Holy Crap, I'm Famous - or - Devilmas Is For The Children

Have a whorey, gory Devilmas.

I might have just started a new heterosexual long distance relationship with a schizophrenic zombie enthusiast. Take a look.



So, I am now beaming while prancing around my tiny apartment in this tiny leather studded thong. It's like a hair and leather tornado in a here. I think I just made myself gag. Happy Devilmas.

Links.
Krumbine on YouTube
The Origins of Devilmas
Krumbine's Website
Misspacman08's take on the responsibilities, moral actions, and the true purpose of the Devil. Noodle scratcher.

Retribution And Condemnation - or - Hello, My Name Is Heathen

This video is made entirely out of synthesized awesome from American made, Japan owned factories in NewBraska, which happens to be in U.S. occupied Iraq. The second video is purely vanity.

Hello world. Here's to the good stuff. I went to a preachers house for Christmas diner and felt closer to perfection than I ever have, mostly because I was seated next to the preacher's mother and had the honor of pouring her a glass, or two, of red wine.


This movie is twisted. Mr Bungle seems to have that effect on people.


Find the humor. It's there, I swear. I love you?

Failure Is Not An Option, It’s A Website – or – These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things

I lost my job, I worked all day Christmas Eve, I didn’t go home for the holidays, and it looks like my Christmas dinner is going to be a veggie burger, granola, and glass of bourbon. I needed a pick me up. Christmas morning my parents and I talked about politics and conspiracies, my brother and I talked about unemployment and lost friendships, and my high school girlfriend and I talked about how my personal misery and financial despair will make for some great blog topics. I can only respond to these three conversations by saying, “Is this what my life has intimately boiled down to?” The answer is no, of course not. There is a lot more to me than that. My life also includes laughing at other people’s failures. Laugh with me, people. It makes this downward spiral seem more like a carnival ride when people all around you are screaming along.

Brought to you by failblog.org.



<



































Thanks to Sam for pointing me towards on-line failure. Sam is a smokin' Blues singer from Boston, recently moved to Saratoga Springs. Check her out at samanthawhitehouse.com

From all of us at Obsquatch.blogspot.com,
Merry Christmas
Happy Holidays
Go Fuck Yourself

Potibul Quotables - or - Where Did All These Fires Come From?

Two days ago, I got laid off from the Greenhouse. Yesterday, I became deathly ill and am currently on the hunt for a vampire to bite me so I will never get this sick again. Today, I am wrapped up in plaid flannels and puffy fleece like an inflatable redneck burrito. It reminds me of nothing, so here are some interesting quotes from people you probably don’t know unless one of them is you, and if that is so, see what kind of profound effect you’ve have on my life?

"Bring a bunch of freezer zip-loc bags to the 'Employee Appreciation Lunch,' and just stock up for the next few months of unemployment."

“I wake up every day wondering what the hell I am doing in upstate friggin New York;
can this possibly be my life? I pretend to look for a job every day, because there aren't any. I'm looking for a new band and working on some original tunes, and I'm also waiting for my acceptance letter from UAlbany. But what am I DOING here? That's a long story… It involves an upset ex-girlfriend, a judge and a probation officer”

“As much as I try not to admit it, I’m really good at being stood up as I am currently out on a date with nobody. Drinking alone has lost it’s allure, that’s if it ever had any allure in the first place, which it totally does even though I won’t admit that either.”

“I’m sitting in my toilet room”

“No one has put so much time into saying so little over the course of so many opportunities, and done it with such grace and style as Phil Collins. He is truly my hero.”

“We need to rewrite the Ten Commandments. First off, Don’t Be Nervous. Secondly, Don’t Be Creepy. I’m going to hold off on the other eight, as I’m going through these kinda quickly.”

David: Dude when we invented armpitting, we changed the world.
me: Is that where all those fires came from?
David: Probably
me: Im gonna quote you on that, just so you know
David: Good! The world is ready!

“God damn the whole fucking world, and everyone in it but you, Carlotta.”
-The dying words of W.C. Fields, his wife’s name was Harriet.

