Tuesday, October 31, 2006

So um...

By now, most anyone on the blogosphere has seen this.


This is some smooth commentary one week before the election. So, I'm the idiot because I voted against this guy? Maybe he should call babies "ugly" just for good measure. Now, I'm sure it's not as bad as it sounds. He probably just meant that it's important to study so that you don't wind up like the uneducated trash that gets stuck with a military career...

Oh, wait, that's pretty damn bad.

Sorry, I'm busy today, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to whack John Kerry.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Da Veggie Code

For the two people who read my blog, and haven't seen this yet, here is a link to a video by my church video ministry entitled "The Da Veggie Code".

See, it's a parody of the Da Vinci Code, but it's veggie, cause it's a... Whatever, Just watch.
(puts gun in mouth, pulls trigger)

Friday, October 27, 2006

An Interview with Barack Obama

From time to time, my blog gives me the opportunity to talk with various newsmakers and important figures. Today, I am privileged to welcome Sen. Barack Obama, fresh off his announcement that he will consider a run for the presidency. Sen. Obama, welcome to TPWK.

Sen. Obama: Thank you, it's good to be here.

TPWK: Now, you created quite a stir with your recent announcement that you are considering a run for the Democratic nomination in 2008. What made you decide to run.

Sen. Obama: You see this chiseled jaw line?

TPWK: Um, yes... It is one of your prominent features.

Sen. Obama: Very presidential.

TPWK: I suppose...

Sen. Obama: I'm told I put people at ease, am I putting you at ease?

TPWK: At the moment, no.

Sen. Obama: I have a very relaxed demeanor. I have always been told that, in those words.

TPWK: Great. Now, some have said that it is nearly impossible for a Senator to win the presidency because their voting record belies their claim to present themselves as moderate. And you...

Sen. Obama: Let's not talk about all that. Let's have some coffee. You want some coffee?

TPWK: Um... I already have some. I'm drinking it now...

Sen. Obama: Good, good... See, that's the first step.

TPWK: Actually, you have coffee as well. I mean, you just set it down.

Sen. Obama: So what if we both have coffee, is that really what's important?

TPWK: Um, you are asking now whether it is important that we have coffee.

Sen. Obama: Because, to be honest, I don't even like coffee. And that's what politics is all about. YOu don't like something, I don't like something. But we both have to drink from our cups.

TPWK: I actually like my coffee. It's hazelnut blend.

Sen. Obama: What if I drop some crackers in there? Like this?

TPWK: Well, my coffee situation has detoriated somewhat. Do you always walk around with saltines in your pocket?

Sen. Obama: Saltines and a little bit of what I like to call hope.

TPWK: Hope and crackers, then, always in your pocket.

Sen. Obama: And sometimes some crumpled up ones.

TPWK: I understand. Now, forgive me, but my readers will kill me if I don't ask. It seems that, from your initial senate run two years ago, you have been primed as presidential material. Forgive my cynicism, but...

Sen. Obama: That's a good point. Now, let me show you something that I think will illuminate things a bit. See my chiseled jaw? It comes off, look.

TPWK: Willikers!

Sen. Obama: Now when I dip it in water, look what happens.

TPWK: Your jawbone turns into a pirate. I don't think anyone expected this.

Sen. Obama: I call him Capt. Bloopsy.

Capt. Bloopsy: You never know what to expect in the whacky world of American Democracy!

TPWK: That's a great point, Capt. Bloopsy.

Sen. Obama: Are you at ease now?

TPWK: Not remotely.

Capt. Bloopsy: Sometimes he pays me to dance. Sometime I do it for free, like right now! (begins to dance)

TPWK: Who brought the Technotronic CD?

Sen. Obama: Happy Halloween, you conservative son of a bitch.

TPWK: Well, that's all the time we have for today. I'd like to thank Sen. Obama and Capt. Bloopsy for coming by.

Thursday, October 26, 2006


So, I had a seafood burrito for lunch. Leftovers. Not great, but not bad either. A couple of hours later, thumb through some papers on my desk (which is a mess) and find a piece of shrimp. It's room temperature, and I'm trying to figure out whether it was from today's lunch, or from another seafood experience (I have had sushi and shrimp dishes in the last month).

I am pretty sure it was from today, cause it looked kinda like it belonged in that burrito. But how did it get under papers? It's not like I was shuffling my lunch or anything. How would shrimp get imbedded in my paperwork?

Anyway, I ate it, and it pretty much tasted like the shrimp, so I think it's cool.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Simmer Down

Things have gotten at little heated at the ol' TPWK, what with imaginary daughters, cuss-laden diatribes, and Mark Foley killing himself mid-interview.

I thought now would be a good time to talk about something far less controversial.

We could talk about...





Pipe Cleaner Crafts!


Let's have a dialogue about thing we like, and draw things that make us happy!

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

More McLaren

By golly, there's a sequel!

