesday is touch and contested, but Obama beats out Biden to become the presumptive Democratic nominee.

Half of this I'm sure of, half I'm making up as I go along. But I do really think it will Obama-Romney or Obama-Huckabee.

Young money, cash money, we the champions

i would post a picture but it's gross

I don't really get hurt that much. I'm never sick, the flu this past spring was the first time I'd been sick in 3 years. I have never broken a bone. I got 2 stitches in kindergarten and that is the extent of my hospital time.

But here, I can't seem to stop injuring myself. I've been limping around the centro for the past few days.

Y'see, Nick's brother Carlos is visiting from Mexico and brought a good deal of tequila (good tequila). We sat in the courtyard shooting the shit, taking shots, then left for the bar at nearly 1 am. The bar wasn't interesting, blah blah blah, so we decided to go get HOT DOGS!

Nicholas is insane when he is drunk. Well, he's insane all the time, but mostly when drunk. Last time he was shwasted he flailed on the ground laughing maniacally and it took nearly an hour to get him up 2 flights of stairs and into bed. This time he just took off down the street.

He just sprinted down the sidewalk, running into the street into oncoming traffic, giving no thought to anyone around him. Well, except for the guy he kissed on the cheek as he ran by. I took off after him, and even though I am not very athletic, I can still run faster than Nick. I was doing a good job slowing him down, holding him back, when finally, the inevitable happened: he tripped and brought me down with him.

We lay on the pavement for a minute. The cops drove up and asked if everything was okay, and Kirsten shooed them away.

I ripped through my favorite jeans and have a cut even nastier than my ankle cut on my knee. It's pretty badly bruised and is making walking difficult. But poor Nicholas -- he could not move his legs. We tossed him into a cab and now he is on crutches!! I've advised him against going to a doctor because of my past experience, so he went straight to the hospital and should be okay. I'm just working hard on not letting this baby get infected.. I don't need anymore x-rays in Italy!

We're going back to New Jersey

Celeb Sightings in C-Ville

I awoke yesterday morning to the sound of sirens.

My house is quite removed from the road, and even in the confusion of just-having-woken-up-ness, I realized that something big had happened close by; I kept hearing sirens approach but stay close. Wandering over to my brother's (vacant at the moment) room and looking out of the window towards where my driveway winds down to the road, I saw huge plumes of dark smoke and flames rising just above the tree tops just over the crest of the hill on the property adjacent to ours (about half a mile away). At first, I thought there was a car crash on 250 (my road, wooooh), but the headline in the paper this morning proved me wrong:

Dave Matthew's Band's Bassist's House Burns Down

Fuck!

Poor guy.

I had no idea I lived next to the DMB bassist.

Oh, and that's not the end of my recent celeb run-ins (the story above counts, btw). After a quick lift at the gym, the parents and I had a nice little dinner out. At the table next to mine sat Howie Long. Howie Fucking Long.



And for giggles:


Pretty sweet, eh? Fun story: when I was about 12 I helped teach his son Chris how to snowboard. Worth noting: we weren't friends or anything, he was dating a family friend's daughter.

So yeah, we made eye contact pretty much throughout the entire dinner. I'm pretty sure he wanted me.

All in all, this has been a pretty eventful little break... or at least past 48 hours. I think the blog should be more celeb oriented.

In other Colin news, I get my wisdom teeth out on Monday. I'm planning on posting when I'm as drugged up as possible.

Oh, and while you're all enraptured with the details of my life, my new glasses finally came in today and I'm wearing them right now. It's pretty intense.

Xoxo,
Colin

our mother was the referee

I feel truly honored. (Mansha works too, right? Too bad bro doesn't really work for any of our names. The closest I suppose is Alex Sciubro. No?)

I went to a hockey game last night with my stepdad. SO MANLY. Checking is great, the crowd absolutely went wild. Oh, that booming sound of the players getting pushed into the plexiglass. Fantastic. Also, fights are ridiculous, I wish I could hear what the players were saying to each other. It was probably about their moms.

