Chasing My Tail: "Oh the games we play"

I am early on in developing a comic strip. It's called "Chasing My Tail."

From the Bottom of My Wallet

Saturday night I went out to a charity event and had a great time. Well, nearly a great time. I was unable to get any form of food there since they were serving appetizers that only Derek Zoolander would enjoy. Fast forward to the drive home where I realize it's late but I should eat something.

I go into a parking lot for Little Caesar's pizza, it's midnight and they've just closed. The taco stand next door is open. We run inside place an order and while they're cooking it the chefs ask if I've parked on the right side. I reply I think so. Nope. Being in there for less than ten minutes some dude put a boot on my car.

Immediately upon confronting me, he begins to record our conversation probably because people hate call centers and this is a call center guy who can't land the call center job. His job is to remain hidden in a dark parking lot and then when people get out to grab food while the Little Caesar's is closed, boot their car. This man proudly boasted that he can boot a car in 35 seconds. I told him that's almost as fast as I can loose respect for someone.

Of course like any ticket/violation, I try to get out of it. It's mid-night in Chicago and I am wearing a suit. I explain we've just come from a charity event and apologize for taking a space on the "wrong side" of the parking lot. In this era where it seems like everyone gets about a dozen hand outs a year, I was hoping to gain some form of a pardon.

It never happened. So $140 later I had the most expensive burrito in my life. What did I learn? Aside from my attention to detail must be heightened in the late hours? Parking lot attendants have one of the worse career choices ever. Who can honestly go through a day let a lone weeks or years at a job where it's your responsibility to ruin some one's day?

I am going out on a limb here and guessing that the majority of parking lot attendants working night shift/weekends are bitterly processing a break up.

WGN-720 AM Interview of Mike Maxwell by Jim St. Augustine

Recreationally Superior

10 years ago I was enjoying my time at Ripon College. I was once invited to be apart of something very special. I was asked to join Ken & Leo's team of perennial champions for indoor soccer. I don't know how I was blessed to be on such a stacked team. We cruised through the regular season to a top seed for the playoffs. As we neared my illusive "Intramural Champion" T-shirt, we suffered a devastating loss in the playoffs. It was brutal. I spent years of trying to balance academics with occasional athletic competition to only come up empty again. Was I destined to be the Karl Malone or Dan Marino or the rec sports world?

Many people like to say "time heals all wounds." It may be a stretch but "forgive, never forget" seemed to transcend more for me on this matter. A decade past and I have to be honest with myself. "At 30 years old, is my recreational sports career over?" How could I explain to my nieces and nephews that there was not much glory in my day, just great sportsmanship?

God sure works in mysterious ways. (Sorry to go Tebow-light on you there.) I caught up about 4 years ago with a friend, Vinny, who was the General Manager youth ministries at a church. After getting drafted (not sure if there were any other calls placed) in the first round for the flag football season, I helped the team to a "prestigious" 2-7 season. We lost a great man (Gabe) to a knee injury mid-season and also a few of the women players suffered season ending injuries/babysitting conflicts. We then ventured into indoor volleyball, where against the odds we finished the season with a respectable record and one playoff win. The off season was draining. Where do we go from here? Are we a team? Will everyone be back? We have the talent but do we have a team?

There was no way we could enter as a pre-season favorite to win it all. No way. Although a few key acquisitions of talented free agents added enough excitement around the league. We played our game, Flying Popes volleyball. That took us to a strong record and a #3 seed in the tourney. We knew it was possible, but it wouldn't come easy. Our playoff run resumed last night. The Flying Popes, in their first Final Four appearance, against the #2 seed, TFC. After, edging them out 2-1 in the match, the Flying Popes felt that perhaps we were on the verge of greatness.

I remained with a tempered enthusiasm. The tragic memory of that misdirected goal 10 years ago on the soccer field was at the front of my mind during the intermission. Sure, there was pressure but only for our opponents. It was like a Robert Redford movie mixed with a Kevin Costner movie topped off with some Gene Hackmanesque moments. There was just too much fate. The Flying Popes diligently took care of business and swept the finals against the Jet Setters.

We won. Champions. I was a champion. After a decade of struggle, I was presented with a black long sleeve shirt that reads "Players Sports Group Champions." I've always wondered what it was like for Jordan to clench the trophy after Game 5 in 1991. I've never been so humbled by such a marvelous thermal shirt.
The ref immediately congratulated us, then at the championship shirt presentation ceremony the questions began to fly. "Are you guys coming back next season?" "Are you going to step up to the B League?" "Where do you go from here?"

Where do we go from here? Where do I go from here? I've just achieved what appears to be a lifelong dream, to be recreationally superior to my peers. What does anyone in the face of triumph do? Reflect.

Will I be back? I don't know. Why not go out on top? How much longer will I have the drive and competitiveness to keep me at the top of my recreational game? I think it's best to say I need time. Time to reflect on these memories forged over this improbable season. Maybe I'll just take the next couple weeks to spend time with my family and friends, hopefully just get back to a normal life. Time to recharge, focus on what Mike needs. It's safe to say, I am proud to be a Flying Pope. I hope to finish my recreational career a Flying Pope. Is that up to me? I'm not sure. I've made some great friends over the years as a Flying Pope and I certainly expect those friendships to long outlast my days in uniform/sweatband. I'd like to think the recreational sports system is not as bottom line driven as it's counterparts but if a tough decision is needed I certainly wouldn't stand in the way of the organization's future.


I certainly won't let this go to my head, that would be ridiculous. No one wants to be around someone who takes them self too seriously.



Mr. Butter Face

There's that old expression that 'slow and steady wins the race.' Well, that's nice and all but that is a cushion for slow people whose parents or teachers are hoping to God that something else in life distracts them from wasting their life with a 'dream.'

Dreams vary for people of course. Dumb point Mike, what else? I've had some time to get my adult life moving in effort to land some of these 'dreams.' Time passes and then you revise said dreams and end up with goals. These 'goals' are things that typically are less damaging to the ego when you miss out on them, after all, goals are something that hangs over you professionally so personally they can suck an egg if they must.

I've dreamt of someday being in great shape. If I were to get into amazing, toned, muscular shape I could be the epitome of male butter faces. I think that growing up in the Midwest, with my dad reminding me to be realistic, that I aimed right on mark to one day be a butter face. Well, I graduated college, not in shape. Time went by and now I maintain a fitness regimen due the pending rivalry between denim's spacial capacity and my stomach's inclination to never let go of the mass quantities of pizza I eat.

I no longer dream of being a male butter face. I have a goal of one day winning a rec league title. There is something to be said about the struggle between my friends and I against other people our age to gain validation as the most qualified recreational human in a particular sport. I've been on winning teams in gym class, how is this still an obsession of mine? Maybe life would be different if upon completing a memorable run to gym class champions, the teacher/coach let us know it's perfectly fine to not be humble in this moment, the rest of our life will silence us soon enough.

Sounds About Right: My 1st Comic Strip

I've been inspired by friend & fellow comedian Dale Zawada to use the simple yet direct Rage Maker comic strip template. Dale's 'Adventures in Comedy' is personally one of my favorite things that is done weekly by a comedian. I hope to follow suit with my own comic. "Sounds About Right" is an expression my brother and I would say constantly growing up when life basically punched us in the face. Perhaps, "Sounds About Right" is the rich man's "it is what it is" in regards to surrendering to some absurd B.S. I hope you enjoy it, share it and come back for more personal stories drawn out.

Pan-handled in the Loop

I've worked in Chicago going on three years now. Some of my fondest moments are of helping others in this city. However, let's be honest making the same commute and seeing the same pan-handlers in the same spot for years is an odd social commentary.

The best pan handler out there is the musical pan-handler. Now conventional wisdom says, if one is going to show they're really seriously in need, forgo the string section and hit up the brass or woodwind section. I fear that someday I may be a father and my child will want to have music lessons. No problem as long as they stay away from the saxophone. There seems to be only 2 paths of the saxophone; jam band member or headlining during rush hour on a bridge or under it for that matter.

I walked by a guy jamming the 'Bear down Chicago Bears' song on the sax and it was a nice touch to a long work day. It was getting cold as the sun set but no excuses, he did stumble a bit. Now he's telling us that not only does he need cash, a job, and a warm place to stay, but some lessons wouldn't hurt either. By far, the best musical pan-handler in Chicago is on the Madison Street bridge from about 4-6p. He rocks out on a couple drums. Seeing the state of our economy, I will never judge one's perspective on what qualifies as a legitimate 'investment opportunity.' Odds are his returns will be ten fold to any social security for my generation.

Yesterday I found myself in an odd position. I was cashing a check. I went in to a bank and felt like it was 1997 again. The 'personal bankers' at Chase are pacing around worse than a shady car salesman. As I am endorsing the check I am approached by an elderly woman who rocks my world. 'Can you spare a dollar?' Wait did I just get pan-handled in a bank? In a bank? Either you're oblivious or an innovator. It makes perfect sense to me. Everyone says 'sorry, I don't have any change.' When you ask them right at the ATM what else can we say besides 'I'm sorry I don't have...well I guess I don't care.'