Based again on his visit to the apartheid museum, Brian McLaren is convinced that we are on the verge of some awakening as a nation. Now that we are opening our eyes, we need a new mission statement! Fantastic! Read the whole thing! Excerpts (with sophomoric commentary) below.

What if some of us began a constructive national dialogue, post-political in the sense that it occurs on a level higher and deeper than the mid-range of partisan maneuvering, geared toward a rather simple but grand project: to articulate a national mission statement for the United States.

We can commemorate the event by burning the Declaration of Independence.

This statement would tell us – and the world – what we’re about.

I thought that's what we had George Clooney and Angelina Jolie for.

It would serve as a rudder to guide us, and perhaps as a sail to energize us, and perhaps as a keel to stabilize us as well.

Or it could serve as a dry martini to make the whole sailing experience damn classy.

“Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” had a nice ring in the Declaration of Independence,

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness had a nice ring? A nice ring? Those are your freedoms, you dimwit. Those words are beautfiul, brilliant and inspired. Do you know how many people in this world would give their right arms to live a country that observed such a statement? Do you have no sense of history or perspective at all? A nice "ring" to it. For the love of...

but frankly, it has a bit of an individualistic and self-centered ring today.

That's because it's a declaration of our freaking independence! It's not called "The Ruminations on Collective Joy".

Consider, for example, what it would mean, for example, if our nation were more dedicated to the pursuit of peace and justice than to the pursuit of personal happiness, or to a sustainable life for all creatures instead of simply unlimited prosperity for ourselves.

Sustainable life for ALL creatures? I dunno, there's some people's dogs I wouldn't mind de-sustaining, and don't even get me started on mosquitoes. On a serious note, I love that Brian sees no correlation between personal happiness and peace and justice. Nation building 101, when people aren't personally happy, there is no peace. See: Africa.

Perhaps, if we made it a five-to-ten year project, the process could be even more important than the final product.

Here is something you will never hear a Republican say.

Perhaps there could be websites where people proposed and crafted elements of the mission statement, and grass-roots gatherings in coffee shops and community centers where various proposals were evaluated.

Hmmm... So we are proposing that this mission statement will be forged principally by the unemployed and childless. "Daddy, can we play baseball?" "No, son, Daddy doesn't have time for anything tangible."

Perhaps at the right time, maybe in 2010 or 2012, such a mission statement could be incorporated in some way alongside the essential documents of our nation.

At which point, I will find a nice little gun to stick in my mouth.

It’s wonderful to have a history to give us a sense of heritage.

Ah, yes, that's what history is for... My friend Peter teaches history. Peter, you'll be glad to know that your lot in life is instilling a sense of heritage. Isn't that quaint?

But sometimes I think that our nation, like any adolescent, now needs something more:

Like, oh, I dunno.... A Constitution of some sort? Curious to compare or country to an adolescent. I'm sure Brian thinks that we elected one. What does an adult country look like? China? I'll pass, thanks.

Perhaps, in terms of Native American culture, it is time for our national vision quest, or in Christian or Jewish terms, it is time for our confirmation or bar or bat mitzvah – time for our spiritual coming of age.

Well, that statement just about parodies itself, doesn't it?

Perhaps our current national struggles will, like the struggle of South Africa, bring us to a moment of new possibility and new beginning in the not-too-distant future. That is my hope, even if it sounds naive.

To call this dreck naive is to insult naivete, which, in and of itself, is not without merit. This is condescending, patronizing tripe, written by someone who is confident that he has all the answers, but actually has none. That this man can rise to prominence within a Christian movement speaks volumes about what that movement stands for.

Monday, October 23, 2006

The Secret Message of a Babbling Idiot

Those who read this blog know that I once held Brian McLaren in the highest regard. His book "A New Kind of Christian" approached the gospel in the sort of blank-slate way that was refreshing and important. He eschewed political ideology, and was one of the few authors I could recommend to my unsaved friends (who saw through the silly apologetics foisted upon society by most evangelicals).

Those who read this blog know that McLaren has traded all of this to become a shallow left-wing demagogue in the style of Jim Wallis. Witness his latest diatribe on Jim Wallis' God's Politics blog. As per his recent MO, McLaren says nothing, insinuates everything, and is smug as all hell. Selected excerpts (with responses, naturally) below. If you have something compelling to say, feel free to comment. If you want to write a paragraph about how I am an obtuse Republican idiot, save your breath. I'm in a deleting mood.

"believe the U.S. is passing through an era with some similarity to the last apartheid years in South Africa."

Savor that sentence for a moment. The United States is passing through an era akin to that of one of the most brutally racist societies in modern history. What color glasses do you have to be wearing to think this sentence makes any damn sense?

"It is a difficult era, full of tension, full of possibility too. "

When did America ever go through an era that wasn't difficult or full of tension? Does that mean we are awakening from Apartheid? Is that the similarity? He couldn't come up with ANY other corollary?

"It began, I suppose, with our decision not to remain isolated, but to enter World War II."

So began the tension. The 1930s were stress free, as we all remember.

