Holy balls...

...I'm tired. I've been working at the Pov a bunch. I get a break soon and I'll update. Hope all is well...

A few random notes...

...Alisia and I got an apartment...
...I got my class schedule figured out for the semester...the less I think about how tired I'll be, the better...
YAY! haircut...
....................................the other night a guy from Crazy Mike's on Broadway called to ask if he could send a drunk person our way. The Pov's zero-tolerance on booze, so we said no...the guy aksed, and I quote, "But what am I supposed to do? He's passed out in the action section and I need to close up."...h-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s..........................
......Sleep man, it's good....If you see it just tell it I said hi.......
Holla.

Days 180 through 183: Camping, the 5-monther, and more

Quick words: Apparently a few people got the idea from my last update that things were bad. Real bad. Actually, things are good. Real good. I'm happy, and I have some direction with my life again. I also have a good thing going on with my lady friend, who for some unknown reason six weeks ago (she says love, I say "drug-induced insanity") agreed to become my roommate for the following year. (I asked her by giving her a stuffed monkey holding a note that asked, "Would you mind living with me?" She doesn't! And this when our 5-monther is only today. So, as I've been known to say: Holla.) Here's a picture of us before a party back in May:

Our friend Tonya called this picture "adorkable"

Alisia's the first girl I've ever lived with, which is odd these days, especially since I've had several decent length relationships. But I've never really wanted to live with any other female before her. Maybe because the party was more fun without having added responsibility. Or, more accurately, because at some subconscious level I just didn't really want to live with anyone before her.

Anyway...

While this doesn't really do much more than make me laugh, here are some other memories from the same night the above picture of Alisia and I was taken:

John T. sports a molestache that would make Burt Reynolds grimace.

A drunk man sings. I know this drunk man. I regret knowing this drunk man.

This last weekend Alisia and I camped in Challis, ID (60 miles south of Salmon) with our friends Sean and Tonya. It was a good time. Challis has a really decently priced hot spring ($10 gets you a spot and free use of the springs) so I recommend it to any bored Missoulian low on cash.

One last thing kids, a present for all of you readers. I've been working as a research-temp these past few weeks, which means that I've read nearly four decades of UM's fine paper, The Montana Kaimin. Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I cry, and sometimes I find gold. In this case, I found gold that I now will give to you:

President George Dennison, circa 1952, as he studied history, sold shoes, and fronted the STARFIRES!

You kids can thank me later for finding this image.

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 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 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 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 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75 and 76: The uber-post about PHX, the road trip, and whatever else

Opening note: Kids, this is a long ass post so smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em, and get ready… A few things upfront: my brother’s eight and a half years older than me, and he’s actually my brother-from-another-mother, though we call the same woman Mom. So this explains why he’s married and got a kid and goes to sleep early. You can read more about him here.

Why the week away? his goddamned Internet was bugged out and not cooperating so I just said to hell with it. But I'm back to tell you about my life everyday from now on.

• Day 67, Friday (March 21):

Rev. Slanky played at the Badlander (ONE YEAR! w00t!) and Alisia, Bill, John and myself couldn’t pass it up. We ran into more people we knew right before the show and all of us staked out some real estate on the dancefloor during the first set, a rollicking good time but few dancing. The second set, however, erupted with a floor so packed no one could really move at all, but that didn’t stop anyone. While normally getting batted around with a PBR in hand would be annoying, there was something in the energy that made it worthwhile. So overall a good night, that is aside from a few bits of OPD (Other People’s Drama). Note: Bill needs to embrace AmVets as one of Missoula’s places of interest, and just…calm down a bit.

• Day 68, Saturday (March 22):

Alisia and I need to pack for a trip to Phoenix, but we instead spend a fair amount of time just BSing about unimportant crap. We’re not the most “on the ball” couple of all time apparently, nor do we use time well (A big kindergarten unsatisfactory lies in our immediate future). I got hassled at Walgreen’s because I needed to refill a prescription for an inhaler – if I’ve never mentioned it before, I’m a moderate asthmatic – that my insurance wouldn’t cover because it was early in the month. I love that about insurance companies: You pay them not to do jack shit for you; kind of like Rep. Rehberg. The upside for the day was getting Alisia to watch Swingers, a fine 90s film that I’ll always have a special place for since Jon Favreau character’s personality seems oddly familiar to me…

• Day 69, Sunday (March 23):

Have you ever said something so blatantly stupid you thought someone would notice it and save you, but then no one did? Here’s mine: “We can totally drive to Phoenix in one day. It’s only a 17 hour trip.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

First off: Google Maps can kiss my ass. What a shitty direction-giving program. It led us down a road that essentially added on hour to our trip time, which ended up as 20 ½ hours, 17 of which I drove…yes, because I’m a moronic male. Sorry. I’m a cliché.

From Missoula to SLC were pretty much without incident as we rocked out to some badass 90s hits (There was some Gin Blossoms, I admit this). Then I ditched the freeway looking for the Red Robin in Murray, Utah and got us lost. Why Red Robin, a kitschy corporate eatery? We hadn’t eaten all day and a milkshake sounded good…but we didn’t find it and thus the Applebee’s post. Since I was pissed about losing the freeway and missing out on Red Robin Alisia took over driving for a while, which began with her stopping on a set of railroad tracks and saying, “I hope a train doesn’t come.” On cue the train arrived and we had to run a red light…bad mojo.