Stronger than Volcanic Rock

Yesterday I took up the offer of an very expensive tennis club to let me join morning cardio tennis class for free. What a work out. I know I'm in need of cardio help when the warm up cashes me out. I had a blast and did pretty well I must say.

During the session we did drills and some basic games that were flashbacks to high school tennis. What's great is that the rest of the regulars know each other and may be able to out skill me most of the time. Enter my overhead smash. Nothing like seeing older people take steps back as I wind up to make them dance like a cliche western movie scene.

The end of the class had the pro paired with me and I smashed the winning point. Don't worry I'll told my parents already of my awesomeness. I was happy to end on a winner but then looked to see that I have cracked/bent my racket on both sides of the face. I'd like to think the good people at Wilson make quality rackets at all levels and that I perhaps am too strong for "volcanic formula" rackets. Where do I go now? What's stronger that a composite from magma? Maybe Wilson is making rackets out of recycled spaceships? I could certainly take Apollo rackets to new levels on the amateur scene.

I am in awe that such physical domination was displayed at 8:00am after Christmas, without my sweatband set. I and my ego now look for the next challenge to break us. Not likely knowing a "Wonder Years" marathon is out of the question.

Adults for Sledding Equality

I am entering my third consecutive year where I see myself leading a cause that many ignore. Typically every January I gather about a 6-10 friends to go sledding at a big ol' hill. Sounds pretty great? Yeah it's something amazing. See the beauty about sledding as a kid is the thrill of hitting a bump catching air but there's was a problem for my generation. We were not fat kids.

Now that I have more than a healthy body mass I can pick up speeds that rival my 4th grade fastball speeds. I'm talking some sick speeds. I hear kids wishin' they could ride like me, be heavy like me, wipe snot on their gloves like me. Fools.

The problem is that my friends and I are always the only people who can drive themselves to the hill without any kids. Who needs kids to have a good time? Huh? When did we get to a point in our lives where we said you know what would be great about this nostalgia? Throwing in some little money pit that hounds attention worse than I do. Not on my watch. When the AWOKs (Adults With Out Kids) go out we know how to steal the show.

Kids want to be us, parents want to be with us.

Sh!t or Get Off the Pot

One of the wisest things ever said to me was my dad once saying "if you don't make a decision, life will make it for you." Pretty impressive seeing as his advice while growing up seemed to be peppered like Leap Year. I push onward through the final days of me being a socially screw up. The 20s are all about making mistakes so adults say. That being said, on behalf of my generation I feel it's safe to say we're screwed.

I have a friend that I swear is my personal Benjamin Button. I don't get to hang out much anymore with him and the stories I hear are regressing in the social norms we used to reach to do. I won't be surprised if I get to see photos on Facebook of his fort made in his parents' basement with bedsheets. I would also be the most jealous of that nonsense.

My family is molting layers of responsibilities worse than the tragic night scene in Gremlins. There comes a point where the adult table of life thins itself out and there's room to bring in a newbie. Someone that will refresh the cycle of errors and give the sigh of relief to the predecessors for they weren't wrong, it's a right of passage.

That's what maybe is the toughest pill. Failing to follow the path worn by other is a mistake, for whom I won't know until I admit I'm done.

Sweet Sweet Music

There is something special when it comes to those that are unfortunately down on their luck. They have most likely gone through some of the toughest things I can only imagine. I really wish I had the time to understand what happened but to be frank, that's just too idealistic and we all know that only works on English class essays.

What is it about while losing it all that we grab one thing to be the cornerstone of our new foundation? If your house were to burn down what would you grab? So to speak. Outside from my dog, an tangible item I would take from my house? Probably a copy of my home owner's insurance policy.

When you walk the streets of a major city in the winter time it's depressing at times. There are so many people on the streets without a place to turn. However, there are people in this situation that have a sense of humility that is just fantastic. The homeless musicians of America.

Is the saxophone the unofficial instrument of the homeless community? Perhaps people should be a bit more leery when their kid is in jazz ensemble. You know sweetie, if you hit the bricks, the rush hour commute sure will love to hear this alto sax. I guess that's the thing being said when your kid picks an instrument;
guitar- "I need all the help I can to get laid."
piano- "I can't say no to you mother."
saxophone- "isn't it cool under this viaduct?"


As much as people in Chicago rave about bland groups like Wilco, I'd much rather spend $20 and see the kids outside the Art Institute rock on with the drum buckets.

Where's the Love?

It's that time of year again where we all bundle up next to each other as we walk by the homeless guy with the Starbucks cup. I like the holidays, kind of. There used to be a time where they were a lot of fun. Then I became the one who doesn't have kids and now I shuttle all over to view the effectiveness of fertility in my family.

Kids are great*. What is magical about kids is that they don't care if they are playing with an expensive toy or shooting rubber bands at each other they just want attention. What is really magical about kids is how they bring out the compromises in their parents. As an innocent bystander I realize that when you're a parent you give everything you can for your kids, otherwise you're an asshole. No really, I believe that if you go to bed at night thinking "wow, that wasn't too bad" while raising kids you probably aren't raising them. There is a nice trade off about having the kids and that's training them to be little house cleaners.

As I go to half a dozen homes this holiday season, I know there will be one key question on everyone's mind. "Where's the ring?" See, people are happy to see people together but like a tv show this shit has to keeping progressing. I am at the point in my relationship where people are wondering...well...when...Settle down people. The way that it's not cool to ask a fat lady when she is due or an old person if they have chosen their retirement home, don't ask when a couple is getting married.

Some may look at it with a BS sports metaphor of talking to the pitcher during a no-hitter. No. It's just none of your damn business. Since when are people excited to put sack up $150 for a country club dinner. The best person asking me about my relationship is my dad. I am almost thirty and he still hasn't given me "the talk." So when he wants to know if I am to sh!t or get off the pot he just asks "So how's that goin'?" Effective in his own way.

Another field condition is the blocker. I lost my blocker. The blocker is the couple in the family who is "ahead" of you in the line of engagement/marriage. You can tell they are doing a great job when you get out of a family outing only hearing about it once or twice. Who runs out of a single back formation? A jackass that's who.

It's going to be hard to not get knocked on my ass.

Flying Popes - Week1

I had a goal of mine since graduating high school. Play football better than I did freshman year. Fortunately for me I set the bar as low as possible back in the day. As I approach the third decade of my life I realize that I am finally hitting my stride, as a consistently sufficient rec sport player.

My friend asked recently for me to join a co-ed flag football team. I jumped at the chance to prove to myself and dad that I was under utilized in freshman football. Last week was game 1 and for not ever playing together we did well.

We are the Flying Popes.

Upon walking to the first offensive huddle we really made a big stride. "Who's QB?" See with that type of open communication how could we not triumph in our first game? Well, it appears that our opponents were well versed in each other's talents. The popes learned on the fly.

I may have pulled off the award for most body surface covered in Under Armor. We found ourselves down at the half and with no statistian available for us, perhaps as many penalty yards as offensive yards. We do have great defense, except on the two score we let up but hey, it's rec league.

I was honored to be QB for a portion of the game. You know there's a filter missing when you explain a play via "Madden" experience. Based on that the team is looking forward to my dynasty model I boasted at half time. I did geek out so much about this season I went and geared up. New cleats (oversized bc I am too susceptible to Marshall's prices) and under armor pants and long sleeve were donned as I looked like someone who frankly, knew what he was doing. Wrong. If you buy one thing the wrong size, don't make it the shoes. I was sliding around before I picked up my feet.

We eventually scored but it wasn't enough to win (20-7). There is something wonderful about this game. It's great to have people support you blindly to run or scramble and then immediately understand that you weren't embellishing when I said I run like a donkey.

Flag football allows us to run around like a bunch of kids at recess and then go get beer. Where is there a problem with this? I see an epic game one fine evening when an early winter storm drops snow on our turf. My only hope is to get enough notice for a camera crew.

Fair but tough questions

I think there is so much going on in across the globe let alone the land of the free that we are avoiding the obvious questions because we don't want to hurt feelings of people that well, are probably on the ropes.

1. Who the hell in their right mind wants any fish for ummm years after a castrophy like the BP spill?

I have been to the Gulf coast and thought it was a fun place as a kid. This place is a trainwreck to say it nice. You have chronic poverty then Katrina and now a oil bath (spill is a polite term when you fix a mess in less than a whole damn season!). Recently I heard on the news that a small portion of the Gulf is open to fishermen. Good to get them back to work.


2. Why are people still lining up to live near or swim in a tri-state toilet?


I love Chicago very much and find almost all of it to be best I've ever seen. Almost. We as a city just can't get enough of the wonder that is Lake Michigan. I agree it's beautiful and calming and even at times blue. However, it is chronically closed for contamination reasons. People bring their kids and pets to this awesomely huge lake and it's sooo dirty the government says "shit man, stay out of the water!" Why? Shit. There is so much downstream and Chicago pollution from our own nastiness we can't go into a GREAT LAKE! That's like hitting it off with some smoking hot man/woman and only to take them the border of Pleasureville and find that they've been slumming it with a nasty even a carnie wouldn't tap. Meanwhile people constantly buy "lakefront property."

