So I...

...need a week off. Sort of. Actually I'm just a little tired of writing and this week I'm working as a driver for a certain event and won't be allowed to talk about it anyway (non-disclosure). So I'm just going to leave it at that...

I may post later in the week if I have time.

Special Update about my Netflix...

Okay, so as I've talked about, I love Netflix. It's great. But one thing I find annoying is its "suggestions" based on what I've rented before. And today's suggestion ranks as particularly bad because...well...just look...
In case you can't see the text, it says, "Because you enjoyed: F**k, The King of Kong...We think you'll enjoy: Dexter: Season 1."

Just an FYI: F**k and The King of Kong are both documentaries; one about the word "fuck," and the other about one man's quest to get the high score in Donkey Kong (I wrote about it here). Neither seem to be anything like Dexter, a show from cable channel Showtime that follows the exploits of serial killer Dexter Morgan – a very moral mass murderer. How Dexter lines up with either documentaries is beyond me. Honestly, I'm confused as shit.

So anyway, I got to get to work on some other stuff, but I thought this would entertain ya. Laters.

Day 101: Thursdays are a good time to find stupid shit

My unemployment has taught me the following:

1. Beer in the shower = awesome
2. Afternoon naps are nice
3. The internet has stupid crap

The third one is especially important today because I just discovered the dumbest thing on the internet: CNN Headline T-shirts.

The above link will take you to a t-shirt for an article titled "176-lb beauty squashes stereotypes." I'm not kidding. You can buy that shirt for $15 (plus s/h). It has me asking the question, "Can CNN really suck this bad?"

Of course I've said before that CNN may rank as the lowest level of television news (remember kids, Fox doesn't count) this side of Heidi "I used to cheer for the SEAHAWKS!" Meili. But this pushes the bar so low we are now all above it.

T-shirts from headlines? Goddamnittydamn. It's insulting. Especially the one I've linked too. How about one for the article titled, "U.S." Syria reactor most likely wasn't for peaceful aims"? I would like that as a shirt. Doesn't it pop out and say something to you about the wearer? TO me it says, "I bought a t-shirt about an event that happened three weeks ago. That's how much I cared about McCain not liking the Bush administration's handling of Katrina."

Oh, and it also says, "Hi. You may remember me from an advertisement for douche."

And that, kids, represents Thursday. I haven't anything about employment so I'm just keeping my fingers crossed. Until then, at least I've got a new episode of The Office to watch. Laters.

Day 100: So, I saw Ben Folds last night

Special note: I forgot to post this last night, so yeah. Now I am.

Ben folds rocks, and so does Old Chicago. I learned both of these truths last night and now believe them to be not only self-evident, but also very undeniable. Like the fact that everyone raised in the Catholic Church has at least at one point said, "You know, this bread tastes terrible," followed by guilt at disliking the flavor of Jesus.

And now to get into this comparison between Sir Elton and Ben Folds – the piano men:

• Elton: Legendary piano guy who rocks.
• Folds: Not quite there yet, and may never be...

• Elton: Played "Tiny Dancer," which no one can deny is awesome.
• Folds: Played "The Luckiest," which is kind of Alisia and my song...

• Elton: Can't hit the high notes in his songs.
• Folds: More falsettos than an Elliott Smith CD...

• Elton: Played some really cool piano solos.
• Folds: Made those piano solos look boring. Seriously, this guy attacked the piano so hard I think it should file charges...

• Elton: Something like 4,500 people in attendance including Ass-Grabbing Dancer; Alisia and I stand next to a trash can but get a good look at the man himself from about 100 feet away.
• Folds: Only about 1,300 people attend the show and Alisia and I scam tickets in the sixth row in front of the piano...we can see every detail of how he attacks the piano and it's incredible.

So what's my verdict? You see Elton John because he's Elton John; you see Ben Folds because he's fantastic, and you like his tunes. Both are worth it.

What about Old Chicago? Well if you clicked the link (or maybe have been to one) you know it's a restaurant with 110 beers. It rules. Lots of beer. So which one did I dive into? Which frosty mug of awesome did I try? None. It was late and Alisia was the one doing all the driving (as covered in my post about Phoenix – I think – I can't drive stick). I didn't think drinking a few beers and passing out would be nice, so I didn't. And it hurt a bit...

But anyway, it was a good night and I enjoyed it very much.

As for today? Well, Alisia and I took the evening for ourselves to, um...so moving on. I didn't accomplish a whole lot – which is becoming as much a catchphrase of mine as holla. Wait, I should add that I had to take my lip ring out today...I miss it a lot.

I'll see you kids tomorrow.

Day 99: Two job interviews today...

This morning my Kayne West Alarm Clock (Read: The song "Good Morning" plays) sounded off at 5:40 a.m., otherwise known as, "Before any of you bastards woke up." That meant I was up way too damn early. But whatever. Sometimes that happens.

What was my reason? I had an interview with the United Parcel Service this morning (WTF is it with me and shipping jobs? I was meant to live on a dock). How did it go? Well about three minutes into the 15 minute interview the guy told me, "We don't allow dangling jewelry near the shipping lines." At first I thought, "That makes sense. Luckily I took out of lip ring." WRONG! There it was clanking merely against my teeth. Total self-inflicted pwnage.

I'm not expecting a call back on that one, but oh well. I'm not too depressed about it since I spied this video over at the Onion:

Study: Nearly 80 Percent Of Roommates Got So Drunk Last Night

Maybe that's not your type of yuck inducer, but it made me smile just in time for my second interview of the day: Not a job I'll talk about right now. Like I said yesterday – and oddly enough during the interview – it is a job that has some vague relation to my degree, which is a plus.