Minnesota Wild 3, Phoenix Coyotes 1. YESSSSS.

We sang a song, called the MN Wild Anthem. So intense. Minnesotans are crazy. There were 18,500 people in that arena.

MINNESOTA WILD ANTHEM

We were raised
With the stick
And a pair of blades
On the ice we cut our teeth
We took our knocks
In the penalty box
Our mother was the referee

This sport was here
Before we came
It will be here when we're gone
The game's in our blood
And our blood's in the game
Lay us down under
A frozen pond

We will fight to the end
We will stand and defend
Our flag flying high and free
We were born the child
Of the strong and Wild
In the State, the State of Hockey

A big blue line runs around our state
A line that can't be crossed
The day they try to take this game
Is the day the gloves come off

We will fight to the end
We will stand and defend
Our flag flying high and free
We were born the child
Of the strong and Wild
In the State, the State of Hockey.



I say we revise it and use it for the All-Stars.

How did I get this privilege?

Yes! The nickname "Mannah" has finally paid off!

WARNING: PICTURE OF MY ASS AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS POST

It's quarter after 11, I still have an entire art history presentation to plan for tomorrow, but whatever. I'm so done with school. Honestly, I'm pretty done with Rome. It's a pretty dirty place, it's a ridiculous place. For example: tomorrow all transportation is on strike so that they can have a 3-day weekend. They have no other real goal in mind. They have strikes like this every few weeks -- but of course I still have to be across town by 9am. Fuck you, Italy. This kind of thing would never happen in America. It just wouldn't be put up with.

I don't really have anything to say, I miss you though!

I'm so jealous that you are all home right now. I had a pretty miserable day yesterday -- I was EXHAUSTED and couldn't even hold a proper conversation. After we looked at Augustus of Prima Porta for our field trip to the Vatican Museum, I booked through it alone, listening to Orange Juice as I wandered through the Sistine Chapel, and then could barely drag my legs through the streets to catch the bus back to the centro for lunch. "I JUST WANT TO GO HOME!" was all I could say to myself. I felt better after a nap... but that feeling didn't quite leave. I am in love with my friends here... but I want to be friends with them in AMERICA.

BUT today I transferred 330 euro into my bank account and I plan on coming home with NONE.

Can anyone say FLIFF??!

ALL THE WORLD IS MY STAGE

I was trundling up Missouri highway 40 (or I-64 for you non-Missourians), with my sister and her friend/roommate. We were heading towards Kirksville, MO where I was going to drop them off at Truman State University, then continue heading up to Carleton through Des Moines. We weren't even outside the metro area of St. Louis yet, and I had just cracked open my Cherry Coke Zero, my mother's favorite 'healthy' flavor of soda.

As I was popping open the can and starting to bring it towards my mouth, the car started rocking. Much like F(x)=x*sin(x), the rocking started out with quick shifts from left to right, but soon spiraled out of control. The steering wheel twisted beneath my hands trying to maintain control, but it was no use. By this time I had taken my foot off the gas, had momentarily experimented with the break pedal, but remembered that in the case of blow-outs, the smartest thing to do is just decelerate.

But decelerating just wasn't coming quickly enough. We swerved to the right and the cement guard rail (we were on the viaduct over Woods Mill Road) came fully into view. I thought we were going to hit, but as quickly as it slid into view, it spun out again, and now we were looking at three lanes of oncoming traffic. We had turned 180 degrees.

That was the last thing I could focus on. We spun another two times, but we moved so quickly it just made me a little dizzy, and the we stopped. Except for the blown out rear tire (Alicia, my sister's friend who was sitting right above the tire, said she just felt the car drop half a foot and knew something was wrong) and the fact that I was now facing stopped traffic instead going in the correct direction, everything was the same. I was still within the middle lane and we didn't hit anything.

