tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42505325430601481852024-03-13T15:51:56.404-06:00The Wandering JewDannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.comBlogger90125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-36333805658355842342008-10-28T18:20:00.002-06:002008-10-28T18:25:25.481-06:00Wisconsin SucksIt has gotten so cold here in the past couple days. In fact, it snowed yesterday. I was mortified. However, based on principle, we are refusing to turn on our heat until after Halloween. So I sleep in layers, and right now I am wearing gloves while I type. Which would be hard enough without the puppy who has never seen gloves before and thinks they are a new toy for him to attack. Writing this paper tonight is going to be virtually impossible.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-18935346656919732592008-10-20T13:55:00.005-06:002008-10-20T15:01:06.467-06:00Mildridiots, Volume 5To be honest, I could do a hundred more Mildridiots, all devoted to awful things <a href="http://thewandringjew.blogspot.com/2008/10/mildridiots-volume-4.html">Morgan</a> does. Every day when she comes into work, she asks me things like, "Did you prep roast beef?" and, "Did you slice tomatoes?" She apparently thinks she's my boss. I always respond with, "Yes, that's my job," extra sarcastically.<br /><br />She also scolded a customer last Saturday. The customers always place their order at the counter, sit down while we make it, and then we call them up to grab their plates and pay. But she has decided to turn everything on its head and make them pay when they order, which causes a ton of confusion, since some of these people have been doing it the normal way for the past 30 years. So a customer came in, placed his order, and then walked to a table and sat down, like he's done for years and years. When the sandwich was done, she called him up, and said, "Okay, now you have to pay. You should have paid earlier, but you just walked away from me. I was like, 'What the hell?' " Yes, she did say all of that to a customer. A customer who knows how this place operates much better than she does.<br /><br />Anyway, let's meet some new people:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Paranoid ATM User<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span>The first customer on Sunday, this guy called in his order and came in to pay with a credit card. I apologized and told him that we don't accept cards, but we do have an ATM. He looked like I had <span style="font-style: italic;">crushed</span> his soul. I've never seen anyone that devastated about using an ATM. After thinking it over for a solid minute of awkward silence, he decided to withdraw the money. Upon entering his card and his information, the ATM told him that he would incur a $1.75 surcharge. At this, he went from crushed to irate.<br /><br />"What is this? Are you trying to fleece me?!" he demanded.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span>"No, we don't take the surcharge for ourselves," I assured him, but my words fell on unforgiving ears. The damage was done. I received not a single cent tip for his large order. Jackass.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></span></span></span>He also tried to tell me that we used to take credit cards, and when I told him that we never have, he told me I was wrong. He was exactly the kind of person I wanted to see first thing in the morning after waking up to a shit waterfall outside my room.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Courtney<br /></span></span></span></span></span>Since I introduced you to Morgan, I figured I should also tell you about some of the other coworkers. Courtney is in her early-to-mid-twenties, with many piercings, crazy-colored hair, and is currently going back to college for the third time in her life. She moved out of her parents' house when she was a teenager, and has been working for $6.50 ever since. She enjoys drinking, doing the occasional drugs, and not working.<br /><br />She frequently calls in "sick," but then admits under further questioning that she is either too drunk to come in (at 4 PM), or she hasn't slept yet because she was up all night drinking. At first, this was annoying, but now I've gotten used to just saying, "No," when I don't want to come in. And it's actually kind of nice to have so many options for extra work if I ever want some more money. Plus she's always up for a switch in schedules if I want to go somewhere for the weekend.<br /><br />On Saturday she told me that her dog, Spaz, might be put down. Apparently he has bitten about 13 people, and one guy finally complained. Now, Spaz is this goofy little pug, whose bites are more like nips and honestly can't hurt anyone. So the guy who is calling Animal Services and DEMANDING that they kill this adorable pug is pretty insane. But Courtney also needs to get her dog under control. As she said herself: "He bites me and Noah [her boyfriend] all the time, and he's broken the skin twice. But we're always like, 'You're so cute!' " And then she instantly went into how ridiculous the guy was being. She's utterly incapable of seeing how some people may not find getting bit by a dog is cute.<br /><br />So she's a mess.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span>Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-78151117606909209132008-10-19T09:20:00.003-06:002008-10-20T13:55:00.982-06:00There's Nothing Like Waking Up To Your Roommate's Shit Raining On YouThis weekend was nothing like I described in my last post. It was so, so much worse.<br /><br />First, my cousin ended up not coming. He was going to be in town for an Ultimate Frisbee tournament, but when I called him on Friday, he said he had been demoted to the B-Team for missing two games, so he was being sent to Nebraska instead of Wisconsin (what a brutal punishment, huh?). When I talked to him, he was in the car with his two roommates, drinking, while his little brother drove them to Nebraska. And they were all listening to Fergie. So it seems like he at least was having a good weekend.<br /><br />Last night, nothing notable happened at the trailer trash party. They were all rather well-behaved, and my friends and I actually stayed upstairs most of the night to watch Sarah Palin on SNL (how great was that episode compared to most others?!). Everything exciting happened after the party.<br /><br />We left to get some pizza at around 12:30, and when we returned at 1:30, the party was already over. But we could hear some loud moaning coming throughout the entire house. "YES! YES! KEEP COMING!" my roommate's trashy girlfriend shouted. Upon further investigation, we realized that they were not upstairs in his bedroom - they were having sex in the basement on the nasty, mildewy couch that we found down there when we moved in!<br /><br />So they finished up while I was taking Bark Antony outside. The roommate's girlfriend (they're Jessie and Steve, for future reference... hopefully they don't read this) stumbled outside and said to me - keep in mind she had just finished having sex with her boyfriend not two minutes prior - "God, you're sexy. If only I was single."<br /><br />"Yep," I responded. "Magic would surely happen."<br /><br />Eventually I got Antony back inside and into his crate to go to sleep, and as I climbed into bed, I heard a familiar sound 'round these parts - "GO TO FUCKING HELL, YOU BITCH!"<br /><br />Yes, Jessie and Steve were having their weekly epic fight. Last week, the fight was so bad that the neighbor's called a domestic violence report to the police, and they showed up pounding on our door at 4 AM. This week, no such luck, but the fight was pretty much as intense as last week.<br /><br />No one ever knows what they fight over, but it sounded like she was slapping him and he was asking what he did to deserve getting slapped and alternating between screaming, "I FUCKING LOVE YOU!" and "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"<br /><br />Finally, they quieted down and I drifted off to sleep, already pissed at how late I had been forced to stay up when I just wanted to get a decent amount of sleep before work in the morning.<br /><br />Around 3 AM, I woke up to the sound of a veritable waterfall outside my room. My instant assumption was that someone was either puking or peeing in the hallway, so I got up to investigate.<br /><br />First, let me explain that earlier in the day (seriously, around, like, noon), our roommate Jon had clogged the toilet upstairs, and then had tried to fix it, which resulted in the toilet filling to the brim with water so it could no longer be plunged without overflowing. So what did he do? JUST LEFT IT. Didn't try to get the water down, didn't call maintenance, NOTHING.<br /><br />Well, someone must have flushed it during the night, because brown water was pouring out of the ceiling down onto our floor. I raced upstairs to see what was happening, and discovered the worst sight ever: <span style="font-style: italic;">a two-inch deep puddle on the floor of the upstairs bathroom and hallway, with hundreds of little pieces of shit floating in it.