I'm hoping at least one of the gigs works out because this whole "unemployment" thing is getting me down. The other day Alisia actually described me as "in a transition period." It makes me feel impotent. ("Pat? Oh, his penis is in a transitional period.") I understand that wasn't her intention, but not having a job is kind of emasculating. It makes me a tidbit queasy and sad.

The upside is that tonight we're traveling to see Ben Folds live, making him the latest person to move off of the "Bands Duganz Needs to See Before He Dies List." Stupid Johnny Cash and Elliott Smith used to be on that list but they went and died. Bastards.

Hopefully Mr. Folds breaks out this track tonight:



That'd make me happy.

Anyway kids, I'm out for the day. Hope you're all doing well.

Day 96, 97, and 98 (cause Mondays are never very interesting...at all)

Saturday:
I woke up Saturday morning with a big problem: no voice. None. Nada. First I thought it was due to the Trampled by Turtles show the night before, but after swallowing some water and nearly having tears explode from my eyes I decided I was actually sick. Lame. So I spent the whole day finishing off watching Season 3 (and part of Season 4) of Lost to ensure that I'm caught up come Thursday when the post-writer's strike episodes premiere. In other words: not a bad day at all.

Sunday:
Spent most of the morning laying in bed with Alisia since I felt better. The afternoon brought some enjoyment when I just watched YouTube videos of random bands and video games. Then later in the night I met up with Alisia and John to go see Amit Peled play the cello with the Symphony of the Rockies. Holy balls what a kick ass musician. Peled makes the cello sound like an entire orchestra, plus he's a really nice guy. I met him after the concert and he was very soft spoken and humbled by how much his music moved everyone. If he ends up back in Missoula I suggest checking him out.

Monday:
Well, I'm putting in some applications around town. I got interviews tomorrow for a labor job and a job more geared toward my degree...so I'll check back tomorrow. Maybe. I also have tickets to see Mr. Ben Folds in Bozeman, which I think might be cooler than blogging. Sorry.

Day 94 and 95: I got lazy and stupid

Totally failed to post yesterday out of shear laziness. Okay, but I've got an excuse. First I spent my morning over at the Indy office figuring out some work I'll be doing for the arts pages in the coming weeks. Then I spent my afternoon dinking around. But, I also had family home evening with Tom of Tomfite.com and his brother Karf. And, wowzers, did we find us a way to make the good times roll.

Many people are unaware that I'm a big fan of mistranslations. A really big fan. I frequently check sites like Engrish.com not out of racist intent, but because I get a chuckle every time. I also, for unknown reasons, always read conservative blogs and columnists who I disagree with – it's the masochist in me. Usually I pick up something like Ann Coulter's newest catastrophuck and read stuff like this:

We don't know much about Obama's audience, other than that four fundraisers were held on April 6 at the homes of San Francisco's rich and mighty, such as Alex Mehran, an Iranian who went into daddy's business and married an IBM heiress, and Gordon Getty, heir to the Getty Oil fortune.

It is not known whether any of Getty's three illegitimate children attended the Obama fundraiser -- which turned out to be more of a McCain fundraiser -- but photos from the event indicate that there were a fair number of armed (and presumably bitter) policemen providing security for the billionaire's soiree.

See, I don't get why she's talking about illegitimate kids, or really anything about people other than Obama. My only guess is she's an idiot, or, possibly, we speak a different language.

That gave Tom, Karf and I an idea on Thursday night: Translate everything one of this pundits says from English to French ("Surrender Monkey") using Babelfish, and then change it back. I tell ya, we're geniuses.

Now see what Ann really meant:

We do not know much about the assistances of Obama, other that that which four fund raisers were held April 6 at the rich and powerful houses of San Francisco, like Alex Mehran, an Iranian who entered the businesses of the dad and married a heiress of IBM, and Gordon Getty, heir with oil fortune to Getty.

It is not known if unspecified of three illegitimate children of Getty were occupied of the fund raiser of Obama -- which proved to be more than one raiser funds of McCain -- but the photographs of the event indicate that there were a number right of police officers armed (and probably land-marks) providing safety for the evening with the billionaire.

Exactly. Now I'm starting to catch on. But, really, the question is what if we changed it from English, to French, to Dutch, and then back to English...

We do not know much concerning the assistance of Obama, other one then which that four collectors of funds has come April 6 by the rich and powerful houses of SanFrancisco, as Alex Mehran, an Iranian who the matter of papa has entered and a heiress of IBM, and Gordon Getty, heir to the capacity of oil of Getty has married.

One does not know it as randomly of three illegitimate children of Getty with the collector of fund of Obama have occupied themselves that has appeared more than one collector of funds of McCain amount to but the photograph of the event to notify that exactly a number of police constables had been armed (and probably bitter) the that security for soiree of the multi-millionaire provides.

Oh..."the matter of papa"...I get it now. But why the switch from "billionaire" to "millionaire"? Ann, you so crazy...

I'd like to say we did this type of crap for 10 minutes or so, but it was over an hour translating crap written by TV "personality" Pat Sajak – who I just learned is an especially conservative Republican. I was shocked. Bruce Willis I understand, Republicans like to blow things up, but Pat Sajak? He's just some lame game show host...oh well. I guess the GOP tent fits a bunch of different people.

All I got going on tonight is the Trampled by Turtles show over at the Otherside. The band kicks ass if anyone else is bored and willing to pay the $12 cover ($10 if you get a ticket at Rudy's today). Oh, and my folks are in town to have dinner and shop at Home Depot

Day 93: Okay, maybe I'm elitist

Since I woke up this morning the only thought running through my head has been about all of the Hillary supporters in Butte, Montana – possibly America's strongest union town. All seriousness, Butte used to have a union for bartenders, and if that isn't dedication to trade unionism I don't know what is.