With her at the wheel I was free to sleep, and regain my composure… which means I sat there, passenger side, scared out of my mind convinced that she’d kill us both. Apparently, like I said before, I was being a cliché guy with a female driver. It made me feel guilty, but luckily Alisia found it charming (this is a blatant lie. It annoyed her to no end but she still put up with me and even gave somewhat constant reassurance by saying, “We’re fine…quit worrying…stop it…seriously, stop it…).

Coming into Arizona, I guess somewhere around Kanab, Utah at about 10:30 p.m., I took over the driving (it may have been before this actually, I can’t remember and Alisia’s discussing Lost with my brother so I’m not going to fact-check this.) A woman at a gas station told us to watch for elk at about 10-miles out of town because, “That area’s teemin’ with em from what ever’one sayin’.” But there weren’t any elk. Not one. Not even a deer – just winding, winding, and winding damn roads that seemed more and more dangerous with every minute. I chugged Red Bulls.

Alisia kept me awake with a conversation about how we first started dating. Neither of us played the whole odd dating game – trying to make moves, etc. – we just became friends…and then more. This conversation, a one-sentence summary, took us nearly through the Navajo Rez north of Flagstaff, but not entirely, which meant we had to move on to other topics like, sex, drugs and rock’n’roll. Okay, we talked about episodes of Friends that we liked…we’re embarrassing.

But anyway…

Speaking of Flagstaff, that’s where I scared Alisia to death. She tried sleeping, or rather fell into a stupor, around this time and I was near dead. This was about 2 a.m. and I couldn’t tell a tree from a person, or a red light from a green one. I told Alisia I wanted to quit and that I needed sleep, but she wanted to trek on saying, “I’m-ah, good. I can drive. I can drive. I can drive. Totally. I’m-ah fine.” So I continued driving since she was incoherent, which meant I needed to change interstates…total disaster. I ran two red lights and drove all over the road. Now, while this seems bad – and it was – I did get woke up… by a huge damn elk. Yeah, Kanab Lady was right about elk, but about 300 miles off.

I have lived in Montana for 23 years, and I’ve never seen as many elk as I did right outside of Flagstaff. Jesus Christ. It was an endless line of elk that truckers and other idiots drove by at speeds of 75 mph. It was crazy. We drove slower, and then we eventually got there…at 4 a.m…with a big ass story of the 20 hours we spent with each other between Missoula, Montana and Phoenix, Arizona and how at the end of it we still liked each other. My brother, Bob, seemed amazed that we were alive.

Upside of bringing Alisia with me: a real mattress. Usually when I stay in PHX my brother provides an air mattress that sucks, but because I brought a female he actually got a mattress and box spring. Holla.

One could assume we hit this mattress and slept, but instead the two of us hit the bed and laughed for about half an hour about the whole trip. It was a crazy day, but it felt great. We’d done something together that was completely insane, and I think it made us a little closer for having done it.

Also, It felt awesome to sleep…

• Day 70, Monday (March 24):

My nephew Ethan is one loud little turd. Totally loud. He squeals. He screams. He bangs toys. He’s two and he wants you to know it. Waking up to his calls wasn’t as much a pleasure as a curse. Ugh. I wanted sleep time, but Ethan was awake and as I would continue to learn throughout the week: this means get up and play.

Missy, my sister-in-law, went to get a pedicure with her sister-in-law Annette so Bob, Alisia and I took Ethan as well as his cousins Maddy and Austin to the park and then to feed the neighborhood donkeys. I’m not lying here. Glendale, at least the area where my brother lives, doesn’t have a home owners association so people own chickens (without controversy), horses, and donkeys. The donkeys are kind of the neighborhood pet and people tend to feed them all the time. We brought them apples. Alisia got some great pictures of this, but since she hasn’t had time to go through them I can’t post any. Expect them in the future, but here's one of Maddy and Ethan playing in my brother's Saturn:

Ethan and Maddy...

In the afternoon all of us went to a mall in Scottsdale so the parents could return an outfit that didn’t fit Ethan. I hate Scottsdale, AZ. It’s a shit-town. A few years back, okay about a decade, my brother and I got harassed at this same mall because I had blonde hair and looked punkish, and my brother had a red Mohawk. Some guy kicked us out of is store saying, “This doesn’t seem like your kind of place. I’d like you to move along.”

This time we avoided such incidents. A little note on Scottsdale: no smoothies. We spent about a half hour in the mall looking for the obligatory smoothie concession only to find that the place had none. It has about a bazillion polo shirts, but no smoothies. What a shithole. Yuppies suck.

That night we barbecued some burgers while my brother took it upon himself to goad me into leaping into a cold ass pool. This thing is not a heated high-class deal. It’s a cement hole with water requiring sunshine. In the winter it doesn’t freeze, but it doesn’t get warm. Finally he said the magic words: “I’ll jump in if you do.” Oh, it was on. I jumped, I froze, and then – shocked that I did it – Missy and Alisia mocked my brother until he jumped as well. Awesome.