3. How is it anyone can make a politician their personal savior/hero?

The current level of political awereness is the best bronze medal to the worthless government leadership in the past ten years. I appreciate my government and the majority of the services rendered to us as a naition. Living in Chicago I have a privelage that not most in the nation have. We see bullshit politicians everywhere. It would impress me if there were more ethical than unethical politicians currently serving. In Illinois we are working on a steady careerpath of governor to inmate. When we were kids teachers let us know that politicians were people to look up to. The battle between two parties is a joke. Any belief in one over the other is as though chosing the highway over side roads during rush hour. There is no winning. At best there is less losing.

If I at some point hurt your feelings congrats on not being numb, yet.

7 Year Plan: Canine SVU

7 Year Plan: Canine SVU

Canine SVU

I feel as though its fair to say that I have trust issues. Nothing all that uncommon for a moderately young person. However, my compulsion has now worn into my one level of responsibility that I never though would change. My dog.

It's wierd on many levels to admit that I send my dog once a week to a "doggie day care." Whenever people hear that they immediately think I'm some fool that drives a Volvo sportwagon. Not true. I just have a dog that was in need of rescue and now needs to chill with other dogs.

Enter the problem. The site owner is awesome. One of the best dog people I know. One day she tells me that everything went well. In fact, we made friends today. Great news right? I imagine hearing that my (girl dog) has made friends with Trixie, Belle, or Kelly Clarkson. This moment in time is something I imagine an actual father fears. Bonnie told me that my dog made friends with Bo and Harry. BO and HARRY! Are you kidding me? My dog is nearly 1.5 years old. Who matches such a young dog up with boy dogs so early?

I immediately rush to judgement that Bonnie is covering for the antics of the day. Did Bo and Harry rape my dog? After all she is young and let's be honest here how does a dog say no? It's hard to give a crotch shot when that crotch is up your butt. She's just too young to be doggie raped! It's statchatory doggystyle!

They grow up fast and in the case of dogs, way faster than you control. Thank God at least you can still crate them when they get older.

Yes Dear.

As time has passed in my relationship that defies all rules I set up when floating in bachelorhood I have begun to realize that in affairs of the heart I am the worse negotiator. Ever.



Rule 1. House cats will never live in my house.

It has been almost two years of the most worthless animal God created living in my house. Women and countless gay men disagree about why cats have value. First and foremost I am lectured for hours if I forget to flush the toilet. What if I decided to just crap in your shoe box on the floor? Cats instinctly cover their "waste." Not Fur-turd (my appointed name). She actually paws the litter out on the floor so the stink can really mature for the month long quest to see if I vomit in my own bathroom without the help of food poising.



Rule 2. You can make friends as you please, on Facebook.

It came to my attention late Saturday after my girlfriend and a couple pitchers of margaritas hung out with her BFF. There is a revelation that is destined to every set of female girlfriends. Our boyfriends should be friends.
Although this bedroom-laced incentive plan is an easy plan to draw you need to ensure there are some common ground. Fortunately there is for us. We both love video games and not having to go out to bars unless forced by birthdays and “in-town” friends. We both think each other has douche bags for friends. Let it be known guys keep a douche bag friend around for the same reason there is a token ugly/fat girl in your click. We want to look better too. Forcing this relationship is expected. I am impressed it took this long to happen in my world. I just need to get better about my fantasy sport lingo so we don’t ever bring up the topic of engagements and wedding.


Rule 3. Sorry is a word designed by women for men to use.

Life and love and bonded together by three little words. I am sorry. I used to get mad about how much I said sorry in life in general. Then I found myself in a long term relationship and wow, I am shattering all sorts of apologetic records. It’s not like we are plagued with arguments or anything. There are just things you would like to run a bit smoother and you “discuss.” A real non-earthshaker is making the bed. Right? I feel like I am in the movie “the Prestige” with Christian Bale because I bring a simple point and request to the table and without breaking a sweat I am ending wondering how the hell I went from asking for help to asking for pardon on initiating such a conversation after the royal flush of female cop outs – the “long day.” I believe women manage to have long days when they realize it’s a couple weeks from their period and can’t use that to silence their spouse. Life and love are full of challenges that often we don’t want to face head on. Well, I am not the gym teacher of life excuses. Without further delay, I am sorry.

Part of me is curious to why we don’t have a female president yet. I don’t know if they would fare any better but I certainly believe there would be a lot less excuses and more press conferences begging for forgiveness.

The Eve of Crossroads

Holy crap life has moved so fast that I am not even worried about my age getting to be 29. See that's what's swell about being a guy. We have statistical evidence that we tend to get the better end of the aging dilemma. I would be pumped about that but it's not like my last name is Clooney.

What bothers me is that I have only 365 more days to make some essential mistakes in life. The thirties is for coming into your own and being a man/adult. The twenties is for you to constantly screw up like you did as a teen but this time with bills. I am excited to be thirty. Frankly I just want to get through the next year healthy, beat some video games and have some great stage time.

What are some fun mistakes to make before thirty.
1. take a horrible vacation
2. grow a beard
3. try to bring back muscle tee's
4. get a second dog - already named "Chewy"
5. find vegetables and salads I enjoy to eat
6. go back to apply for my first job at the movie theater again
7. buy season tickets to Northwestern football.

One Armed Man & Other Quick Hits

It has been three weeks since I broke my right wrist. I can't count the number of times women have seen me with a cast up yo my arm yet still expect me to get the door for them. Yes their latte is more important than my arm. Perhaps the half pump of skinny vanilla will ease their eyes from looking at their unringed finger.

I helped hold the door for a lady who had done well bringing more than she could carry, the door closed on my hand/cast and she gave me a look like I gave her the bird.

That being said, if a guy doesn't get the door for you odds are you didn't bring the A-game today.

Almost time for my family to pretend we are religious so we can eat together for Easter.

Miami airport has a giant foor mural of a hurricane. Seriously? Can't wait for the O'Hare pedway to be illuminated by the Chicago Fire mural.

Relationships are set upon wth rules, until you get on a dance floor. Then baby vertically dry hump a stranger all you want. Relationship diplomatic immunity.

Birth control pills - for such a large mistake that pill is sure small. Look so convenient you can swallow it while laying on your back!

New Year...Still at it.

I prefer to wait about three weeks into the new year before I go back to the gym. It helps me to not get attached to the people who are giving their ab bench/seat/rollers at home a break. I by no means am at the apex of physical discipline nor physique but I can enjoy watching the hamsters on the treadmill watch a Burger King commercial.

The anatomy of my gym is pretty special. We have a mix of moms who just can't shake that baby weight before the graduation, dad's that think they are in their high school gym and should max out to impress their unemployed pals and then my favorite people, the jean crew.

Who comes into the gym to workout in a pair of jeans? Is that remotely comfortable to anyone? It's not a matter of being some weird fashion person but jeans people, come on! The only way their workout could get worse is corduroy.

A couple weeks ago I suddenly worked harder on my cardio. A man joined the elliptical machine next to me and he had only one leg. This guy was is so much better shape than me and the fact that he had such a difficulty to overcome not only inspired me but told me to suck it up.

I will always hold a special place in my heart for the women that know their work out has paid off and proceed to run on the treadmill in their sports bra. Yes I look. More than once do I look. Where else besides a "Seinfeld" archive can we see a woman where her bra in public and we all agree- great idea? I am sure some people or other girls specifically find the sports bra to be a bit, well not as fantastic as I do.

It is not every day you see such a sight then of course it only a mirage.

Wish List 2009

Wow, two posts in one day. Someone must be at work when his office should be closed. I would be shredding the sledding hills by now.

Here's what I hope, some far fetched for either Christmas or next year.

1. Bears fire Lovey, hire Shanahan and then bring back the Honey Bears. Losing is fine with a collection of hot teachers shaking pompoms.

2. National Treasure 3 to be expedited by Pres. Obama after he prioritizes how to fix amateur sports for his viewing pleasure.

3. All Chicago sports teams to have aggressively honest promos.
Chicago Bears: Tailgating not winning, is back!
Chicago White Sox: We got really lucky in 2005 and we're getting the band back together!
Chicago Cubs: We have hot girls
Chicago Blackhawks/Fire: We no you don't care but we are good!
Chicago Bulls: We score as much as 14 year old boys

Shoe Shine King v. My Coworker's Vagina

The past couple months since last post have been momentous and numbing. As tomorrow is Christmas it would only fair for me to share the two finest moments of my November and December.

Sometime in November I was walking back from an appointment with a client that most likely could care less what we sell. As I walked the streets of Chicago I learned one key things. I have the face of gullible compassion that street peddlers thrive to see. Is it so evident that my mother raised me with manners and that I like a good story? Man, I can't help it if I know the pitch is better than the actual copy of "Streetwise."

Enter the man who will never be forgotten. "The shoe shine king" of Chicago entered my life throwing all sorts of compliments. "Wow! What a suit! You must be a ladies man with that suit. You know what a ladies man needs to go with that suit? A shoe shine. The first thing a lady looks at are a man's shoes. ( I still challenge that claim) As I pause to chat he is already taking his office out of his Eastpack backpack and squirts a polish that looks like some fancy bird just deuced on my shoes. I see the polish, a cloth, and a brush and realize at this moment I have been assaulted with the tricks of the street.