This thinking may com from this AP article saying that Hillary picked up the endorsement of the The 45,000-member Operative Plasterers' and Cement Masons' International Association. Meanwhile Barack grabbed on to my personal favorite endorsement: Bruce Springsteen. I think the two are a fairly decent juxtaposition of similar values.

For years I've heard how the rock classic "Born in the USA," is less a patriotic ode, but an indictment of Reagan – and it is, just listen to those words. The OPCMIA loves unions, as does Springsteen (I'm basing this on his hatred of Reagan, which I assume means a love of unionism), so both candidates grabbed union love today. But, and this is just one thing, Barack got ONE dude; Hillary got the backing of 45,000 guys and gals.

The OCPMIA's endorsement, if you didn't take time to read the article, comes before the AFL-CIO's meeting to grant a full endorsement so Barack may still get a huge union boost. Meanwhile Sprinsteen's endorsement comes before he releases any new material, which means his next album may be shitty. I don't see a connection, but the whole thing brings me back to my initial anecdote about Butte: Unionists like Hillary.

After finally admitting to this I started to think about the differences and divides amongst democrats these days.

The Obamarama actually provides a perfect look at the divides. Take Missoula for instance, Obama came in as a god to the crowd – believe me, I was one of the converted glad to stand at the altar. But in Butte the majority of signs amongst the crowd held a large "Hillary" logo on them. So, let's make a list of the differences between Butte and Missoula:

• Butte has...: Huge pit of toxic water.
• Missoula has...: A river that once died, but is now in pretty good shape.

• Butte has...: A college for, mostly, engineering degrees.
• Missoula has...: The largest liberal arts school in the state.

• Butte has...: A mall that's always losing businesses.
• Missoula has...: A mall that has this new greek place I just noticed last week. Weird.

• Butte has...: Green water if you live "downtown."
• Missoula has...: Some of the best water in the nation.

• Butte has...: I don't know...like 20,000 people?
• Missoula has...: About 12,000 students...and then 60,000 people on top of that.

• Butte has...: Small town, blue-collar working class guys with bad backs and a knack for saying things like, "tap'er light."
• Missoula has...: Progressive Happy Hour... and more.

And then it hit me – the reason I like Obama comes down to what kind of progressive guy I am. At least somewhat. You see, I'm indoctrinated to the Missoula way of life, and I no longer have that blue-collar cred of Anaconda, Montana to back someone like Hillary with so many of my unionist brethren. I feel like I do – I support unions, buy union when possible (UPS rocks my world) – but really, I'm part of what Fox News and O'Reilly call "the liberal elite," their euphemism for anyone who graduated college (or is at the very least one of those damn liberal bloggers!) and enjoys plays.

While reflecting on this sad realization I had a separate epiphany: That last thought, and entire line of reason, is pure bullshit brought on by the recent Obama controversy and the way the story's been covered. I fell victim to punditry and propaganda.

I'm sure you've already heard how Barack told a blogger that people in small towns cling to religion and guns as if those are the only real issues, and that these people are bitter. When I heard this I didn't flinch or look away like some people, I instead completely agreed with him. I'm from a small town, and, believe me, people there love their guns and God, and many are convinced that someone like Obama (or, yes, Hillary) will take them away from them. Sometimes the people are bitter, and yes, (sometimes) they are very dumb.

But what Obama said isn't some inflammatory statement, it's the same kind of stuff he's said his entire campaign. It's something brutally honest. It's about issues America doesn't want to face, in this case, bitterness and stupidity. I am, for lack of a better example, reminded of Jimmy Carter's "Malaise Speech" wherein he said:

...[W]e must face the truth, and then we can change our course. We simply must have faith in each other, faith in our ability to govern ourselves, and faith in the future of this Nation.

And something that profound – the mere mentioning of facing hard truths about America – put Reagan in the White House. Why? Because America hates truths. When we hear them we shutter; when we know them, we forget them; when someone asks if we believe, we shrug.

It's not that small town people, or the blue-collar worker, are necessarily dumb, it's that they're in a rut. A damn dirty rut. They live in towns like Butte and Anaconda that have been raped by corporate America and thrown to the ground so goddamn hard its a wonder how either still stands up enough to be seen on a map. And so they cling to the rut; they embrace the rut. They barely make it, but they make it. Is it guns? God? Stubbornness that makes the Democratic Party's donkey-logo all too perfect? All of the above.

So why the party split between Hillary and Obama? I don't really know. Will Hillary stand up for trade unionists in a way that' would make Frank Little smile? If she keeps her campaign promises then yes, but I doubt her, and these doubts come from her husband's policy – that little treat for the American laborer called "NAFTA." I try to treat her individually away from Bill's missteps, but this one just sticks out too much.

As for Obama, I'm sure if The Boss says he'll do right, he will. Okay, that's a joke, but what I'm saying is that Obama will stand up for unions all the same.

The only candidate I can assure you will not stand for unions is Sen. John McCain. Talk all you want about his moderateness, but do not be fooled. McCain hates the idea of unions. He is elected from Arizona – a prominent "right to work" state. (For those of you who don't know what that means, essentially it just gives businesses the power to squash any attempts at unionization by its workforce. It's also, ironically for the big AZ, a way for businesses to hire illegal immigrants since no outside entity – like a union – can look at the employee roles.)

Regardless of why this split exists in the Democratic Party today, the real outcome will be seen in November when people go to the polls. I hope that on that day people put aside their degrees and tools, and just realize that no matter which side of the party you sit on, no one wants to see this country handed over to McCain.

And, hopefully, regardless of who wins, we can finally do as Carter asked us and face our problems, and the truth. It hurts sometimes, but it's all we really got.

If that's elitist...well...fine by me.