</span><br /><br />And it had soaked through the floor and was raining down on me. An artist's rendition:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPziBXNLyuI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/PFsyLVNlNyQ/s1600-h/RainingShit5.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPziBXNLyuI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/PFsyLVNlNyQ/s400/RainingShit5.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259326977898957538" border="0" /></a><br />Unbelievably irate, I grabbed a piece of Tupperware from upstairs, threw it under the stream of shit water, and went back to bed. When I woke up, the shit had dried, but Steve was brushing his teeth down in our bathroom (understandably), and he was even more pissed than I was (again, understandably, since his room had been invaded by a widening lake of shit in the night).<br /><br />So... I'm going to enjoy these five hours at Mildred's and just hope all the problems at home are solved and/or everyone is dead when I get back.<br /><br />College!Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-39286942254458703962008-10-16T14:53:00.010-06:002008-10-16T15:11:08.671-06:00Pictures of My Dog and The X-Files Best Moments, Episodes 9 and 10!Wow. Almost a week since my last post. I apologize. I haven't even been doing that much. Although I was supposed to finish reading <span style="font-style: italic;">Invisible Man</span> by today for a class, so I've been frantically plowing through that for the past week when I realized that it is impossibly long. I almost made it, too - only 50 pages short! Is that an excuse enough for you?<br /><br />Anyway, let's do this bullshit that no one looks forward to:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPeqRhoIhCI/AAAAAAAAADY/h5sUaH_43gk/s1600-h/vlcsnap-9947437.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPeqRhoIhCI/AAAAAAAAADY/h5sUaH_43gk/s320/vlcsnap-9947437.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257858308039541794" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">This astronaut was possessed by an... alien ghost,<br />I think? And it sometimes made his face into the<br />"face" carved into the surface of the moon.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPeqgeTNgWI/AAAAAAAAADg/LxXLz9OdzMU/s1600-h/vlcsnap-9947676.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPeqgeTNgWI/AAAAAAAAADg/LxXLz9OdzMU/s320/vlcsnap-9947676.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257858564844519778" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">I wasn't joking about the alien ghost.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPeqqaiyIMI/AAAAAAAAADo/SkwwTq64PZw/s1600-h/vlcsnap-10788553.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPeqqaiyIMI/AAAAAAAAADo/SkwwTq64PZw/s320/vlcsnap-10788553.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257858735634784450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">And then in the next episode, an invisible alien<br />(notice how their aliens are never fully visible, to<br />save money?) REALLY wanted to take this guy<br />on his spaceship.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPeq45SaqMI/AAAAAAAAADw/VagxmYcVp1c/s1600-h/vlcsnap-10788698.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPeq45SaqMI/AAAAAAAAADw/VagxmYcVp1c/s320/vlcsnap-10788698.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257858984405805250" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">I assume the aliens wanted to study grunge fashion.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;">Also, I have a new article!<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></span>It's my review of<span><span><span> <a href="http://dailycardinal.com/article/20862">"Towelhead."</a> Not an interesting read, really, but good movies never make for exciting reviews.<br /><br />I feel like all I do on this blog anymore is plug my reviews and post lame X-Files pictures. So here's what's going on in my life this weekend: my cousin is coming to visit, so I'll try to show him a good time around Madison and I'll try to document it for your viewing pleasure. And my roommate's white trash girlfriend is hosting a party at our house for some reason. (I'm not joking about the white trash thing. Although she assured me that she doesn't want the party to "get ghetto," but all of her friends are "super preppy" because their dads own roller coasters.) I will try to remember to keep my camera on hand at all times, because something awesome has to happen when you mix 20 trailer park girls and a bunch of cheap beer.</span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span></span><span><span><span>And, to make sure I haven't totally wasted your time, here are some pictures of Bark Antony:</span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPes95LeleI/AAAAAAAAAD4/YYmnnxmYDfM/s1600-h/IMG00122.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPes95LeleI/AAAAAAAAAD4/YYmnnxmYDfM/s320/IMG00122.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257861269299303906" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">I thought his ears were going to stand straight<br />up, but for the past month only his left<br />ear has stood up, making him look pretty<br />stupid most of the time.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPetSztFNiI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Z0Hju9tE89M/s1600-h/IMG00125.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPetSztFNiI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Z0Hju9tE89M/s320/IMG00125.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257861628606887458" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Antony and his BFF Apollo taking over my<br />favorite chair.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPetdoy9t7I/AAAAAAAAAEI/F8UH7d_BuLs/s1600-h/IMG00131.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SPetdoy9t7I/AAAAAAAAAEI/F8UH7d_BuLs/s320/IMG00131.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257861814657333170" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleeping with one ear up and his tongue<br />sticking out. How embarrassing.<br /></span></div></div></div>Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-31090429498619959452008-10-10T10:34:00.003-06:002008-10-10T10:40:03.534-06:00In Which The Sarah Silverman Article Goes to Print, And They Fuck It UpMy two latest articles for the Cardinal are a review of <a href="http://dailycardinal.com/article/20729">Beverly Hills Chihuahua</a> and my interview with <a href="http://dailycardinal.com/article/20763">Sarah Silverman</a>. For once, they didn't edit a single word I wrote in the interview story, but they did censor her quite a bit. They cut a couple shit jokes and a joke about Osama bin Laden, which is weird because there's enough stuff left in there to offend anyone as it is.<br /><br />But what's even weirder is that they didn't promote it at ALL. You'd think if we got to interview a big name like her, we'd make a big deal about it, but they didn't even include a picture of her, let alone promote the interview on the front page to let you know that it was in there.<br /><br />Our rivals, the Badger Herald, published their story a day after ours, but even though the writer - in my opinion, at least - isn't as good as I am (sorry, whoever you are), they gave him the royal treatment: pictures, promotion, and a damn good headline.<br /><br />My headline when it was published was "Sarah Silverman Talks About Season Premier" or whatever. My headline that I submitted with the article was "Sarah Silverman Talks Show, Politics, and Pubes". Guess what the headline for the Badger Herald article was? "Sarah Silverman Talks Obama, Osama, and Pubes".<br /><br />WHY AM I NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE A HEADLINE WITH PUBES?Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-32770819257201471612008-10-09T21:32:00.010-06:002008-10-09T21:45:25.915-06:00HALLOWEEN MADNESS: The X-Files Best Moments, Episodes 7 and 8!Episode 7 was lame. A computer was attacking people. The only thing I liked about it is that it proved my point that <span style="font-style: italic;">Eagle Eye</span> was nothing new.<br /><br />Episode 8, however, kicked ass. It was such a great little horror movie condensed into a 43-minute episode.<br /><br />Basically, some dudes were up in the Arctic, drilling for ice samples, but they happened to be doing it above a meteor crater. So alien worms got into their brains and made them kill everyone at the research lab.<br /><br />The episode was really well done, especially in showing the growing paranoia of the crew sent up to investigate (headed by Mulder and Scully, obviously, but also made up of Felicity Huffman and Bania from "Seinfeld"). Definitely their best episode yet.<br /><br />Here are some crazy pictures:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7OgXfSXlI/AAAAAAAAACw/2nmSOOmotCQ/s1600-h/vlcsnap-5314085.