• Day 71, Tuesday (March 25):

We went to the park again, but this time to a different one, and with Bob and Missy’s friends Chip and Suzy, and their daughter whose name I am totally blanking on… well, never mind that whole time. It was fun, but we don’t need to talk about it much other than to say that watching two grown men (Chip and my brother) try to fly a kite on a day with barely a breeze has to be one of the best ways to spend a Tuesday.

This night actually marked my one-month anniversary with Alisia, but I of course didn’t realize this until Thursday. Regardless I took her to a PHX restaurant called Ah-So, or as I call it, The Best Place Ever. Ah-So is for adults what Chuck-E-Cheese is for kids. It’s a Japanese joint where the cooks do all the dishes at the table, which is great to watch not only for handy tips, but also because it’s a performance piece. If you’re in PHX and you don’t hit this place up, you should just drive out to the desert and rot. You’ve missed something amazing.

Once we got home Alisia and I took a stroll around the neighborhood. Apparently Phoenix residents love their carbon because I counted at least 20 Ford 4x4s, mostly extended or double cabs. I guess you need such a ride for all those steep hills and snowstorms Phoenix is famous for. Morons. (I know, I know, a few could be for off-roading, but the vast majority were not tricked out for that so I’m assuming the worst here.)

After that…sleep. Precious sleep.

• Day 72, Wednesday (March 26):

My friend Sarah has family in Phoenix so we met up with her and her Father at a restaurant called The Yardhouse. Big feature: Tons of beer. Tons. Seriously. I was in heaven. Plus Sarah and her Dad are really nice people, and getting a night out with someone other than family while down in Phoenix was a real treat.

Beer tip: Smithwick’s is the bomb. Sean Kelley’s got it on tap so make sure to try it (I scoped it out on the whiteboard there today).

It felt relaxing to have a beer after a long day in the sun that included Alisia and I heading up to this place called Lookout Mountain. From the looks of it Phoenix is a polluted mess. Very smoggy. Again, Alisia got pictures, but I don’t have them yet.

• Day 73, Thursday (March 27):

We’re so lazy…did nothing for a few hours and then we went to the play Closer (the basis for the movie Closer) with Bob and Missy – a new activity for them. Sort of cracks me up that we brought a Missoula-style night out to PHX, especially because the place, ChryoArts Venue, is the small and unknown indie art house…just a few days in the city and I find an art scene. Weird.

Unamazingly Bob and Missy completely dug the play and I think they’ll go to more since plays rock…Others have as well...

*Special note: With 515 closed what will become of the Crystal?

The only other note worthy part of Thursday was Alisia forgetting her ring in our room and Ethan bringing it to her. He’s a bright little scamp and I think the family should keep him around. Here’s a picture of Alisia and Ethan taking pictures together:

Personally I think they're both cute.

• Day 74, Friday (March 28):

We leave Phoenix at about 10:30 a.m. en route to SLC and a stay at what turns out to be the seediest Motel 6 I’ve ever seen. What a dive. We got there at about 10 p.m. and were rundown. Another day on the damn road. Plus I was already missing my nephew squeals and attempts to talk. He has a normal nearly 2-year-old vocabulary, but his favorite phrases are “Mama!” and “Yo yo yo!” For my quarter both are funny.

The trip to the Motel Bad went off fine with Alisia and I discovering one big thing: Everyone driving a PT Cruiser is an asshole. Okay, that’s too far. I’ll make it this: Not everyone who drives a PT Cruiser is an asshole, but only assholes drive PT Cruisers. Every few miles we had to deal with someone being a complete bastard in one of these ug-mobiles. Bleh. To hell with them.

I also learned that the freeway scares the shit out of me. I’m used to two lanes and cordial people, not six lanes chock full of bastards. One would think a Mormon state would have polite drivers…but no. Bastards.

After checking in with the staff at Motel Bad (three people with less teeth than a single person, and more ass than a Hostess Snack Cake Fan Club) we entered into our stained room and I felt guilty. What a dive. Just depressing. I couldn’t bring myself to take any pictures of it.

Following a confusing situation involving ordering a pizza I decided to go look for a gas station to buy beer at. Want to know how I knew this part of town was lowclass? Did you know Keystone had an “ICE” version? Neither did I, but apparently it comes in 40s.

On my way back to the room I encountered a fight with a crackhead and a drunk. Good times. The crackhead of course won, but what really matters is that the drunk looked like this guy:

Seriously, the dude looked like this guy from the Never Ending Story...scary!

Gross but true. I barely slept after realizing a divot in our room’s wall looked like spackle covering a bullet hole.

• Day 75, Saturday (March 29):

We eat at a Red Robin! Burgers and shakes. Total fatty ass lunch, but so deserved for having missed out the previous week. I was psyched.

When we 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. And that low self-esteem got me to stop dressing in my Fat Wreck hoody, become a vegetarian, and a whole plethora of other crap. So then I did something that I’m sure means I can no longer belong to the John Wayne Fan Club (I don’t, but still…). I told her, “Okay, I was in some abusive relationships.”