When One Door Slams Shut, Two More Open In The Woods Where Nobody Can Hear Them - or - Stick To Text, But Try Adding A Period Once In A While

There are times you know when something is a fad and you follow along becase you get swept up in what you think is a good idea, and for a week or two you feel really good about being part of something bigger than yourself, where there is this whole community of idiots scrapping and clawing their way over one another to get your attention for a three second to five minute blast of self indulgence, but then, suddenly, finally, self consciousness kicks in and you noticed that this completely false community of strangers and carpetbaggers have collectively pulled down their emoticon pants and taken a crap in an on-line paper bag with your name on it, and after lighting this bag on i-fire, they leave said bag on your e-front porch and ring your IM-doorbell and snicker and laugh from the inter-bushes while you get www.crap all over your boots.com, and I believe that facebook is responsible for a huge percentage of internet-bassed, flamming crap bags right now, but know this, you should understand that I’ve felt this way about facebook for quite sometime and was so happy with myself for not ever taking part in it, but if the truth must be told, and if there is one thing that happens on this blaaaaaahg, then the truth is told, so if the truth must be told again, then I’ve seen this false community rear it’s pointless head in two completely different, yet almost indistinguishable similar forms; ie, myspace and friendster, so I was especially pissed at myself for stepping on the http://flaming.paper/bag.com that the entirety of youtube dropped on my front porch, that nest of godless douche pumps, so hold on tight, kids... It's time for yet another failure in the online life of Obsquatch, alas, but all that being said, I still chuckle at a few choice moments of the videos I’ve made where I tap into some kind of humor that I would consider universally funny to people with brains, and I feel proud when someone gives me 5 out of 5 stars, and I think that I know funny youtubers and am selective enought with my "favorites" and subscriptions that I am keeping my end of the bargain as a member of team awesome, and I still want that cute actress in California that I’ve never talked to and will probably never meet, to ask me to move into her levitating, earthquake-proof castle made of grilled cheese and (un)funyuns, and help spend her family’s fortune as insanely as possible, but maybe something better is in the stars and complete lack of stars for me (as it is impossible to see the stars from where I am) because regardless of the things I liked about making videos and the people who watched them, I think I am done making video for a while, and there is a good reason for this, which is the fact that the last video I made was of me going over my poor decisions at the grocery store and only after I realized that 1)nobody gives a rats booty about how many hot dogs I can buy at once, and 2) this information is neither interesting or funny, in the least, did I stop myself and say, “let it drown, Obsquatch. Let it drown,” due to the undeniable truth in knowing that there is something universally more classy (if not also classic (in the least classic way possible (because there is nothing classic about writing a blaaaaahhhhhhg (or classy for that matter (but I seem to have gotten off topic (which is something I should be professionally sponsored to do (which makes me wonder what kind of product would sponsor someone who goes off topic constantly))))))) about blogging rather than vlogging (both of which are terms that I despise).

Witness the death of my wit. Fair warning.

A Heartfelt Story Of Freedom, Family, and Wine - or - "Oh My God, You're My Totally Fuckin' Like Favorite..."

If you don’t know your past, how can you prepare for your future? With booze, that’s how.


I think this 5 part series of Drunk History is simply brilliant.

Baking Bread Never Needed Such A High Blood Alcohol Level - or - I'm Feeling Kneedy

Yes, this was a weeknight. Yes, that's a lot of drinks for not a lot of bread. Yes, I got a little cross eyed by the end. Yes, it was all very tasty, even the bread. Yes, you can have my liver when I'm done with it, but I don't think you'll really want it. Yes, I have more hats. Yes, that dress makes your butt look big. Yes, I know the Second Annual Sketchy Mustache Competition is over. Yes, I know I still haven't sent Shawn his prize for winning said Sketchy Mustache Competition. Yes, that makes me a douche pump. Yes, I know there is no such thing as a douche pump in the actual world of douching. Yes, I've been called a douche pump before. Yes, I am still friends with that person. Yes, he does like the new GnFnR album. Yes, I'm way off topic. Yes, I am a yes man.

Yes!

My Own Personal Financial Crisis – or – Your Call Is Being Rerouted To The Land Of Wrath.