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7OgXfSXlI/AAAAAAAAACw/2nmSOOmotCQ/s320/vlcsnap-5314085.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255364870644325970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">So first this dude had these weird black things<br />in his armpit, and I was like, "Shit, he's fucked."<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7Or47mZDI/AAAAAAAAAC4/7Fj0Y-y5qgQ/s1600-h/vlcsnap-5315972.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7Or47mZDI/AAAAAAAAAC4/7Fj0Y-y5qgQ/s320/vlcsnap-5315972.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255365068600009778" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Then they looked through a microscope<br />at some blood and the alien just looked like<br />sperm with spikes.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7O2uvoVAI/AAAAAAAAADA/_TkKilGOP4Q/s1600-h/vlcsnap-5318133.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7O2uvoVAI/AAAAAAAAADA/_TkKilGOP4Q/s320/vlcsnap-5318133.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255365254844011522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">But then the pilot tried to kill them all, so<br />they obviously held him down and ripped<br />a worm out of the back of his brain.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7PDeJjdVI/AAAAAAAAADI/dChtViLjV7M/s1600-h/vlcsnap-5319062.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7PDeJjdVI/AAAAAAAAADI/dChtViLjV7M/s320/vlcsnap-5319062.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255365473727640914" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">This is the worm. It was really fake-looking.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7PPqLXYYI/AAAAAAAAADQ/mZfjXDRsmS8/s1600-h/vlcsnap-5322256.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SO7PPqLXYYI/AAAAAAAAADQ/mZfjXDRsmS8/s320/vlcsnap-5322256.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255365683114893698" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">And then, to close out the episode,<br />Felicity Huffman got naked and Scully felt her<br />tits. Seriously.<br /></span></div>Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-25950359151364681792008-10-07T21:09:00.006-06:002008-10-07T21:18:17.633-06:00The X-Files Best Moments, Episode 6!I have to admit, this episode bored the shit out of me at first. Boring ghost story, blah blah blah, he's in love with this woman and is protecting her even after he's dead.<br /><br />But then crazy Exorcist shit started happening, and it suddenly became the strongest episode yet.<br /><br />I mean, first, Mulder and Scully were reviewing surveillance footage, when they noticed something strange:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOwk41j9o9I/AAAAAAAAACQ/KL4hLaxyTL4/s1600-h/vlcsnap-1948565.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOwk41j9o9I/AAAAAAAAACQ/KL4hLaxyTL4/s320/vlcsnap-1948565.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254615424103719890" border="0" /></a>So they enhanced the quality, and what did they discover?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOwlLBhLoRI/AAAAAAAAACY/thDpsuQYs7s/s1600-h/vlcsnap-1949169.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOwlLBhLoRI/AAAAAAAAACY/thDpsuQYs7s/s320/vlcsnap-1949169.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254615736550924562" border="0" /></a>A CREEPY GHOST SMIRKING AT THEM.<br /><br />Shit only got weirder from here. First, the woman's bath filled with blood (noticeably coming from the two holes drilled in the sides of the tub):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOwldo32RKI/AAAAAAAAACg/9desSwVpTOY/s1600-h/vlcsnap-1950877.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOwldo32RKI/AAAAAAAAACg/9desSwVpTOY/s320/vlcsnap-1950877.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254616056352621730" border="0" /></a><br />Then, Mulder came into her house and discovered a floating dude, who was currently having his throat crushed by the ghost.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOwlqUDuQHI/AAAAAAAAACo/XevATjqqlRU/s1600-h/vlcsnap-2629505.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOwlqUDuQHI/AAAAAAAAACo/XevATjqqlRU/s320/vlcsnap-2629505.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254616274103582834" border="0" /></a>Ultimately it was another (sort of) happy ending, but I didn't care about the resolution, because so many crazy ghost shenanigans had gone on that I was already thrilled with the episode. Hopefully there are more like this the closer we get to Halloween.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-63547207665967982282008-10-06T18:22:00.002-06:002008-10-06T18:25:10.057-06:00Now That It's Cold, This Is What I'm Wearing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOqsGD5uckI/AAAAAAAAACA/pVhgy8n6-sE/s1600-h/IMG00120.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOqsGD5uckI/AAAAAAAAACA/pVhgy8n6-sE/s400/IMG00120.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254201135407723074" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here's the back of it:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOqsGPgmTLI/AAAAAAAAACI/_fiFLkZGRE0/s1600-h/IMG00121.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOqsGPgmTLI/AAAAAAAAACI/_fiFLkZGRE0/s400/IMG00121.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254201138523557042" border="0" /></a><br />(Made with the help of <a href="http://cafepress.com">Cafepress</a>).Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-88416796293751693102008-10-06T14:56:00.003-06:002008-10-06T16:52:59.974-06:00Mildridiots, Volume 4This is a very special volume of Mildridiots. You see, my roommate recently quit for another job, so our latest Mildridiot is the newest employee!<br /><br />Her name is Morgan, and she is a bitch.<br /><br />Let me provide some examples. First, I should preface it by saying that she lives in the apartment above the store that Nels rents out. (The only reason this restaurant hasn't gone out of business in the past 30 years is because he owns the entire building and rents out the top floors, so they pay for our lack of customers.)<br /><br />On Thursday, it was Bodnar's last day, so I accompanied him for what was sure to become a sob-fest as he closed down Mildred's for the last time. (I also accompanied him for the free food, of course.) We drove his car, and as we were parking in Mildred's lone parking spot, we accidentally ran over a dead, rotting log.<br /><br />The second he got out of the car, Morgan was out on her balcony, and she instantly said, "Are you going to pick that up?" while pointing at the dead log that was smashed to bits.<br /><br />"Uh... what?" he asked. Keep in mind during this that Morgan had no idea whether or not we were employees. For all she knew, we could have been customers she was chewing out.<br /><br />"That log there. That was a really nice thing that Nels had." What the hell? That dead log was really nice? In the six months that I have worked here, I have never once seen Nels go out back to take care of his log (sexual innuendo definitely not intended).<br /><br />Naturally, my roommate got pissed that she was trying to insinuate that she knows Nels better than us, or even that she had the balls to say anything about this stupid log at all. "Oh, really? So you know Nels, like, really, really well, then?" he snapped. Frankly, she deserved such a sarcastic onslaught. She tried to respond, but he just stormed inside before she could even say anything.<br /><br />So of course I was looking forward to Saturday, when I would be training her. I didn't think she'd have the cojones to mention the incident to me, but OF COURSE she did. Within the first ten minutes, she said, "I'm so glad it's you here and not your idiot roommate." Did she really just come in to train with me and in the first ten minutes call my best friend an idiot? I just brushed it off with a, "Yeah, he's really awesome," and moved on.<br /><br />I also was able to more or less ignore her terrible customer service, such as saying, "Right on, dude, you've got the perfect amount of change! $4.20!" to this elderly guy who had no idea what her stupid stoner joke meant. I also ignored the fact that it took her over 10 minutes to make two Leadbedders, our most basic sandwich. I know it's her first day, but it's not like it's her first day on Earth. A baby could have figured out which side of the bread to put the mayo on faster than she did (seriously, she asked what side the mayo goes on, to which I responded, "THE INSIDE"). Although, I did make it up to the customer by sneaking a free cookie in her bag with a note attached to it that said, "Sorry about the wait!"