tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6348978589576047832024-03-12T18:42:26.804-07:00The Soggy BananaYet another blog that no one readsBrandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-82428894693293723962010-12-16T14:15:00.000-08:002010-12-16T14:20:34.917-08:00NickelhackThe Nickelhack you always knew was coming is now here. Enjoy:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFsQ-5vnzYTEpkvtyrAajXyKlwA_uzoxoWBthanSK85ydb4sQoOjV-YAY58i15YtKeIsZL-sOsJxQ_yOwEJdPrqVk585q4Ls0lAttTK7YABANlJAQX6FK_McRzLLImlqXAAsMeeOoI4M/s1600/Nickelhackgammon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFsQ-5vnzYTEpkvtyrAajXyKlwA_uzoxoWBthanSK85ydb4sQoOjV-YAY58i15YtKeIsZL-sOsJxQ_yOwEJdPrqVk585q4Ls0lAttTK7YABANlJAQX6FK_McRzLLImlqXAAsMeeOoI4M/s320/Nickelhackgammon.jpg" width="254" /></a></div>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-27024753380640719782010-01-04T20:58:00.000-08:002010-01-04T21:00:21.471-08:00New PostThis is a new post because I haven't updated this blog in months. I like to stay lame and <a href="http://www.halolz.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/freshprince-of-persia.jpg">fresh</a>.Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-10487510666731064702009-04-05T19:46:00.000-07:002009-04-21T00:50:15.793-07:00Stay Classic Seattle (featuring disfan1)Whilst taking a <a href="http://www.cdva.ca.gov/Homes/DocsAndImages/Photos/ChulaVista/old%20couple.JPG">power stroll </a>with T-Han and Carly B-Real in the greater Green Lake area, I beheld a most inquisitive sight. This inquisitive sight led me to some thinking. This thinking led me to a 20 minute nap. The small amount of <a href="http://www.productwiki.com/upload/images/5_hour_energy_shot-400-400.jpg">energy</a> gained from that 20 minute nap led me to writing this post. Writing this post will lead me to another 20 minute nap. See? Naps are <a href="http://www.gactech.net/funny/bike.jpg">cyclical</a>. <div><br /></div><div>At first, the sight appeared to be a jumbled heap of khaki and <a href="http://epguides.com/UnsolvedMysteries/cast.jpg">mystery</a>. On closer inspection, the tan-accented streak blurring by wasn't a streak at all. It was a human being. But not just any human being. It was an older-gentleman-with-a-thick-white-beard-sporting-a-collage-of-taupe-based-clothing-items (jacket, pants, socks, visor beanie, etc.) while-riding-a-<a href="http://www.flemart.com/razor.jpg">Razor</a>-scooter type human being. His hood was pitched over his head, clinging on for dear life to an extremely large pair of blue blocker sunglasses. He jerkily pumped his stout legs, rambling by cyclists and people that were walk-dating. "That's pretty normal," I thought to myself out loud. But then I looked closer - at the man's feet, and there they were:</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjivimG89SuKh3zIP51bea_SMBylEMUWJTXcWJjxOCpMIgHgD1-erAw7E6edpM8DAKGMhJF5ljlh3ti9T3utgv6ePOLm0epzrY0Pymm0Ybzubx4O5eeI6i8V8-2XZ56sBfhFNIW5levNQ/s320/3395alc_20.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321398810825471650" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Oh baby. That's right. Kirkland Signature Court Classic Sneakers. You can pick up a pair of these comfort <a href="http://i250.photobucket.com/albums/gg241/RMaaax/inserts%20RC%20reg/olajuwon.jpg">rockets</a> at your local Costco Wholesale for about 15-20 bucks. </div><div><br /></div><div>You've seen these shoes countless times in countless places on countless people. This leads to a vital question: Have you ever seen someone brandishing these "weapons of fast construction" who ISN'T over/around the age of 50? My <a href="http://www.fatpockets.jp/wp-content/uploads/GUESS_JEANS5_1.jpg">GUESS</a> is that you haven't. My THEORY is that when you approach the age of 50 and have proven yourself worthy of ultimate economical coziness, you'll simply wake to a pair of K. Sig Court C's gently tied around your feet. They'll just be there. And there's nothing you can do to not have them. You'll try to fight them off, but in time you'll grow to admire their seamless comfort and bland Barbara Bush-like looks. <a href="http://www.trekfrontier.com/ImmDatabase/Razze/Borg/borg_baby.jpg">Resistance is futile</a>. To help prove my point please enjoy disfan1's earth-shattering review of the K. Sig Court C's: </div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><div><object width="'328'" height="'320'"><param