Day 92: So, you like harassment huh?

At 1 a.m. this morning Alisia got a text saying something like, "Baby, I'm still hard just thinking about what you did in my dream last night. Obviously that's weird, so she texted that person that s/he had the wrong number. But then, well, the next message had her name in it, which is kind of freaky. So I got to spend the next half hour repeating the following: "Nothing's going to happen while I'm here. Don't worry about it."

Because, let's be honest, getting a text message like that is kind of freaky. And, again all honesty here, I'm a badass (The internet even says so). So yeah I did the whole "I'm a guy who protects lady (grunt)," but it was asked of me.

I will add that all this entailed was me falling asleep what was described as "five seconds before me." Not much of anything really.

Today I did some laundry and got calls for job interviews, which I'll update about later because I'd rather not jinx anything. But what's really important is getting back to this whole call drama...

So I did some investigating this morning and found that the number was from Portland, Maine, from which neither Alisia or I know anyone. Then we got thinking about conspiracy theories ranging from all sorts of craziness, until Alisia called the number from a landline and got the phones voice message, which included the name "Vanessa." Well, a bunch of us have spent the day trying to figure out who this girl is. Finally my friend Joh got a break in the case when he texted the same creepiness to "Vanessa," and she told us that she got "so drunk last night" and "forgot her phone at the bar," and blamed the harassment on the fact that "drunk people say things."

We informed her that a complaint is going to be filed. Holla.

The point is that phone harassment – particularly of a sexual nature – isn't funny at all. We still are not sure who sent the messages, or how this "Vanessa" girl got Alisia's number, but we are sure the shit's going to stop soon.

Anyway...

I gave 30 days notice on my lease today and made the discovery that ending a renter agreement is kind of like a break-up: it's awkward and everything is just bad. Especially when I told him that his other tenant deals drugs. My landlord seemed to really enjoy the story of the tweaker kicking in my door. Hopefully Drug Dealer Neighbor and I both exit at the same time.

And, if anyone cares, I'm moving across the yard into my friend John's condo, which, as I explained way back, is where I lived this summer. Again, holla.

I'll check it with you kids later.

***

Quickie update:

I just read this article about how China thinks CNN is being unfair in its coverage of everyone's favorite communist regime. I found this graph to be most interesting:

It was the latest flare-up after Beijing accused Western media of bias in its reporting following violent protests in the Tibetan capital last month. Atlanta-based CNN has been singled out by some Chinese who say overseas news outlets are smearing Beijing.

Why not Fox News? ... ... ... Oh, wait, Rupert owns satellite stations in China. I wonder if that's why Fox is avoiding "biased" reporting about China? Hmm...

Day 91: Mini Update for laughs

So, kids, I was checking out the Onion today when I spied this little joke, "Gypsy Curse Lifted from Montana." It made me chuckle just because it has someone impersonating Gov. Schweitzer.

Day 88, 89, and 90: Elton and the kids

Friday: Bored. Boring. And nothing much else. That was the beginning of my day. Around 1 p.m. John and I joined Bill, Sean, and Sean's Father and Step-Mom at Sean Kelly's for lunch. That was a little entertaining.

Friday night was also the University of Montana School of Journalism's fabled Dean Stone Dinner. But, even though I love my alma mater, I didn't go because my lady friend snagged tickets to Elton John's $75,000 Return Show. Even though I like plenty of the Rocket Man's tracks ("I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues" rocks), I wouldn't have gone had Alisia not offered to take me. Looking back, however, it rocked. I was really excited once the show started and he hit the opening chords of "Tiny Dancer" (Come on kids; admit that that scene in "Almost Famous" is one of the coolest of all time).

I particularly enjoyed him singing "Daniel," which always reminds me of one time I took my brother to the bus station and it played on the radio. It's pretty damn sad, but standing around hearing it live made me happy actually...except for one thing: Crappy Dancer.

After the show Alisia asked me not to really focus on him and talk about how cool the lights were, or my joke about how the guitarist changed guitars on every song ("No! The other Gibson!"). She thought Crappy Dancer should be left out for the most part – maybe she was feeling conceited and wanted me to say she looked really pretty at the show. But I hated Crappy Dancer, he was an old man with a bad mustache who kept dancing too close to us and grabbing his own ass...It sucked. I hated him. I hope he gets a hemorrhoid.

We met up with everyone at the Union after the show and I spoke with the Montana Kaimin's Mike Gerrity. If you haven't read the kids work, well, he's genius. Seriously. He's bound for a brilliant career kicking ass and taking names in print. On Friday though he had only one highlight: He asked me, "Hey, how the hell'd you snag a girl like Alisia?" I told him simply: I made her laugh. And his response was, "Well, if you fuck up I'm totally going for that." Guess that's a compliment...

We walked home after some late night breakfast. Trivia: The Union's "Emotional Fulfillment" shot is the bomb. You need to try it.

Saturday: Wow, to hell with Saturday. We grabbed brunch with some peeps and then dedicated most of the day to watching Scrubs on DVD. Alisia's new to the show, but I think she likes it...wait...[I ask her]...[She nods]...Okay, confirmed, Alisia likes Scrubs based on Dr. Cox, the character played by John C. McGinley – Capt. Badass.

We also went to the MT Freestyle Jam, but we didn't really feel the scene and left before the Reverend Slanky set ended, which was how we knew we didn't dig the night that much. We had some ice cream and checked out.

Sunday: SHOE SHOPPING! Last night I learned that my shoes had died without me noticing, which meant a lot of pain for my feet. I bought a pair of New Balance that featured the numbers "406." Holla. Wait...not enough joy...Double Holla!

So we didn't do much and we can all move on kids. Later.