A police officer raced to us and blocked off all three lanes just long enough for me to turn the car around and limp it to the shoulder. That back tire made a lot of noise. It sounded like an empty tin can was supporting the entire back of the car, which doesn't seem too far off of a simile.

So. That's about the most exciting thing to happen to me in a car.

Thanksgiving in Ohio – The Recap

I haven’t been to Toledo in over 5 years. Every other member of my family made it out to my grandpa’s funeral last Winter except me; the one flight arriving on the evening before the funeral was cancelled. I’m not sure if I’ve told that to many of you. It was awful to keep hearing, “Sorry you couldn’t make it to Rex’s funeral, it would have been great to hear you speak. The service was lovely.”

Seeing my family was kind of nice, in spite of the setting being one of the more depressing cities you can imagine. Everyone who didn’t see me at Ryan’s wedding in June commented on how much I’ve grown. Besides that, I was pretty much left out of conversations, which was okay with me.

We stayed at my grandma’s house (my dad’s mom) in South Toledo. Everything is exactly as it was when my dad’s family moved there when he was in high school. On our first night in town we looked through slides dating back to the early 1970’s and recognized, in some of them, the TV that was still sitting next to the projector screen. The card table we played on in the living room has a drawer that houses the deck of cards we use next to a score card that has my late grandpa’s hand writing on it (he passed away in 1988). While talking to my brother on the phone, he asked if the clock in the dining room was still stopped at 12:00. It was.

When I visited Ohio as a kid, I didn’t quite understand what was going on. My brother and I would go off exploring somewhere, or hang out with cousins of the relatively same age, and leave the grown ups to converse. For most of this trip however, I was left to be an adult among adults and I really didn’t enjoy it.

When was it okay for me to be let in on conversations about the financial wreck most of my family is in? I don’t remember talk of foreclosures and ruined credit during any previous trips. As a kid, I remember being amused by things like the obesity of my extended family, the deafness of my grandma, or the out of control spending habits of my aunt. Not as funny now. None of my cousins of the relatively same age have gone to college, although two of them could have graduated by now. The brightest one, a year younger than I, had the opportunity to go, but turned it down and is now living with his older brother who has an ongoing battle with drug addiction. This living situation could either result in a moment of realization and resilience or another child my aunt and uncle will try to send through rehab. Everyone in that side of the family seems to be looking positively towards the future in spite of their hardships. Each cousin talked of enrolling in various educational programs in the near future. I hope dearly for their success.

Most of my visit and frustration was with my grandma. From what I experienced, her racism has gotten better, but her hearing has gotten worse. She actually let a black waiter take her plate during one lunch out and only privately complained to the manager later instead of making a scene of it like what happened last time I visited. Her inability to hear has gotten completely ridiculous. When we dare take her in public, she still points and laughs at anyone she sees with hearing aids or glasses. “Look at those stupid things in her ears,” she’ll say in what she thinks is a whisper, but is actually at a level that turns heads. Every single time the phone rang while we were visiting, even if she was next to it, someone would have to yell to her that the phone was ringing, give up, get up, and answer it themselves. A typical conversation between her and my dad would be as follows (I tried to remember this word for word to bring back as an example):

Dad: [Telling a story in the front seat of the car]

Grandma: [Accidentally interrupting from the back seat because she had no idea that dad was talking] Do you remember Phil Garrett?

Dad: Yea. [Uncle] Jeff’s friend from school?

Grandma: You know him?

Dad: [Louder] Jeff’s friend?

Grandma: Jeff’s friend from St. John’s?

Dad: Yes I remember him.

Grandma: From St. John’s, remember?

Dad: [Practically yelling] Yes, I remember.

Grandma: You don’t?

Dad: I do, I do remember.

Grandma: Oh, well, I sat behind his mom at church on Sunday. I think she moved into those new apartments down by Swan Creek. [The story continues for a much longer time with specific details about the life of a woman we don’t know or care about].