Please envision a 6'5" guy putting his foot on the leg of a man kneeling to polish his shoes while everyone else in Chicago walks buy. Then comes the close. He mentions so quickly that this shine will last three weeks and for that $8 per shoe! Ah son, I never said I wanted a shoe shine. Since the shine looks very nice you may have the $4 I have in my wallet. Sounds like a better deal than the $0 I owe you. He took the $4. My shoes still look great.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last week before my coworker went on vacation she mentioned she had some errands to run before the cruise. I remember when I was a teenage boy and jonesed on the idea of hearing what women say to each other. I no longer want to hear it since I work in the locker room of ladies with no shame. They have discussed popping each other's zits, their cycles (in detail), women's condoms, and perhaps the point of this; their lady land.

The eve of the trip came and well we were all given the count down for that and her waxing trip. Again, this is a collection of areas I don't ever want to hear or think about. I can say there is some censorship about that request but the worse point was the detail of the waxing person being too hands on for the waxing (again sure wished I'd want to hear that). She then mentioned that there was an ointment applied to more or less be afterwax. (It gets more gross- caution)

My coworkers were being nice at times with the censorship of their; areas, That being said I now have to make a request to never be able to smell their business. I advised her that indeed from ten feet away I could still smell her new aroma which mixed lavender with aging V. Somehow with just the air vents in the building standing down wind made me dry heave. Just imagine the client she visited right after this was done.

I can only hope this is a freak group of way to open V-talk. Someday they'll make some guy sooo lucky and be all his.

That's It! I'm Done.

As I get older I have to admit that I can no longer do what glorious things made being a young guy so great. Knowing that the modern era has made punchlines of fidelity and retirement, I may be able to un-retire from the following, maybe some of you should too.

1. Wearing a baseball hat backwards- like when I was a kid and I saw myself in the mirror sucking my thumb, I realize this has to stop. I look like a jackhole who quotes "Old School" to his coworkers while they rank who they'd nail in the office.

2. Starting my night out after 10:00pm - seriously what is so impressive about this? I have stuff to do tomorrow like mop, take the dog for an extra long walk, and play a video game.

3. Drinking games- If you have a mortgage you need to grow up. Flippy cup or quarters on your granite tops is not going to do anything better than demonstrate you white-knuckled hold on your "prime."

4. Eating a whole frozen pizza - This was child's play for me. In current times my girlfriend apparently wants to eat with me. Odd.

5. D-bag friends - There comes a time where the different groups of your friends may want to hang out. Now having to brace people for how "Greg is Greg. You'll just have to let him be." Not really who wants a tool hanging out making everyone cringe. Not sure if you support a D-bag? It's easy to tell. Are you older than 25, and does he/she act like they are in the sophomore year still? D-bag.


Man alive, I can't wait to install a ceiling fan some day.

Coworkers Say the Darndest Things

It has come to my attention that after working closely again with more women that men, I no longer want to have a daughter. The margin of error is far too wide. I used to think it would be cool to hear what women think...It's not impressive at all.

Today I was needed to lobby for a solid couple minutes before they would cease conversations about their vaginae. Knowing that I may very well have to defend this blog I will leave it at the point that v-talk should only come from my girlfriend or some dropout with daddy issues.

I have heard that if you put a pack of women together they eventually synchronize their cycles and plan global domination. Not so much in the cubes. It's a daily cat fight lotto. Who will make a highly irrational argument that will linger longer than their hummus breath? Who can begin to sabotage the very shine of the plastic professionalism we all banner? We all do. Even I will get in on this action.

Why? Sometimes although it's painful, I sure love kicking the hornets' nest.

Old Timer's Club

The times are a changing. I have for over a week now been injured with some sort of ailment to my neck and left arm. This may have happened from working out or from merely getting older. Nonetheless, I am feeling the message of old man time talking.

I know I am not a senior citizen yet but the fact of how I am working through this injury shows that my soul is not the only thing that is old. Here's a quick quiz to determine if you are no longer young, just young at heart.

1. True or False: You have bought Icy Hot, BenGay or a heating pad before.

2. True or False: You are more interested in brunch specials than the bar specials from the night before.

3. True of False: Kneeling takes a good ten seconds longer as you look for something to brace with.

4. True or False: You have various vitamin bottles not just the multi-vitamins you bought three years ago.

5. True or False: There is typically an inner monologue debating the cause and effect to what you eat.

If you answered true to more than three questions I am certain you are one like myself who has decided to shelve most physical life goals such as slam dunking, bench pressing your weight, and being able to take all the groceries into the house on one trip.

Don't get me wrong, I know I am much more limited to do things. It helps to be completely sedated with denial sometimes.

One more day until I buy Bayer

I have become officially older than I could have ever imagined. Just today I have hit such low levels of adult superiority as buying my first container of "Icy Hot" and a hot pad. My back actually smelled like an episode of Matlock. This is getting out of control.

I suppose I should give the best estimated origin of this injury. I was working out. Yes, I go to the gym. Frankly I don't know why I go to the gym. According to my good friend, once you land a long term relationship who else are you out to impress. Granted he has a legally binded document to endorse his sloth. So, I tweaked my shoulder/back and it has lingered around until now ruining peaceful sleep as I hold spooning ransom.

My brother recommends seeing my doctor but I had to inform him that I feel like I am more of a medical professional than her. Side note: Doctors, when you practice medicine sooo long that you change from a white coat to a gray or other color coat, please actually know medicine. My doc's coat is gray and I feel like she wants me to believe it is some kind of medical karate belt ranking. Gray must be the color coat for delusional.

The past four days I have been on steady Farve cocktails; advils and excedrine back/body. Just the idea that if my grandparents were alive and I could relate to their health makes me sad. Oh, I forgot the kicker. My index finger is numb. Like some sophomoric caveman I gnaw on it until I can feel my own bite. Never have I declared I was moving our society further with my intellect.

I may have become just what I found to be great contradictory concepts. Through my own working out I have become a slower moving and injured person. If I realized this was my fate over a year ago who knows how many video games I could have beaten? I know for sure I could have at least read one book in that time.

"Adults" Only

It has been an awesome ride into adulthood. I remember craving the title of adult for at least a dozen years before I knew what tax returns meant. Growing up wanting to be an adult was to my understanding to be a mature, composed individual that most likely shelved their childhood ambitions.

Do you remember the first time you found out that the word "adult" meant a bit more? What is a nine year old to do when they go to the library and see a section of adult reads only to go on the family vacation and see that the Lion's Den as well provides books. I remember asking my mom, who reads quite a bit, why do adults get even their own bookstore? What's so cool about "adult" books. Thank you Internet for illustrating what mom said in dismissal.

Maybe food network can let us all in on the secret reason for making special promos for food network "nighttime." Oh baby, it's 8:00 in the pm and the kiddos are tucked away. Now we are gonna chop some celery, but this time real naughty! (queue the heavy jazz)

I appreciate the freedom of press and never want it to stop but my final question today is who really buys porn at an airport?

Four Legged Alarm Clock

I am beginning to think that puppies may be the smartest creatures on this planet. I am now into three months of raising a "shephard mix" and it has been nothing but an eye opening process. First off "shephard mix" is kennel jargon for "we have no clue."

This dog of mine is nothing short of genius and mercenary. I have grown up with seven dogs through my childhood and never have the following happened.
My dog ate the wall.
My dog dragged the cat across the floor by its neck. (granted I was raised properly and never had a cat)

So I will explain the name because it drives me nuts on how it gets mispronounced. Bama; such as Alabama Crimson Tide (great football program). This is by no means an homage to Barack Obama (another time to discuss canonizing any politician). When people ask if it is to honor our president I like to let them know she can barely sit on command let alone read a teleprompter.

Here is the insanity. Saturday and Sunday Bama slept finally all night. Monday and Tuesday she wakes up three times barking so loud I can't pretend to be asleep for my girlfriend to handle the dog. How is it this dog seems to know the difference between weekday and weekend?

I think some people say that raising a dog is good training for becoming a parent. I have thought long and hard about that. I can easily say I have moved any tentative parental experience back another ten years at least.

Summer in the City - a 2009 Thank you note

This summer is not over but man has it been educational for me. I would be wrong to not pass this appreciation along.

Thank you,
-Mr. Homeless Man (under the viaduct) for constantly wiping your feces on the wall I pass daily as I go to work. You have redefined "rock bottom" for me.
-"cash for clunker" for making our government sound like something that is for sale on Sunday mornings before the church broadcast.
-street festivals for making sure washed up musicians can entertain people who love to eat off a stick.
-Chicago weather for being so unpredictable we all sound like lame farmers with a harvest that is going bust.
-women in white pants for mainly being hot; to the 60 year olds in denial, this is a fashion statement of a woman that is significantly more attractive. Even if you are going on a boat that day.
- The Cubs for being 45 days ahead of schedule and just buckling now so we can make plans for football season.
-Middle management for keeping MS Excel relevant to non-accountants.
-Michelle Obama for making triceps cool again.
-Bill Clinton for making Bono jealous.
-GM and the housing market for letting my past two major purchases personify financial tragedy.
-iTunes for making a $0.30 increase to the good songs and making me find that Coolio song for $0.69

Corporate Vietnam

I have been told by a few friends that I work for a place that embodies "the office" on NBC. True, we have silly contests with prizes last seen for your kids magazine drive. Yes, we have more internal jargon than a government agency. Where do we really excel? Besides meetings about meeting (get it?) we do have massive micro managed sales events. Costumes are encouraged.