<br /><br />But I could no longer ignore her when she started telling me how to do my job. First, she wouldn't let me reuse a piece of wax paper that had touched a different slice of bread. Then, when I was showing her how to slice an onion, she virtually demanded that I throw away segments of the onion that were either too thin or too thick. Nels would have gone insane had he been there - he throws literally NOTHING away. He has an entire jar of dead seeds (which he already got his money back for, because they were dead when he bought them) that has sat on the shelf for several years. Keep in mind these are dead, completely useless seeds that he essentially got for free. And he can't bear to throw them out.<br /><br />So I said, "No, we don't throw anything out here unless it is totally useless. Nels would have your head." But she decided to ARGUE with the guy training her! "Oh, come on, man. Just get rid of them."<br /><br />Naturally, I yelled at her. "Okay, listen. I'm training you. Not the other way around. Don't tell me how to do my job."<br /><br />That shut her up for a while, but she made a few more passive-aggressive comments about how I apparently don't know how to work here.<br /><br />Joke's on her, though. The next day, she had to work 6 hours alone after my morning shift, so I under-prepped and left her stranded on her second day, alone and without any cheddar, cucumbers, or tomatoes. I plan on doing this every Sunday for the next few weeks. HA! How's that for passive-aggressive, bitch?Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-17626411709267831002008-10-05T12:45:00.004-06:002008-10-05T13:02:44.516-06:00My White Roommates Learning Dance Moves From MTV2Last night, we discovered our On Demand system contains how-to videos from MTV2 that teach all the hottest dance moves kids are doing these days. My awkward, white, nerdy roommates decided to learn a couple.<br /><br />First up, the Biz Markie. Fairly basic, and I think he nailed it pretty well. Ignore the dog fight in the background.<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwoMsggQedbu0s4FhNCL4AqbN0ShD6UStHLF1Z-B6AhPg9FOEtIP9H_EVwyjyAf8onpAz3Y4yn0yTD6a6SPTw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br />Next they attempt to master something called "Jookin' It," which was taught by some group from America's Best Dance Crew. This one is much more difficult, which means the result is all the more hilarious. (Important note for animal lovers: he isn't seriously that mean to his dog. He was joking. This is much more important than dogs.)<br /><br />Man, I just watched the video and my commentary is retarded. Ignore it.<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzIVrMCj2jzQzfo7PDZ6-Mwd-Qz_Zq6cign_7OeNNlt_oob2AXb1DIDivDgy7CL1tpU_DL1GdLag91hUulS9w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />And now, the entire routine comes together. Watch my roommates totally serve each other.<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyORlEqVlUHr0tux1Sh9Xbl8eiOrE3MS8hUrmBbs6o5xaFLP8rkpfgm499jYoRJn1wOGFdGt7MWkCF5ilqLGw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />This was a stupid post. I apologize.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-51583140771579055792008-10-03T11:57:00.003-06:002008-10-03T12:08:52.684-06:00An Afternoon With Sarah SilvermanActually, just a conference call.<br /><br />That's right, I interviewed Sarah Silverman for the past hour for an article I am writing about the newest season of the "Sarah Silverman Program."<br /><br />She was hilarious and really nice - other than the time when she called us all "fucking fat" - and made it a much more enjoyable interview than Michael Chiklis (not that he was mean or terrible or anything, he just didn't tell as many jokes about shit).<br /><br />But she wasn't the star of the show. Oh, no, not by a longshot. This MORON decided that rather than doing some in-depth reporting or asking a question that would help him write his story, he would spend his one question sucking up to her. This is how he decided to play things:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Idiot:</span> Hey, Sarah. I'm Jewish, too, so, you know, we have that special bond.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah:</span> Uh... Great!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Idiot:</span> My question is, um, what question should a reporter ask to convince you that he should write on your show? (<span style="font-style: italic;">Ed. note: HE SERIOUSLY FUCKING ASKED THAT.)</span><br /><br />I don't remember what Sarah said in response, because I was seething with rage that this moron was making us all look like retards.<br /><br />Also, the first three questions were about her "Great Schlep" viral video, and about Obama. Seriously?! That's what you're going to all ask her about when she's here to talk about her new show? She actually said, "I feel like I should be plugging my show, not talking about this."<br /><br />Oh, and some starstruck girl asked her what celebrities she has met.<br /><br />I went last again (seems it'll be that way every time, because there aren't many schools that come after "Wisconsin - Madison"), and we had gone about 10 minutes over the designated time. So here is how my glorious interview went:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator Jill: </span>Alright, our last question is from Danny.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> Hey, Sarah.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah: </span>Hey, D--<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jenny from Comedy Central: </span>Sarah, we're out of time!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah: </span>Is that Jenny? Hi Jenny!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jenny: </span>Hi Sarah! How are you?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah: </span>I'm well!<br /><br />I was dumbstruck. Luckily Sarah is awesome and intervened and said she could take one last question. But that totally threw me off. Of COURSE I'm the one to get cut off. I bet the asshole from the Badger Herald (our rival newspaper) was giggling to himself. But I think we all know who asked the better question. I asked her, "Do you have any plans to release another CD or movie like <span style="font-style: italic;">Jesus Is Magic</span>?" because, frankly, I've been dying for a Sarah Silverman stand-up CD. The Badger Herald asked, "You are very good at getting your audience to respond with awkward, uncomfortable silence. Do you try for that reaction?" Her answer: "No."<br /><br />I definitely won in this interview.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-91150393018579970992008-09-30T20:50:00.008-06:002008-09-30T21:04:37.902-06:00HALLOWEEN MADNESS: The X-Files Best Moments, Episodes 4 and 5!Let's face it, nothing exciting happened in these two episodes. Let's just get it over with.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOLl6YR54pI/AAAAAAAAABg/WbQXUilhSBs/s1600-h/vlcsnap-11834962.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOLl6YR54pI/AAAAAAAAABg/WbQXUilhSBs/s320/vlcsnap-11834962.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252012906580140690" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">This stupid kid wanted to go see some aliens.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOLmFfV2piI/AAAAAAAAABo/pteDJjlX-fE/s1600-h/vlcsnap-11819008.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOLmFfV2piI/AAAAAAAAABo/pteDJjlX-fE/s320/vlcsnap-11819008.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252013097454315042" border="0" /></a><br />That second picture is what the aliens did to a bartender's ear. Actually, that was pretty damn awesome. I mean, look at that thing!<br /><br />In the next episode, Mulder pretty much fell in love with some Neanderthal woman living in the New Jersey woods. This was a waste of an episode except for two hilarious things. One, the police sketch of the Neanderthal:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOLmZpkoQ5I/AAAAAAAAABw/F9Lk8C5Fpl8/s1600-h/vlcsnap-14368038.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOLmZpkoQ5I/AAAAAAAAABw/F9Lk8C5Fpl8/s320/vlcsnap-14368038.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252013443798025106" border="0" /></a>She's got some sweet, sweet titties.<br /><br />But even better than that was getting to see what Scully apparently wears on dates:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOLmjimVrDI/AAAAAAAAAB4/aQ1U69dG2ZQ/s1600-h/vlcsnap-14368554.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SOLmjimVrDI/AAAAAAAAAB4/aQ1U69dG2ZQ/s320/vlcsnap-14368554.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252013613724838962" border="0" /></a>That ridiculous lacy wedding dress with shoulder pads is an AWESOME choice for a first date.<br /><br />In other Halloween news, I have decided what I am going to be this year. Green Man from "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia"! I ordered the suit today (don't even ask how much I spent on this ridiculous purchase).<br /><br />Don't know who I'm talking about? Enjoy <a href="http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid1620640832/bclid1759767569/bctid1825615717">this</a> clip from last week's episode, in which Green Man made a glorious reappearance (also take note of Kaitlin Olson's brilliant performance). Unfortunately the FX website doesn't allow me to embed the video here for your enjoyment. Laaaame.