name="'movie'" value="'http://www.expotv.com/video/embed/154111'"><param name="'wmode'" value="'transparent'"><embed src="'http://www.expotv.com/video/embed/154111'" type="'application/x-shockwave-flash'" wmode="'transparent'" width="'328'" height="'320'"></embed></object><br />See all <a href="http://www.blogger.com/'http://www.expotv.com/Shoes/c69'">Shoes reviews</a> at Expotv</div></span><br /></div><div><br /></div>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-24713836193599782112009-04-02T12:14:00.000-07:002009-04-08T10:05:55.033-07:00Divin' In<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.donherron.com/images/dive_bar_2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 480px; height: 640px;" src="http://www.donherron.com/images/dive_bar_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><div>So last night I was out with the <a href="http://www.seaspot.com/spotlight/image/bikerboy-275.jpg">boyz</a> hittin' up some merry hour at the 5 Spot. I suggested a <a href="http://i47.photobucket.com/albums/f189/dantiques2/games/box/3/a/3167box.jpg">new game</a> that has since swept kick the nation 'neath the ankles: developing fictitious names for dive bars. Here's the <a href="http://www.beyondchron.org/news/news_images/martinshort.jpg">short</a>list from last night:</div><div><br /></div><div>The Dirty Scoundral<div>Grundle's</div><div>The Stinky Saddle<br /></div><div>Old Friendly's </div><div>Jake the Snake's</div><div>The Pumphouse</div><div>The Snug Pocket</div><div>The Thirsty Turtle</div><div>The Sink</div><div>The Reservation</div><div>Sketchies</div><div>Tipsy McDrunks</div><div>The Trombone</div><div>Key Arena</div><div><br /></div><div>Updated names from viewers:</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Fartbangers</div><div>Straddleback's</div></div><div>The John McEnroe</div><div>Qwerty's</div><div>Sinkin Sally</div><div>Sticky Pete's</div><div>Derf Langer's</div><div>The Screaming Midget</div><div><br /></div><div>The list is getting more and more amazing. Thank you Christopher, Les, and Travis.</div><div><br /></div><div>This game is very rich. Feel very free to leave your dive bar names in the comment <a href="http://ruthlessreviews.com/pics2/funnyfarm1.jpg">section</a>. Or don't. Now that you've had some more time to think about it you probably <a href="http://www.banjarahills.com/videos/downloads/funnyitem.jpg">should</a>.<br /></div></div>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-61965874487470742262009-03-22T18:49:00.000-07:002009-04-21T00:49:39.184-07:00Hungry like the wolvesYou may not believe me, but 5 days out of the week, I do <a href="http://robertlbryant.com/gaming/carts/battletoads_cart.jpg">battle</a>. Public transportation battle. And believe me, it's one of the most intense types of battling you can do. You don't believe me, do you? Well believe what I write next then re-read the first sentence and believe. Believe me, it's <a href="http://www.algebra.com/~ichudov/images/colorado/unbelievable.jpg">unbelievable</a>.<div> <div>It all starts when I hop on the #13 bus every morn to travel to my respective <a href="http://z.about.com/d/golosangeles/1/5/g/2/-/-/KMD06CirqueduSoleilQuidam_365x.jpg">career</a>. The ride is always relatively quiet and uneventful. Passengers get on and take their seats, using every ounce of their social stamina to avoid smiling or making eye contact. They cough and read, and the bus jerkily rumbles on. It all works like a clock that is working really well. That is, until we get to <a href="http://www.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=3rd+and+bell,+Seattle,+Wa&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=37.819897,77.080078&ie=UTF8&z=16&iwloc=addr&layer=c&cbll=47.614762,-122.344782&panoid=w66s-iw3kMdvIFBrPRX9iw&cbp=12,101.80159635119726,,0,12.696693272519951">3rd and Bell</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>As you all know, when a bus reaches a stop, the customary line of action is to allow passengers to get off FIRST, then have waiting passengers get ON. 3rd and <a href="http://www.newviewgraphics.com/mascots/s_taco.gif">Bell</a>, however, does things a little differently. When the bus driver yells aloud "Next stop, 3rd and <a href="http://www.bell-lodge.co.nz/images/bell-logo.jpg">Bell</a>!" I make fists with my hands and grit my teeth. I perch on my tagged bus seat in the same way Michael Johnson did on his starting blocks at the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta, Georgia. When