Someone call Tracey Gold, I’m going to change the gender and make this into a Lifetime movie…Consult the movie Swingers for more info on what happens to guys and gals when things go south.

Anyway, saying this aloud kind of queered the trip from SLC to Missoula and left me pretty silent. I do this from time to time. I just go blank. I did this once at a party at Alex’s house where I just sat in the basement reading Albert Camus books. But in a Dodge Neon with only one other person, it kind of seems like I’m mad, or something. It makes everything awkward.

Really, all I kept thinking about was how much dating can suck, and how you can really change yourself a lot trying to be something another person likes, but it doesn’t always work out that way…anyway, it was a heavy trip home and it wasn’t until Deer Lodge that we set our ship right again and started having fun. Alisia thinks I should write a book about a guy dealing with trauma after an abusive relationship since the issue never really gets play.

Moving on…

After getting home, showering, and diving into a growler of stout from K-House Alisia and I joined Sean, Tonya, and John for what we figured would be a good time at Westside Lanes singing karaoke (Sean and I were down for Paradise by the Dashboard Light), but then… John saw a gun; some dude packing heat. Given the local's recent rep for, um, killings, we jetted out of there and headed home without telling a soul…the night was pretty much ruined.

• Day 76, Sunday (March 30):

All day I’ve been regretting not saying anything about seeing the gun at Westside, but I haven’t heard anything bad so…I guess Karma worked out for me this time. Outside of that I’ve done nothing but work on this damn post… my hands are tired and my mind is completely broken now. I mean, Jesus, what a length. If you’re reading this I commend you. I’ll see you kids later. Hope everything went well while I was gone.

Day 60, 61, and 62: A stunted weekend

You'd think three days would bring a bunch of change and stories to tell, but not so much. All and all I didn't do too much. Friday night I went up to Helena with John and we pretty much just hung at the cabin. I actually fell asleep at about 11:30 while Predator played in the background. So not much to report.

Saturday proved a little more interesting with John and I scoping a rather boring parade in downtown Helena to celebrate my personal holiday. I know, I know: Why wasn't I in Butte? Because, those honkies are crazy. Seriously. I've seen a man shit off a building during the revelry, and I'm not too pressed to repeat the witnessing. At all. I got other things to do.

We did manage to catch some time with Sarah and Jeff (married friends) and grab a Busch on tap at a dive called O'Toole's. Not really my bag, but with $1.5o beers I can see why it could be a place to hit while in town.

To finish off the day Alisia and I had dinner (she's somewhat better, but still recovering), and watched a few movies while drinking wine. So that was fun actually, but not very eventful in a way I can articulate. And now Sunday...

A few weeks ago I asked Alisia the following: What if I pierced my lip?

I thought she'd for sure say what most people do when I suggest such foolishness – NO! – but instead she shrugged, asked where, and then said she thought it'd look cool. I then sat on this thought for a few weeks: would it look cool? Why would I do such a thing? But today it came down to either shitting or removing myself from the aforementioned "pot." So, I...

So far Tonya and Sean hate it (the couple who loves together hates together).
John, Alisia, and my friend Paul all like it.

I know some people are sure to say it looks stupid and that I'm officially a schmuck, but I like it. Besides, it's not permanent. I can always remove it someday. It's not like my tattoos, which cost more and will stay with me forever more. This can go away in a matter of days.

I must say, however, that it hurt. A shit ton. As someone with tattoos over bone, believe me, this hurt just as much if not more. My eyes admittedly tingled in a way that made me think I was going to be babyish, but then they quit and I felt nothing but dizziness. This is normal, I was told.

So that's my weekend, please let the comments commence, but remember that it's not something that will last forever. Plus, I bought it with money from the Indy. In other words: Holla.

Day 57: A late update

I skipped blogging last night to play nurse and wrap my head around an interview I have today (I'll talk about it tonight). Sitting down in front of the blog to type something out just didn't feel doable. So I'm here this morning to do it.

Yesterday I had a fight with the federal government and my credit card company that went like this:

Me: You [the Postal Service] haven't sent my test book.
Postal service: You're not in the system.
Me: I paid you.
PS: Hmmm.....could you send us a statement proving that?

Me: I'm getting fucked by the Postal Service.
Capitol One: For real?
Me: Holla.
CO: I'm on it.

I don't know what'll happen because I have to call the PS again today and repeat this fight. IT bothers me to a great extent.

After messing around for a bit, after the postal fight, I headed back to Alisia's to find her worse for the wear. Her fever had reached 103º, which is bad. Very bad. Not good at all. Really scary. But it soon collapsed as I got her to take some Tylenol and eat popsicles (actually, Dreyer's fruit bars, which rock). And that was essentially the whole day.