<br /><br />The costume is part of a group, believe it or not. No one is going to understand our theme without it being explained, but whatever. My roommate Bodnar will be going as Dexter, and my roommate Jon will be going as Don Draper. Our theme is obviously "Our Favorite Characters From Minor Cable Networks".<br /></div></div>Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-793939032684934582008-09-27T13:12:00.002-06:002008-09-27T13:14:09.883-06:00I Am Sick of "Eagle Eye"<a href="http://dailycardinal.com/article/20563">Here's</a> my article from my interviews with DJ Caruso and Michael Chiklis.<br /><br />I also had to go see the movie yesterday, and now I'm writing the review. WHEN WILL I BE DONE WITH THIS MOVIE?! But seriously, it wasn't terrible. Kind of a stupid plot, but still very entertaining.<br /><br />Oh, and I'm interviewing Sarah Silverman on Thursday. These are my current thoughts: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-79585470149859839602008-09-25T21:04:00.002-06:002008-09-25T21:16:27.581-06:00MOVIE REVIEW: "This Movie Sucks"Once again, the subject line was my original title for my movie review this week.<br /><br />I was forced to go see "My Best Friend's Girl," which was incredibly terrible. Way too bad to even laugh <span style="font-style: italic;">at</span>, let alone with.<br /><br />So my review can be found at The Daily Cardinal's <a href="http://dailycardinal.com/article/20564">website</a>. The headline in the online version makes no sense - they made a typo and it should read "Dane Cook Can't Score With blah blah blah" instead of whatever nonsense sentence it currently reads. Just so you don't think I'm retarded.<br /><br />This was actually my second article in today's paper. The first was from my interview with Chiklis. Unfortunately for you, it's not online yet for some reason. When you click on it, all there is is an error message.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-55317678935368861202008-09-24T22:33:00.004-06:002008-09-24T22:41:15.629-06:00HALLOWEEN MADNESS: The X-Files Best Moments, Episode 3!Finally we get a fairly creepy episode!<br /><br />This third episode started with some dude walking down the street with a scary pair of eyes glaring at him from a sewer grate.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNsVG3Y_LLI/AAAAAAAAABQ/gZWtKHw06eI/s1600-h/vlcsnap-7561291.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNsVG3Y_LLI/AAAAAAAAABQ/gZWtKHw06eI/s400/vlcsnap-7561291.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249812998322597042" border="0" /></a><br />Seriously, it was much creepier to see than it sounds.<br /><br />After that, it was all sort of downhill, which is surprising, considering the villain this week could squeeze into tight spaces, was over 100 years old, hibernated for 30 years at a time in a nest made out of human bile, and murdered people by ripping their livers out.<br /><br />But, I don't know, once you got to see the guy and he was revealed to be just some dude wearing yellow contacts, it wasn't that scary. Look how pathetic he looks:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNsV1TbpqtI/AAAAAAAAABY/ag3jdCuh7AY/s1600-h/vlcsnap-7596212.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNsV1TbpqtI/AAAAAAAAABY/ag3jdCuh7AY/s400/vlcsnap-7596212.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249813796123945682" border="0" /></a><br />But the eyes in the beginning? Totally eerie.<br /><br />Tomorrow I'll post my two articles from the Daily Cardinal. That's right: two! One is the story I did from the interviews with DJ Caruso and Michael Chiklis about <span style="font-style: italic;">Eagle Eye</span>, and the other is a review I did of <span style="font-style: italic;">My Best Friend's Girl</span>, which was a despicable movie and therefore a really fun review to write.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-89440082569441497912008-09-24T14:06:00.006-06:002008-09-24T14:22:22.801-06:00HALLOWEEN MADNESS: The Return of the Halloween SuperstoreEarlier today, Bodnar and I took a trip to our local Petsmart (I'm still confused - is it Pet's Mart or Pet Smart?) to get our respective puppies some more food and also to engrave a kickass dog tag for little Bark Antony (his name is written BARCVS ANTONIVS, so if he's lost there's no way anyone is going to call me and try to tell me they found my dog). But before we even got to the Petsmart, what did we see had sprung up next door the way it does every year like that house the Order of the Phoenix hides out in?<br /><br />A HALLOWEEN SUPERSTORE.<br /><br />I'm sure you all are familiar with these magnificent oases, which vary in size from a truck in some dude's driveway to this one, which had filled a whole fucking warehouse.<br /><br />Just LOOK AT THIS:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNqfHdO4H0I/AAAAAAAAAA4/hA4lv1Wsw2c/s1600-h/IMG00109.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNqfHdO4H0I/AAAAAAAAAA4/hA4lv1Wsw2c/s320/IMG00109.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249683266108661570" border="0" /></a><br />So beautiful. So filled with overpriced plastic severed hands.<br /><br />I obviously couldn't let this momentous occasion go by without a purchase. At first, I almost bought these:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNqfZLzIftI/AAAAAAAAABA/m0cM0oLdL-Y/s1600-h/IMG00108.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNqfZLzIftI/AAAAAAAAABA/m0cM0oLdL-Y/s320/IMG00108.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249683570666536658" border="0" /></a><br />But that was more based on their name. I mean, based solely off of their appearance, you would never guess what they were, seeing as they appear to be neither ultimate nor boobs.<br /><br />Eventually I decided on two things. One is something that I have wanted for well over a decade, ever since I first saw <span style="font-style: italic;">A Nightmare on Elm Street</span>. And the other just seemed too hilarious to not buy, and I'm sure I'll get some good use out of it in the future.<br /><br />BEHOLD!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNqhMkD4ywI/AAAAAAAAABI/jAEVJW3hbgA/s1600-h/Photo+84.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNqhMkD4ywI/AAAAAAAAABI/jAEVJW3hbgA/s400/Photo+84.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249685552864217858" border="0" /></a>Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-33877236780847028932008-09-23T17:27:00.002-06:002008-09-23T17:30:45.036-06:00Madison Hippies Accuse Me Of Being A Sex OffenderThe subject basically says it all. Two hippies just showed up at my door and asked me if I am or if I live with a sex offender who was previously listed at this address. They are prowling the streets with a list of sex offenders in the area. I don't know what they would have done if I was the guy they were looking for. Are they just trying to intimidate these guys into leaving their neighborhood? It's not like I'm going off in support of sex offenders, but come on ladies, let's tone down the crazy a little bit.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-61715490528690084262008-09-22T16:44:00.003-06:002008-09-22T17:08:30.309-06:00Mildridiots, Volume 3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31DFKKH05EL._AA280_.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31DFKKH05EL._AA280_.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Only 45 minutes into my shift, and we've already got two more Mildridiots! One was a regular that I forgot about on the first volume in this series, and the other is a brand new jackass.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">New York Bastard</span><br />I've never seen this guy before, but there was something about him that just screamed "New York City". Maybe it was his classic "NEW YORK CITY" shirt, or maybe not. But he marched up to the counter and announced, "I NEED A BLYSTONE," which is one of our more popular sandwiches. So I made that and called him up to the counter to come get it, at which point he looked at our beer selection (a rather impressive array of Wisconsin microbrews, if I may say so), and sneered, much like a cartoon villain. "Is this all the beer you have?" Obviously it is, but I just said, "Yep," and then quickly added a quiet, "Sorry," after receiving a lengthy glare from him. I'm not sure what I did that needed an apology, but the way he was looking at me made me feel like the lowest scum on Earth. "Oh, come on. I know you have a Maibock back in that fridge," he said, completely serious and more than a little pissed off. "Uh... no. I can promise you we have no hidden beers." Eventually, he settled on a Berghoff, but he was NOT HAPPY about it.<br /><br />Later, when he was on his way out the door, I cheerily shouted after him, "Thanks! Have a great night!" at which point he stopped in his tracks, turned around and STARED at me for a good minute in the doorway. Reeeeeally awkward. He makes me feel like I'm doing everything completely wrong and hopefully he goes back to NEW YORK CITY.