It was just yesterday when I was asked to bubble that up, shortly after being dialed in and bringing it. Now I may not have closed to the point of earning my cup of coffee but it was a banner day for the 61st infantry of the American recession. If the nation was drinking the Kool-aid we are stirring about market progress we could at least get upwards of 10-12 sales on the board.

As we dressed in our favorite movie character dress (we went Breakfast Club- mainly because I got tired of explaining the greatness of Last of the Mohicans), we planned, we called, and we made what is viewed as progress. As we in our cubicles become slowed by the iodized economy it's unfortunate that end the end of the day we get to hang our hat on "maybe."

The beauty of this call blitz was that there were two defining moments. I felt like Red in "Shawshank Redemption" up for parole and explaining what it meant to be rehabilitated. Was my day successful? Of course...denied. Not really...parole granted.

We did get pizza and didn't even need to say pretty please. We did get to play a get to know your coworker a couple weeks before the next swipe of the guillotine. All in all I actually enjoyed yesterday. It was one of a few fun days in the office for this year. I am sure many people are sitting in their office getting drunk of memories of better days. God knows I am wasted.

The Man's Push Up Bra

It has come to my attention that as we all cry for attention in our special way the men of the world have followed the insecure path ladies paved for us. Many years ago we were blessed with the preferred social lie; the push up bra. Now we are as males in no hurry to show knuckle but our equivalent of have a great bust is a great pair of biceps.

There is a trick to fashion to gain the attention of our prey. Tighten it up. I am impressed with how drastically it looked as though we have been working out. Now mind you some may be working out a bit but there is no way we all look like this good. I bought a polo from a department store that is way out of my league in terms of annoying hipsters. I wore the shirt to work on a casual day and was looked at with the face of desire from someone at bar time.

That false sense of security from the under wire or shrunken sleeves really does allow us live to the dream.

Pink, Classy, Sexy, Lunchables

It has come to my attention that in our current economy the generation long push to reuse/recycle has finally taken ground. We no longer discard our shopping bags once we bring home our awesome purchase. As a society we now put dog poop, newspapers, or even our lunches in these bags.

Over the past couple weeks I have noticed the women I work with bringing their lunch in their tiny Victoria Secret bag. Is it a nice lace thong you brought to work Cindy? No sick-o it's my leftover cob from Houlihan's.

I greatly appreciate the double message of bringing your lunch in a panty tote. First off, we know by the size of the bag it's not just your appetite that is bulging. Now I by no means am I desiring anyone to bring their spare panties to work. Secondly, is the bag a reminder not to hook the Tupperware your face like the Belmont Stakes are looming?

Whatever needs to be done to motivate and entice us all, just leave the carrot sticks at home.

Ruffles and Rubbers

When it rains and girls wear those calf high rubber boots... I vomit. No girl looks cute, hot, or intelligent in them. If you are looking to catch a predator, keep sporting them. What I like about them is hearing the rationalization of how stupid they look for actual logical benefit. It's like the UGG has been dethroned.

There can not be a better visual demonstration that mob rule exist such as women's fashion. Currently you can walk outside in the Chicago area and count the women dressed like Harry and Lloyd from "Dumb and Dumber."

I am confused. Is this just a national prank hot women are pulling on gullible women. Ruffles? On the sleeves, collar, and frankly around their other awesome decision, tailbone tat. I can't take anyone serious if it looks like they are a 1970's prom tranny that is on their way to a Calypso Dance Off.

Marriage Material; Structurally Unsound

The news today reports Billy Joel and his third wife are getting a divorce. WTF? How hard is it to love Billy Joel? Live in the Hamptons, drink a bottle of red, a bottle of white, hire a d.d., and erase all evidence of "uptown girl."

This news alarms me more than a guy that looks like Billy can land Christie Brinkley (how can no one marry her either?). Here we have one of the greatest musicians of our time or at least 70's and early 80's and he can't stick the landing. I have heard of people being gluttons for punishment but first of getting married is painful enough, three times to boot. Can you be so twisted that you get off on paying alimony?

Maybe Billy is getting back at all his ex girlfriends that hurt him by dumping these hot women. What may be even more tragic is he genetic handouts were non-musical. God sure had a good chuckle sending out the looks of Billy Joel with the brains of Christy. Their kid is right up their with early Chelsea Clinton as all-time unfortunate looking offspring.

How is Billy able to pick up women that are not hitting menopause or in a high school a capella choir? Can some VS model really still be enamored by someone saying that they "didn't start the fire?" Are women that set with being the one to tame the bull? It looks like anyone now will be able to get their eight seconds.

Hold on tight ladies, prenups are slippery.

Fire v. Fire

My girlfriend lives with me. She moves in officially next month.

When you merge lives together there is an immediate catastrophic reaction. Clean meets messy and everything I knew to be defined was suddenly under review. Based completely on how my closet space has been abducted, I am lead to believe men were not the drivers of the great American land rush.

It took a good four months or so to get my girlfriends shoes to stop hooking up in the night and reproducing like Gremlins. It took me nearly ten months to realize the best way to end any shoe clutter problem in your home and reclaim what was (albeit briefly) yours in the first place. I adopted a puppy.

The key is not a dog but a puppy that will for about five months at least eat anything unless it bites her back. Shoes don't fight back. Four weeks into owning my dog and there are no shoes on the floor and nor is there the traditional work day shrapnel strewn about the house.

I will take the barking and the initial housebreaking. Let's face it, we have to housebreak our spouses too. As of right now the dog has regulated not just the messes but also the clinically obese cat I inherited with my love. It's no trip to the Serengeti but I sure love watching that cat get forced out onto a balcony for hours of privacy.

Even Gang Bangers Hurt in Recession

This is probably an odd thought but I wonder how the gangs are doing right now. The only data that I have is from my best source for gang related news, the graffiti in the public bathrooms. It has come to my attention that frankly the explicitness and over-all degeneration of random names is down. There seems to be no more debates handled while on the thrown and that alarms me.

I have always found the recruitment process for gangs to be hilarious in itself. As I conducted a sit down meeting recently at work I noticed something. A gang sign had been etched into the wall of the stall. Now I work in a rather professional setting. I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. Next time you see someone that looks like they fell out of a J.Crew ad they very well could be a street hooligan.

What is the purpose of tagging a corporate public bathroom anyway? Back off man we own this turf! Not quite the managing partners of this building are not the Kings, Queens or any Jack hole name derived of successful government structure. I don't think that it is much success to say they tagged a vacant bathroom. It's not like I brag every time I am able to toss my clothes in the hamper and no one sees it.

On the other hand it would be pretty comical to see the next white collar crime become hazing in the workplace.

I didn't sink my battleship

It has been a bit too long since I have been on stage and well that's my fault. It's a strange concept to think that when I did more stand up I felt that I was less focused than I am now. Well I will be back on stage a couple times this week.

Now I have said that lie before but frankly too many people are not laughing at what I know will work. Unless I get some new coworkers or family members I need to get out there and do some more performances.

Let's not get crazy here I never have been out 5 nights a week doing open mic work. I like to write out what I feel will laugh and then polish it out in front of often times the "oops we have a comedy show" bar nights.

I can promise you that the show will go on. Maybe not to either of our preferred schedules but I assure you I will embarrass myself and make us all swallow some jagged pride because there is no greater punchline than our own lives.

If you are laughing at yourself someone is so be first to do. No one likes a follower.

Another Reason to Hate Ford

Last night I learned the cost of procrastination. I had to dig out the car that was not moved at all during the first big storm of the year. What makes this even better was the car was parked at the corner of two one way streets. No other car was given the Han Solo treatment. Not only was digging out bad, I had to dig under the car too.

That being said we were able to move the car and it was about 60% out of the space. Clearly indicating that it's stuck and we are at the mercy of the creepy shovel crushing I used to free the car from ice. Enter some D.B. driving his Ford sedan. He starts to turn the corner like to come down the road. Hello, we are at the corner. Sitting there for five or so minutes, we waived him off and what does he do? Asks us to move the car back into the spot that was a curbside coffin.

This dude floors it to go around the block and back down the street so he doesn't need to walk his cheap ass more than a block. After two hours of shoveling, it's good to know that those who go an extra mile may not do it out of generosity but for a mere confirmation that socially they are worthless.

Holy Crap! A new post...here comes the storm

Wow, so taking about eight months off really allows for me to be ready to write. Where are we now? One of my favorite times, start of winter.

There is something to be said about the start of winter in the midwest. For some it's a time blend their inability of portion control with their insisting on turtle necks being slimming. I like that this time every year on the eve of the big storm we get all crazy. McCarthy would be proud of the weather channel and it's subsidiaries.

