Archive for the ‘Listed’ Category

2012-82: The December That Isn’t, Yet

Tuesday, December 4th, 2012

!st
Snowboardering

At least we didn’t have to break out the lighter fluid. I don’t know if that shit happens in other places, or if it’s just some Tyrone’s Basement anomaly. But it happens every year.

By late March, the local ski-knoll has rags and jugs of lighter fluid for anyone to use at the bottom of the hill. You see, the snow is melting down, and half of it is artificial anyway, so the snow filthy. That filth collects on your base and after two or three runs it’s like trying to ride on Velcro hook-and-loop fabrics. The lighter fluid strips the filth from your base, and I’m pretty sure it destroys the base as well.

And people do this with complete disregard for the amount of lighter fluid being dumped directly on the ground, their gear, and their exposed skin. Sheeeit. In oh-six I saw a dude, trying to light a cig, go up in flames after using this method. Everyone just let him burn down to ash.

Rulezizrulez and we were trying to grasp the last gasps of winter.

But none of that happened this weekend. Even though it was pushing 50 degrees on Saturday. It also rained. A lot. We still rode. Even tried a few tricks. Then we stood in the rain and drank parking lot beers. Fuck man, it was near perfect. Sure the entire knoll wasn’t even open yet, and there were only a few rails, one jump and the light was flat as that girl you dated in college when you were on that “boobs don’t matter” bender. And it was nearly a downpour. None of that mattered. It was still snowboarding.  It was rad.

Also, at the risk of shayboarderism: I was kept very dry by to my Holden Durden pants and my super old AK Gore-Tex XCR coat.  Thanks to those companies for making good products. But Holden, maybe you guys could work on making buttons that stay on the garments for longer than 25 minutes.

 @nd
Social Medium

There is something wonderful about this tweet:

GingSTEELE is enetz radness for sure. Part-shred mama. Full-time mama. Pretty stoked she’s back on the tweets. Buttfuck, get with that tweet. That thing is heavy. The story she is telling is way bigger than 140 characters.  The language is great. Such suspense—WILL SHE BE ABLE TO DO IT? I’m gonna read that tweet like 30 more times.

That NdGT tweet above GingSTEELE’s is solid as well.

#rd
I’m a Writer

You guys remember when I got a degree in Creative Writing? You guys remember when I got wait-listed at the University of Arkansas-Fayetteville and rejected from a grip of other top graduate schools in the country?

Yeah, those were good times.

But now, after all those years of fretting over unrecognized genius, self aggrandizing bloggery, and realignment of life dreams, Simon & Schuster has decided to enter the game of self-publishing.

I don’t want to brag, but I’m about to become one of the most prolific writers of 2013. You should probably plan on buying such future classics as:

  • Ten Days to Financial Dependency
  • Teddy Roosevelt: An Autobiography
  • After the Aftermath: The Story of How America Forgot About Dre
  • On The Road II
  • Pagan Wood and the New Europe: The Forests of the American Upper Midwest as a Apt Simulacrum of Colonial New England and The Relations to Darkness
  • Dinosaurs: The Book of Dinosaurs
  • Land of The Rising Sun: Teaching Your Preteen Children About Extreme Porno
  • Milkfist
  • Mamma Mia: The Best of My 2012 Olive Garden Fan Fiction
  • On The Road III

I’ll let you know when that shit hits JeffBezos.com

2012-57: What Snowboarding Is, and A Friday Lister

Friday, June 29th, 2012

One: Business Up Front

I spend as much time as anyone running my mouth about what is and isn’t snowboarding or Snowboarding. It’s whiny and superficial and ultimately all pointless, but it’s what I know. It’s something I can talk about, that’s all.

But then I read this today:

Beyond the riding, Nelson was quite simply one of the nicest guys I have ever met in my life. People always say things like that after a death of course, but in Nelly’s case I honestly don’t know anyone that didn’t love him to bits. How could you not? He was friendly, funny, loyal and above all humble. While he now rode with the elite, he never forgot his original seasonaire buddies; there just was not an arrogant bone in his body. Years later, when I got this job at Whitelines, I was lucky enough to hook up with Nelson on magazine trips to Kashmir, Mt Baker and Canada, and he remained as smiley and positive as ever.