"The dropping of the nuclear bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki marked the era indelibly, in ways we have hardly begun to grasp."

How much do you want to bet he provides no support whatsoever for this vague comment?
Let's check back later.

"In the 1950’s, the McCarthy trials helped define the era, and the era’s particular angst intensified in the 1960’s with the Civil Rights movement, the women’s movement, the anti-war movement, and the ecology movement."

Apparently we are in an era that was marked by the McCarthy trials. Of course, McCarthy is now one of the most celebrated historical figures in American history. I remember being a young lad, and learning about McCarthy's even handed approach to communism.

"For over three decades, the era was defined largely by the struggles of the Cold War, and then more recently, the internal “culture wars” and the external “war on terrorism.” What links all of these disparate phenomena is what linked blacks, whites, and colored in South Africa as apartheid came to an end: the struggle to forge a new national identity."

The cold war was a struggle to forge a new identity? Hmmm... I thought it was a struggle not to get our butts kicked by a communist superpower. Of course, the culture wars are inextricably linked to the cold war in such a way that does not require any further explanation. Yep, pretty much two peas out of the same pod there. Good observation B-Mac.

"Think of the questions that we have grappled with over these last fifty years: Will we be a nation of equality for all races, and for women as well as men?"

Is there anyone doing as much grappling as McLaren suggests? Everyone who is still grappling with the question of whether we should be a nation of racial equality, please raise your hand.

"Will we be an industrial nation that extracts riches at our environment’s expense, or an ecological nation that works harmoniously in and with the environment as its caretakers?"

Good morning Starshine, the Earth says "hello".

"How will we relate to other cultures and nations in the world? Will we be dominated by them, or will we seek to dominate them—or is there some other path?"

You mean, there is another path? Enlighten us, oh master of the freaking obvious.

"Will we be the world’s smarmiest pornographers, the world’s hypocritical moral police, or an imperfect but improving moral example among the world’s nations?"

Any who is grappling with these questions in any serious sort of way really shouldn't be putting pen to paper.

"All these questions, I believe, surface this one simmering, profound question of national identity for the United States."

Ah, now the apartheid analogy makes worlds of sense.

"If we can see them thematically as elements in one ongoing struggle, the struggle to define our national ethos and global role,"

Then we will be able to bore the living crap out of our neighbors with high-minded platitudes.

"perhaps we can find both a missing sense of coherence in our times – and a unifying goal toward which we can move together. "

I wouldn't suppose God would factor into the equation in any way? No? Didn't think so.

"Perhaps the articulation of our desired national identity and mission is more important than 90% of the so-called crises, but we just haven’t realized it yet."

Ah yes, the war on terror is a so-called crisis. Remember when planes flew into the Twin Towers. But a blip on the radar screen. No big whoop. The key for us is to find ourselves. I hope this guy doesn't deliver eulogies.

"We need to listen to our prophets and poets, our pastors and sages, our educators and activists, so that some time in the future, we will know what our pillars are…"

Well that cleared it up for me. Thank you... This is the sort of statement that builds consensus among college sophomores at 2 a.m. after everyone watched "Dead Poets Society".

I won that bet, by the way.

"and so the values they represent will be inscribed, not just on stone, but in our hearts and minds, our families and communities."

Not just on stone? What stone? Is he talking about the Ten Commandments? No, he was referring to pillars. They are inscribed on stone pillars, but they need to be inscribed on our hearts as well? That's a lazy sentence right there. Just throw a reference to stone in there, as though everyone knows what you're talking about. Maybe he was stoned when he wrote this. How emergent.

So, in conclusion, we are having an identity crisis, as we awaken from the McCarthy era, which led us to culture wars and the war on terror. But now we know better, and we're awakening from our own apartheid, so we must listen to the really smart people around us so we know how to forge an identity.

This is why I vote Republican, people.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Interview With Beaker

As a blogger, I am often afforded the opportunity to interview various celebrities and newsmakers. Today, I would like to welcome back Beaker, who has just returned from a 13 month whirlwind tour promoting his latest book, Puppets and Paradigms: toward a Panoptic Modality of Postmodern Muppetry, a blithe commentary on the state of puppet autonomy. Last week, Beaker took the book world by surprise by announcing the upcoming release of another book. His new book Strings Decidedly Attached: Ruminations on Dynamics of Power Within Entertainment System promises to blow the lid off puppetry, and shed new light on this growing medium. Without any further adieu, Beaker, welcome to TPWK.

Beaker: MEEP!

TPWK: Now, I haven't had the chance to finish your book, but I have to say... Wow, this is certainly some of your most audacious work to date.

Beaker: MEEP!

TPWK: Now, this seems to be a bit of departure for you, a more informal exploration of the meaning of puppetry. There seems to be an almost stream-of-consciousness bent to your writing, which serves the prose well, in my opinion.

Beaker: MEEP!

TPWK: As usual, you make no effort to shy away from provocative stance. If I may share one of my favorite passages...