I wish we could have the short term memory we do for weather for the economy. No way! It snows a lot in December? Next you're going to tell me that in April it rains like a mother. It's swell that we can talk about the weather. I like how vanilla people are when it comes to the weather. If you care about the weather and have no harvest or parade planned, shut your mouth.

End of the Road

Ok, so I should have posted a while ago. Too much is going on and I do apologize. The tour was great. I have come to the following conclusions as I have let the memories settle.

1. There's a good chance I looked like a moron with what I wore in college.
2. East coast prep school kids have it tough too, after all they had peel and eat shrimp on their buffet for Thursdays only.
3. NYC is a dump, full of culture, 2nd rate pizza, and no garbage cans.
4. It's not hard to loose weight when you eat one full meal a day and it comes from a school cafeteria.
5. Single sex schools are a breeding ground for the highest amount of homo-phobic heckling.
6. Dale Ernhardt is the JFK of the south.
7. Grown men can go into Chocolate world (Hershey PA) as long as they keep mentioning their niece and nephews' need for candy.
8. When the phrase "motor lodge" is in your amenities don't expect a continental breakfast.
9. Street fights in Boston are best on St. Patrick's Day.
10. Based on their overall disdain for life the position at the US border with Canada must be a demotion.

Billy Joel is a Liar

The past week has been full of great shows and no internet to document it. So as I write you all there are only two shows left on this epic voyage of laughs. This whole week we are in the Philly area and that is great so I can get ready for the international haul pending.

We are visiting the town of Allentown. Like the Billy Joel song but apparently he didn't expect people to visit. We pulled into town and there is an amusement park with water slides! How can this place be percieved as dreary? It makes no sense.

Today I was treated to Chik-filet for the first time in my life. It was ok nothing over the top insane like Arby's. The past week or so I have forgone on all deep fried food and recently I have eliminated carbonated beverages except red bull and beer. Really is there a need for any other?

Yesterday I unpacked at the hotel and finally had my first casaulty of the road. My shampoo bottle opened while in my bag. Fortunately a few years ago my dad gave me a bag for that stuff so only my bathroom stuff was slimed by V05. (yes, I bathe with the legacy of 1980s volumizing and body.)

When we eat we tend to take what is given from the schools to cut our cost. Over time of the tour I have fallen out of touch with my common dietary items (never pizza though). I went about two weeks without a beer and upon the first couple of swigs while falling off the unintentional wagon; it burned going down. Yet it satisfied like always. I felt like the plant left on the windowsill during a trip and someone finally came to water me.

What may even be stranger is how I have drank less milk than ever. Lately when I get a glass of milk it quenches like no other, ok maybe beer or other fine beverages.

Civil War v 2.0

Last two shows were great. Penn State Mont Alto was first and we did well there and the crowd was into the show. Unlike the UNC campuses, the Penn State ones are all Nittnay Lions not just the main campus.

Earlier it should be noted that while we picked Joe up from his illustrious commercial shoot back home, Ryan went through and drove. He was joking around with the toll booth person and then went to the far left like she mentioned and well, the far left was the lane for oncoming traffic on the highway. We weren't sure at first but when a semi-truck passed us going the same way on the other side of the median, we knew we were in trouble. Add the rain to it too.

Prior to that (sorry for reverse chronology) Ryan and I went to Hershey PA, and Chocolate World. AKA the best place in the world. I bought the best shake there ever.

We then stopped in Gettysburg for a tick. I have been there a couple times since my mom is nuts about that stuff. Ryan was animate getting into a scuffle with us so he could say we all fought in Gettysburg. His joke. Great historical humor.

Then we drove to Amish town and had a killer buffet done wholesome. Amish postcards are the best thus far. Sorry to say only 2 will be sent out.

Last night we performed at the school formerly known as Beaver College. It appears that all the knobs left campus once they changed names about 5 years ago. The show went well and we were interviewed after the show by the campus paper (surely an assignment). That was a great moment as well. It's always cool to get those little moments of support. The Napoleon hit well again with post show applause and I appreciate all those kind words.

It has come to my attention that I will probably never be able to cut my hair again.

New York City in 6 hours

We were in NYC on Sunday and did a photo scavenger hunt. The following is what we looked for and we only missed 2 of the 30.

Places
1. Carnagie Hall
2. Times Square
3. Central Park
4. Rockefeller Square
5. Ground Zero
6. The Met
7. Statue of Liberty
8. Hello Deli - Rupert's from the Letterman show
9. Tom's Restaurant - Seinfeld's Monk's
10. Empire State Building

People
1. Joe look alike
2. Rupert
3. Ryan w/ a woman in leopard print
4. Someone in shorts
5. hot dog vendor
6. huge cowboy hat
7. transvestite
8. Cop on a horse - not found
9. most obnoxious boots
10. celebrity look alike

Actions
1. Directing traffic - one of us
2. a fight
3. PDA
4. garbage picking
5. vomiting - not found
6. protesting
7. feeding birds
8. hooking
9. filming
10. playing an instrument

Future Skulls, Hecklers, and Fitness Flavored 'Tussin

Alrighty. The past two shows were more memorable than imagined. We went to another prep school in Mass. and it was nuts. They had old colonial buildings for dorms, a master headsman/keeper of the covenant as well. This place was again so high end it was unbelievable. It all boils down to me through their menu. Fried calamari (yuck), chicken wings (that were huge. some hgh fore sure), and flavors of ice cream that would take them back to when they were six and driving the power wheel Hummers. Ginger, green tea, and hazelnut were a few of the hits that will be making it to 31 flavors once they change demographics.

The show went well, the kids were really into it. It's always funny to see what a prep school is like. I don't think I could handle it. Whenever I am on the road driving to remote campuses I always ask myself one question, "who delivers their pizza?"

Saturday we were in NY and the show went really well and we had some rowdy folks join us too. While we played some improv games where we asked for audience suggestions one heckler decided to ask us to more or less show some anatomy. This of course provided the audience with some concern, would we say something? For sure, I did. I without missing a beat apologized to the crowd and further explained that his request was just since after all it was Saturday night and he does probably lead a lonely life. They loved it. They tried to say something again and I replied with another line to point out who the professional was in the crowd. They left fittingly.

That show took a lot out of me and at the end I was able to get a drink from the pub on campus and I reached for the new G2 from Gatorade. Horrible. It really smells like a diluted Robotussin that supposedly helps the body re-energize.

I have yet to be able to wake up in enough time to partake in the beauty of the complimentary waffle iron at the hotels. One would think if they are nice enough to have a waffle iron they would be nice enough to just deliver me a waffle to my room. I only need one, butter and syrup of course though.

Perfect Timing

Today I wake up in New Hampshire. The weather man predicted about one inch of snow and I am certain we got almost five. It was great except when we tried to leave the show and had to turn around on a hill before we slid back down.

Good show last night, my timing was very much on according to the guys and some new material hit even with a smaller crowd. After one improv segment I do that is more creepy/akward funny this woman hugged me instead of laughing. That alone was good enough for me. Our host there instead of t-shirts gave us fleece vests made by Columbia. Freaking sweet.

The rest of the week we have shows. Fortunately they are all within an hour of eachother more or less. Yesterday we were able to take Dunkin Donuts up on their discounted coffee offer and tomorrow hopefully as well for McD's. This isn't breaking news but we try our best to avoid wasting money on frivolous items as food so we can visit the disount dvd bin at whatever retail store we stop into look around.

Our hotel is right outside the baseball stadium for a minor league team. Right outside. My window looks onto right center field. It's a shame it's not spring right now.

I should go shower up now. I am in the hotel business center and well I am the only one that portrays and literally did just roll out of bed to get to this computer.

Good morning to all.

Calm Before the Storm...of Laughs

I awake in Baltimore on the courtesy couch of Joe's friends. This tour is great for bringing out the kindness people have and reiterating the network and support you have been told exists but never test.

We will take it easy in Baltimore, avoiding the rival gangs and under performing sports teams. Last night with the Oscars we bet. However we bet that if we lost a category we'd have to say something embarrassing in public. I am up on three sayings.

After today we will be heading further north all the way to New Hampshire. Then we will have shows through Saturday. I actually hear that the university that we are going to visit has a rule against wearing flip flops on campus. I find this very strange that the students agree to this being that the state motto of New Hampshire is "live free or die."

I Gave at the Field House

This morning we did a show at 7:00am. Let me repeat that 7:00am. No typo. Now it was for a great cause at the university but wow waking up at 4:45am on a Saturday made me feel a bit too Amish.

The show went well and then I napped a bit before hanging out at the nearby Pilot truck stop while calling my roommate back home. I think truck stops need to have more seats. You figure you have so many people that are locked away from communication the majority of their day. They come together at the coffee pot and can finally put a face with the call name from the c.b. Or maybe not.

Upon leaving the stop with a new memo pad and a couple new dvds of stand up performances (Jim Gaffigan for $10 is almost robery) I did something I knew was coming. I fell down the hill while talking on my cell phone. Almost as embarrassing as hitting a parked car with my bike (true) this was only slightly damaging to me since it only confirmed my pending need to do laundry immediately.

I did get to go to the hotel pool and new material derived from that. Then I returned to actually swim and well it was more of a Roman bath than a pool. The kicker was that it was such a small closed room that since they recently painted the heating ducts the aroma of chlorine was forged with drying paint. It's a shame esbestos wasn't available during construction.