It’s from Ed Blomfield at Whitelines Mag . You can and should read the whole article here.

I never met Nelson Pratt, and I’ve never met Ed, but this is pretty much MY snowboarding. You can replace Nelson’s name with just about anyone I ride with. Sure, exacts change but sentiments hold true.

Now, I’m too old for this snowboarding game. I’m awkward and out of place and all I can really hope is that Brooke throws me a free Yobeat hat every so often. But the people I’ve met because of snowboarding, the people I get to ride with on the regular, and people I’m itching to ride with, make up some of the purest, most honest, driven and entertaining people I know. It’s so much of what makes every day out there memorable. And even the days spent with these people, far from any rideable terrain, tend to break towards greatness.

Rarely do the on-snow memories involve the sickest lines, or do the stories compare to those laid down in magazines. But that’s the really great thing about memories, Ed’s memories are no bigger than mine, and mine are no larger then his. They are all perfectly sized for snowboarding and that is fucking massive.

Regards go out to Ed, The Whitelines Crew and everyone in the UK snow scene. It sounds like you guys lost a good one.

I think I’m getting closer to figuring out what snowboarding is.

I only have like 3 friends with whom I can’t talk snowboarderism.

Dos: Party in the Rear

List of Lists for June 29, 2012
• Possible Trivia Categories
• Bike Tools Needed
• Things I Need For The New Pad
• Kinds of Marijuana I Really Don’t Like
• Good Belated Mother’s Day Gifts
• Tigers
• Asians I Know (Revised 6-17-12)
• Public Places I Have Slept
• Haircuts and Other Things Not Covered By Obamacare
• A Zombie’s Grocery List
• Good Containers For Burying Money and Filth Mags
• Pros and Cons of Trucks vs SUVs
• Pros and Cons of Pad Thai
• Words That Are Funnier When Combined With The Word Milk
• People I Suspect of Treason
• Where Did I Put My Wallet

2012-44: Enetz Olden Days

Thursday, April 26th, 2012

If you’re like me, and I don’t think many of you are, you’ve been on thesenetz for a long ass time. And you’ve probably rolled through a few different email addresses? Shit, I think the only thing that has changed more in the past 15 years has been my physical address. That is just part of being on the run from the law. My only crimes: Crushing dreams and breaking hearts.

But, I’ve tried to remember some of my finer email addresses.  Today I’m gonna give you some of my faves:

• jizmak_junior@hotmail.com
• Bowiefan69@yahoo.com
• greg@lowcountrystuds.com
• gmail@msn.com
• info@altavista.net (So much junk mail. I also passed on so much misleading information from this one)
• at-at@mac.com
• lionkingfan96@nambla.org
• jon54@aol.com (Still use this one when i have to sign up for some enetz crap)
• straitAs@goddard.edu (Classic Goddard!)
• 4700@wisc.edu
• arielsBF@next.co.uk (no really, I was dating a mamajama named Ariel)
• fuckyoupayme@beenz.com
• thisonlyworksifyoutypethisshitincooperblack@cnet.net

I don’t know which of these are still up and running. Feel free shoot a message to any of them, but know that I’m not checking them. I threw those keys out long ago.

2012-21: White Snow Black Metal

Friday, March 2nd, 2012

1rd

As I do so often lately, I found myself talking about black metal with GooseFeather yesterday. We were sharing a chat-sesh and watching Satyricon videos. From there, we began discussing the bandmember Frost, which is a supa-metal metal name.