"I'm leaving Bangkok. I man in his 40s informs me that he is anxious to get back to his family, who he has not seen in more than two weeks. It occurs to me that, to his family, he is no more than a puppet. He is, essentially, an entertainer. He has a recurring role, no doubt, as 'daddy'. He plays his character, but is notably absent, literally distant. I'm thinking to myself, someday, his children will grow up and realize 'daddy' was no daddy at all. He was a puppet, pulled by his various puppetmasters, be they employers, hobbies, his wife. Hell, the very sense of obligation is enough the make him shift and dance, eyes glazed over, playing his role, worried, always worried, that someone is going to cut his strings."

Now, especially in light of the familial-rights subsect of the puppet autonomy movement, I think this idea of family man as puppet is truly revolutionary.

Beaker: MEEP!

TPWK: Are we, then, a succession of trained puppets? I mean, perhaps it is a cynical conclusion, but perhaps the strings run as deep as family bonds. You seem to be suggesting that puppetry is literally everywhere, a sustaining life-force if you will.

Beaker: Well, I think you are approaching the issue too broadly. There is a saying... There is a saying that goes along the lines of "if your only tool is a hammer, everything looks like a nail." The passage you allude to is a reference to the negotiations we make as members of our family (family in this instance referring to literal blood bonds, but there are other manifestations). We cede ground to our masters, eschewing control in a manner that renders us as puppets to those around us. We are coolly aware of the transformation, but we are afraid of getting caught. There is a sense of inertia that drive us further into what I describe in later chapters as our "cloth life".

TPWK: So, in a sense, you are something of an optimist. In the problem, you see an inherent solution. We are all given the scissors to cut away from our oppressors, or puppet-masters. This is certainly a departure from your other works, where you seem to see a certain inevitability in our acquiescence. It will e interesting to see how the critics respond here.

Beaker: ...

Beaker: ...


TPWK: Well, that's all of our time. Beaker, I wish you much success with the book. Thank you again for stopping by.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Things you should never do in order

Take Benadryl

Drink three glasses of wine

Put a movie soundtrack on your headphones

Visit postsecret.com

Go to your own blog...



Because, trust me. Whatever you have to say at that point isn't half as profound or unique as you think it is.

Seriously people, y'all were one ctrl-x from reading the most maudlin drivel ever.

If I weren't funny, I'd be nothing.

Please expect less of me

Look, I'm a pumpkin. I know it's Halloween, and people look to me to provide various pumpkin-related entertainments. I am perfectly willing to become a so-called jack-o-lantern, and who doesn't like a nice cool slice of pumpkin pie, topped with refreshing whipped cream? But look, I'm human, or rather, I'm pumpkin. I can't be all things to all people.

For this reason, I am sorry to announce that I cannot support your third party candidacy. I know these are trying times, and the electorate has been alientated by the two party system. Frankly, I find your tax redistribution program compelling. I would like to learn more, but I do not think I would make a good addition to your campaign staff.

Please do not take any offense, but I receive numerous requests from candidates and causes, looking to build into my inherent credibility and seasonal popularity. I can well understand your desire to reach out to the pumpkin community. But, alas, I cannot compromise in this regard.

Tomorrow, a child of 9 or 10 will take a butcher knife, and make an incision into my scalp, creating a removal cap of pumpkin flesh. I will be eviscerated, by entrails mined for delicious seeds, which will be salted, seasoned and baked. My guts will then be converted into edible pie, for consumption during the Thanksgiving holiday.

After suffering this indignity, my face will be sliced and gouged, with little triangles removed, representing faux eyes and teeth. Come October 31st, I will be revealed for public humiliation, a small candle llit inside of me, charring my inner-skins. If I am able to survive the myriad pranksters, who are wont to dash pumpkins about the streets and rooftops throughout the night, I can look forward to a long process of withering on the door step, pecked slowly to death by birds.

Again, I do not begrudge your ilk for this travesty. It is my lot, as pumpkin, my raison d'être, if you will. In exchange, I am given a certain status. Like the Aztec sacrifices to an unknown God, my life takes on a symbolic importance. It is not something I take lightly.

Again, forgive me if I have given any offense. I simply cannot support your third party candidacy in any official capacity. My best wishes for your future success.


A Pumpkin

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

I want some hot dish!

What's it gonna take to get some damn hotdish around here? I don't care what kind of hot dish. Tater-tot? That's a kind of hot dish right? Potatoes and cheese or whatever.

No hot dish? What about some casserole? What the difference? They're the same? So why not call it all hot dish? Your distinctions scare and confuse me? Is there a God? I don't know... I'm confused.

It would seem that my request is simple. The theory behind hot dish is to put random salty stuff in a dish and heat it up, yes? Dish + Hot = Hot Dish. But, and let me make sure I understand you correctly on this. It would be impossible to get some hot dish right now?

Okay, that is correct, I'm just making sure.