Day 54 and 55: Alisia gets sick; I beat John at bowling

Friday night a bunch of us went to the Mauler’s game against Helena…It was a bit of a couple affair involving John, Jamie, Alisia, myself, Bill, an unnamed girl (Note: I’ll leave her out for now, but she may stick around for future blogging), and Alex. Even before the first puck dropped Jamie and Alisia started talking. A lot. It inspired me to send John a text saying we needed to stop them from becoming too friendly. We got plenty of laughs out of that, but truth be told it was a little weird when they talked about how both couples should learn how to dance better. Personally I thought we covered this already…

One bad thing from the game was a woman who may or may not have bathed in perfume. She smelled like honey mustard and fart. Everyone nearby began to complain in code. “There’s…something that’s bad…” and, “[Whispering] This woman smells like…bad.”

There was also a guy with a toothpick stuck in the brim of his hat for convenience. I only bring this up because he winked at Alisia in that special asshat kind of way that says, “Yeah, I’m money.” What an ass. And it's not like I'm insecure about other guys looking at her, I just hate idiotic men who make every other guy look bad. I mean, winking? A toothpick hat? I bet he'll vote for McCain too.

Somewhere around the end of the second period Bill and I invented a fictional robot named “Billtrick – the justice robot who runs on pure Patiam Fuel.” Yes, that is a combination of our names. And yes, at the Albertson’s next to Paul’s Pancakes you can find a shamrock signifying Billtrick’s donation toward the study of muscular dystrophy.

And that was pretty much Friday.

Saturday started off with breakfast at the Shack with Sean and Tonya, and John and Jamie. Tonya and Alisia seemed to hit it off (I base this on Tonya’s later appraisal that Alisia was nice)…frankly I’m a little weirded out by her getting along with people in my life. Usually this doesn’t happen. The women in my life often hate my friends, or at the very least don’t think of them in friendly terms. But Alisia seems to get along with everyone…I’ll investigate this further and report back on why this is happening…

Saturday night Sean, John and I went bowling for a little bit. Now, while my game two didn’t go very well, I must say that I beat John in the first game with a stunning end of three straight strikes and a spare:

Take that Cribb! Your ass is now officially owned by PatCo., a Duganzacrom Corporation. Bitch.

(Note: John won game two...but to be fair, I'd been drinking, and I'm taller. Holla)

Alisia felt slightly under the weather on Friday, and worse on Saturday night, so she didn’t go out bowling. After taking out Cribb I went over to her house, where she seemed sort of destroyed. Particularly in the early morning when she, erm…vacated her stomach repeatedly. I gotta be honest, when you’re first dating someone and they start the morning vomit, a bit of you fills with fear – huge amounts of fear actually. But, luckily she just has the flu…which isn’t lucky at all.

All day I’ve been sitting by trying to get Alisia’s fever to subside (she been over 100º all day). But alas, she’s not doing much better. I’m heading over to her house to make her drink Gatorade and see if she’s improved. I’ll see you kids tomorrow.

Day 53: Recap of the PBR thing, and previewing the weekend

Last night's PBR Band of the Year deal at the Otherside renewed my faith in mankind, and then shot it all to hell.

First off, as frequent readers know, I have a special place in my Irish heart for Alt-country/indie-folk act the Good Neighbor Policy, but last night I also found room to add in a few other local bands that I had foolishly not shown love to previously.

GNP started off the night, and had a good set, though the place hadn't filled up as much as it would later in the night so only about 40 people got to see them go all out (though I wished they'd ended the night with "Cruel World" as per usual *sigh*).

Next up came Black Velvet Elvises with their own unique brand of rock. I've seen these kids before and wasn't exactly floored, but last night I really enjoyed their set (even though they failed to play their cover of "Last Caress" by the Misfits). They really showed up and got the walls shaking. Olivia, their singer, did her very best Deborah Harry impression and made the entire set worth watching. Much fun.

Frequent Duganz at 23 comment-maker Chris LaTray (and fellow blogger) next took the stage with his band Lazerwolfs. I must admit that I'm not a huge metal fan. I kind of find it to be mostly noise with very little musicality. But with its Hüsker Dü meets Motörhead kind of sound Lazerwolfs may make me a believer – especially with Chris introducing a song as follows:

"All right. This next one's called 'The Deed**.' It's a song about...um...fucking."

Holla. I laughed at that intro a lot, as did my buddy John, who was equally swayed to, if not entirely liking metal, at least liking Lazerwolfs. Rock on.*

After Lazerwolfs exited the stage things turned bad, I mean really bad. Walking Corpse Syndrome "played," and somewhere inside I lost my will to breath, think, or exist. I had never seen this band before since I have an aversion to any band with a convoluted name referencing zombies. I'd describe this WCS' sound as noise, but the band Crass is noise and doesn't suck as much as this band. That's right. I said Crass, Crass for goddsake, doesn't suck as much as WCS. The poster for the PBR gig listed them as "Industrial/metal," but that doesn't really do it justice. It should have said "bad/worse." I should have seen the writing on the wall when they brought out two drum kits (groan), but I just thought they were being creative...

Okay, I'm honestly being a dick on this one. If I were actually into their style of music I probably would have been down with them more than a stay-at-home-mom during an Oprah marathon. But as it is I just felt like I was watching Hot Topic vomit out a band. However, one cool addition they brought to the night was a group of "zombie dancers." It was shameless gimmicky crap I normally hate, but given the rest of what was going on with this band I'll say it came off as the least "hey, we're a really cool band!!!!LOL!1!" bit of their whole shtick.