the bus stops and those side doors slide open, it's battle time. </div><div><br /></div><div>I explode out of my chair and hit the top of the steps, only to be greeted by a sea of expressionless faces clawing their way towards the small crevice of hope that just folded open. They stare up and begin to <a href="http://www.rhoadeslawoffice.com/Transformers/Battle2/snarl.jpg">snarl</a>. I take a deep breath and begin to cut a swath through the pack of lumbering souls who thirst only for the inexplicable comfort of a recently vacated tagged bus seat: </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPENCtYaDALU3sN461rBWbYk4EO_cSXOIlysjRzPvgSV6phuvKSdse20XLBtNFQsMeF1a5Ifvl3ZCdZnmdoiG6YGJFgvvtglaXp5GRAaTlh-u9wW5An4fGCyqd2WgBF43YMIcDCQtGMkU/s320/IRS.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The neatly dressed accountant with fancy <a href="http://www.sportsbuy.com/images/scans/407014.jpg">glove</a>s and a rolled up <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">New Yorker</span> poses no threat - we exchange small push blows and steely stares before I leave him behind. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 375px;" src="http://i33.tinypic.com/m9mye0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Next up is the pink-haired, Hello Kitty-backpack-wearing, disenchanted teenager who skipped school to go to Hot Topic downtown and <a href="http://www.mortalkombatonline.com/content/games/mk3/smoke/bio.gif">smoke</a> a cigarette. She poses a much more dangerous threat, never looking up from the display screen of her pink 2 GB iPod Nano. We shoulder tackle each other, but her extremely light weight coupled with the laws of kinetic force shift her to the side. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 272px;" src="http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/sw1mush/images/thumb/4/4f/Alien_snp_jawa.jpg/260px-Alien_snp_jawa.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, I find myself standing before the final obstacle between myself and the crisp refreshing air of freedom. This mysterious vagabond is wearing a hooded jacket over several layers of sweat pant material and a heather gray 1996 Seattle Supersonics Western Conference Champions t-shirt. He's unphased by my quick movements, choosing to simply stand in the way and stare at me with glossed-over eyes and a slightly opened mouth. Lucky for me, he's decided to use the hand rails to stabilize himself. I quickly dart underneath his arm, finding myself immediately surrounded by the <a href="http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r51/leftygenius/For_the_Horde_.jpg">Horde</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>They pay no attention to me, their <a href="http://www.gilroydispatch.com/content/img/f168072/suspect.jpg">eyes fixated</a> on their final destination. Their <a href="http://www.idesign4u.com/gallery/images/COLLECTIVE%20SOUL%20LOGO.jpg">collective</a> shuffling turns my situation into a football push pad drill. After several shoves and reroutes (and a few expletives), I break free and discover open sidewalk. I bend over to catch my breath.</div><div><br /></div><div>This morning, I've won the battle. But there is no time to celebrate. Another battle awaits somewhere around 5:00PM. </div></div>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-6913725131961898312009-03-08T23:28:00.000-07:002009-03-12T09:24:34.965-07:00Cirque du Kinda Juggling<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicA4IljG5dNkd89Fgy7XWC8L7pazH0-ZFHdCFZ2JEWy5Dc5wJsfd8tmcDpqFXCaTDSlm32f4AoSLtXR6Fe2fZOvcdxepUgN00IR9K-Z8anSvLsVQXg9Pzq7MQKHO6GUnVS0L51XA_KWd0/s1600-h/juggler.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicA4IljG5dNkd89Fgy7XWC8L7pazH0-ZFHdCFZ2JEWy5Dc5wJsfd8tmcDpqFXCaTDSlm32f4AoSLtXR6Fe2fZOvcdxepUgN00IR9K-Z8anSvLsVQXg9Pzq7MQKHO6GUnVS0L51XA_KWd0/s320/juggler.