So, what is it that you do have at this S&M shop? Oh, really... That's interesting... No, no I wouldn't be needing one of those. That sounds awful, in fact.

Maybe some chips? No?


Monday, October 16, 2006

Around the blogosphere

A quick look around at the blogs that affect you.

SmartyCat is pissed off at the Stirb for bias.

Jodi has nothing to blog about. So what does she do? Why, blog of course.

The Girls Who Hates Me gets hit on. Again. I'm beginning to wonder how she dresses in public.

Theological Ninja offers some interesting insights on the Hawaii earthquakes.

Peter had some misfortune with a mattress that apparently he is still angry about.

Democratic Underground is still completely and utterly insane. Think before you vote people. You want these guys to be happy, come November 8th?

Nobody else bothered to update their blogs.

Saturday, October 14, 2006


Right now, I am dominant! My Tigers are in World Series. YAARRRRRGGGHHH!!!! BASEBALLL!!!! TIMELY HITTING!!!!! DESTRUCTION!!!! JIM LEYLAND!!!!!

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Random thought

So, I was reflecting today on my Tigers magnificent run in the ALCS. See, I'm a Detroit sports fanatic. Moving to Minnesota changed nothing, on account of Minnesotans are barely aware that there is such thing as sports, except that they are reflexively leary of whatever a "Packer" may be.

Minnesota is a sad, ironic, latently suicidal state. It is beneath our people to do anything so silly as, you know, support a sports franchise. If you attend, say, a Timberwolves game, you will find that the people sitting around you have gotten their tickets for free, likely found on a street somewhere. We prefer watered down theater that makes us feel smart (see: The Guthrie).

So yeah, I'm a Detroit fan.

Thus, I feel qualified to ask this question. Why the hell does Cincinatti have a baseball team? I mean, let's look at the merits. Cincinatti is the third largest city in Ohio. Ohio, people. Ohio is notable for being indiscernible from Michigan. That's not good.

Of course, Cincinatti is known for other things. The sticom "WKRP" was based out of Cincinatti. Remember that show? No? It had a turkey epsiode once... Still, no? Jerry Springer was the mayor of Cincinatti. Well, that's just a commentary in itself isn't it?

So, how does such a vacuous craphole earn itself a baseball team? Why, be the first damn city to have a team, that's how! Ah yes, the Reds were up and running back in the days of the Troy Trojans. If God chose to end baseball in Troy, why not Cincinatti? God, are you listening?

Still, couldn't the other cities just annex the team? I mean, what is Cincinatti going to do if, say, Portland wants a team?

I mean, I've been to Cincinatti. I was in a bus that stopped there. You don't want that action. Can't they just combine with Cleveland to form one "crapass, USA" team? Other than being a swing state, Ohio has no redeemable features. If the terrorists had flown planes into Akron, the sucking sound you heard would have been the collective yawn of the American populace.

I mean, if we are going to give Cincinatti a team, why not just give Wichita a team? Maybe we should just start an "all craphole towns" division. Perfect. Has Gary, Indiana had a team?

Oh, and thanks for ruining Griffey's career. I happened to like him. Scumbags.

Disturbing Roommate conversation

Leroy: Can you swing by the New Brighton place.
Kevin: Umm… I’m at work but…
Leroy: Yeah, maybe just come by and bring… I dunno, a power washer… Somethin’ like that.
Kevin: I’m getting a bad feeling about this.
Leroy: It’s kind of a biggie.
Kevin: May I ask what happened?
Leroy: Oh, how do I begin?
Kevin: Begin?
Leroy: There’s a mural involved.
Kevin: A mural…
Leroy: I had to free my art.
Kevin: And now it needs to be washed?
Leroy: It’s outside.
Kevin: The mural is outside?
Leroy: I had to free my art in a ventilated area.
Kevin: Is there a mural on our house?
Leroy: You are getting closer to describing the situation now.
Kevin: Okay, so you drew a mural on our mutual investment.
Leroy: This was my intention.
Kevin: Your intention?
Leroy: Once you get outside, all the walls kinda look the same.
Kevin: The same?
Leroy: North facing walls, south facing walls, the neighbors walls.
Kevin: The neighbor's walls?
Leroy: My confusion is understandable.
Kevin: Is there a mural on the neighbor's wall?
Leroy: According to the reports. I can’t make heads or tails of the situation.
Kevin: What did you paint, exactly?
Leroy: Cats, mostly…
Kevin: A cat-related mural?
Leroy: Pretty much cats. Some Chinamen… Chinamen and cats.
Kevin: How diverse. I’ll be there in about twenty.
Leroy: You’re the best.

(20 minutes later)

Kevin: My God.
Leroy: I’ve been studying Gauguin.
Kevin: That would explain the colors.
Leroy: What do you think.
Kevin: When you said you painted cats and Chinamen, I was under the impression you had painted pictures of cats, and pictures of men of Asian descent... This is very, very illegal.
Leroy: Now my art is free!
Kevin: I’m leaving.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Confessions of a Female College Student

OMG, I totally went to lit. class in my pajamas. I'm like, whatever, it's a ten o'clock. I am not showering. Cindy was all like, "just wake up?" and I was like "nurrrr".