Reverend Slanky played after, and as always got people moving and shaking, which is a lot better than having them just stand against the wall looking. Biggest surprise in the set: a cover of Prince's "Musicology." After this ended I went home because John was leaving, and Alisia wanted to head out as well, plus I was tired. So I missed performances from The Hermans, iNHUMANS and Blessidoom, and the announcement that Slanky won the whole competition.

Oh well. It was a good night out.

I'm getting ready to do some serious writing today, and maybe play some guitar (along with more applications and job searching). For the weekend I'm not planning on much outside of a Maulers game tonight, and some movie watching on the weekend...which brings me to this point...

The other day I was watching TV at John, Sean, and Bill's when I caught a new commercial from Showcase Video that had some slightly veiled digs at Netflix. It shows a guy going to his mailbox a few times, becoming frustrated and then going to Showcase for whatever generic, unnamed film he wants to see. The guy then says, "This is a lot better than waiting on my mailbox!"

LOLOLOLOL!...wait...It's a terrible commercial.

Admittedly at some level I feel bad about no longer frequenting local movie shops for my viewing needs, but Netflix is really nice. I don't ever worry about late fees, or something being out of stock. The only downside is the wait to get movies. I hate that, but the films do eventually come so I can't complain too much.

But after watching the commercial I have decided that when I want a movie NOW, and cannot wait two days to watch one, I will go down to Showcase or Crystal to grab hold of something. Maybe The Missoula Riots, something tells me that'll be a good primer for the summer...

Take care kids, I'll see you soon.

*Update: After posting this I headed over to 4&20 where Rebecca said the same thing. Great minds think alike I guess. Either that or Lazerwolfs actually did kick ass.
**Second Update: Originally I had this as "Thirteen," but Chris corrected me, and so I've changed it.

Day 51: Still unemployed, but I feel better

Though I spent all day bored and refused to leave my house, I feel like I accomplished something, if only because I wrote up a storm of copy, reworking the entire scene I blogged about the other day so that it could work as more than a scene. I have no idea where the story will go, but accomplishing some actual creative work made me feel better.

I celebrated with a shower beer. Then I ran out of things to do.

After some bad jokes over a beer at Kettlehouse with Kyle and Zane I'm now getting ready to watch more Monk with Alisia (though truthfully I'm looking for a way to convince her to watch the Chipmunk Adventure). While at the Kettlehouse I noticed Al Pils changed his facial hair to a stand-alone mustache...yes, I frequent the joint enough to notice these things.

I'm still debating the piercing that many people left comments against, but given the universal hatred I don't know if I'll follow through with it. Or maybe I will just for spite.

I'll see what I can do tomorrow to make this more entertaining. Until then...Holla.

Days 46, 47, and 48

I neglected to update on Friday, again, sorry. I got busy messing around my house and then before I knew it, it was time to head to the Union to catch Reverend Slanky and dance the night away. So I didn’t update.

Friday was actually an extremely good time, for John and I at least. I don’t know what happened for others out that night, but for us the night was filled with – and I’m not lying here – a dance off.

Many people don’t know this about me, but I got moves. I’m not talking extremely good moves, but moves nonetheless. I can somewhat dance…okay, I suck but I let myself go when given a chance and have been known to at the very least provide some people with entertainment. Friday it was Alisia, and John and his friend Jamie.

The thing about John is that he’s a bit cocky, and so am I. Get us together and we could compete on just about any dumbass thing from who can sneak in the best Blues Brothers joke, to who’s got the better ass (me). Friday it was dancing. Coupled up he and I attempted a competition on a floor so cramped up our elbows kept hitting other dancer, but we were not detoured in the slightest (possibly annoying some people). If anything the cramped quarters made the competition better since it attracted attention in a cliché movie way, which I personally feel all dance-offs need.

John thinks he won because he picked Jamie up in some half-assed swing-style maneuver, but Alisia and I declared victory because we feel we looked better doing it. We’re both taller than John after all. (Holla.)

Outside of that I got to drink an Irish Carbomb, which always makes me a little happy. Plus, Alisia and I danced past* the competition time, which was weird. Usually girls I hang out with don’t dance, which means we go to a bar like the Union and…do nothing. We sit and bullshit over pitchers. Lame. But Friday I got to groove.

Saturday was possibly the laziest day I’ve ever had. I mostly watched movies all day and accomplished very little passed learning that Ratatouille is a pretty funny movie and that after all these years So I Married an Ax Murderer holds up (though admittedly the beat poetry scenes are awful, and so is the ending...I like it though. I don't know why). That was it. Wait, there was more: Jiffy Pop popcorn sucks. It sucks bad. How that stuff ever sells is beyond me. It tastes like a baseball covered in butter and dipped in old underwear. Just awful. I cannot recommend it to anyone.

As for today: not much to say. I’ve accomplished very little outside of a shower and having breakfast with friends over at Paul’s.

*Bite me Fihkman.