Day 87: I hate the media

Allow me to clarify my title. See, I've been following the story of eight Florida teens who, for reasons not exactly logical or clear, beat the crap out of a fellow teenager. (If you haven't I suggest Googling "8 Florida teens." Outside of pornography, you get the news. So, that's good.) The only reason these kid got any attention for their crimes is mass media focusing on stories for pure sensationalism. It bothers me. Especially because

...Well, it turns out that the state great state of Florida now wants to try these teens – age 14-18 – as adults. I'll admit, from the description of the video (YouTube's removed it for "violations") these teens are brutal idiots. It's true. But they're teens. Teens are stupid; believe me, I was one for several years. Teens make absolutely no sense whatsoever. They cry, they get mad, they say the phrase "Oh, my, god" as if it meant something more, like, "I am surprised." And apparently teens will kick your ass for talking smack about them on this thing called the Internet.

But come on. They're kids. Kids. Saying that these kids deserve to never be free again is just insanity, and it depresses me.

I'm talking about all of these things, of course, because I have nothing else to discuss. I could talk about dinner, and Kettlehouse, but I do that all the time. I guess that's all for the night. Remember, the lesson is that you shouldn't throw kids in jail forever. They're stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Kids suck.

Day 86: I'm too excited about returning sitcoms

There ar few things as pleasurable in this world as watching The Office. Allow me to explain: I usually hate sitcoms outside of a few exceptions like The Office, Scrubs, and, I'm ashamed to admit it, Friends. I can explain the two former with ease, but the latter even makes me wince.

I got watching Friends one night with my parents out of shared boredom. They hate shit like that too. But for some reason stars aligned above us – and there was an eclipse and probably some other random crap – and we watched. And then we watched more. And then, later, we even met on who was the father of Rachel's baby (Season 9). I then got even more into the show during a summer home while I worked at the state mental hospital. My friend owned the nine seasons that were available on DVD at the time, and I watched each one...sometimes five episodes a night. I justify this behavior as such: days spent working around people calling themselves "god," watching some seriously messed up events that still kind of leave me freaked out, and getting punched on a semi-regular basis left me needing something so sugary it hurt. Friends fit that bill and left me able to cope with the daily grind of psychopaths.

Scrubs is something I really liked when it first started airing, but then I started college and didn't watch TV that much – yes even in the dorms. So I lost touch with it for a couple of years. Then I started working at the Indy, and I again didn't have TV, but I had stress...and Scrubs is relatively affordable on DVD. Thus I got back into the show and have watched all six seasons available on DVD. Now I only need to get into watching Season 7, which returns before The Office, but I'm too behind to justify watching it just yet... If anyone knows a place I can stream the episodes from I'd really appreciate it.

With The Office it comes really from a mutual appreciation of the show I share with friends, mostly my boys Tom and Karf (Yes, Tom Fite of Tomfite.com. He's also got some stellar Obama shots from Saturday's awesomeness I suggest checking out. Anything else he writes about – like coding – will probably just confuse you as much as it does me).

Tom and I made a habit of watching the show last year (Season 3) until my job at the Kaimin ruined Thursday nights – I had to design the pages for the Arts section, as well as edit the stories...and that meant no Rainn Wilson for me. But then Season 4 premiered and I was free and clear on my Thursday nights courtesy of the Indy printing on that day. Holla. And just when things were feeling good, the writers went on strike and ruined my Thursdays again. I'm totally okay with the strike, I just, ya know, missed my show.

But now it's back. I can again watch new episodes of The Office. It makes me happy. (I'll bring the Rice Krispy Treats™ guys!)

Speaking of TV, I spotted this news today. It seems The Simpsons are being pulled from Venezuelan TV so that episodes of Baywatch can be shown. Why? Because The Simpsons ran in the morning when children were watching and the government felt it was a bad influence on children. So, yeah, silicon breasts and rampant objectification of women, OKAY!, but an animated family's actions are bad...yup... Hugo Chávez made us all laugh when he spoke at the United Nations way back last year, but this is ridiculous. Seriously. I am very annoyed with Hugo right now.

Later kids.

Day 85: I get writer's block

So unlike previous days where I looked deep into the white nothingness of a Word doc. and created something, today I just stared...and stared...and then I watched Lost for a little bit. After that I repeated the staring. I also finished off my beard today, which means that for the first time since October I lack chin hair. It's a weird feeling – and the second time I've gone through this experience of beard loss...

Randomness:

• I couple of days ago my friend Danny posted on his blog The Yogurt Chronicles that he planned a blog war with me. But he hasn't yet since I rule. Note to Danny: Don't mess with me Davis. I beat you at the Kaimin and I'll beat you in the blogosphere as well. Holla.

• In my post the other day about Obama in Butte I left out that Obama said about fly-fishing: "It's ten and two right?" I didn't mention it because it seemed innocuous, but it turns out that Zed over at Dispatches from the Borderland actually explained this to Sen. Obama while the man stopped in at the iconic M&M Bar. Way to go man... that's a nice claim to fame.

• Speaking of my past post, Jhwygirl linked to it over at 4&20 and also further smacked around the "Line Cop" from that post, saying that I shouldn't be messed with at 7:30 a.m. My take? Damn straight. I'm not a morning person. If only Drug Dealer neighbor would wake me that early...

...Now exiting randomness:

Since my day didn't do much I think it's best to use this time to take the advice of my friend John and amend an earlier post in which I said,

When [Alisia and I] started off toward home though, something happened. Alisia dropped a bomb on me asking about my past – particularly about my relationships that…well, weren’t exactly completely fair. By that I mean I dated a passive-aggressive manipulator. Thrice actually. The normal guy thing is to say, “Yeah, she was a bitch,” which I know is pretty un-PC, and also sort of a mischaracterization. It wasn’t about “bitchiness,” but about the fact that when I dated these girls I sort of disliked myself... I told [Alisia], “Okay, I was in some abusive relationships.”