That's the new thing me and my friends say. "Nurrrr", it's like "yeah, I'm with you." I don't know how many 'r's are in it, though.

So I got back from class, and weird guy was walking down the sidewalk, eating Erbert and Gerbert's. I'm like, it's 11:15. Who eats lunch now. Then he got on his bicycle, and I'm like, whatev.

Ohhh... My BF left me a note.

"I miss you
you are
my heart on fire
blazes hard
out of control
under your cupcake eyes"

OMG, he is so brilliant. He wants to be a youth pastor, and he is so spiritual...
I brought him into Caribou. I think hot guy was jealous.


Whatver, Cindy get away from my computer! Just cause you're marriage just didn't work out...

Oh, I was so joking. Oh, Cindy don't be like that. Oh my God, I was so joking. You know I support you, girl. He's just like, men, you know... Whatev... It wasn't your fault.

She'll be fine, she just gets all cryee sometimes since B-Rod dumped her for Stephanie 10 days after their wedding.

Well, I have to go. My Politics class is going to the preview of man of the year, and it's worth 50% of my grade. Robin Williams is so hilarious.



Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Wanna get high?

Hey, Derek Jeter, do you get rocked? Do you sauce it up? You wanna get high?

I know. My Detroit Tigers handed your overpaid ass to you this weekend. But that's no reason not to get positively stoned! What could be better than getting fried, watching the Tigers take on the Oakland Athletics, and eating some Dilly bars?

Alright. There's the interest you couldn't be bothered to show for four games. Let's go to my grandma's house, drop some z, lick carpet samples... Maybe dress up the dog... You know, confuse the @#$% out of it? Get nice and jazzed?

Wow, perfect. I am so excited to be getting high with you. What's gonna be nice is that we're doing drugs together. I like the way things are looking. Now hop in my car, you overrated bastard.

Monday, October 09, 2006


So, as part of our "romantic" weekend getaway, Khris and I decided to take a trip to the superfluously-spelled Aamodt's Apple Orchard (way to score the first entry in the phone book guys). What could be more fun and romantic than a whole orchard full of apples?

So we get there, and we discover that this is no ordinary apple orchard. This place is frenzied, man. Maybe they should've named it AARRRGHHHHSNARFSHJNISHJOHNYAPPLESEEDNNNNNHONEYCRISPFAGAAAHHHHHH! Orchard, but that's just me. Now, I have two things working against me, w/r/t enjoying apple orchards.

A) I don't particularly like apples.

B) Other people's screaming kids don't really do it for me either.

Upon our arrival at Aaaamocht's, we are greeted by Jojo, the friendly banjoist. Very apropos, in a Deliverance sort of way. I don't know if his name was Jojo, or if we was friendly, for that matter. Hard to imagine an unfriendly banjo player, though. Not exactly an instrument of malcontents.

Okay, there have to be at least 2.5 million people here. If Canada ever decides to genocide Minnesotans for some reason, they could simply set up a couple of apple orchards. "Be sure to stop by our winery, and breath deeply!". Seriously, this is our NASCAR.

We head out past the general store, to the main attractions themselves, the apple trees. Alright, down to business, let's pick some apples and get the hell out of here. Hmmm. This is odd. You can't pick the apples. Turns out they do it for you. You can find them in the general store, right next to the "what is the ^&%&^% point?" display. It dawns on me that there's a place right by my house where you can also purchase fresh apples that have been picked for you. Some know it as the grocery store. If I ever open a grocery store, I will be sure to call it a "milk, coca-cola and toilet paper orchard".

So, no apple-picking, but, hey, there's a petting zoo. So help me God, a petting zoo. This leads to my favorite moment of the day. A baby goat is sitting in the sun in the corner, lying down, taking a nap or whatev... Suddenly this big goat runs up and charges the other goat. Knocks it into the fence. The baby goat moves from it's nap, and the bigger goat just walks away. I'm glad goats find offense in the relaxation of other goats.

We take a gander at the general stores wares. I notice that there are some homemade soups in mason jars for sale. The soups are priced at $8.75 for 16 ounces. Come again? Did Jimmy Carter become president sometime in the last two hours? Somebody alert the fed. The rate increase are NOT working.

Khris needs to use the rest room. There is one women's restroom, for which the wait is about 2 hours and 45 minute, which coincides with the line for the wine tasting room. I guess that a visit to Aaaaaaamaghts Orchard is enough to drive people to drink. I make this joke to a bystander in line, who, by way of correction, informs me that this winery has won awards. My cynical side thinks "what a blue-ribbon at the Minnesota State Fair?"