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Potato Salad Freak</span><br />Oh, god, this woman is obnoxious. Every Monday - when our potato salad for the week is typically made - she marches in and demands to know just what temperature the potato salad is at. And every week I assure her that it's been in the fridge for at least a few hours and is therefore quite suitable to her tastes (although it just dawned on me that she may, in fact, be the Ice Queen, which is why nothing is ever cold enough for her). Today she went through the same routine, but I was able to proudly announce that it was a slow weekend, so the potato salad from last week is still left over and since it's been in the fridge for a few days, it is most definitely cold enough. "It wasn't a slow weekend. I came in," she sulked, for some reason insulted by me thinking a weekend in which she makes an appearance in my life should ever be deemed "slow".<br /><br />She also left pissed off for no good reason. And now someone else is here. Let's see if I can go three for three!Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-44308933490661366312008-09-20T16:15:00.002-06:002008-09-20T16:22:59.427-06:00HALLOWEEN MADNESS: X-Files Best Moments, Episode 2!I had some free time on my hands at work, so I was able to pump out the second episode of the X-Files, which, let's face it, wasn't nearly as exciting or scary as the first.<br /><br />This was the second grossest thing in the episode:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNV2aJZaCHI/AAAAAAAAAAo/PVrQ0lNf0kg/s1600-h/vlcsnap-4768252.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNV2aJZaCHI/AAAAAAAAAAo/PVrQ0lNf0kg/s320/vlcsnap-4768252.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248231132341340274" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And the grossest?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNV2hlvYdhI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fH_yYImzuMw/s1600-h/vlcsnap-4778985.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNV2hlvYdhI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fH_yYImzuMw/s320/vlcsnap-4778985.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248231260208789010" border="0" /></a><br />Seth Green cameo!<br /><br />Anyway, last night we made $304 at our hat party. I wore my crab hat from Japan, and it was a roaring success. Some random guy pulled me to the side and gave me a 10-minute lecture on how if I couldn't get laid wearing that hat, then none of the guys had a chance. I also heard the joke, "Do you have crabs??!!" about a thousand times. It was nice, because it reminded me why I'm so anxious to get out of college.<br /><br />Also, today I bought the <a href="http://www.snorgtees.com/ushistorycheattshirt-p-361.html">US History Major Cheater's T-Shirt</a>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.snorgtees.com/images/USHistoryCheat_Fullpic_10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.snorgtees.com/images/USHistoryCheat_Fullpic_10.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And yes, my muscles are that big.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-5182175218587870632008-09-19T10:07:00.006-06:002008-09-24T14:23:09.018-06:00HALLOWEEN MADNESS: X-Files Pilot Best Moments!As I mentioned earlier, to celebrate that most wonderful of (mostly) American holidays, Halloween, I will be watching the <span style="font-style: italic;">X-Files</span> (for the first time ever!) and posting the best moments from each episode. I plan on there being tons of fucked up shit to post about, so let's just get right into the pilot.<br /><br />To catch you up to speed, a whole bunch of kids in Oregon were dying after going into the woods, and they were all found with two small bumps on their lower backs. Obviously aliens, right? This is just a no-brainer.<br /><br />So Mulder and Scully dig up the body of one of the victims, and when the coffin is opened, what do they find?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNPO5OK2RgI/AAAAAAAAAAY/gBgRln_jgXo/s1600-h/vlcsnap-4169926.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNPO5OK2RgI/AAAAAAAAAAY/gBgRln_jgXo/s320/vlcsnap-4169926.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247765473268221442" border="0" /></a><br />MUMMY ALIEN MUTANT CHILD.<br /><br />Seriously, what the fuck is that thing? This was such a great way to start out the series, and there's no WAY the show was not going to be picked up for more episodes after something as insane as this.<br /><br />Oh, and then there was this, too:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNPPJKBRdaI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Q5jqE_wx_zs/s1600-h/vlcsnap-4587433.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SNPPJKBRdaI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Q5jqE_wx_zs/s320/vlcsnap-4587433.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247765747032225186" border="0" /></a>Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-18112466230142902852008-09-19T01:27:00.003-06:002008-09-19T01:47:11.456-06:00In Which I Do My Brotherly Duty and Help My Little Sister Through Her First Night of CollegeA Facebook message exchange between myself and my little sister, who is spending her first night in college and not having such a great time:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sara</span>: The only friend I've made so far is hideously deformed.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: How so? Genetically or just as the result of a fire? And was the fire her fault or was it someone else's? These are important questions in establishing a sense of her character.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sara</span>: cleft lip.<br />I'm a very, very horrible person.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: Oh, god. She sounds awful. How's the roommate?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sara</span>: Not here yet. She comes on Saturday. The only people I have so much as seen on my floor so far are me and Kathryn. It's this dark, scary hallway that looks like a prison and I hear the ominous jingling of keys and footsteps but I never see anyone.<br />WHERE AM I?<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: With the cleft lip girl it sounds like some sort of freak prison. Like an old man shoves you in his briefcase and inside is your dorm, where these people have been trapped for centuries.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sara</span>: you made me "l.o.l." which I can't do because I'm pretending to sleep so that my new, deformed friend doesn't come ask to play!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: "Do you want to meet my pets?" and then you go into her room and there are just hundreds of slugs.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sara</span>: oh god! I was laughing and there were footsteps outside and they slowed so I faked snored and they kept moving. AM I GOING TO HAVE TO DO THIS FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR?!?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: Why is she prowling?!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sara</span>: I don't know! She keeps walking to the bathroom, going in, running the water a little, and walking out. Maybe she doesn't have a shower caddy and so she carries in her toothbrush, wets it, goes back to her room, puts on the toothpaste, walks back, etc., etc.<br />Or maybe she smells that I'm awake.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: I got really grossed out picturing her brushing her teeth.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sara</span>: She probably has to use prongs to lift the left side.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: I'm going to barf.<br /><br />But seriously, you're probably going to hate it and feel awkward and alone for a while because that's what college does to you. It makes you feel retarded and useless. Just go with it and eventually you'll meet your future best friends. And don't forget that my phone is always with me if you want to call or text or facebook message me. But since it's like 2:30 here, I need to go to bed. Call me if cleft lip is clawing down your door.<br /><br />Good night and just make the best of it until it actually becomes fun instead of just funny.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sara</span>: Right now I definitely feel awkward and alone, mainly because I am completely and totally alone on my floor, except for a sideshow act. I have a feeling once people actually move in, it will be a lot better. Also, once I get a fridge.<br /><br />Thank you Danny. You're a much better brother than that one of Kallie's that's in a cult in Iowa.<br /><br /><br />I think I actually helped. I'm not a useless older brother after all!