After reading that he told me I should point out that my hands aren't exactly clean in these matters, and he dropped a certain name I won't publish...Instead I'll call the girl Matilda. I sort of, well, used her. This was one of the problems I started with when I began the blog, namely, that Matilda would come over if I text messaged her and asked her to. And, well, if you come over in the middle of the night sometimes...well, draw your own conclusions.

Anyway, John siad that ot be true to the point of the blog I should at least be honest with my own piggishness if I'm going to smear past relationships. So there you have it. I'm a pig sometimes and a total asshole as well. While I think some of my relationships have been unbalanced, and bad, I'm a guilty person as well.

Maybe the only conclusion that can be drawn is that people are bastards. All of us. At least sometimes.

Day 84: Updates that aren't real

Hitting up a show tonight at the Badlander after a long day of slaving for the sake of blogging and fiction. So, in other words, a rather boring day. But I thought I'd throw these videos up on here so you guys can relive the Obama shows this weekend:

Engen talks Obama:



Obama talks Missoula and goes to the M&M in Butte and talks:



Obama talks in Butte (more):


I wish he'd stuck around...I'd have taken him to Kettlehouse.

Day 82 and 83: My Political Hangover

For some reason a bunch of us went out Friday night to the Union even though we needed to get up at dawn to catch the Barack Obama show at the Adams Center. Bad choice, but then again, we had a pretty good time out anyway.

When Alisia and I were on the road home from Phoenix a week ago I downloaded Kayne West's song "Good Morning" because I thought it'd be a nice way to wake up – and it usually is save for when Mr. West wakes me at 5 as he did on Obama Day. But regardless of our lack of sleep, Alisia and I woke up and headed off to the event, first meeting Sean, Tonya, Bill and John at Finnegan's for bad coffee and greasy food. It sort of worked out nicely...

Around 7 a.m. we arrived at the line, the end of which was near 6th and Gerald. Here we met "Line Cop" – a man who felt he owned the line and would run it his way. You see, as is often the case, people we knew got there early and we joined them at that point instead of the very back. Capt. Line Cop got pissy, "Is this it cause we keep getting pushed back here...okay?" That condescending "Okay" should have tipped me off that he wasn't joking, but I assumed he was. Wrong. Later when a reporter who works with Sean at the Kaimin showed up to ask some advice, Line Cop got on my ass about it. "Hey, this guy needs to move to the back, okay? He shouldn't be up here."

It was 7:30 a.m. and I was tired as all hell, so instead of responding I just mumbled, "huh?" And then Tonya explained to Line Cop that this guy was leaving. Had I not been half asleep I think I would have reminded the guy about how we all had these things called "tickets" and having a "ticket" would get him "inside" the "event" so he should fuck "himself."

Once we got inside we met the security forces, which sucked. The guy who patted me down felt my asthma inhaler, made me take it out and explain it, and then said, "So you have asthma?" I wanted to say, "No, I carry it around in case someone else does." But that'd been as useful as yelling, "I have a bomb!"

And once inside the Adams Center...we waited...and waited...and [yawn!] waited. At least I got to see this laugh worthy commemorative:

This was just oddly hilarious, particularly when the screen below this
prominently displayed a misspelling of his name.

Those two hours took forever. But then, at 10:14 a.m. the man arrived:

Obama, oh you came and delivered a sermon and inspired a crowd. Obama...

The place went nuts, seriously nuts. For just a moment it seemed like the man wouldn't get to speak because no one would stop clapping. But as much as his words meant something to me, and his candor drew me in and made me even more hopeful than ever that he would be our next president, the most stirring image for me was an old woman across the gymnasium from me.

Normally I don't stare at people, but in this case I did. She was an old woman with one of those white old-lady-afros that scream to be dyed blue, and she was clapping enthusiastically at each thing Obama said. Then the crowd stood to cheer during the peak of one of Obama's promises, I believe to bring the troops home. The old woman obviously had arthritis and she fought to stand up only barely making it to her feet before everyone else sat. But she did not. She clapped solo, quietly, as part of her own standing-O for Obama. Having watched the scene I suddenly was hit with a wave of emotion and appreciation for Sen. Obama – there are few things many people can willfully believe in these days it seems, and I don't think age makes cynicism easier. But there in the Adams Center, with Obama extolling his message of hope, an old woman dismissed her arthritic pain to cheer for him. She believed. I honestly hope that when I'm in my 60s or 70s someone can still make me believe that much.

I'll also say that Obama dropped a damn funny joke after saying his campaign still running strong felt like a miracle: "I mean, I'm a black man with a funny name and big ears." A laugh riot. He also said he wanted to go fly-fishing, a joke he repeated later that night...

The Missoula event ended around 11 a.m., leaving me with 2 hours before I needed to meet Rebecca and Jhwygirl from 4&20 to travel over toward Butte America for the Mansfield-Metcalf Dinner, or as I call it: Barrack 2: This time it's in Butte.

This was Barrack in Butte from my vantage point:

Yeah, I was far away, but his speech was just as moving as in Missoula.

I sat with some family, my undecided parents and my pro-Hillary Aunt and Uncle. But I think Obama won, if not everyone's vote, at least their heart. He just made everyone happy, particularly, again, with his humor by joking that he wanted a Tester haircut, or at least a Tester-tie (Couldn't do either); and to go fishing with Gov. Brian Schweitzer. It was pretty damn good humor even if it was repeated.

A sidenote: later in the night people would tell me that Barack seemed like a preacher giving a sermon. I concur. I've watched people at those megachurches speaking in tongues and acting crazy and always sot of felt like those people needed medication, but with the charisma Barack through out, and the way I felt watching and listening...well, I now get why Joel Olsteen sells books.