The wine-tasting informational sheet proudly announces that wines at this vineyard won the blue ribbion at the INDIANA State Fair. The Apple Orchard is beyond parody. I'll quiet my inner wine snob here, except to agree with the girl who was tasting next to me, who, upon sipping some raspberry tasting nonsense, remarked: "MMMMM! You can hardly tell it's wine." My sentiments exactly.

On the way out, one of the teenage traffic directors holds up our line for 10 minutes for some reason. That about sums it up. So concludes our day at Aaaaaghhhmadfts Apple Emporium, where the orchards smile and the boys are robust.

Friday, October 06, 2006


This year's hottest new toy is out! Is it a Cabbage Patch Kid? No. Is it the new X-Box iteration? No. Another Elmo toy?

Um, yes... Actually it is. I really shouldn't have given you three guesses on that one.

The latest in the vaunted "Tickle Me Elmo" franchise has hit the stores! The curiously named ELMO T.M.X. has hit the stores. As a blogger, I am among the first to receive the new T.M.X. toy. Some of you might be wondering what makes T.M.X. different from the rest of the Elmo toys, so here's a rundown of the latest features.

1. After about 20 seconds of laughing, punches back, and snaps "dude, I told you to @#%$^#$ stop! It's not cool."

2. Automatically generates letters to Star Tribune responding to the latest statement by Michelle Bachmann"

3. Can look into your soul and sense whether the truth is in you.

4. Can make a subpar sponge cake.

5. Doesn't feel respected for his craft.

6. After two months, can learn child's name, habits, fears.

7. Can't be trusted.

8. When fed after midnight, turns into Robin Williams.

9. Will teach your kids the different between a good touch and a bad touch...

10. Now 50% more capable of annoying the living @#$% out of you.

Now go buy it before your kids sense that you don't love them.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Are you gonna eat that?

Are you gonna eat that? Oh... Well, are you finished now, or still working? That's cool. Just looks tasty is all. I know, I have my own dish, but, I mean, are you going to take it as leftovers? Cause otherwise, I might as well go ahead and eat it.

Right, haven't decided? No, that's cool, that's cool. I just. I ordered the scallops and I'm beginning to regret my choice. I mean, how is your butternut squash ravioli? It's good? Yeah, it looks good.


It looks like you're slowing down there. Can, I, can I try a bite? Just, maybe a little bite? Thanks. Oh, that is good. Yep, shoulda gone with that. The scallops are a bit overdone to be honest with you.

So, are you thinking you're probably not going to finish? Like may 60-40 against? I mean, I guess you're not really going to be able to take those home. Not really enough to be worth it. Are you wrapping up, there?

Oh, you are done. That's cool. That's cool. Are you. Do you think I could, just....

What? Whoa! Wait, ma'am, we weren't done with...

Wow, she just walked off with that. I was gonna finish yours. I mean, no biggie. It would've been nice, but. Actually, do you think I could track down the waitress and get her to bring it back? Maybe they'd cook up a little for me, since they...

No, I won't... Probably not worth the extra time...

I wonder if that plate is sitting by the dishwasher or something. Maybe I could go back and grab it... Just, maybe walk back to the kitchen. You think they'd mind? Ah, they probably have some sort of regulation. No big whoop, you know?

So, are you going to finish your martini? You've got a bit left there and... Oh, cool thanks! Just figure, you know. Best to just finish it off.

So, you know, I brought you hear cause I wanted to talk. I think we should be more than just friends.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

An Interview With Mark Foley

As a blogger, I often have the opportunity to interview celebrities and other newsmakers. Today, I am privileged to be the first to interview Rep. Mark Foley since he resigned from the house of representatives after making inappropriate advances toward an underage male page. Without any further adieu, Rep. Foley, welcome to TPWK.

Rep. Foley: Thank you, thank you for having me. Nice blog you have here.

TPWK: Thank you.

Rep. Foley: It reminds me of the Pearl Jam video, where the kid shoots himself.

TPWK: Um... I'll pass your regards to my web designer.

Rep. Foley: At home, drawing pictures. Then, Pow! Blows his freaking brains out in front of everybody.

TPWK: That is how the video turned out, to my recollection, yes.

Rep. Foley: I bet he was real lonely.

TPWK: Probably comes with the territory. Um, shifting gears...

Rep. Foley: Do you ever feel lonely?

TPWK: Um, no.... Now, you have recently come out and said that you were molested by a priest when you were growing up. Now, forgive me, I know this is a serious issue, but you can understand my incredulity.

Rep. Foley: I drink in secret.

TPWK: Um... Yes, so the news reports have shown.

Rep. Foley: Ted Kennedy drinks in secret, too. We both drink in secret.

TPWK: Yes, I think Kennedy's alcohol abuse is well documented.

Rep. Foley: You remember that book he wrote about his dog, Splash?

TPWK: I do recall.

Rep. Foley: Splash likes to drink in secret, too.

TPWK: Fascinating.

Rep. Foley: Would you like to meet splash?

TPWK: You are referring now to the fictional dog, asking if I would like to meet him?