I should feel sorry for someone who has lost an entire sense, but it is really hard, especially when she refuses to get correction out of vanity. It’s impossible to interact socially with her at all. She won’t hear you. She won’t get it.

It’s difficult to express the simultaneous pity and anger I feel. Grandma is horribly, horribly lonely, and yet she is the most selfish woman I have ever met. She told my mom that she wished my Aunt Jennie would never have married her husband or would leave him and come back home to live with her forever. The amount of psychological damage she has actually done to Jennie is horrifying and impossible to really explain without seeing the two of them interact.

I was the only one drinking fairly heavily on Thanksgiving Day (due, I suppose, in part to three family members being recovering alcoholics [who thankfully remained sober]). One of my parents would pour me a glass of wine and say, “Thanks for coming, sorry about this.”

Fucking Ohio. I tell ya. I’m glad my family got out. I don’t enjoy seeing my family's roots withering like this.

On the plus side, it’s raining here in Virginia. The drought may be over.

Xoxo,
Colin

Prison is fun in the Phillipines

This is the coolest. I hope you all haven't already seen it. From "About the Video":

1,500 plus CPDRC inmates of the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center, Cebu, Philippines at practice! This is not the final routine, and definitely not a punishment! just a teaser.

The transvestite is their choreographer. I hear tell that if you look close, you can see prison guards with large guns on the towers above.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=hMnk7lh9M3o

I start work at Panera Bread Co. in 45 minutes. My brother got me the job, which is weird. Apparently they call it "St. Louis Bread Co." in St. Louis, but nowhere else. Hmm.

ALEX IS ALIVE!

http://www.theonion.com/content/magazine/do_todays_youth_have_what_it

Home!

I don't have a digital camera, so enjoy this internet picture
Well, it's been at least seven months since I've been in St. Louis, and while things have changed, the luxuries of living in a city are so much more apparent now that I've lived without them for so long. Firstly, movies. I'm going to go out and see a movie tonight. I have choices! I want to see the Cohen Brother's new movie, but I promised my parents I'd go see it with them. So my friend and I have to choose a movie. We have sooo many options (eat it Lakeville.), and I hope we go see the Bob Dylan documentary. That'llbenice.

I went to my friend's new apartment yesterday night. His whole life is completely changed. He's working at QuickTrip, and soon he'll be a salaried employee. His apartment is empty. We lead completely different lives, except he had an X-Box. It was the one detail of familiarity that created in my mind an entire connection between his life and mine. For a moment, it was completely possible in my mind that playing Halo would lead me to his life. Hopefully that's not true. And besides, he really likes playing ultra-realistic racing games. Yuck. It was good to see him even as he 'grows' up.

Why the quotes?

Who knows.

NB:
St. Louis has the highest rate of Chlamydia and Gonorrhea according to the CDC. It is also the most friendly city to cigarette smokers according to Forbes magazine. Random facts about my fair city.

SNOW!

Well, I guess since we're on break again, I'll post on the blog again. I looked out the kitchen window this morning, and this is what I saw:
COLORADO: Welcome home, Tom. I brought you some snow.
TOM: Thanks, Colorado. That was very thoughtful of you.

Here's what happens to my dog when she goes outside in the snow:
And here's a closeup with my mom warming her butt by the fire in the background:She'd kill me if she saw this on the internet. For all you Jackson Fry fans out there, here's his senior picture. It turned out way better than mine. I photographed it badly out of jealousy. Either that, or I'm a bad photographer. Neither reflects well on me:
My mom took him out to take pictures, "like, four times," by my bro's estimate. She neither confirmed nor denied this figure.

One more shot o' the backyard. Winter has arrived! Did I mention that it's sunny out, and half of this has melted already? Don't care. Snow is only necessary in the morning and at night, anyway.
Much merriment tomorrow. I am eating at least half the turkey. Perhaps I'll post some photos of my grandparents' classy-ass house, which is the kind of house I want to own. I should probably start looking into more lucrative career paths...