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310984882355037618" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Do you remember where you kinda learned how to juggle? Because I remember where you kinda learned. You kinda learned to juggle where everyone kinda learns: <a href="http://www.wvah.com/programs/thirdrock/frenchstewart.jpg">3rd</a> Grade Physical Education class. </span></div><div><br /></div><div>If I remember correctly, you still remember that day as if it were yesterday. It was the day that your high-wire dreams of circus performance as a lucrative profession came crashing down to the safety net-less ground of reality, shattering both knee caps and a C7 vertebrae. Let me re<a href="http://images.wikia.com/muppet/images/thumb/7/76/The_Count's_Countdown_(CD).jpeg/300px-The_Count's_Countdown_(CD).jpeg">count</a> it for you. 1,2,3,4,5. Now let me retell it for you (I think I can still remember):</div><div> </div><div>Your class entered the gym (single file of course). Normally there was some sort of equipment laid out on the floor that provided an ever-so-subtle hint as to what you were doing that day (basketballs for Basketball, jump ropes for Jumpy Rope, paint <a href="http://www.lost45.com/images/baycityrollers.jpg">rollers</a> for Parking Lot Paint Time, etc.). But on that day, there were just two large cardboard boxes in the center of the gym. "Whoa dude," said a classmate, "I wonder what's in those boxes." </div><div><br /></div><div>"I dunno," you <a href="http://www.mugshots.com/IMAGES/Mugshot__clay.jpg">cooly</a> replied, "but I hope whatever is in them is cowabunga." </div><div><br /></div><div>Your gym teacher sat your class down and explained that you would be learning a new game, called "juggling." She <a href="http://ruaarnold.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/buddha4501.jpg">enlightened</a> you on the general mechanics, opened the first box, and pulled forth what you would later call the <a href="http://www.untoldentertainment.com/blog/img/2008_06_22/struthers.jpg">Great Deceiver</a>: colored handkerchiefs.</div><div><br /></div><div>She passed out three colored handkerchiefs to each person (You got Magenta, Cyan, and Fatigue). You tossed up the first handkerchief, then the second, then the third. Then you caught and threw back up the first handkerchief. A wry smile came to your face and your eyes widened. </div><div><br /></div><div>"OMG," you thought to yourself, "I'm totally <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">JUGGLING</span>." Suddenly thoughts of <a href="http://store.socaljetboats.com/images/Shirt_Layout.JPG">big tops</a> and dating a clown person named Borpo began racing through your mind. But before those thoughts could cross the finish line, the gym teacher opened the second box, and with it, absolute <a href="http://www.unicron.us/tf1985/figures/devastator1.jpg">devastation</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tennis balls. Fun, innocent looking tennis balls. 3 were issued to each student. It only took 7.5 seconds with the tennis balls to realize that you'd never be a professional juggler. Broken-hearted, you threw your tennis balls at the student next to you and walked a walk of sorrow and disappointment. "Screw this, I'm going to get a square pizza from the cafeteria."</div><div><br /></div><div>And that's kinda exactly how you kinda learned to juggle. <a href="http://www.keytoenid.com/images/pizza.jpg">Kinda</a>. </div>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-87261240779519282222009-02-12T15:49:00.001-08:002009-02-20T09:36:42.725-08:00Defection<div>I must <a href="http://www.jpbutler.com/new-zealand/images/shearer-and-terrified-sheep.jpg">sheep</a>ishly confess that a few months ago I fell victim to the <a href="http://www.chrisabraham.com/mom-jeans.jpg">Trendy Monster</a> and got a euro-mullet-esque haircut. For the first month or so it was smooth and correct, sipping fine <a href="http://www.mozel.ru/_images/459.jpg">wines</a> and occasionally visiting the discotheque. It was a shining example of class with a colorful flare of international accouterment. As it grew, however, I discovered some behavioral changes. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It started ordering Bud Light rather than <a href="http://www.aric-dacia.com/dcu/omegared.jpg">vodka</a> tonics. Instead of frequenting the local pub to watch Liverpool vs. <a href="http://www.foreignpolicy.com/images/090113_Chelsea.jpg">Chelsea</a> games it signed up for a 14-team fantasy football league on Yahoo.com. It traded in it's super tight capri jeans for some <a href="http://ussruchamkin.org/db5/00465/ussruchamkin.org/_uimages/JoeBurdetteandhisKodakBrownie-datedSept1954.jpg">Old Navy</a> carpenters with paint on them. Nascar-branded hats were the only type of headwear it would accept. One evening, when it was very late, I woke up to my euro-mullet quietly weeping while watching <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">Glory</span> on TNT. </div><div><br /></div><div>That's when I knew the <a href="http://kojisama.anberu.com/images/Al%20Gore.jpg">incovenient truth</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>My haircut had defected.