I try to call my folks every once in a while. This is what they had to say to me this weekend when I called them.
“Your call has been redirected to sprint customer finance services, please do not hang up.”
“Hi Mom! It’s me, Obsquatch. You sound weird, are you alright?”
“To make a payment to apply to your over limit or past due balance, please hold.”
“How are things in the frozen Tundra of Vermont. I really miss it; the snow, the mountains, my old friends, and of course you and pops.”
“An immediate payment that satisfies your over limit or past due account may instantly reconnect service.”
“I’m having a good time here in Chicago as winter sets in. I like the cold, but I think I’m the only person who does. Oh yeah, thanks for that bread recipe; I make my own bread now. I’m trying to get back east for Christmas or New Years.”
“Para espanol, empuje el numero cinco…”
“I gotta run. Say hi to pops for me. Thanks Mom!”

So, I haven’t paid the bill in a little while. Whoops. In all actuality, it’s kind of nice not being able to call anyone. I can still get calls, I just can’t call anyone back. And I can’t check my voice mail, or get text messages, or send text messages, or play World Of Warcraft: Cellphone Edition, which I didn’t anyway. Having a phone that only works when you don’t use it is like wearing a muzzle… on vibrate.

In other news, the Seven Deadly Sins Project has started the downward spiral of despair and self-loathing that all my little projects seem to end up doing. The reason this is happening is because I have a serious problem with the “Christmas Spirit,” mostly because I think it is pure and utter bullshit. Most religious historians admit that Jesus wasn’t born on Christmas day, or anywhere near this time of year, or, for that matter, in a manger, or in front of three kings, or under a big glowing star. Most of the Dec 25th stuff is a Christian adaptation and combination of Roman (Attis), Greek (Dionysus), and Persian (Mithra) Pagan elements, all of which focus around the winter solstice. Attis was born from a virgin mother, that almond loving slut, and Dionysus was the divine son of Zeus, at least one of the eighty (he can also turn water into wine, among other parlor tricks), and Mithra’s birth was witnessed by shepherds and gift-bearing Magi. So it looks to me like lil’ baby Jesus was nothing but a faker, a liar, a copycat, at best a celestial plagiarist. And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna cut down a perfectly happy pine tree, cover it with popcorn, knick-knacks, patty-whacks, brick-a-brack and chocolate-covered pretzels, and think of it as some kind of birthday alter to a religious identity thief. Not in this dojo, mofo.

But Jesus’ obsession with stealing other children of God’s SS#’s is not why I don’t like Chirstmas, and it’s not the contrived, mass-capitalism that has gripped our nation, causing things like “Black Friday” and “The Christmas Effect.” It’s the fucking music. I am forced to listen to “The Holiday Light” radio station at the greenhouse. This causes massive amount of wrath to bubble up inside of me. It eventually spills out in sporadic fits of frothing madness. So, although not having paid my cell phone bill did cause me bouts of envy and greed, my wrath count has skyrocketed due to my dictated work soundtrack. Instead of giving you a list of the Seven Deadly Sins, I am going to provide you with a list of the most played Christmas songs over the course of an eight hour day.
Let It Snow – IV
The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year – VIII
O, Silent Night – XI (mostly Bocelli and Josh Groban)
On The First Noel – V
Jingle Bell Rock – III
All I Want For Christmas Is You – VII
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas – VII
Little Drummer Boy – IV

Each time any of these songs makes it’s way to my ear drums, I feel like ripping the speakers out of the wall, setting them on fire, chanting some demonic incantation, ripping all my clothes off, and throwing myself into the fish pond. But remember that this is just a log of one day of the radio observation. We’ve been piping in “holiday music” for a week now, so if I add all these bits of rage together for the week, the numbers start looking like this.

Lust – 27
Wrath – 289
Gluttony – 11
Greed – 3
Pride – 29
Envy – 13
Sloth – 22

Thank god that Linus and Lucy is considered “Christmas Music.”