Fork of my Youth

When I was little, I had this special little fork. I don't remember now specifically what it was. What I do remember was that it was much smaller than the fork my parents and older brother used. It was my fork. The silver end had three prongs. The plastic end that I held had a little robot on it. In retrospect, it was probably some silly promo fork, probably for, like, Transformers, or something, but I didn't understand that. There was a sweet robot on my fork. I really liked eating stuff with that fork when I was little.

Every day during elementary school my mom would pack my lunch. I would always beg my mom to pack my fork so that I would be able to eat lunch with it. Again, I really liked that fork. There was a certain pride I felt when I ate with that fork that I have been unable to rekindle even today.

On certain very special days, my mom would give in to my request and pack my fork with my lunch.

I remember very specifically one day that she packed it and I was really excited to see it in my lunch box. I don't remember what I used to eat with it, but I felt like a king. At the end of lunch time, I would take my trash over to the big trash cans where everyone threw their trash away and where the poorer kids would return the trays on which they carried their school-bought lunch. I'm not sure what happened, but I wasn't paying very close attention to my trash that day. At some point, my very special fork got caught up on the plastic baggies and tupperware that my food was packed in. When I threw my trash away, my fork went with it. I didn't even notice at the time.

When I got home from school that afternoon I unpacked my lunchbox and found my fork to be missing.

I started crying.

I cried a lot when I was a kid, about silly things, but I have no regrets about this cry.

It's actually weird, even to this day, when I think about that little fork, and that I threw it away by accident, tears come dangerously close to my eyes.

-Colin

http://www.theonion.com/content/opinion/bro_youre_a_god_among_bros

Pre-frosh move-in day has COME.

i just saw safford wolfson and hottie-bomb-bottie ALEX WOLFF.
later i'm picking up kurchi "jojo" basu.
this day is great.

http://www.straightedgelifestyle.moonfruit.com/

The Original Influx Techtrometer

I got tagged in an unusual photo yesterday.


That is THE original Influx Techtrometer show when I was in 11th grade. A Korg on an ironing board. I used to be brilliant.

Fuck X-Box games. Fuck Arrested Development (besides, I already watched every episode in The Manhattan). I am going home and working on techno music this afternoon.

Xoxo,
Colin

UPDATE:
I will be in Northfield September 4-16.

OMGOMG

BROMECOMING!

"This Is Bowie to Bowie"

I've yet to see the show, but this is amazing.

HUNTER!

Hunter Martin has almost as many friends as I do on facebook. And he's never even been on campus.

Man, why can't I be cool like that?

Colin's [CENSORED]*

Colin has returned to Northfield.

Alex and I did not know he was coming until we saw him walking up the steps. It was most excellent. We sat around for a while in the suddenly much warmer front room, and then borrowed a van and went on what turned out to be an epic adventure to pick up some stranded canoers. The rain came down in sheets as we pounded down many a wrong turn onto dubiously marked dirt roads, harmonizing to Meat Loaf's "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)" and swerving about so as to throw the seatless and seat-beltless Steers against the van's insides. We returned home, made some surprisingly tasty Indian food before tucking in for a short [CENSORED] nap. Jose showed up at our door as we were starting Raising Arizona, Anne, Issac and Juan showed up after the movie was finished, and we drank all of our beer. Issac and I went to get more. When we came back, I caught a whiff of something suspicious, and was greeted by a giggling Alex, who, barely able to contain himself, held out a handful of prosciutto and declared "Tom Fry, I'm offering you meat."

On the whole, I'd say it was an historic Summer night. One of the best. I was right to miss you all, and still miss most of you. Hurry home; it's party time.

*Note: this document has been censored in the name of public decency.

A Thought

The girls really shoulda named their blog The All-Girl Summer Fun Blog.

Variations on a Joke

As most of you know, I work in an office at a day camp. I get out on the camp grounds once or twice a day, usually just to go grab lunch and then rock the NBA Jam machine for a little bit. So here's what I hear literally every time I step out of the office:

"Sugarman, are you wearing sunscreen? You might burn up."