</div><div><br /></div><div>No longer was it a swanky, hip and trendy, <a href="http://b.1asphost.com/Drewsta16/deuce_bigalow_european_gigolo.jpg">sophisticated</a> euro-mullet. No sir. It had become a gun-totin', Bible-thumpin, right-wing Ameri-mullet. In a matter of weeks it had managed to brave the waters of the Atlantic Ocean into the open arms of <a href="http://zbookz.com/catalog/images/images/BarbaraBushBarbaraBush7_f.jpg">Lady Liberty</a> without my notice. Just now I went to scratch the back of my head and my hand returned with two wrestling tickets to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">WWE No Way Out</span> at Key Arena. I could get used to <a href="http://rock103.com/pages/crew/pics/weirdfamily.jpg">this</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEeEEQxbsm3qIZqcypIgbZ-_tZpmzZDPgydfazOdC0L-_WWU5DkShSgG_3XObxIcQs06-CMwrTC99osNJ3erGEmo5xw8QjmnqZjQ830Z4_XT_yvHF5zW6yIS0pL7Xa0NpwRbX_DvtzIBo/s320/lemanmullet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303975412165058322" /><br /></div><div>This is me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not really. But I do have that tie. </div><div><br /></div><div>Not really.</div>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-22285261369461618612009-01-15T23:19:00.000-08:002009-01-20T10:39:19.184-08:00Beavis Shoes<div>So I was at the gym, doing my normal <a href="http://www.oddtodd.com/head11.jpg">exercise</a> routine (Mondays are usually neck and right forearm), when a strange and wonderful occurrence graced my presence. As I performed my last neck push up, I noticed a shadowy figure shift into the room. It was shrouded in a cloud of heather gray sweat material and grasped an old FILA gym bag closely to its shapeless form with what appeared to be a small bundle of Jimmy Dean sausages (turns out it was just a <a href="http://www.getcrafty.com/userfiles/jupitercrash/fullimages/IMG_0955_1_1.JPG">hand</a>). As it glided to the corner of the gym, it shedded it's cotton exoskeleton, revealing a short, plump man with a mustache that would make a walrus swoon. I went back to my exercising. As I was looking down during a rather intense single arm military press, the gentleman's feet came into my field of vision. My eyes widened and my heart skipped two beats. </div><div><br /></div>Beavis Shoes. It was Beavis Shoes. <div><br /></div><div>If you're not privy to this awesome <a href="http://gangstarecovery.files.wordpress.com/2008/01/phenomenon.jpg">phenomenon</a>, it's ok. It's pretty rare. But it DOES happen. Let's talk about it:</div><div><br /></div><div>As you all know, Beavis is one half of the comically deranged animated duo <span class="Apple-style-span" style="">Beavis and Butthead</span> (of the MTV fame). Here's a photo:</div><div><br /></div><div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg742FkQZr5mLhYmfTPygSDNrabGICJ4ezM8eeRzZmSVD0QRmNLLjniW6t1xy5mmmUYCkt-lIJwejgu_KJuWS-f_a6vwIgZlsaSOBvEyX3LHdnuZZZNSpjZtJbSiKDP0C_1wZvm43w2w2Y/s320/beavis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293245722834179698" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Wait, that's a real person. Ah, here he is:</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_CnWncbyg4d0DgrJZGtM-sMZnY2ldfdnJ7UdxKsOlqGkZCplb3rkOdLHAqGTXDtC6omUZCN_V3rpL38iYIWIpoq6mnG89q84LSWtyJBtjoWRsx1LHfoOFxfHWG03uonXp1-o9tcditk/s320/1116566219_beavis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293246378432397746" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways, Beavis was animated in a unique way. Check it out:</div><div><br /></div><div> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWtQAG0QwidIBTbtAMz0abbQ2JIr-JLa6Knzsy5JWR-kXMx6Mdgj9-QUa0wu4N3QQlvZWLkljE9D-fbYlTNwVG-nvyBNbXM6wCLh5HSRNHgqmCF8lRVTU_Vb9pQavF8o8T6hNnQUDQOCY/s320/beavis_and_butthead.