Losing My Mind, Just In Time For The Hollidays - or - Sketchy Snowmen Talk To Me In My Dreams

Music by:
Faith No More - Jizzlobber from Angel Dust ©1992
Mr. Bungle - Ars Moriendi from California ©1999

Sons Of Susan Get Lost In Inertia - or - My, What A Nice Van You Have

Today, Chicago got its first snowfall. It didn’t stick around very long, but it never does. It was peaceful and beautiful and quiet and the whole of Chicago seemed to slow down and say, “Hey, I know that the next five months are going to be hell on Earth, but that’s kinda pretty.” It reminded me that I still haven’t written about the wedding that marked the end of the warm weather and the beginning of the cold weather. So without further ado, here is a recap of a part of Ryan and Hadley’s wedding as I remembered it a few days after the fact. Unfortunately for Ryan and Hadley, this part of their wedding has absolutely nothing to do with their wedding, but more to do with how I got there.

October 25th, 2008
Holy crap. Where to begin. I guess I have to make a list because lists are the best way for me to remember what actually happened while also aiding in the construction, demolition, embalment and the eventual resurrection of a time line of events that I don’t exactly remember, but have proof of their happening.

8am – woke up after 4 hours of sleep to meet Caroline for coffee
8:30am – Meet Alan in big white van that smells of beer, butt and Neitchz.
8:31am – Alan, Caroline and I wait for Mike in a parking lot at which point I cue up Surfin’ Bird by the Trashmen on the van stereo.
8:32am – Madness takes over as the volume knob on the borrowed van is cranked up in a way that would make nipples want to fall off and become sustenance farmers.
8:33am – Surfin’ Bird is dubbed the official song of the next 48 hours. Parking lot dance party / conniption fit ensues, onlookers take interest but do not interfere. Overcast skies, slight drizzle, light winds from the west, 85% chance of awesome.

8:34 – Everybody’s heard about the bird.
8:35 – Mike loads gear into van while Surfin’ Bird is declared the best song in the galaxy.
8:38am – Alan, and his new huge orange tinted sunglasses that fit over your normal glasses which have peripheral lenses in the ear pieces so you can see your ear hair growing, and also which come with a convenient clip that attaches to your sun visor so you don’t have to look for where you stashed them on your last road trip or last week’s visit to the old country buffet, gained a new persona. Van Guy VanDriver. When we would pass another van, he would say things like, “Hey, nice van, I have a van, too,” and, “My van has the power window / power locks / powerless passenger upgrade. What do you think about that, other van guy?”
9:30am – Picked up Freddie. Also picked up a rented digital P.A. system that I still haven’t paid for. With the successful assembly of 5 of 6 of the Sons Of Susan in a van, which was packed to the gills with equipment, instruments, and an exorbitant amount of clothing for one overnight trip, we headed to Michigan to play a wedding for our musician / alcoholic friend, Ryan. He was marrying his sweetheart and partner in crime, Hadley. In a world of darkness, sadness, and deadly sin, they are truly made of awesome. They are beacons of love and bacons of hope in a loveless world of single, bass playing people named Obsquatch.
10:00am – Overcast, drizzling, 70% chance of pointless arguments and tasteless humor.
10:01am – Obsquatch notes that, “the world truly needs more truly mad scientists like Nicola Tesla.” Discussion of Tesla’s positive vs. negative effect on the world followed including a discussion on whether or not he was responsible for an explosion that destroyed five hundred thousand square acres of land in Siberia in 1908, or it was aliens. The point was not brought up that Tesla might have been an alien, which would make both Van Guy VanDriver and me right.
10:27am – Freddie’s Jokes Are Horrible. Thus begins the “Every Bit Of Humor That Escapes Freddie’s Mouth Is Hilarious And Terrible” chronicles, or E.B.O.H.T.E.F.M.I.H.A.T.. Part 1 – “Why does Michael Jackson like twenty-eight year olds? Because there are twenty of them.”
10:32am – Groaning continues.
10:43am – The van that Van Guy VanDriver is driving at breakneck speeds, is equipped with XFM which is just like the real radio but a lot more expensive so that you don’t have commercials to cue you when to change the station. We began to play the radio game, where you get one point for being the first person in the Van of Terror to name the tune and one point for naming the band.
10:44am – Got sick of playing the radio game.
11:03am – EBOHTEFMIHAT Part 2 – "Liberace was great on piano but he sucked on organ."
11:15am – Everyone is happily forced to wear Van Guy VanDrivers Sunglasses. A photo was taken but because we were going so fast, time and space bent around us and the image is slightly altered. The sheer levels of awesome that were prevalent in the Cosmic Van of Radness also effected the photo.