Days 39, 40, and 41: The Helena Weekend

The Helena trip extended itself from just Friday, to the whole weekend. Hilarity ensued

Friday night I missed the Good Neighbor Policy to scope out John’s Dad’s band Running on Empty, a Bozeman-based cover band. They played in the H-town Civic Center, which has to be one of the oddest buildings I’ve ever been in. Huge stage, chandeliers, and tons of older folk, but good times nonetheless.

Bill, Sean, John and I acted out the role of roadies, though not until after the guys finished up at about 1 a.m. Between 9 and that time the four of us had some drinks, some dances with the groupies traveling with the band (their “wives” we were told), and watched the funniest thing in the world: Open Shirt Man (OSM).

OSM came to us with a sad tale. Apparently after 22 years of marriage he learned that his wife had had a boyfriend of 25 years. Totally lame, but I doubt its authenticity. The only obviously factual aspect of OSM came from his willingness to be the King Tool of the night by grabbing at the asses of the groupies, which their husbands could spy from their spot up on the stage.

The best way to describe OSM is a mixture of Colin Farrell and John Goodman – a big sack of hair and bad flopped into a white frat boy shirt with a crucifix on a chain. John, however, thinks the guy was going for a Tim McGraw look (He missed it). I cannot describe what a huge tool this guy was. The kind of guy I sometimes find myself fearful of becoming when I’m awake late at night.

I don’t think I’ll ever be afraid of it again as I could wake up every day, suck a little more, and never equal the terribleness of OSM.

Though I missed hitting the Badlander and getting some much needed time with GNP and others, I at least got to see this guy…well, John’s Dad described it best on Saturday morning while sitting in the hot tub:

“I saw him from the stage and I was just amazed.”

Exactly. Truly amazing man. He had the rhythm of a white guy with the stolen moves of a Kris Kross video. It was like watching that footage of nuclear tests…just a big mushroom cloud and an expanding wave of bad. It’s how I imagine hell, but with less Christian overtones.

Whenever OSM asked for the hand of one of the groupies the ladies were too nice to turn him down, mostly because I think they bought his sob story. As he’d lead them to the dance floor, his sweaty body rippling with joy, they’d glance back and give a look at the group like, “HELP!” One of the groupies, tired of my guffaws at her pain hauled off and slapped me for my insolence, but it was a nice slap.

Though we grabbed a few pictures of OSM, they can’t do the man justice. His badness permeated every bit of his existence, and while a picture tells a thousand words, you’d need at least a book to tell his tale.

On the ride home to John’s cabin on Canyon Ferry he and I had a long talk about OSM, about aging and having everything in your life change. We noted that if OSM’s story was true, and that he had lost his wife after 22 years, that sucks and we could only pity him. For OSM life used to be couples and work, now it’s being that single guy who needs to crate his own good time or fall to the ravages of loathing. Sad. Depressing. We vowed never to turn out like him, and like I said earlier, I think it’s near impossible to actual become as lame as OSM.

Running on Empty played a pretty good set of covers that got the people moving and grooving to the hits of the sixties, and it raised a lot of money for a local charity. So in the end the night was worth it even though I missed GNP (Alisia took some pictures and sent me a few texts reminding me of how badass the band is…she’s kind of mean like that). Laughs and tunes will always be worth the ride.

Plus I got free chicken Parmesan courtesy of John’s Dad…who’s name is John also.

Saturday was different altogether….

Instead of going out we all just hung around John’s cabin hot tubbing and drinking beer, especially Bill. Some of his better (worse?) moments from the night:

• After saying he dressed in drag in high school: “I looked like a fat girl, but I could totally pull it off.”

• “I’m-in not dern…I’m fine.”

• “Why do I want to be in my room?” I explain he should pass out. “Will do.”

• Standing over the toilet: “I’ve vomited.”

• A different time standing over the toilet, this time with his arms whole of vomit covered toilet paper: “The lid was closed…I didn’t notice it at first.”

• “How did I get from the hot tub to me bed?” I explained that I just pointed him in the direction and he went. See earlier comments.

Some of his friends who live in Helena came up to enjoy the cabin as well, though honestly we didn’t talk a whole bunch even though we were sitting around a lot. At least it didn’t feel like a long time talking. Maybe it was. As far as Bill’s huge amount of booze, I blame myself. I encouraged him to drink a six-pack in a hot tub and didn’t stop him from drinking an awful lot of bourbon. But he seemed in good spirits this morning.

For all the time I spent in the hot tub this weekend, maybe about 6 hours total, my shoulder hurt a whole damn bunch. And I’m tired from the whole trip since we didn’t sleep nearly enough. This would bother me if it weren’t for the whole unemployed thing.

Today Sean, John, Bill and I all had brunch at our friend Sarah’s house. She made a huge amount of food and we ate way too much of it, but she and her husband seemed happy to have the company. I guess Helena isn’t a huge amount of fun when you’re young, which is why four dirty idiots grubbing at your pad seems like a treat.

But it was fun and we had some laughs. Then it was just a long ride back to Zootown (Holla), and my bed, which is where I am headed until a little later tonight when last night’s movie watching plans can actually happen. Should be fun. I’ll see you tomorrow kids.