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293251530154994786" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Do you see it? Do you? Look <a href="http://www.channel6.ie/tv/closer_the/1197023329maincloserthe.jpg">closer</a>:</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 269px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijSG5NhqoKUE7BMCIaXEcbWzmOhTouwtV5wwL7Wkb1KPP-cHBorBQVSg1sTe1qAv_idaHr51aUjdCOcVK2OceZd8F7-gVkqxVGJV1COG-uexHb4attbQWVD_cQvp0mbcUMppOlvzfsy9s/s320/beavis_and_butthead2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293252305778470834" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>SWEET BETTY BOOP AND HELLO KITTY...Beavis Shoes. Essentially Beavis Shoes happens when an individual decides to wear small, nondescript black Reebok shoes (aka leather socks) combined with a comfortable pair of mid-shin white socks. <a href="http://www.math.chalmers.se/~olleh/a-beautiful-mind-3.jpg">Beautiful</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-16815650173963859502008-12-18T22:23:00.000-08:002009-01-14T12:41:49.458-08:00Small hand, or a large throat?"Would you rather have a really small hand or an obnoxiously large throat?" <div><br /></div><div>You'll probably have a definitive answer by the time you finish reading this sentence, but hold on. I mean it. Stop for a sec. <div><br /></div><div>I think if you really consider this necessary question for any considerable amount of time, your decision will get significantly harder. Now you're rethinking your answer and don't want to make a decision yet. Me neither. The only possible way to do this is to go over the pros and cons of each:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Really Small Hand</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><img src="http://neodiem.com/img/handsbigsmall.jpg" /><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Pros:</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Small fist inflicts concentrated pain</div><div><br /></div><div>Pressing more than a single button on any type of keypad = non-issue</div><div><br /></div><div>Kid-sized gloves/baseball mitts/mittens cost less</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Miniature</span> knuckles hard to hit during game of Quarters</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Cons:</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Hand can be easily crushed doing everyday activities such as giving a handshake or saluting</div><div><br /></div><div>Impossible to grab certain objects securely (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ie</span></span> youth-sized football or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><a href="http://i33.photobucket.com/albums/d64/bleedingthru187/logos/yoohoo.jpg"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">YooHoo</span></a></span> beverage)</div><div><br /></div><div>Limited hand strength results in loss of ability to clutch/grasp</div><div><br /></div><div>Hand signals such as thumbs up or "hang loose" <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">indistinguishable</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Obnoxiously Large Throat</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><img src="http://www.emedmag.com/images/DX1003.jpg" /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Pros:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>Extra mass of throat acts like reserve food basin</div><div><br /></div><div>Throat can be used as <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">miniature</span> TV tray, holding 2-3 pizza rolls easily</div><div><br /></div><div>Fills out a turtle neck or <a href="http://www.auroradancewear.co.uk/acatalog/bastia-detail.gif">turtle neck <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">unishort</span> </a><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">divinely</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Can be used to deliver a discreet punishing blow (aka throat-butt)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Cons:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>Heavy protrusion can make talking/attracting the opposite sex difficult</div><div><br /></div><div>Singing voice is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">permanent</span> Sub-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Bassitone</span></span> (a new sound pitch category created for people with obnoxiously large throats)</div><div><br /></div><div>Shaving is considered a suicide attempt</div><div><br /></div><div>Can be easily choked by a t-shirt or small child</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Hmmmmm</span></span>. I'm gonna go with the really small hand. Just the thought of doing several quick karate chops in rapid succession with pinpoint accuracy makes my soul <a href="http://www.unc.edu/~winget/images/sam/sam2.jpg">smile</a>. </div></div>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-46907803048937144812008-10-28T12:04:00.000-07:002008-10-28T12:25:38.807-07:00I think I have Leprosy...I'm sick. Really sick. It seems as though Crappiness himself entered my body overnight. What a <a href="http://media1.break.com/dnet/media/2008/1/10jan9-hotag-and-d-bag.jpg">D-Bag</a>. By the time I woke I found myself transformed into a snot-induced <a href="http://digilander.libero.it/BluSimo/zombie.gif">zombie</a>. Seriously. I feel terrible. If I sneezed right now my bones would probably shatter. My nose whistles when I breathe. Is that "Oh Suzanna?"