Then we started creating our own metal names. I guess he wants to been known professionally as Goosepocalypse, which is legit. I have my 2012 metal names reduced down to:
• Death Strider
• RealFakeBlood
• Abort! Abort! Abort!
• Octopodes
• Lacerator
• Rick Santorum
• Flesh Bellows
• Draeg Scotter
Milk Money
• Bloodangel
• Mulch
• Ligature
• Unending Closure
• Doyen Specula
• Mustelidae Martes Martes
• When I was Six I Had a Pet Goat Who Spoke To Me and Taught Me the Ways of The Ancient Ones And Told Me To Gut Him and Use His Entrails as a Scarf Because the Coming Winter Was to be The Coldest the Earth Has Ever SEEEEEEEEEEEEEN, or just Six Goat Scarf for short.

Vote early and vote often on this one.

2th
I’m trying so hard to not acquire tee shirts lately. But it’s tough when this gets released:

And big thanks to jhamlett for ordering this for me.

Which brings me to the next item. How do I pronounce jhamlett? If I’m going to reference the dude, I should know how to say his name. So, do I call him Jam-let, or is it Jaamlet? I like the second option, because it sounds like Omelet. Also, this pronunciation and the spelling of his name give him a slight Indian (subcontinent, not first people) tweak.

Makes him more mysterious. Like “Fuck dude, if there is anything I have learned from pop culture, it’s that the Punjabi are not to fucked with.”

3st
Perpendicular recumbent rickshaw shitshow

4nd

Bike pants!
I want the Levi’s commuter pants because I love communting or something. Don’t believe me? Check out Rhys Hastings bloggery.

Your Costume Sucks

Thursday, October 27th, 2011

Late nighting this jawn. But it’s important to be, you know, bloggin’.

So anyway, I stopped at Boswell Books to pick up my copy of 1Q84 and of course I had to put on a good show. So I was properly pressed, wearing a wool driving coat and a matching scarf and gloves set. Oh sure it was like 50 degrees, but i needed to make a statement. I needed to be literary. So I dashed into the bookstore and and looked around frantically (one literary point for me), saw the book and darted towards it. I picked a copy and fondled it for a bit (another literary point) and walked to the register.

The sexless glob behind the counter picked up my book and and said “This is such a great book” (1 literary point).

OH! Now who the fuck is this? Trying to out-literary-cockstrut me? THIS SHIT IS ON, MOTHERFUCKER!

“Yeah he’s a great writer (1 point), I’m so glad this book has finally been released here, in the US (bonus), I read an excerpt from it in the New Yorker (DOUBLE BONUSES!).”

Suck it counterbeast! Go back to your 20-oz Mountain Dew and your virginia ham Lunchables.

And it was just like that. I flopped it out and measured all ten inches of my literary dick. The ink sniffing, money taker was certainly defeated.

“We got one advance copy here, and I’m almost to page 700.”

WTF? Thou wuzzist not ready for that shit indeed. So picked it up my book, flopped the meat back over the barbed wire and walked out.

I lost, boys. I lost.

Double Down

I got this lady in my life. She’s pretty much the closest thing I have sister. We’ll call her Yella. So Yella’s son “The Hache” just got himself a skateboard. Dude’s on it young, 6-years old-ish.

I swear to god, if that kid ends up skating mongo he’s out of the fucking will.

Triple shot Thursday

It’s Halloween weekend and you’re probably still looking for a costume. I know I am. I’ve always wanted to go as Oscar the Grouch. Full on, with Bruno carrying my ass around in a can. Such a costume is some serious work, so I’ve never done it. That, and the logistics of peeing are mind bokkling.

Whatever, here are my suggestions for you this year.

  • Brian Wilson (San Francisco Giant)
  • Brian Wilson (Eugene Landy Puppet)
  • Girl in a poodle skirt
  • Guy in a tuxedo shirt
  • Dabney Hiscock (Early 2oth century British porn star)
  • Keyes and Hayek (Economists, companion required, and you better learn the raps)
  • Gert Mallets (Early 2oth century British queen of anal)
  • Dong Frowley (Early 2oth century British porn star, aka Come On Your Face Michael; half asian)
  • Paddy Munch (Early 2oth century British  porn star of Irish decent)
  • A canoe
  • Kate and Julia Morkan (Sisters, elderly porn tag-team queens in early 20th century Ireland. These bitches hosted some killer orgies, especially around Christmas; companion required)
  • Clive Nutts (Early 2oth century British autofellatio master)
  • Rumorator (Fatsuit, kimono, cigarettes)
  • Harold Plundercunt (Early 2oth century British bookkeeper, amateur porn director)
  • Frank London (Early 2oth century British pornstar, only did guy on guy on guy work)
  • Moai
  • Moishe Oofnik
  • Clara Analman (Early 2oth century British porn star, she once blew like 40 vicars in one hour)
  • Maneki Neko Case (Figure it out)
  • Lenehan Milkbreath (Early 2oth century British porn star, rumored to have 27 literary centimeters)