11:20am – Van Guy VanDriver mentions, “my phone is so smart, it knows when we cross a time zone and automatically switches back an hour.”
Obsquatch responds, “That may be smart, but in a Terminator way because it just wants you to age faster and die off so that it can spend your hard earned money on internet porn.”
Van Guy – “My phone is so smart that it knows that you don’t ever need to spend a dime to get internet porn.”
Obsquatch – “Every phone knows that, but your phone is such a dork, I saw it playing Magic The Gathering in the high school cafeteria.”
Van Guy – “Nooooooo! Why, smart phone? Don’t you know that’s social suicide?”
12:30pm – Partly cloudy, windy, 90% chance of crappy food and indigestion.
12:31pm – We are burger KINGS!

I had a Burger King Veggie Burger with Chicken Fries, a truly confusing mix of vegetarian and carnivore fair. I also think I went back for a second burger called “Death by Bacon.”
12:35pm – In my mind, I renamed my second burger “Regrets by Bacon,” and relinquished control of my window to Van Guy.
1:07pm – Caroline suddenly shouts out, “I’m getting sick and tired or all these mother fucking snakes in this mother fucking van!”
1:45pm – I invented game I call Existential Rochambeau. Caroline and I got really good at it. It is just like paper-scissors-rock, except you make up what ever you want to use besides paper, or scissors, or rock because those three things always loose. The winner must me unanimously agreed upon which was easy when it was “Mushroom Cloud vs. Carebears” and "Van Guy VanDriver vs. Bad Pirate Impersonation" but got tricky at “Darth Vader vs. T-rex” and “Robot Dancing vs. Origami” and even harder at “Pez vs. Queen.” To clarify, it turned out to be all the Pez and all the Pez dispensers in the world vs. Queen and the legacy they left on Earth. Initially, Queen was declared the winner of this epic battle, but after mulitple appeals and numerous long distance phone calls, Pez eventually won. It was a long and arduous battle involving multiple member of my family and the, up to this point, totally forgotten 6th member of the band.
2:26pm – Van Guy VanDriver goes 87mph in a borrowed van that was given to us under the condition that we keep in around 65. The seat belts in the back do not work and I became a Christian, Muslim, Jew, Buddhist, and Shaker all at once just to make sure I got one of them right in case the van suddenly transformed into a sub-sonic flaming ball of death.
2:34pm – Van Guy VanDriver pulls into our hotel and we meet up with the 6th Son of Susan, who was dearly missed during this road trip. The wedding is hours away and showers are needed, but before debriefing, this photo is snapped and the madness is frozen in time, forever.

Biff! Ka-Pow! Zap! - or - Bat Ladder Away

The 80’s Just Got Even More Rad – or – This Guy’s Gonna Get An Ass Full Of Pipe Wrench

I know when I've found genius at work, and the person who remade these confusing 80's videos by replacing the lyrics of the tune with what is actually happening in the video is right up there on the genius chart. Just above "angry boxer turned super happy toaster spokesman" and right below the inventor of Chia Pet.




I crack up just thinking that someone had to storyboard the original videos at one point. I know that musicians are up for just about anything, especially when they were all super coked up in the 80’s, but just imagine some video director saying to you, “Ok, you’re gonna fly around a library following a librarian that will tweak your nose in front of a string quartet while the guitar player makes out with this chimp which should distract the viewers from that black guy kicking the crap outta the Jew in the Periodicals section.”

In other news, I’ve continued to keep track of my deadly sins but have started calling myself on them as they happen. This seems to creep out whomever I am talking to. I am starting to yell out the sin I commit, I pull out my little black book, flip through my easy-to-read sin tabs, and check off a deadly sin with out skipping a beat in the conversation. Here’s an example of the conversation to follow.