Day 26 and 27: Not a whole lot of anything…

Saturday night I hit the KBGA End-a-thon Prom to see the bands and, as I hoped, some characters. I caught both, so, holla.

The bands were pretty decent, but rather than review those I’d like to talk about Drunk Guy. Drunk Guy was about 26 or so, completely wasted, and sporting a shirt that said, “Hi. I used to be in a frat!” He walked around yelling at people, not angrily, just the drunken, “Yeah! Woo! Yeah!” He also sported devil horns whenever a song played…regardless of its rockalicious content, and or metalness. I had to laugh. A lot. It made my night.

Outside of that I caught some Finnegan’s with Alisia* (I misspelled her name as “Alyssa” a few posts back…which I haven’t bothered correcting since I thought her name at the time was Alyssa…so, moving on). She’d never been and I promised her that the place was worthwhile if only because of the bad coffee, and guaranteed impromptu drag show come 2:15 a.m. Luckily both happened. I love that place.

Today I caught There Will Be Blood, the big Oscar buzz-filled film setting hearts aflutter. My interpretation: it’s…good…I think. Honestly I thought it was at least a bit disturbing. It was good though. I recommend it if only to see Daniel Day-Lewis’ performance. He’s fantastic.

*Not "CD Girl"

Update: Thanks for the correction Davis.

Day 25: You’re too stupid for me

It’s not often, but on occasion I meet a person who inspires me to question my faith in humanity. The type of person who makes it seem like I’ll avoid children not because of my aversion to such matters, but because I don’t want my kids to see a world with people so unfathomably dumb.

Tonight I saw some of that and it just made me think, “Wow, I am really happy to be 23. I am fine with being away from college where it may have been easier to meet new people, but I kept meeting people like you. Thank god I have entered the real world and I can now just, um, go over here…away from you…no, please don’t touch me…”

I actually thought all of that. It seemed sort of liberating to know I no longer have this set demographic of people I had in college. See, as a collegiate you’re kind of stuck with whatever 20something will date you, but once you’ve torn free from the shackles of the tuition-based life, you can pretty much to whatever you want. At least in my experience, I may be wrong.

Friday’s, as usual, provided me very little material. Especially today. I spent the whole day trying to assemble the feature I’m authoring in issue eight (my last issue on staff). Then I just grabbed beers with Zane, ate some OP recession special – the aptly named dish for the economy these days – and now I’m home, blogging, watching Heat, and drinking a nice bottle of beer.

Some may say Fridays need to be spent out, fraternizing and carpe diem, but I feel fine. Damn fine. Especially given that Jamee Greer over at 4&20 dropped a “holla.” That made my day. (By the way: Crazy avalanche photos...)

If nothing goes on tomorrow I’ll be back here, same Pat time, same Pat channel. If I find stuff to do, I’ll see you Sunday.

Day 22: Fat Tuesday predictions

While I’d like to see Ron Paul’s revolution cause an upset (for the laughs), I doubt that will happen. But some of these peeps will win, and then we’ll all have to vote for one of them come November (*cough* Obama *cough*). Anyway, this also helps save me from a real post today. Holla.

Alabama
Dems: Clinton (I can’t see this state going Obama)
Reps: Huckabee

Alaska
Dems: Clinton
Reps: McCain

Arizona
Dems: Clinton
Reps: McCain

Arkansas
Dems: Obama
Reps: Huckabee

California
Dems: Obama
Reps: McCain

Colorado
Dems: Obama
Reps: Huckabee

Connecticut
Dems: Obama
Reps: McCain

Delaware
Dems: Obama
Reps: McCain

Georgia
Dems: Obama
Reps: McCain

Idaho
Dems: Obama

Illinois
Dems: Obama (Home field)
Reps: McCain

Kansas
Dems: Clinton

Massachusetts
Dems: Obama
Reps: McCain

Minnesota
Dems: Clinton
Reps: McCain

Missouri
Dems: Obama
Reps: McCain

Montana
Reps: Romney (The GOP loves Burns, but I think they’ll follow Denny’s lead on this one)

New Jersey
Dems: Obama
Reps: McCain

New Mexico
Dems: Obama

New York
Dems: Clinton (Home field)
Reps: McCain

North Dakota
Dems: Clinton
Reps: McCain

Oklahoma
Dems: Clinton
Reps: McCain

Tennessee
Dems: Obama
Reps: Huckabee

Utah
Dems: Obama
Reps: Romney (Nearly a freebie guess)

West Virginia already came out and ruined my prediction there (McCain) and chose Huckabee, which has me doubting some of these other predictions. Then right before I posted this I saw that I was right about Georgia Dems: totally pro Obama. So maybe I’m doing okay with my predictions after all… Only time will tell.

***

Update: Wow... so I was wrong about most of my guesses... I haven't bothered with a full postmortem on them, but it looks bad. Anyway, my friend Sean made a great observation this morning: "The worst part about Super Tuesday is the not so Super Wednesday." Holla. We apparently toasted a little much last night. But that happens when you go bowling at midnight.

***

Second update: Ron Paul wins Missoula? Well, the internet tubes have a word for this: LOLs!