List of List

Monday, May 30th, 2011

Lists I’m currently keeping:

  • Things I keep in my socks
  • Names for businesses near airports
  • Colors I can’t really see very well
  • Potential Halloween costumes
  • Asians I know
  • 50 ways to leave a Paul Simon concert
  • Things I would sleep on
  • Places I have found my keys
  • Albums I should have never bought
  • Classic AIDS jokes
  • Proper names for a Doberman
  • Pros and cons of yogurt
  • Classic paleontologists jokes
  • Letters of the alphabet
  • Numbers
  • Blog names that would have been better than Rumorator

I Don’t Talk to Strangers, But They Talk to Me

Monday, April 11th, 2011

The following is a list of things said to me by random strangers as of late

  • If you really loved America, you’d give me a couple dollars.
  • You look like you might be up for a fight. Come with us.
  • Hey baby, you ever suck a white man’s dick? (this may have been addressed to the girl walking ahead of me.)
  • Oh now you’re gonna walk?
  • Fuck You.
  • Fuck you, asshole.
  • Go fuck yourself.
  • Get fucked.
  • I will piss on your leg, mother fucker.
  • Take your ass back to Showbiz pizza with that act.
  • Really? People over 16 still do that?
  • Where’s Canada?
  • You’re kind of an asshole.
  • How did you know we were here on Earth?
  • I mean, it’s a good size.
  • Fuck off.
  • Shamrock Shakes? It aint even Easter.
  • Oh, who the fuck are you Rahm Emanuel?
  • I will throw a fucking brick at your head.
  • You mean you’re not gay?
  • License and registration please.
  • You owe me the souls of seven virgins.
  • Oh! Fuck this guy.
  • Did you just fart?
  • Sir, can you please put your shirt back on and take your seat.

Fat Tuesday

Tuesday, March 8th, 2011

A Report From The World Health Organization

I’m starting to believe Wisconsin’s Governor and official corporate pawn, Scooter Walker, may have planted rogue agents among the protesters. Agents to spread illness around. How do I know this? It’s because everyone who has been involved is ending up with Rally Hack. Frankly, my throat feels like shit.

Last night I was doing some at-home remedying/witchcraft and whatever came out of my nose and throat tasted like a farm. Believe it. I’ve been to farm. Shit was farmy.

Part 2.

Catholics fire up their Lenten studies tomorrow. And you’ll know who these cats are because they will either talk to you about what they are giving up for lent, or, for the ones who are way into it, they’ll have some ash rubbed on their faces. That’s some leftover pagan meets Apocalypse Now style for sure.

But yeah, it’s all about what they are giving up. Sometimes they’re like “I’m giving up pizza, or sodas, or doughnuts.” Pssht. Why don’t you try something a bit more demanding? Spend your 40 days and 40 nights not being such an asshole. Or “I’m going to try to stop nodding when I stare at the boobs of the girl who pours my cappuccinos.” Make some real sacrifices here cafflicks.

Forget it. A few years ago, I gave up listening to people talk about their silly Lenten give-ups. That was only a few years after I gave up their god. But if you’re still on that train, I’ve compiled a list of things you might want to consider giving up this Lenten season.