"Wow, look who's outside. It's Sugarman."

"Sugarman, you can go outside? I had no idea."

"Whoa, Sugarman, I've seen you outside today twice. New record!"

"Sugarman, you get to go outside?"

Etc. etc. At first I always felt obliged to laugh at the jokes, but now it's like, homie, are you retarded? Yeah, I work in the office. That's my job. And you've made the exact same joke for 39 days straight. What I'm trying to say is, I miss clever jokes.

One of my favorite songs

This is a totally unoriginal post, but I re-re-rediscovered how awesome this song is. I know, I'm posting a video, but for some reason I hadn't seen it before and I bet a couple of you guys haven't seen it either. Watch it. If you know the song, listen to it again and realize you love it. If for some crazy reason you've never heard it before, prepare to have your mind blown.

Yup.

So, anyhoo. I hope everyone is well.

Also, I want to be the first to officially declare, Sunset Rubdown's new album Random Spirit Lover is the front runner for the Best-Album-I've-Heard-In-A-While award. It is absolutely incredible. At first... I had my doubts. But now that I've listened to it probably a dozen times on repeat, it is so unbelievably fantastic. Acquire it.

XOxo

PS: Actually, I'm not done talking about Spencer Krug yet. I know D-Shugs called this, but he is awesome. Seriously, if he ever comes out, I will begin my courtship. I have no idea how he packed so many brilliant ideas into this album. I rarely appreciates albums as albums (I'm more of a songs as songs kind of guy), but there are certain lyrical and instrumental themes that are carried through this album that work so well. There are some songs that I might not have liked if they were played alone for me, but in the context of the larger album, they work. Back to back, track 8 to track 9 (For the Pier [And Dead Shimmering] into The Taming of Hands that Came Back to Life) is a fucking knock-out one two punch. The only song I'm ever tempted to skip is track 6. It's a little too spooky. At first, I didn't like track 7 because it was just a little too spooky following track 6... but I've changed my mind. It's awesome. This entire album is awesome.

Carleton gone batty!!!

So when I was young and came back from a week at camp/my cousin's house, etc. my mom would always leave me a welcome home present on my bed -- a book, some candy, a troll doll, you know. I usually looked forward to coming home as much as going on vacation because of the kickass surprises.

I arrived home Saturday night from my week vacation in the mid-Atlantic, went into the bathroom, and found


a dead bat floating in the toilet. A FUN WELCOME HOME TO ME!!! Yeah, I just closed the lid and went to bed without dealing with it. I was going to ask facilities/Tom Fry to fish it out for me come Monday and so kept ignoring it all day Sunday until about 5 pm, when it started smelling of rot. As the pungent stench of death crept under the bathroom door into my bedroom, I decided taking action Sunday night was necessary. Tom offered to come over and pull it out but was for some silly reason concerned about contracting rabies. I called security to ask the safest way to pull a dead animal out of a toilet, and they said to flush it away. So I did. For some reason, this option made no sense earlier buuuut batwater DIDN'T overflow on the floor and the smell went away within a few hours. Back to life, back to reality.

The interesting thing is, the bat must have drowned right before I got home if it started smelling so strongly so soon. Wouldn't it have been FUN if it had drowned right after I left last Friday? I guess I'll count my blessings.

Kids are weird

I just found a journal that I had to keep when I was in 4th grade. What the hell? I can't believe the kind of stuff I used to write. I'm going to keep the context brief and just brush over some highlights of my young writings.

In the very front of the journal we apparently were given colored pencils and were told to write our name really big and list things we liked and disliked around it. My coloring skills were totally bitching and it's pretty funny that my handwriting hasn't changed at all. But anyhoo... here are the things I liked and disliked when I was around 10 years old (spelling and emphasis unchanged):

Like:

Friends
Good Grades
Vacations
Acting
Animals
Calamari
T.V.
Yale
Pets
Relitives
My dog to be
Cows

Dislike:
Bad Grades
Cowlicks
Bad Smells
MY BROTHER
Long projects
Classes
Getting rushed (was I referring to football?)
Lame Jokes

I know, right?