After Barack I tried eating my "dinner" provided by the Dems. In a word: Shitska. It was a turkey sandwich that sort of made me sick, but at least it came with a tasty cookie and some Doritos. (Lame!)

Between Obama and Hillary we got Sen. Tester, Gov. Schweitzer, and Sen. Baucus. Let me just say that Baucus is a boring man, but I agree with Mr. Wulfgar! that people didn't to be so disrespectful of him. Yes, Baucus doesn't always bring the gold in speeches, but remember Burns? Yeah, I'm okay with Max when compared to that nutbar. We also heard from South Dakota's Rep. Stephanie Herseth Sandlin, a very articulate woman who I had to pity given that she was the lead speaker before the big O and H signed on for the dinner. They sort of outshined her, which sucks for her, but oh well.

Another note: I thought it was very nice that Gov. Brian talked about Tester's election, and not so much his own upcoming raise. It was a nice departure from the rest of the evening's "vote for me" speeches.

Hillary's arrival didn't garner the same applause as Obama despite her seeming to have more sign-holders placed around Butte's Civic Center. I've been tougher on Clinton this race because of her, um, "mistake" five years ago by following President Bush to war, but she did a good job Saturday night despite obviously having a cold.

I thought Hillary did good, but someone needed to give her some TheraFlu,
and a couple of cough drops. The girl was sick.

I particularly appreciated her saying that China needs to quit poisoning us all the time...seems like a good policy choice. But when she started talking about how we need out of Iraq I just wanted to scream, "You apologize right now senator!" It came off as half-assed pandering instead of real regret. But then again, I'm just slightly bitter. I was graduating high school when she decided my generation could die in Baghdad...

After the speech I walked out with my family, exchanged some hugs and well-wishes, and then headed off to meet up with Rebecca and Jhwygirl again. En route I ran into a kid I went to High school with named Robbie. He was a Freshman when I graduated, but his uncanny resemblance to me in personality and looks got him dubbed, "Mini-Pat," so I took a shine to him. He's apparently still copying me since I noticed his shirt had a big "Obama voter" logo. Made me damn proud.

After meeting up with the kids we went off to an after party in Uptown Butte where I snagged this picture:

Myself and Sen. Jon "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" Tester.

Yeah I know it's lame to by a fan-boy at a politico event, but it's Jon-fucking-Tester. (I know I normally don't drop the f-bomb on the blog, but Tester deserves that as a middle name since Obama already snagged "Awesome.") The best part about this picture is that right before it was snapped Tester put his arm around me, smiled, and then took a second to say, "Hey, that's a nice coat." Complimenting a Carhartt = Real Montana. As much as I've mocked the fact that Tester looks like the singer Meatloaf, looking at the two of us...I think he and I share an unfortunate resemblance...but that's okay by me.

Early Sunday John tried to wake me up to go see Hillary at the hanger, but I ignored his call and slept in until noon. I'd seen her once already, and seeing as I support Obama, why bother? But I hear it was an okay time so that's good.

All I did Sunday was hang with Alisia and catch the new Jack Black flick Be Kind Rewind. Even though it was kind of nonsensical in some parts, and barely held a story together, I liked it enough to recommend a matinée visit.

Okay, it's 2 p.m. Monday and I need to quit blogging. Sorry I didn't get this up yesterday...I was just kind of tired. I'll stop by later for a quickie post.

Day 81: Um, nothing much...just pictures!

So instead of blogging about life today I'm just uploading some of the Phoenix pictures. Holla. See you kids at Obamarama!

See! Donkeys in the middle of Phoenix...and some people get mad at chickens?

Ethan just freakin' out over some game he and I play with a toy car.

So, the kid like climbs everything, but since he's only 22 months old he needs a protector: Uncle Pat.

Myself, my brother Bob, Missy, and a very moody Ethan on the morning Alisia and I head out. He seemed sadder over Alisia leaving him...I think he had a crush.
Duganz men think alike.

I seem larger than life in this photo, so it makes the cut.

Since I jumped into the cold ass pool like an oaf my brother tried to do it in style. Dick.

Look at that face and tell me he's not adorable. That way I'll know about your lack of a soul.

Hope you like the pictures since Alisia spent several days going through them and making them look nice. See ya on Sunday kids...

Day 80: South Park, Samwell, and a flashback

About a year ago my friend Ian Graham found a video on Youtube:



At the time I was working as a columnist and Arts Editor for the Montana Kaimin, which meant long hours and pretty much always being at the office, which in turn meant all of my friends belonged to the somewhat elitist group referred to as "Kaiminites." That video, Samwell's "What what in the butt," made nearly everyone in the office either laugh, or shiver with revulsion. Guess which group I belonged to? Exactly.

So last night while I was doing some writing I got a text message from my friend Danny, "Are you watching South Park?" I don't have cable so that was a resounding no, and Danny said, "You need to." Taking his advice I checked the episode out today at allabout-sp.net, and I was surprised to see the show's most endearing character, the terribly abused Butters Stauch, remake the above video.

Pure classic. I've wanted someone to redo that video for so long...and now someone has.

Anyway, not much to report today. I did a lot of writing and rewriting, and I'm proud to announce that my neighbor lives on without a beating – a true testament to my patience with idiots. So, that's about it kids. Talk tomorrow...and, like I said, hope we all run into each other Saturday. Holla.

Day 79: I debate beating my neighbor unconscious; update: Obama in the Zoo

New addition:

O-to-the-bama in Missoula! Moments before Ms. Moy posted this to the web I got the e-mail from the campaign and had my ticket RSVPed...because seeing Obama once on Saturday just isn't enough for me apparently. Hope to see lots of you there...