<br /><br />On a totally unrelated note, I'm getting very excited about Halloween. I missed out on all the main holiday season (mid-October to mid-January, obviously) last year, since Cairo is where holidays and joy go to DIE, so I'm planning on being totally over-the-top this year. As in buying and wearing a whole bunch of cheesy Christmas sweaters for the month of December.<br /><br />For Halloween, I'm mostly starting my celebrations by eating a ton of candy and watching a lot of scary shit. I've never seen an episode of the <span style="font-style: italic;">X-Files</span> before (not counting one episode back when I was a kid that freaked the SHIT out of me to the point where I've forced it entirely out of my memory), so I got the first season from Netflix. To get my blog in the holiday spirit, I think I'll be posting my favorite moments from each episode that I watch. The first episode should be up tomorrow or Saturday, hopefully (we're having a party Friday night and I have to go see <span style="font-style: italic;">My Best Friend's Girl</span> tomorrow for The Daily Cardinal - UGH - so I might be too busy to do anything until Saturday), but rest assured, my favorite moment from the episode WILL be up soon.<br /><br />I don't have enough time to do a full recap of each episode, much as I would love to, but hopefully this should satisfy you enough. If my small amount of Halloween fever isn't enough for you holiday maniacs out there, check out <a href="http://www.x-entertainment.com">X-Entertainment</a>, the best website of all time for nostalgia - especially around this glorious, three-month-long holiday season.<br /><br />I don't know exactly what else I'll be doing as all these wonderful holiday seasons combine into a crazy monster holiday hybrid of commercialism and memories, but one thing I know for sure is that I will be documenting the Jones Soda Holiday Pack - a family tradition. That should happen around Thanksgiving, though, so that's way in the future. Any suggestions for more holiday fun would be welcome.<br /><br />(I only wrote this post this late at night to try to distract my mind from scary aliens and other things that the X-Files is making me think about. But now that I ended the post with this little tidbit, they're still all I'm thinking about and all of this was worthless. I'm such a little baby. I'm going to be up for a while.)Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-81753312497793352842008-09-14T13:23:00.002-06:002008-09-14T13:23:56.179-06:00Mildridiots, Volume 2A guy just came in and tried to sell me pepper spray.<br /><br />That is all.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-86697426976144661412008-09-13T18:28:00.004-06:002008-09-13T19:06:59.989-06:00IT'S INTERVIEWIN' TIME!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blog.makezine.com/DSC03007_lrg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://blog.makezine.com/DSC03007_lrg.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Well, the interview with Billy Bob is over and it went off without a hitch. Know why? Because I didn't get to speak to him!<br /><br />That's right, Paramount fucked us over. Late last night, they contacted my editor and informed him that since our circulation size isn't large enough, we were being demoted to interviewing Michael Chiklis. Which, let's face it, is much cooler than interviewing Billy Bob. So I was pretty thrilled about speaking to him, but also a bit panicked, since I had prepared all my questions for Billy Bob, I only got notice 12 hours before the interview, and I was notified at a party while I was drunk.<br /><br />So I woke up and went into Mildred's and did a bunch of Mildred's bullshit (it was crazy busy for some reason, even though it's been pouring for the last 24 hours). At 1:35, I went out to my roommate's car in the parking lot behind Mildred's, and dialed the conference call number and entered my code. DJ Caruso, the director of <span style="font-style: italic;">Eagle Eye</span>, was doing the first round of interviews (all the community college reporters were stuck with him), but the e-mail that gave me the code for the conference call said that it was <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">MANDATORY</span> (bold, capitals, and italics theirs) to stay on the line for all three interviews, because if you leave early or enter late, you'll disrupt everyone. So I sat while they all interviewed DJ Caruso, who was whatever. Then I was cut off and had to dial back in for Chiklis. So clearly it wasn't mandatory.<br /><br />But I did it and sat through roll call (which consisted of the Paramount girl saying, "Who's here?" and then all of the rabid journalism students jumping all over each other to announce their name and school - my recording of the interview has me saying, "Dann-" every once in a while, only to be cut off by some crazy girl from Bryn Mawr), and then we waited in awkward silence for 15 minutes, because Chiklis was late. He makes his own schedule or else it's CLOBBERIN' TIME! (I couldn't resist.)<br /><br />Finally he showed up, and right as the Paramount girl announced, "Michael Chiklis is here!" some old woman knocked on the car door. Fucking great. I opened the door to see what was going on, and she said, "I'm visiting apartment 5 and I think you're in my parking spot." Just so you know, I was parked next to two totally open parking spaces. But she needed MINE.<br /><br />"Uh... I'm on a conference call right now, sorry," I tried. But she wasn't having any of my crap. "Just move your car so I can park here." What? What the hell is going on?<br /><br />Totally confused - and mortified at the thought of this conversation carrying through the phone into Chiklis's ears - I tried one more plea: "I'm on the phone with Michael Chiklis. From 'The Shield'," I whispered, covering the mouthpiece with my hand.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.toonopedia.com/uimages/toons/t/thing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.toonopedia.com/uimages/toons/t/thing.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Clearly not a fan of FX corrupt cop dramas, she just repeated, "Please move your car." At this point, I just wanted her to leave, because Chiklis was already starting to greet us, so I gave in to her demands and started the car.<br /><br />"LIVIN' ON A PRAAAAYYYEEERR!" the radio BLASTED. My roommate had apparently been rocking out on the drive to Mildred's to our local classic rock station at full volume. Chiklis <span style="font-style: italic;">definitely</span> heard that. Not only was I pumping insanely loud music to all of the journalists and people at Paramount and fucking Michael Chiklis, but I was pumping insanely loud Bon Jovi. Could this situation get any more embarrassing?<br /><br />Answer: yes. But not for me.<br /><br />The first question was from a student at Stanford ("Oh, I've got the dummy crowd, huh?" joked Chiklis), who clearly is Shia LaBeouf's NUMBER ONE FAN. His question? "What was it like working with Shia LaBeouf?" It's important to note that he pronounced "LaBeouf" as "LaBOOF".<br /><br />Chiklis rattled off some stuff about how dedicated and nice Shia is, and then the "reporter" <span style="font-style: italic;">cut him off</span> and said, "Yeah, he has some sweet roles, you have to admit."<br /><br />"...What?" said Chiklis.<br /><br />"Sweet movie roles!"<br /><br />"Sweet roles? Yeah, I guess..." answered Chiklis, clearly confused.<br /><br />"I mean, Indiana Jones?!" gushed the fanboy.<br /><br />At this point, I was trying my hardest to stifle giggles.<br /><br />After we got the future Mr. LaBOOF off the line, things went pretty smoothly. It was already established in roll call that I would get the final question, and my heart started to race as one by one the other people asked all of the hastily-prepared questions I had just written. I was left with <span style="font-style: italic;">nothing</span>.<br /><br />"And the last question is from the University of Wisconsin-Madison."<br /><br />This is all I could come up with on the fly: "Uh... Hi, Michael. You were talking earlier about how hard it is to play a character like the Secretary of Defense, who has so much pressure on his shoulders. What did you do to prepare for a role like that? How did you get into the mind of such a powerful man? Did you, like, follow Donald Rumsfeld around for a day?"<br /><br />Thankfully, Chiklis laughed. Luckily I was recording the interview, because I have absolutely no idea what his answer was. I was far too busy wiping gallons of sweat off my face. Next thing I knew, he was done talking and there was just awkward silence. "Uh... Thanks, that was great," I said, and he replied with, "Thanks!" END CONVERSATION. Seriously, just like that Paramount cut us all off. So I guess I had the last word with him? No one else even said thank you! It was really strange and I feel like I made a total fool of myself.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.adherents.com/lit/comics/image/Thing_religion.