Here is an entry dated November 5 titled, 'Senior' Rock Stars! Should they rock on? (for some reason, when I read it, I thought about how little Greg Hunter and I would have clashed):

"Rock stars over 50, I think should stop rocking. I think this because if they're singing, their voices will never sound the same as they did in the 70's and 80's. If they're a drummer or guitarist their reflexes probably aren't what they used to be. If you add all of these together and put them in a band, what kind of music would they make? Probably trash!"

At the bottom of the page I doodled a sweet looking rock band. The drummer is saying "Ooh! Arthrides!"

Another personal fave entry is from December 11:


Today is the MOST BORING CELEBRITY DAY!

I think that the most boring celebrity is............ Oprah! All she does is sit back in a leather chair, and say, "Today we have a heartwarming tale, "' After that she sits back and goes, "Uh huh,..... Mmm..... I feel your pain sister....... No, really! Amazing.......... ...I just love that shirt, is it new?" I don't see how she can make a living off of it!


Of course, there is a doodle at the bottom of an Oprah-esque character sitting in front of a fake backdrop saying "Today we'll talk about bad beef!"

Geez.

I was an opinionated little guy. There are some more little things in here but I'm not sure if any of you guys find this as entertaining as I did.

Xoxo,
Colin

Self Portrait (3 of 21)

I got tired of waiting for Anne to make me a Planet M&M character, so I decided to make my own. I think it does me justice.

Important Public Information Post

The Minnesota Supreme Court says that a defendant is entitled to see the source code for the Intoxilyzer breath tester.

This is a 45 minute drive from my house

Colorado is so gorgeous.This is more like six hours from my house, but it's still in Colorado, and it fits the theme. That's me, and that's a wicked huge-ass drop. I was scared.

My Bro and his GF (she exists!). Anne says she looks older than him. Apparently, J knows what's up. You go, buddy.
These are the Buchanans. The twins, Zach and Jake, are HUGE Power Hour of Power fans, and will continue to be so until they figure out that I'm not that cool and that getting a request played on the radio isn't really, either. And that's my dog, Gracie.And here's a better picture of Gracie. She's pointedly ignoring my dad's favorite TV show. Good dog.
And, so he doesn't feel left out, here's my cat, Willy, former Badass King of the Neighborhood. He's a little to old to be badass, anymore. He throws up if he eats too much. Eew.Okay, so that's it. No more autobiographical pictures for a while. In other news, Anne and I are going seven for seven this week. What can we say, Alex and Leah are gone, we're lonely, and we are going to get fucking DRUNK.

Misspellings of my name in blogs/office e-mails from the past two months

-Hannoway
-Hannemeyer
-Habersham

Ghost riding the whip is taken to it's logical extreme

Talk about intertextuality of juvenile behavior.

Reality takes home the win

I watched American Movie earlier today, and it blew me away. It is easily one of the saddest, funniest things I have ever seen. Waiting for Guffman was great, and everything, but this one blows it out of the water, in no small part because it's real. I don't pretend to understand humanity's obsession with "true stories," but it plays out here. These people are all, most likely, still living in Southern Wisconsin, still drinking too much, and still borrowing money to make low-budget horror movies; the movie's humor and poignancy are unwritten and unrehearsed, and it makes a huge difference. Watch it.
I planned on putting up some more CO stuff, but I just haven't gotten around to it. What can I say, I'm lazy. Also, I'm out of time right now; I have to close the library. More later.

kanye west is from chicago

i saw james for 5 minutes while he waited for the bus to go to walgreens

The word indie is officially dead.

so awesome

russia just claimed the entire north pole.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml;jsessionid=R4YA22ACPBC1TQFIQMFCFF4AVCBQYIV0?xml=/news/2007/08/01/wpole101.xml

The Don

Then:

Now:

I almost feel sorry about how old Don looks. It's been a rough few years.