<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwBzXNeI9s6C7bAu40irX-1VJgiy7x-pcJPyNBhvA1eKlK3ImkP9U5L1_T3u_YobEepSuiYvZSFmJXdfjfmZd3JS928CilSVqsvgQrzPUbwE55F0IySfQKIWmNTcKt9aCPal4CYvmr8jc/s1600-h/s2_ep10_betty_white_400x304.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwBzXNeI9s6C7bAu40irX-1VJgiy7x-pcJPyNBhvA1eKlK3ImkP9U5L1_T3u_YobEepSuiYvZSFmJXdfjfmZd3JS928CilSVqsvgQrzPUbwE55F0IySfQKIWmNTcKt9aCPal4CYvmr8jc/s320/s2_ep10_betty_white_400x304.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262287627627080258" border="0" /></a>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-65291849944590444972008-09-27T18:13:00.001-07:002008-09-27T19:35:12.634-07:00You Have the Right to be Punched in the FaceThis last week was a special one...why? Because I achieved a life goal. While filling my tires up at a local gas station, I suddenly (and quite unexpectadly) gained a new title. Along with being a man, brother, son, and avid listener of Johnny Cougar Mellencamp (or "<a href="http://mixonline.com/mag/JCougar.gif">JCM</a>" to his closest fans), I became a sole witness of a resisting arrest charge. That's right. My dream of being a sole witness to something came true. <br /><br />Here's how it (along with the suspect) went down: <br /><br />So while I'm fillin' up my tires I noticed a police cruiser parked next to my car. After making this astute observation my attention was diverted by some audible commotion. I peered across the parking lot and noticed an older Vietnamese gentleman (we'll call him Alejandro) and a cop (we'll call him Punchy) throwing down verbal fisticuffs. Alejandro was wearing a ragged heather gray Seattle University sweatshirt and seemed to be in a state of drug-induced rage/bewilderment. Punchy had a shaved head and cougar <a href="http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j306/apowell1/CougarTattoo1-08.jpg">tattoo</a> on his forearm. After their disagreement, Punchy proceeded to take Alejandro to his cruiser. About halfway to the car, Alejandro decided that he didn't want to go any further and pushed Punchy away from him.<br /><br />Bad move Alejandro. <br /><br />Punchy thought about the situation for about .0123 seconds, then proceeded to grab Alejandro's arm and karate flip him onto the pavement below (which didn't seem to be that difficult as Alejandro had the physical stature of a female Asian gymnast). After this, Punchy mounted Alejandro, wound up, and punched him SQUARE IN THE FACE. <br /><br />Before I could try to begin to understand what was happening 76 police cruisers, a firetruck, and 2 ambulances showed up. Apparently Punchy felt the need to call in backup against the <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/95985539@N00/216734890">menacing</a> Alejandro. <br /><br />I didn't really know what to do so I just stood there and stared. During my staring episode, a woman (we'll call her Arresty) in street clothes and a bullet proof vest ran over to me.<br /><br />"Did you see what happened?"<br /><br />"I think so. Yeah."<br /><br />"Come with me, we need to get a full statement from you. You're a sole witness."<br /><br />My heart jumped with anxious excitement. <span style="font-style: italic;">I'm a sole witness. F yeah.<br /><br /></span>I was rushed over to a waiting police officer (we'll call him Writey)<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>and Arresty proceeded to jump into her car and eat some <a href="http://static.flickr.com/35/66325761_1cfdec6b50.jpg">McDonalds</a>. Writey got my info and asked me about what I saw. When I spoke about Punchy punching Alejandro in the face he stared at me blankly.<br /><br />"Ok Mr. Hillard (it's Hilliard), I think we got everything."<br /><br />"Did you write down that the cop punched the suspect in the face?"<br /><br />"Yeah, we just put that down under detainment."<br /><br />"So you didn't write that down?"<br /><br />"Not word for word."