Redbull witout Vodka?

Last night our show went really well. I happened to actually use a redbull for preshow instead of driving and it worked wonderfully. It was wierd. I was somewhat reiling from buscuits and gravy the day before and I needed to combat that intestinal horror with no other solution but a burrito. I can't help it people, sometimes as they say; fight fire with fire.

I was pleased overall with the show. Great venue, crowd, the material hit, and even the riffing with the audience. I'd like to think that this could be an ideal venue for us but there are more to do so we shall see.

Downtown Asheville NC is amazing. Apparently similar to Ann Arbor Michigan but without the floundering sports program. There is one flaw to the city. It is the one that the quant ones across America all have. The round-about. As individuals we all (yes all, deep down you can admit it) love to act with a British accent. So why not have a foolish icon of British transportation systems? Simple, it's a geometric yield sign. No one can remember the rules of right of way and either accidents or akward pauses are imminent.

I went to a "chicago hot dog" place today. It's always nice to be an unofficial auditor of the food. When someone claims that they know your world, you need not a certificate of authenticity, just the chip on your sholder will do. I eat hot dogs in a very unchicago manner. Plain. Seriously I do. Here they were serving Chicago style with pulled pork on top. Apparently they ran out of Wesson oil to dip it in.

We left town in hopes to drive up to the Biltmore estate. Those unaware, it's a huge mansion in the south, supposedly the oldest something or other and we should all be impressed. Well, it's impressive in the pamphlet. They charge $50 to go on tour to the house. Excuse me the White House is free and you want me to pay to walk through a house I can't sit in? No financially sound nor worth our effort.

Instead we stopped on the side of the highway in efforts to see if we could interest a wild goat in some donuts. The sight of me running scared the goat away. I have to work on my agility.

Country Roads

Yesterday was another banner day for road tripping. We stopped in PA to eat at the best place for BBQ out there. Hog Father was amazing. Hands down the best beef brisket sammich out there. The owner, Frank, was so nice he gave us a huge piece of carrot cake for free and drinks to boot. Note: free food is always a plus while on the road. Transfer of costs.

We then drove over to Joe's uncle's place. It was in the Appalacian Mountains. Way in the mountains. We arrived in the dark to get into their house after looking at the running creek and moonlit terrain. What should be noted on the terrain is the #3 rock on the creek. No this rock was not in the shape of the number 3. It was painted with a #3 in honor of who else? Dale Ernhardt.

As we tried to sleep actually before midnight, their dog that resembled Baxter from Anchorman, slept at my toes and cleaned herself for what seemed to be a world record. There is something to be said about getting slap happy but when you know that the sound of a disheveled dog cleaning it's special regions as though there was a hole jar of JIF involved. At what could have been the climax for this pooch, Ryan says "I think we should keep on driving." Also, the wood-burning stove lost it's charm at about 4:30am when the flames went out and well, I realized I wasn't a pilgrim.

The next morning I was privy to a country special. Authentic biscuits and gravy were served with pork chops. It was freaking amazing. Never could I have really understood why people have steak and eggs or pork chops with their breakfast. I now know. I then proceeded to put homemade CT strawberry jam on a biscuit and it was great. This really isn't a food column but the food in the past day has been phenomenal.

It was truly one of the best meals and stays I had on this trip. Lesson be learned, enjoy what you do... you only get one go around; which the government will tax the living daylights from you.

Difference of a Day

I found myself hanging out in rural CT and it was a blast. Never before could I have so much fun simply hanging out. Our hotel was definitely an interesting one. Upon entering the room/motel we were hit in the face with a backdraft of menthol cigarette vapors.

During my sleep after the show (which went very well) I rolled over to the other pillow on the bed. As I inhaled, it was about as closed to taking a drag from the cigarette as possible. It actually woke me up.

The next day we went into town and bought homemade applesauce and strawberry jam. It was quiet possibly the nicest town I have ever traveled. At one point I was waiting for some romcom star like Hugh Grant or Kate Hudson to pop out and ask if I knew what the weather was to be like.

While walking to the car we met the friendliest senior citizen. She just called out to us "do you have a shovel?" Joe followed with "I'm sorry we don't. Do you need us to shovel something for you." She said " I almost broke my neck walking on that snow there." I looked over and it was a sheet of ice. "Well let us know if you'll be long in the store and then we can carry you to your car." Joe said. "Oh, I don't want to be a burden." The woman explained. I justified with "no worries, we carry Ryan around all the time and you two are pretty much the same size."

Ryan doesn't like to be compared physically to elderly women. Just an fyi.

Later that day we checked in at a Sheraton and they have the worlds best beds ever. I slept for about ten hours. The only downside to that hotel was the league of travel pee wee hockey players running around turning the luxury hotel into the greatest venue for hotel tag. Too bad we are all about 20 years too old for that.

Day 1: Border Patrol aren't allowed to smile

In the past 12 hours I have been on the road. I woke up in Ryan's (one of the other comics) sister's house. Anytime I can get a bed I will consider it a successful night. We drove into Canada no problem. Who'd of thought their boarder patrol could be lax?

While in Canadia I didn't see any landmarks such as hockey players, syrup, or mountees. Stopping in Subway was a landmark disappointment. There was a couple apparently going in for a v-day luncheon. Ohh not to judge but subway may probably be a litmus test for how much he really cares. This girl at one point mentioned to her boy that he needed to buy her a drink too. Moments like this make me realize how women may not be high maintenance but actually just perpetuating the take it where you can get it methodology.

We pulled up to the US border and we again found a woman that apparently was not pleased with the collection of life choices she made. This border person barked at us to pretty much do anything she could with our passports. She quizzed us on where we are from like we would crumble under her authoritative tone. We all come from really mundane suburbs so it's not hard to forget that. At one point she was so drunk off her velcro badge when she asked "what's all in the van?" Joe said "t- shirts." I bit my tongue with laughter as I really wanted to cry out that we had something more exotic like migrant workers or a dead hooker...in one of the tour t-shirts.

Gotta run. More posting to come.

Book it!

It has come to my attention that I often times can benefit from an incentive program. About four years ago I began to read the book Catch 22. In fact that began when I was in the midst of Second City. Well the long and short of it is that in about three years or so I read just over a hundred pages. Until about a month ago I was bet to read this book before I go on tour. Was it possible to read over 350 pages in less than a month.

For sure. I was bet the pizza dinner of my choice. That may not be much to you folks but I come from a time where literacy was bribed with greasy suburban deliciousness. Book it and Pizza Hut were a part of my life for a long time. Getting into junior highschool was a sad day when I was informed the educational system now expected me to read instead of exchanging one book for one personal sized pizza.

Isn't that sad? Even in adulthood there is some form of Book It. Whenever you work or went to school the first bit of success was rewarded like you just remembered that you weren't wearing diapers? No matter where we are in life someone thinks that when we meet our expectations pizza is the way to acknowledge it. I love it when the bosses drop some pizza on the office for helping them beat the numbers. I wonder though, what do the brass of Pizza Hut do when they hit their numbers?


On a completely unrelated note, I bought a pre-viewed copy of Rocky Balboa for $4. This is an American tragedy.

Bob Seger: We could have had tonight

Perhaps one of the finest songs ever performed is Night Moves by the snaggle-toothed Bob Seger and his silver bullet band. I went out on a limb, a moment of declaration yet minimal repercussion except for personal embarrassment. Bob Seger will you be my myspace friend? Apparently no. The delay in any response must mean the following;
1. He is too busy trying to find the actual joy in Detroit instead of approving me.
2. My photo doesn't look like I should be his Harley barnacle for a roadtrip.
3. He is too busy watching the Alf episode where Alf lipsyncs to "old time of rock and roll" parodying risky business. They really don't write tv as well as they did in the 80s.


Not to say I am damaged goods but if Bob Seger rejects me, what kind of pain am I setting myself up for with Kelly Clarkson? Seger was my safety celebrity.

Dream On

Last night I was in the middle of some well needed sleep when some disturbing events entered. I have been woken with some bad dreams over time but this was just annoying. The dream I had was that I was driving to the police department to pay for my parking ticket. While I was getting out of the car I was followed by an officer without my knowledge. I paid the fine and then returned to my car only to see the office giving me another parking ticket.

That was just malicious. Who gives someone a ticket while they pay thier ticket? Fortunately, I have remote control over my dreams and didn't have to go to court for it.

I have two main fears in my life that are tangible. The biggest one is spiders. I don't know why? Afterall, they are rumored to kill off mosquitos and other bugs that sole purpose is to extend biology lectures. Maybe if I saw a spider take out a bug that bothered me I would be more appreciative. I would be ok with the spider leaving a portion of a centipede on its web as a sign of service to our understanding. Instead, those webs are only hung to make me feel like I am about be stabbed by some B-rate killer.

That's why I have decided to eliminate the top two of my fears. I would like to kill a spider...with a shotgun. Double barrelled too. I wouldn't fix the whole in the wall either. The gaping whole would send a message to the rest of the spider community. This could sping into a domestic battle where I may be pushed to enlist whatever is next on the food chain, frogs or birds or shoes.