Happy Birthday Leah

I realize that I haven't posted in a while, and since I've got a free moment at work (and when I say free, I mean no one is paying attention to me to tell me to get back to work) I thought I'd update everyone on my life.

Because my life is just that riveting.

I'm almost finished with a huge Beatles biography. It's surprisingly depressing. Those four guys had some serious issues (misogyny, STDs, the Speed, unbelievable amounts of anger). Part of me is jealous that I'm not them (Twenty years old and they owned the world), but part of me is thankful I didn't grow up in depressing England and instead had a happy comfortable childhood.


People have been coming and going from Northfield. Tom just got back, Leah went a wedding (her sister-in-law? cute!), Anne's going to a wedding, and most importantly Leah and I are going to the East coast. Not together, but our flights leave within thirty minutes of each other. So Anne, can you take us to the airport on Friday? It'll be fun and you'll get to take the morning off!

This Summer has been great, but I can't wait for everyone to get back. There's only so much time you can spend do absolutely nothing.

wtf?!

I Am Crying

In his Hall of Fame induction speech on Sunday, Cal Ripken Jr. confessed that his younger brother, journeyman infielder Billy Ripken, suited up on his behalf at least two dozen times during what was thought to have been a streak of 2,632 consecutive games played. "Sometimes I just had other stuff to do," the longtime Oriole told a crowd of well-wishers in Cooperstown, N.Y.
—Baltimore Sun, July 30, 2007

Belle Nouvelle Vague: Godard's Babes of the French New Wave

It's a slow day at work, so I've decided to rank my top five babe performances from the Godard films that I've seen. I'm only using screenshots I found on the web, so some shots really don't capture the babe-related essence of the performance (e.g. Bardot's bare booty in Contempt), but you should hopefully get the picture.

1. Anna Karina in Band of Outsiders. The first time I saw Anna Karina, I fell in love. Karina is easily the most attractive woman to ever grace the screen, and she's an incredible actress to boot, as opposed to just eye candy. Her and Godard were married for a while and then got divorced, but it's like, even if they fought every single minute of the day, at the end of the day, you're sleeping next to Anna Karina, dude--Anna Karina.





2. Jean Seberg in Breathless. Seberg is beautiful, and millions of hipsters have been trying to imitate her style for decades, but Seberg outdoes them all. In Breathless she's a New York Herald Tribune-selling babe.





3. Brigette Bardot in Contempt . Bardot is an absolutely fucking bombshell, but she's not really my type. That said, she's an absolute fucking bombshell. Godard blew something like half his budget just to get Bardot in this film, and when his producers first saw it they complained that there was no Bardot nudity, so Godard went back and shot like five minutes of Bardot nude and added it as the first scene as the movie. The only thing is, he used these red and blue filters rather than just shoot it in straight color. Film critics have traditionally seen this a rebellious move because it supposedly intellectualizes Bardot's nudity, but in my book, Brigette Bardot nude is Brigette Bardot nude.





4. Anna Karina in Alphaville. In a dark, futuristic neo-noir world run by computers, Anna Karina plays a woman who is rescued from her brainwashing by a renegarde private eye. Why do we care? Because we want to walk into that movie all Videodrome style, push Lemmy Caution to the wind and have a sloppy French sci-fi make-out sesh with Karina.





5. Mireille Darc in Weekend. The extreme what-the-fuck factor in this movie makes it tough to judge the same way as any of the early '60s Godard films, but Darc is still beautiful as hell, and we do get to hear her deliver a monologue about sitting naked in a pan of milk in nothing but underwear. I couldn't find any good screenshots from the movie, so you'll have to deal with a generic picture.



RUNNER-UP: Anna Karina in A Woman Is a Woman. Because I didn't want to over-Karina in the Top 5.