"Pride!"
“What? What the hell was that, Obsquatch?”
“Well, if you really want to know… we were talking about how nobody really likes New Jersey except for people who live there, and I started thinking about these signs I used to see in Vermont that say ‘Don’t Jersey Vermont,’ and then I remembered the only time I went to New Jersey on purpose and how depressed I got looking at the endless suburban sprawl that New Jersey-ians call wilderness, and then I felt proud to grow up in such a beautiful place like Vermont. And that pride was deadly.”
“Oh.”
“That, and I was picturing that blond in the coffee shop drinking her grande-caramel-half-caf-macchiato-double-shot-of-espresso-re-caf-with-soy butt naked.”
“Lust, right?”
“No. Sure she’s cute, but I really wanted to see her spill it all over herself and run out screaming naked bloody murder.”
“Right… wrath.”
“You got it. But you were kinda right, I was also picturing the crazy old lady out front of McDonalds riding a mechanical bull, wearing nothing but a tiara, and trying to eat a polish sausage doused in mustard. That’s lust.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you are one sick puppy?”
“Yes, and I’m proud of it, my friend.”
“I’m not envious of you.”
“Then you are half the deadly sinner that I am.”
Let’s do the numbers.
Lust – 19
Wrath – 44 (I had to take down all the decorations I had been putting up for three days, and replace them with new ones that don’t look as good. That was the closes I’ve ever come to the veins in my forehead exploding. Why is it Christmas time right now? Grrrrrrr… 45)
Gluttony – 7 (I’m so hungry)
Greed – 1 (I wanted S.O.S. to make more money for playing our friends wedding because we kicked so much ass! Crap! Pride! Crap!)
Pride – 22
Envy – 5
Sloth – 13 (It took me five days to move twenty feet. I’m easily distracted by Lust, Wrath, Gluttony and Pride)

Bite Me, Cactus - or - How To Look Suicidal While Maintaining That Natural, Healthy Skin Glow

Pumpkin Time – or – Arts And Crafts 90’s Rock

Doing anything besides driving while listening to NPR makes getting things accomplished a lot more difficult. Although NPR is a vital news source and the stories are interesting, once I park my car I am usually depressed and I want to hide my head in the sand and wait for better, brighter days (Obama). This is most likely because NPR reports what is actually happening in the world, not the candy coated, un-news crap that most news sources latch onto. Regardless. I was at a Pumpkin-ing Gathering last night, maybe it was a party. There was Jameson Irish Whiskey, which is starting to seem ever present in my life, and there was cauldron of apple cider that went well with the Jameson, and there were pumpkins that demanded creativity, and there were friends who have been friends beyond belief so believe me they are friends, and if that constitutes a party, then I was at a Pumpkin-ing Party. We were, for some reason, listening to NPR, first All Things Considered, then local news, then the BBC news, then some story about poverty in Brooklyn. NPR seemed to sap both the creativity in the conversation between the pumpkin-ers and also the levels of joy in the room the pumpkin-ers were trying to “drink, carve, and be merry” in. The creative thoughts that were to be transposed from the pumpkin-ers brains onto the pumpkins were not dampened by NPR, possibly the opposite and many a good idea was born during this emotionally turbulent time, but once the radio was changed to a 90’s pop rock station with a catchy call number jingle, pumpkin carving productivity took a huge upswing, as did whiskey consumption and all around revelry. Although motivating, the musical selection was also conducive to increased levels of, “this song sucks,” and, “wow, this song really sucks.” The common response to these statements was, “yes, it does.” Long live crap music.

This is my Mobius strip Jack-O-Lantern. I thought it up myself


Behold, Alan and the helm of Pump-ed-ness and son (kin?)


What, you want pictures? Damn you.







Nights made of awesome are... awesome? Thanks.

Seven Deadly Sins Project #3 – What The Hell Is With All These Damn Christmas Lights.

Maybe you know of the quantum mechanical theory that one object can exist in two different places at one time, and there for coexists in two different times at once. I’m am proof. I work in a greenhouse, but simultaneously I work in the darkest corner in the deepest pit of Hell. Today is Tuesday, October 28, 2008 but in the Gethsemane Gift Shop, it is December 24, the night before Christmas. How did this happen? How is it that Halloween isn’t for another three days, but today I was taking down spiderwebs and packing up skeletons while stringing up electric snowflakes, unpacking fake snow-covered evergreens, and hanging glitter-covered hotdogs and multicolored-feathered birds on a tree that was dripping with so many rhinestones and sequins that it could win a pride parade pageant. Needless to say, the fact that an object, like myself, can exist in a greenhouse before Halloween, and simultaneously exist in an Elf’s workshop months later, racks up a bunch of Wrath points in my little black book.