Rep. Foley: He's a little shy, but I have him in my closet. It's my magic closet.

TPWK: I don't think you have a magic closet.

Rep. Foley: Sure I do. That's where I practice my singing. Father Tippenssworth always said I had a wonderful voice.

TPWK: Great, but what I...

Rep. Foley: I'm going to sing now

"I was a lad in love with a lass
atop the pettibone ridge
wonton with sass
and a shim and a shiver
she caught my wayward eye"

That's a beautiful song. Isn't music beautiful?

TPWK: I guess that depends on the circumstance.

Rep. Foley: Father Tippensworth would give me cakes whenever I sang for him. That's why I drink in secret.

TPWK: I'm not gonna delve into that one. Now, of course, some are concerned over the political fallout of this incident, what is your response to those who say Republican leadership should have been more proactive in discerning the details of the case.

Rep. Foley: The House Republicans don't understand. Nobody understands me or my music. I make wonderful music. Daddt never gives attention.... Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo... Oh, isnt' that just a wonderful song. I play it over and over.

TPWK: You certainly seem to have an affinity for the tune.

Rep. Foley: See, when I speak, they'll all listen. Take that Ted Kennedy! Take that Dennis Hastert! All of them, lying on the ground, under my kingdom. I'll be king, and no I won't wear makeup. Not ANYMORE! NO MORE SECRET DRINKING, CAUSE I'LL BE KING! YOU HEAR ME BARACK OBAMA? KING.

TPWK: So senators get to be in your kingdom too, I gather.

Rep. Foley: Will you be my queen?

TPWK: Pardon?

Rep. Foley: We'll sip tea together while they all waste away. Poisoned! Dead! Pow Asa Hutchinson.

TPWK: I think Mr. Hutchinson is no longer in congress.


TPWK: Well, that's all the time we have. I'd like to thank Rep. Foley for stopping by.

Rep. Foley: Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo... WHooaaaaaaa-oohhhhhhhhhhh, yarrrrghghg arrgghhgh Ayayayayayayayayay, yeahahhh. uh-huh....




(puts gun in mouth, pulls trigger)

Monday, October 02, 2006

WFAT- Bamboozled

Continuing my deconstruction of some of the worst films of all time.

Spike Lee’s “Bamboozled” begins with a title screen featuring the definition of the term “satire”. Lee then spends the next 135 minutes misappropriating the genre.

“Bamboozled” is, indeed, a satire. It is a satire that is so contemptuous of its audience that it feels as though it must beat us over the head with the fact that it is a satire. Of course, the film is so contemptuous of its America, that it envisions a scenario in which the masses embrace a minstrel show during primetime (not to mention a snuff films). By comparison, we get off easy.

Damon Wayans plays Pierre Delacroix with a (perplexing and career-ending) white accent. He also has a white sounding name. He also works to impress white people. See what I mean? Oh, and he collects racially exploitive figurines.

Pierre’s works in the television industry. His boss (Michael Rappaport) thinks the shows Pierre produces are too white (even though they feature black actors). He wants something more black.

So Mr. Delacroix decides to give his boss what he wants. He hires two street performers (played by Tommy Davidson and Savion Glover) to perform a minstrel show. In black face. The show hits the air, and generates no end of controversy. It also turns about to be a giant hit.

And this is where the film errs. I’m not sure any film about black face could really be funny, or make a point with any degree of subtlety. The execution of the show is awful, playing upon the old minstrel gags verbatim without adding any nuance or depth that might explain why audiences would find it funny.

The film devolves further into an absurd terrorist subplot, in which a militant black power group determines to kill Savion Glover’s character on live television. This is, I think an act of desperation, an attempt to bring the movie to a contrived climax. Meanwhile, Pierre faces some tough decisions about how he has represented his race that are resolved unconvincingly.

Lee is making a commentary about society’s refusal to take black people seriously. And that’s just what it is, a commentary. He is saying it, rather than showing it. The best satire is within a hair’s breath of reality. It is subtle. Nothing about blackface is subtle.

As a drama (and the film seems to give up on its comedic elements about half way through) the film inherently fails. Nobody would embrace blackface in any context, so any sense of real dramatic tension is rendered void by this sledgehammer. To compare any modern black comedy to minstrel shows is a satirical equivalent of argumentum ad Hitlerum.

I watched this film at my college, and recall discussing it with my friends. They excoriated me for disliking it, not because they could point to any concrete reason why it was a good movie, but for the “ideas” it brought up. They insinuated that, with my conservative ideals, I probably couldn’t understand the film, as though the film were rife with difficult nuances.

But films cannot be judged on the quality of their ideas. Anyone can make a film with good ideas. If Spike Lee wanted to take aim at Gangsta Rap and In Living Color, he should have done just that. But he didn’t. Instead, he made this piece of crap.

Spike Lee is a bold, angry director. He has made some truly excellent films. “Do The Right Thing” is a masterpiece. But rage makes for lousy satire. And this is some pretty damn lousy satire.