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.adherents.com/lit/comics/image/Thing_religion.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I toyed with tuning in for Billy Bob's interview, but I decided to go back into Mildred's and help out, since it was crazy busy and I was still on the clock.<br /><br />Now my dilemma is I have no idea what to write about. I don't really care about this movie, and Michael Chiklis is in about 5 minutes of it. So somehow I have to find an interesting angle for this story. I have about two weeks to do this, but Jesus Christ.<br /><br />Oh, and then I closed out the night by coming home and blowing the power for our entire first floor. We will be without electricity down here all weekend.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-90103688838078457522008-09-12T14:18:00.002-06:002008-09-12T14:22:16.269-06:00"Burn After Reading"? More Like "Laugh After Seeing"!The subject of this post was the original headline for my first article for The Daily Cardinal, one of Madison's two campus newspaper (and apparently the sixth oldest campus newspaper in the nation, which is a huge, HUGE honor). Other than changing that and adding a letter grade to the end of the article, the editors mostly kept it the same (with a few word choice changes that I wouldn't have made, but at least they kept the word "clusterfuck").<br /><br />So <a href="http://dailycardinal.com/article/20392">here</a> it is.<br /><br />Tomorrow I interview Billy Bob Thornton. I have the press release for <span style="font-style: italic;">Eagle Eye</span>, which is apparently a movie that he is in. I had no idea that anyone other than Shia is in it, based off of the previews, but now that I know Billy Bob has a role, I can almost sort of catch his lightning-fast appearance in the trailer. Out of the 55-page press release, Billy Bob garners about 1/2 a page. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to ask him.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4250532543060148185.post-6392752972726798552008-09-08T18:21:00.005-06:002008-09-08T19:20:18.180-06:00Mildridiots, Volume 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SMXGtIWP-NI/AAAAAAAAAAM/poyaIStajEk/s1600-h/IMG00097.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LV_EEo0aFH0/SMXGtIWP-NI/AAAAAAAAAAM/poyaIStajEk/s320/IMG00097.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243815819780028626" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Mildridiots </span><span>is going to be an ongoing series in which I relate stories about the lunatics that frequent the place where I work, a small sandwich shop named <a href="http://mildreds.biz">Mildred's</a>.<br /><br />First, some background: Mildred's has been around for some 40 years, and it has never changed. The menu has been the exact same (except for a brief crazy period a few months ago during which we introduced a new sandwich and then quickly removed it), and some locals have been coming here for 30-plus years.<br /><br />There are only four employees, not counting the owner, an aging, hilarious hippie by the name of Nels Nelson (seriously). All of us employees work our shifts solo (not counting lunch during weekdays, when Nels sticks around for a few hours to make the soup of the day), and since not many people come in - it's a long, long way from the campus, where Madison's pulse is - most of my shifts consist of me reading, watching movies or TV shows on my laptop, or writing this blog post right now.<br /><br />For those of you not familiar with Madison, it is for the most part populated entirely by two groups of people: college students, and aging lunatics who grew up during the Vietnam War and have totally warped their minds through the use of various recreational drugs throughout their lifetimes. And since Mildred's is so far away from campus, guess which half of Madison's population we get as customers?<br /><br />So that's Mildred's. No one fascinating has come in yet today, so I'll just recap some of my all-time favorite (or least favorite, in one particular instance) customers.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Alan From Madison<br /></span>This guy is definitely my all-time favorite. He hobbled in one day on his crutches ("My friends used to call me Hop-A-Long," he quipped) and ordered a beer. He then sat down and just started telling me all about his life, completely unprovoked. If he is to believed (and, really, there's no way any of this stuff was made up), this is his story:<br /><br />Alan From Madison (quick history of that name: he told me he's from Michigan, and then ten minutes later when I asked his name, he said, "They call me Alan From Madison." So that was confusing) has been hunting the <a href="http://www.michigan-dogman.com/">Dog Man</a> for over 100 years. Who is the Dog Man? Oh, just a werewolf-type dude that's been running around killing people for about a century or so. When I humored Alan From Madison and asked, "Wow. Where does he come from?" I got a simple one-word answer that almost made me laugh out loud: "Hell." He then clarified: "Well, that's what I think. Others think he's the spirit of a dug-up Indian burial ground." So, either way, not good news.<br /><br />Anyway, we talked for about half an hour, and eventually he left, but not before issuing me a stern warning: "He's been seen around Madison, so don't go out at night, and stay in well-lit areas. And if you see a seven-foot dog man, run." As if I'd walk <span style="font-style: italic;">towards</span> someone like that.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">La Croix Guy</span><br />Ugh. This guy is the WORST. He is the son of Sophia, an older woman who runs a breakfast-only shop right next door to us. Oh, and he's certifiably insane. He comes in every day and orders a berry La Croix, and then sits down and drinks it for at least three hours. Sometimes he keeps to himself, which wouldn't be that bad except for the fact that I just want him to leave so I can open up my laptop and resume whatever movie I was watching before he came in. Other times, he does crazy shit. Once, he requested that I turn the radio up. REALLY LOUD. I did it but then gradually turned it down a notch until it was back to a reasonable level. Another time, he told my friend he hated the color of his shirt, ran home, and came back in five minutes with a shirt to give him. His best moment, though, was when he crumpled up his can, grabbed a book from our bookshelf, and positioned them oh-so-carefully in the outstretched hands of the random mannequin we have by our ATM. He came back four hours later and retrieved the items.<br /><br />He also has two children, for some unknown reason. One is a son who looks like he's around thirteen years old, and has to have some form of ADHD or something. He's insane. He pesters me with questions about everything whenever he's here, and La Croix Guy never lets him get any soda because, "If this is what you're like without sugar, imagine what you'll be like if I give you some." Which is by far the sanest and most reasonable thing that guy has ever said. His daughter is a toddler, who likes to grab everything at her level and throw it around the store. The son actually tries to pick up after her, but La Croix Guy sternly says, "NO. Leave it." So that's respectful of him.<br /><br />He drives me crazy.<br /><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sexy Cerebral Palsy Aide</span><br />This girl comes in every Sunday with a man named Jessie who has cerebral palsy. I thought she was his sister, but I have recently learned that she just volunteers to take him out to eat every week. Which makes her even more attractive. They do this thing that I've never seen before, where she has a keyboard printed out on a piece of paper, and he points at the letters on it to spell out words and sentences to communicate with her. It's pretty amazing.<br /><br />I have sort of a crush on her, but it's kind of an awkward situation and I've never gotten up the nerve to say anything more than, "Anything else with that?" or "$5, please." I would like to use the keyboard thing as my in - say something like, "Wow, I've never seen anything like that before, that's amazing," - but every time I'm about to, I feel like I'm using Jessie or something.<br /><br />So nothing will ever happen between us, and I'll just admire her from afar.<br /><br />Oh, and Jessie has another girl who comes with him very, very rarely, and she's a super bitch. Doesn't use the keyboard or anything. Luckily, I know Jessie's order better than she does, so he's able to get what he wants instead of, "Just give him some turkey on wheat bread," like she said to me last time. Seeing her instead of Sexy Cerebral Palsy Aide is a terrible way to end the weekend.<br /><br /><br />That's all I can think of now. I suppose I should start closing down the store anyway, since no one has come in for the past two hours.<br /></span>Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489191095964369909noreply@blogger.com3