I hung those, in a not-so-silent protest. I developed a slight rash on my neck while completing this task.


Yes, that tree is upside down.


I may start messing with Santa on a regular basis.


One of the fourteen fake trees in the store. That's right. Fourteen.

Sin Tallies as of 7:34pm, 10/28/08.
Lust – 8
Wrath – 28
Glutton – 7
Greed – 1
Pride – 10
Envy – 3
Sloth – 3

Gluttony – For Sunday Family Dinner, a good Jewish friend of mine made Bacon Wrapped Meatloaf. I had three slices. Check that, they were slabs of Bacon Wrapped Meatloaf, not slices.

Sloth – I passed out shortly after Sunday Family Dinner on a pile of pillows, in front of a fireplace, with BBQ stains on my shirt and a chin shinny with meat grease.

Wrath (22) – One vote of wrath for every Christmas ornament I was forced to hang.

Sloth – I hid in a warehouse today to avoid putting up any more Christmas decorations. It was cold, dark, musky, and full of boxes. Totally worth it.

This Is Only A Fraction Of The Story - or - Turn Your Speakers Down, Really.

8:30 am. Before a 5 hour Sons Of Susan road trip to perform at Ryan's wedding in Michigan, Alan and I took a minute to know about the bird while waiting in a parking lot outside of a big white van. Here is evidence and proof that we were about to embark on something magical.


Trust me, there is enough material from this weekend to fill a book. I will tell you all about it as soon as I am done moving. Cheers.

For Those With No Interest In Sin - or - I Just Wanna See Something Spin

If you came here for a cool video and not a long winded lecture on how long or bright I will burn, here's one I really like.
The future is now.

Seven Deadly Sins Project #2: The First Few Sins Are Just A Warm Up

I carry around a little black book and put check marks next to my deadly sins as I commit them. I call it, The Seven Deadly Sins Project. Here is the tally so far.
Lust – 6
Wrath – 3
Gluttony – 3
Greed – 0
Pride – 5
Envy – 4
Sloth – 2

Obviously, lust is getting the better of me. But before you react in your oh-so-predictable way by saying that I should get a hobby like building model airplane or by saying that I'll go blind if I don't stop doing that, let’s go over some basic ideology here. Lust doesn’t mean I’m banging everything in sight, even though this lamp looks like it could use a good rogering. According to wikipedia, lust “is usually thought of as involving obsessive or excessive thoughts or desires of a sexual nature.” This means that lust isn’t an action, but more of a distracting internal flash of lewd thoughts or breath stopping images that lures one away from a more pure train of thought. I figured that 80-95% of the time that I spend awake, I spend being distracted by beautiful women. That might also include time I spend asleep, come to think of it. But it doesn’t make me evil to think this way; it makes me horny. Once I figured that out, I started to wonder if I really wanted to keep track of every time that I was so overwhelmingly distracted by a woman that I would say to myself, “that’s a sin, and if it’s not, just add a bucket of friend chicken, a toilet bowl brush, an accordion, and a snorkel and flippers to make sure it is a sin.” But in real life, I don’t stop myself for thinking lewd thoughts to put a check mark down in my little black book. I think the thought through its logical end point (a hot wife, a huge house on the beach, 2.5 loving children that will do my bidding, and a huge pile of money and diamonds) and then come back to reality with a little smile on my face. If I just happen to catch a glimpse of a beautiful woman in a low cut dress, dancing her butt off at one of the weddings I attend weekly, am I really supposed to look the other way, whip myself on the back till I bleed and mumble “Impure! Impure! Shame! Shame!” Nope. I’m supposed to picture her naked, with a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a Chicago style hot dog in the other. That’s what balls are for.