<br /><br />"Isn't punching someone in the face after they're incapacitated excessive force?"<br /><br />"No. It's detainment."<br /><br />"Oh, ok."<br /><br />"Can you sign this stating that this is your words and your words alone?"Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-15317779206505175292008-08-31T23:28:00.001-07:002008-09-01T01:31:38.539-07:00Confessions of a Peyton Manning ForeheadI have a confession to make. I've been trying to keep this secret safe for a long time, but after years of living neck deep in denial I can't take it anymore. I have to tell someone. And that someone is you, cyberspace...<br /><br />I have a Peyton Manning forehead. You heard me. A huge, sky-scraping, Peyton Manning forehead. In case you don't know who <a href="http://ihavenet.com/images/Eli-Manning-Super-Bowl-XLII-MVP.jpg">Peyton Manning</a> is, he's the most biggest and bestest football quarterback in Colts history. He also has a forehead the size of several Great lakes. Here's a picture of Peyton and his obnoxiously large drive-in movie theater noggin:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_71lnxci-DAI9hAR3Su_VvnY9F5l1X7o2EWLnj6QZJhHWvtepbSWDv42o9IzPFsd1oAtUaFZ9fuEyelbmRGKS_qjJNRrMJa8KMxMxTFFTr8_gVgzg2qrXk5kDc0g-MDdiqeAw6zDm54/s1600-h/ManningPeytonFootball+4+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_71lnxci-DAI9hAR3Su_VvnY9F5l1X7o2EWLnj6QZJhHWvtepbSWDv42o9IzPFsd1oAtUaFZ9fuEyelbmRGKS_qjJNRrMJa8KMxMxTFFTr8_gVgzg2qrXk5kDc0g-MDdiqeAw6zDm54/s320/ManningPeytonFootball+4+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240967518623622722" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Man look at that thing. It's so big that I can't handle it. I've tried to cover up my Peyton Manning forehead with shaggy hair and bowl cuts in the past, but they've done very little to stop it's protruding ways. It's like the top of my head de-evolved a couple thousand years without my permission. I've always been self-conscious of it but it also gives me a small amount of pride. Why? Because a bi-product of this genetic marvel is the ability to give a pretty devastating head-butt. I take comfort in the fact that if it ever comes down to fisticuffs my opponent will receive a face full of dome before they even notice how freakishly large it is. The <a href="http://www.geocities.com/theactionkingsb/Cliffhanger.gif">overhanging brow</a> of my cascading cranium also provides much needed shade for my sensitive eyes. Is my forehead disproportionately large? Yes. Do I feel a little embarrassed special ordering XL hats? Yes. Will it save my life someday? Probably.Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-53942865553248270812008-08-23T09:46:00.000-07:002009-01-17T16:10:01.288-08:00Scot-FreeWhen I was waiting for the #26 bus this morning, I felt a tightening in my stomach...so I went through my mental check list. No <a href="http://www.uk.pg.com/images/peptoBismolPack_IL.jpg">nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, or diarrhea</a>...it was something else. After my initial research I deduced that it was a fart. And not just any fart. By the speed at which my stomach tightened (along with the fact that I ate <a href="http://cache.consumerist.com/assets/resources/2006/11/wendys2-thumb.jpg">Wendys</a> the night before) I knew it was going to be a hot, meaty, putrid fart. A ghastly air biscuit who's smell would be on par with a really old zombie dying then taking a dump after it died. I looked around the bus stop. The gentle roar of passing traffic provided noise cancellation and a stiff tailwind was ready to steer my rancid bottom burp into no man's land. Conditions were ideal. I smiled a little as it came out. Sweet guilt-free freedom.Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634897858957604783.post-49279391817323980352008-08-21T15:49:00.000-07:002008-08-21T23:40:52.243-07:00Win the day, or Rue it?Will this blog be a winner, a <a href="http://www.clevelandfed.org/Research/Economists/champ/Champ_Bruce_fullsize.jpg">champ</a>, a <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">contender? Will it win the day and receive praise along with a pack of <a href="http://www.spanishfork.org/newsevents/events/fiestadays/img/truth_logo.gif">American Spirits</a>? Probably not...but a blog can dream can't it? A dream blog is a god-given right. A right to BE right...or is it write? </span>Brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09908207620598707100noreply@blogger.com0