***

One of my favorite stories from working at the Indy came by way of Ward 6 candidate Lewie Schneller. Remember him? He ran against councilman Ed Childers by breaking election rules and spreading half-truths he got from unnamed Republicans on Council and in the community. Anyway, Lewie came to meet with myself and our publisher, Matt, so he and I could ask him questions leading up to our endorsement package. You may remember that we endorsed Childers on that one for many reasons, but there was an incident behind closed doors that makes me laugh: At one point Lewie looked at me and said something like, "You wouldn't want to live in one of these alley houses just tagged on and stuck on the back end of a lot. They're terrible and ugly and no one wants them. I mean, where do you live?"

I couldn't help myself. "Well, Lewie, I live in an infill alley duplex in Ward 6 because I can afford the rent." The look on his face was nearly as funny as when I asked a certain individual about her part in a failed performing arts center in the Poconos.

The reason I'm thinking of this today is I kind of now agree with Lewie, but not because he's right. I just want to destroy my duplex...with my neighbor still inside. I'm imagining a huge gas explosion...

To explain why I hate my neighbor, who I usually call Drug Dealer: he sells drugs to super sketchy people. Now, as someone who's spent many a night blissfully strung out on various substances (we call this "college") I can usually take a few stoners talking about Phish, or how they think people should just, you know, like, love each other...and stuff. But I can't stand speed freaks and that's who he usually sells to.

A tale: So back a few months I'm in bed when suddenly someone is banging on my door yelling, "Get me my fix man. My fucking drugs! I just fucking need something man. I just...AAAAHHH!" At that point the person started kicking my door in and for the first ime in the five years since I moved to Missoula I found myself brandishing a knife, ready for a fight with a psychopath. It was, to say the very least, surreal. But this fight didn't happen because Drug Dealer, woke up to the sounds, called out, "Man, I live over here."

Great...he saves the night by selling meth (coke?) to a speed freak? Asshole.

On another night I came home to find two people sitting in a crappy old Honda Civic hatchback putting a lighter to a spoon. For those of you unaware of what this is, it's someone melting down rocks. Yeah, great. Just what I wanted to find in my driveway – idiots getting high. They froze and stared at me, and I just shook my head.

Okay, one more story: So I go away for a night and when I get back John tells me that he punched drug dealer in the mouth. I just point this put cause I got really jealous since I dream about it nearly three times a week. God it'd feel nice to punch this kid, and here's why: He blares shitty music, namely Rage Against the Machine.

As a former punk fan I feel I must point out the hypocrisy of RAtM, that while they act anti-capitalist (I remember once seeing their singer wear a Che t-shirt, which I thought made little sense since he bought a shirt to promote a communist rebel) the band made cash off of Sony Records, ya know, one of the "big three." Bastards. "Oh we hate the capitalist facists running this country...except for the ones who pay us."

Plus, their music sucks. Sucks bad. If you told me Hell was RAtM records played all day I would go join a fundamentalist cult. And quick. I don't need that crap for eternity. I would rather listen to the 20-minute live version of "Stairway to Heaven" be played over and over again (Note: that song sucks too).

When you mix his drug dealing with his shitty music is it any wonder why I'd like to go Anaconda Irish on his ass? But maybe you're not convinced yet... Well, how's this: I've been cordial to him. I've been nice when I see him, and I've even changed from playing my electric on my normal amp to using my practice amp with headphones because he complained. Today I actually asked him to turn down his craptastic music and he gave me lip, "You always, like, have some girl over, man, like, talking, and, stuff, ya know? Like, you can be up late talking, and stuff. So I'm fucking playing this to, like, ya know, cause, I, um, I want to, ya know?"

Quick sidenote: I hate people who end statements as questions. Could you imagine Obama doing that? "Yes we can...ya know?" Makes my stomach turn.

After all of that I think I have every right to knock down my duplex, making Lewie happy, and myself ecstatic. Or I could just, as I've said, go Anaconda Irish on my neighbor's ass. (To quote my friend John, "My knuckles are burning...") I think I need to start doing yoga again, or at least leave my house...maybe that's the problem...

Wait, now Drug Dealer's listening to the band Rush...damnit...he IS the problem.

Day 78: Better, and then some

Late last night before drifting off into a NyQuil induced slumber I had a revelation, "It's tough getting back into the blogging groove. Terribly tough actually. I just can't bring myself to write much since not much is actually happening.

But then I just sort of passed out.

I think this is actually the biggest problem with my project: when you break down your existence day-by-day you're bound ot realize that not much interesting ever happens to you. You're stuck just rehashing the same stories over and over again. Whatever, though, I think I'll just get too personal for a bit...

Ever since I started dating Alisia a little over a month back I've been confronted over and over again by past relationships and how they can impact you later. For instance, my über post the other day covered the fact that I, in hindsight, went through some pretty terrible relationships with the fairer sex. With Alisia these things tend to bubble up since she tends toward the more probing questions of what makes me tick. Ever feel like you're fully exposed in front of someone? That's how I feel around her – as if any lie or attempt to lie would be caught and proved false in front of me. This is both sexy, and disarming.

As open as I am I tend toward the closed-off whenever possible because, well, letting people in usually means my "humorous chubby guy" persona get peeled away and suddenly I am screwed. They know me. They know that the jokes can sometimes be more nervousness than confidence, and they...well it sucks when someone knows that about you.

That occupied my mind today when I sat in bed debating whether or not I felt better. Eventually I concluded that I did and I took a shower, and then I just sort of stared at a blank Word doc. until I thought of something to put there...and amazingly it happened. I actually put something on paper...

All right. I'm done posting for today. I'll see you kids tomorrow.