  • Spend forty days making sure there is left directional use with that left turn.
  • Quit telling me you zeach and tindy to be ironic.
  • Give up being smoke-free. ¡es hora de fumar!
  • Quit crying.
  • Stop oppressing.
  • Stop snitchin’.
  • Stop closing the door to bathroom stalls. Jesus bonus if you leave the door to the greater bathroom open as well.
  • Please stop playing that Mumford and Sons song.
  • Stop Facebook liking things that are impossible to like. You cannot honestly like punch cards, self check-outs, or one dollar bills.
  • Stop holding out girl.
  • Start stunting.
  • If you sit near me, you could consider trying to stop talking to me.
  • Stop the war on workers
  • Stop hiding, stop hiding, stop hiding your face.

You’ve got a few hours left before the no fun starts. Go rip it up.

The Valentine’s Betterment Program

Thursday, February 10th, 2011

I gotta get this out today for a few reasons. Valentine’s day is fast approaching and the more time you have to prepare the better, also Thursday is a great day for lists, and no one reads blogs on Fridays anyway.

So I took the time out of my busy schedule of reading Craigslist Missed Connections to wisdom bomb all you would-be Valentiners. Valentines Day means different things to everyone. Some people are looking for the love of their life to surprise them, other people are thinking “maybe I’ll push for a three-way with her roommate tonight,” and still others will just be playing Call of Duty. But whatever your plans may be, here are some tips for an even better Valentine’s.

  • Wearing an Aaron Rodgers jersey is a bad move. Wearing a Ben Roethlisberger one is an even worse move.
  • Start working out this weekend so you can brag about your routine.
  • Shower.
  • Even though you’re both guilty of it, don’t mention to your date that you’ve been stalking their moves on Facebook for the past three weeks.
  • Gentlemen, remember the Extra Optical Inch. Ladies, Telly Savalas.
  • Get your sex soundtrack set up. Kick it off with Fugazi’s Repeater album. If your date isn’t down with it, you’re not  down with them.
  • The two-dates-in-one-restaurant routine never works. Better Option: A quickie in the mop-room with the hostess or busboy.
  • KY His & Hers. Trust me I know.
  • Keep your dinner costs down with crystal meth, aka the Auburn Appetizer, aka Minnesota Slim Fast, aka the Shakesweight.
  • The number one Valentine’s Day movie is Dumplings.
  • Scope out a few tumblr accounts. If your dated isn’t as deadfucksexy as the people tumblr-ers repost, you should probably just stay home.

Enjoy!

The Water Closet

Wednesday, January 19th, 2011

I hoped it would never come to this. I was certain we, as a people, were beyond it. But here we are, getting a gentlemanly refresher on bathroom etiquette.

I’m not talking about simply washing your hands. Yet a lot of dudes still haven’t seen the rulebook on that one either.  That hand washing knowledge is out there, so now let’s build on it. Make sure you’re shutting off the water while you’re lathering your hands. This isn’t Torontario. The water isn’t free until everyone is.

So lets get into it

10 Tips to Proper Men’s Room Etiquette

  • Always take the taller urinal. I never trust a man who opts for the lower urinal. And please don’t drop some line about dong length. If you really were hung like that you’d be in gay pornos. Seriously.
  • Don’t bring your coffee into the men’s room unless you want me to pee in it
  • Whenst going in to drop some wolfbait, and faced with the option of several stalls, take the one closest to the door or urinals. Letting any other restroom users wallow in the smell of your hot shit is a fucking key power play. If you can, finish your session, and step out the great the people you just dominated.
  • If you’re having trouble peeing, sing this song to yourself:

    This is my personal jumpstart song, but you can borrow it.

  • Never be afraid to piss on another man’s shoes.
  • If there is a divider between the urinals and both are full, be sure to apologize to the other uriner for the missed opportunity to look at your penis. Then stare down at your own peen and shake your head in approval.
  • As CLK once taught us, a men’s room is a place of openness and trust. It is completely acceptable to remove your shirt.
  • That handicapped stall is for retards. For real. It is.
  • If someone chooses to use the men’s room to talk on the phone, it is completely acceptable to make super loud, gratuitous fart noises.
  • If you’re ever thinking to yourself, “Is this guy a bathroom attendant,” He probably isn’t. No matter how long he stands around watching you, do not accept a breath mint on the way out.