I curently am on coffee ice cream. Ice cream is designed to relax, coffee to stimulate. I may have found the suburban eight ball.

Man Broccoli/ Cleaning Day

Today marks the third time in two months that my roommates and I have delegated cleaning day. It's not really a day. The actual duration is best compared to when you were at the public pool and your friends through in quarters in the bottom of the deep end and you hold your breath just long enough before you pass out.

Cleaning the kitchen primarily requires scrubbing week old coffee stains that were to mark like rings on a tree the time my roommate started his bar studies. He has claimed to have been tanning but I am lead to believe he is actually drinking so much coffee his pigment is changing.

In a very similar way I held my breath as I churched up bathroom duty for three of us guys. Don't get me wrong, it's not like we're some monkeys at the end of a ballgame...but it is a bathroom. It's like walking into a crime scene. There used to be life here. Just trying to rationalize the grime made me confirm that it is possible to be a guy that is like his mom. I would remember her asking us how we managed to get toothpaste so far up on the mirror. I now am baffled, maybe because I am the tallest one and I know that it wasn't me. Perhaps my sub-six foot roommate used his footstool to brush like a five year old?

There is a shower cleaning spray that claims that as long as you spray it after showers once a day, it will clean the tile itself. I don't really know if I buy that it cleans but at least when it still looks like a highway motel I can point the finger to the mute bottle of shower spray.

I have a dishwasher and love every minute of it. Now if I could just get one that loads and unloads automatically I would be really happy.

Auto Show '07

So here are some pics for you to look at. Plenty more to come but these are some of my favorites.

New Year's To Do/Think about List '07

Well, writing down a resolution or thirty may be a bold thing I'd do in the past. Writing resolutions down is something I take very serious. It's like the biggest grocery list I have to make for myself. What sucks is how we don't plan to run into that side display of nacho cheese but still make room for it. (ooh metaphors this early in the year, bonus!)

1. Go Swimming 3 times a week - I used to think I could do that more but I am seriously bothered by how the ederly make a locker room a nudist colony and begin to recall yesteryear.

2. Eat healthier - Occasionally put green peppers on my pizza. Consider that done.

3. Catch 22 - Actually read the thing, don't use it as a papertowel.

4. Learn Guitar - If I practiced as much as I play Guitar Hero I could be earning big cash at a coffee house.

5. Public Transportation - Use it more. I fear the dream where Al Gore comes to visit and leaves Tipper to supervise me.

6. Be there for my brother - It's only a matter of time before the Cubs put their uniforms back on.

7. Develop a random impersonation - Remember when a Walken was clever and funny? Maybe I could be the one skinny guy with a good Farley, can't fake fat.

Holiday Wish List

Now boys and girls, be careful for what you wish for you just may get it. I came to this nasty realization that there lies a great level of humilty and humiliation with one's selfishness and self-absorbed perspective on life. Let's check out the top things I saw on tv this week for consumption.


Fathead- the gigantor size of all sports poster/billboard for home or office. It could be NFL, NCAA, Nascar, NBA, or even NHL (incase anyone watches outside Canada and my friend Larry's house). The beauty of this product is that it can be moved from wall to wall with out losing it's stick. Which makes for a fortunate lifespan since it will more like need to be taken off the wall of many future ex-girlfriends wall quickly as she throws your weak ass out. I like this because I am a vidiot. There is nothing that cries for footie pajamas more than a giant poster of your favorite sport team on your wall well after your voice has cracked (I am exempt from that scrutiny as I am still on record for the being the oldest male to still crack his voice.).

Nike+i-Pod - Sweet, I always love to see the small sweatshops of the world collabo on a new toy. Now that an elevator voice is attributed to how far or fast I run I can't wait until they merge the i-pod with my shower caddy and toilet paper roll. I am always led to believe that the best inspiration for fitness should be who you're trying to sleep with. If that doesn't work just grab your waist and if you can grab enough to hang a small plant from it, keep running.

Birthcontrol- I don't recall the name of it but essentially it reduces the number of periods a girl has a year. Watch out ladies. So you are not having your friend flow over for a coffee as much. Repurcssion one; once we know that say good bye to the logically illogical mood swings and ability to kill without guilt. Gone are the days where you can make that silent gesture to get out of situations, dates, or traffic tickets. On the bright side now the hot women can wear white pants longer.

Thank God we got past that white after Labor Day rule.

Dental Dam!

I just got back from the dentist today. The installments of pain are due to my lack of flossing, so I hear. My dentist is a nice guy but today was a rough day. While using what felt like a tire jack on my face, he began to give me play by play. I get you are drilling out the bad stuff. There is no need to tell me what you are doing explicately. However, could you please make sure the hygentist gets the game plan prior to coming into the room. Never am looking forward to people hunching over me with the words "just give me the 24 gauge" uttered.

No matter what the dentist tells you regarding the severity of the problem you will be informed by the sound of the drill when it hits tooth. Like the slowest bee sting the first drill slapped some sense into me. Ok, I will floss more. Too Late. In came another drill. This one was a slow mini version of the drill from NASA. I may have opted for being thrown down the flight of stairs it felt like was going through that tooth.

While mastering how to clench my entire body for over an hour, I was asked questions about what I felt and being ready for more of the proceedure. It was at that point that I realized how effective dental work can be as creative sentencing for felons. I was nodding and giving a thumb up for more pain. Now granted, this pain is covered by sedation; for an hour.

I was blessed with nice banter with the hygentist. She asked me if I had spent any time "watching these bears?" It was at this moment I realized how I sound when I am full of it. A very sweet gesture negated by the fact that I thought we had concluded the process. Wrong. The only thing more painful than dental work is coming back from intermission. Hey, let's have that sedative ware down.

At one point, as leaning in to proceed the dentist asked "I hope you don't feel this."

I think we all know that honesty is the best policy, just probably not in medicine.

Face for Radio

Back on the air! I am going to be on wtmx-fm tonight at 7:30pm tonight for the Mix's on air dating show call Mix'n'Match on air dating. The sweet deal is that I am the bachelor that picks one of three girls. Check it out on line at www.wtmx.com and I will report in full post show.

NACA Photos (Mid America/West) part 1

Long Lasting Sap

As I was driving around Lake Tahoe the other day, I stopped at a beach. Nice, cold but nice. The trees where huge, and so were the pine cones. I picked one up that was roughly the size of my head (which is large). When I went to put it down I realized extra large pine cones come with an extra large ammount of sap. I was able to wash the sap off in the lake but then had some transfer of sap. I went to make a call on the cell phone, passed sap on to the phone, and then sap to my sideburns. This sap has been on the side of my head like cement for almost four days now. Someone told me to just comb it out. The thought of that pain and bald spot scares me.

Taste of the Road

After the past six weeks I have hit three conferences and three states meeting hundreds of students. Arkansas, Illinois and Nevada have given me plenty to talk about and now the blog remembers.

While in Arkansas the conference was tied into one of the finest and rare community events. Duke Days, when Little Rock honors the fine show of "Dukes of Hazard." There were about ten general lee's, boss hog's patrol car and many more. I really look forward to getting back to Arkansas. One major reason Chuch's Chicken.

With all the programs to attend while there I had one half day to recover and I did so with SEC football and a trip to the Church's Chicken. The chicken itself is nothing to boast about, but there is something on the menu that makes life tolerable. Sweet corn nuggets. Now as I lay watching Alabama play football, I became the posterchild of a sloth moment. I actually set the deep fried corn nuggets on my stomach as I watched the game. Equally satisfying and disturbing. It's hard to pinpoint a moment in one's life where you can feel the initial curve on the downward spiral of livelihood. Thank you Church's Chicken.

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In Peoria I was lucky enough to hit up two of my favorite places, Arby's and Bob Evan's. Now the only peculiar thing I must say about this Arby's is that it was the most outgoing, friendly, and female Arby's ever. Run by what may very well have been the cheerleading team on a quest for new uniforms. When I was leaving it was like trying the GAP Challenge (entering the store, touch the back wall and leave without being spoken to by an employee.). I was nearly out the door when a firing squad of courtesy sprayed thank yous and farewells. American values, and the best curly fries; you can't beat that.

It is common knowledge that I happened to forget to book my hotel for Peoria. Upon the first night of hanging out I found myself experimenting how well a car stays warm overnight. Four hours of sleep in the rental car gave me plenty of rest until the cold woke me up. (by the way, of all disturbing ways to be woken, cold is definitely a memorable one.) I drove over to the Bob Evans for a quality meal where I sat between the typical male elders in mesh hats discussing the morning commute and pending winter weather. Once I finished I did continue in my luxury stay in the front seat of the rental. The level of class I bring is slightly higher than sleeping four hours behind a Bob Evans. Regardless, I recommend it completely, barring you bought breakfast.

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Reno taught me the importance of refridgeration. I ordered a massive ammount of pizza one night and worked on it for the next day and a half. All the toppings were handling well except for the chicken. That stuff goes south in a hurry. The term shelf life is a very misleading one. I was quick to realize that the average time frame for determining shelf life of food is almost always hind sight.

The road is great but there is something to be said about home cooking, you don't need to sleep in a car to enjoy it.