I’ve been trying to keep track of some of the more interesting instances of my sinner ways. Here are some highlights from the first few days. Note that not all sins are accounted for. There are two reasons for this.

1) I sin and there is no morality or humor to be found in it.
2) Surreptitiousness.

10/21
Envy – A coworker had a homemade meatloaf sandwich. It smelled fantastic. I wanted to poke her in the eye and steal it. By the end of my lunch break, she gave me a bite. I didn’t know heaven fit between two slices of bread.
Lust – I brought a date to see Devil in a Woodpile. I began to force myself to yawn to get the point across that I was too tired to stay for their second set. I brought her home between sets, said goodnight, and returned to the show because I wanted to talk to two other cute girls at the show that winked at me. They ended up wanting to talk about astrology, so I ditched them and got drunk with SexFist at the RedLine Tap.
Sloth – Getting drunk with SexFist will sure make you feel slovenly.

10/22
Lust – Woke up with “questionable content” on my computer screen.
Sloth – 10 minutes late for work after hitting the snooze button repeatedly for an hour, and then being distracted by afore mentioned “questionable content”.
Gluttony – At lunch, I had a chicken Torta, a King Sized steak Burrito, a Chorizo taco, and a large horchata. I bought all this because the Mexican joint doesn’t take credit cards for orders less than $10 and everything on the menu costs $1.75. I didn’t have to eat it all, but I did.
Lust – “Questionable content” was still on my screen when I returned home from work.

Side note – I recycled 10 large garbage bags full of Styrofoam peanuts that otherwise would have go into the dumpsters. That’s gotta clear me of at least a couple sloths and a glutton or two, right?

10/23
Pride – I wrote a Rolling Stones medley for a wedding that The Sons Of Susan have been hired to play. After tons of micromanaging, the tune sounds fantanstic. I felt proud. We will no doubt screw it up at the wedding… that, and the first dance… and then the rest of the night. I love weddings.
Pride – I dropped a huge poo in someone else’s house. I then proceeded to stand in awe of my accomplishment, with the bathroom fan on, for a good five minutes. This sin links directly back to Gluttony, which is apparently a gateway sin.
Envy – A near and dear friend of mine went out to lunch with his whole office where they all proceeded to get drunk together and, upon returning to work, got nothing accomplished on account of the entire office being “buzzed” and, instead, watched The Office.

10/24
Pride – An X-lover told me via IM that she still listens to music that I introduced her to. She asked me if that made me proud. I said, “Pride is a deadly sin,” which was closely followed with “yes, it does.”
Wrath – Said X asked me if “it was ok for [her] to still read my blog,” even though she doesn’t want to talk to me or contact me. That type of behavior would “hurt [her] sweetheart.” So, in essence, she anonymously keeps tabs on me via one of my creative outlets, can regularly laugh along with what I share of my life from a distance, and can see the world the way I see it, but the second she shows me a hint of interest in my life outside of these rants, it damages her current relationship. That pissed me off. I see it as selfish and childish to believe that peeking in on me is innocent but telling me that you are peeking is disrespectful to your new boyfriend. Bullshit. There is more here, lady. My answer to her question is this. “Yes, you can still read my blog. I would never want to stop you from reading it, but don’t be surprised if something like these last few sentences gets tossed your way.” Wrath is gonna be a tough one for me to keep under control.
Glutton – Arby’s Beef, Bacon and Cheddar melt. Nuff said.
Wrath – Finding parking in Naperville on Friday night means contending with enough BMW, Mercedes, Lexus, and Audi owners for one of the fourteen parking spots in Naperville. All the drivers in this town needed to be yelled at for being idiots. I proudly took up the job.
Pride – I was the only person / nerdfighter, out of more than 200, at John Green’s Paper Towns book signing that had a beard. His response to this observation was something along the lines of, "If all the nerdfighters were 16, I don't think that we'd accomplish much."
Pride – I briefly explained to John Green, who is a privately religious man, what this Seven Deadly Sins Project was about and then asked him to sign my list of sins under pride. He replied, “If you’ve only been guilty of the sin of pride four times in a month, you’re doing pretty well.” I told him it was day three. He laughed as he became check mark number five.

Seven Deadly Sins Project Part #1: This Project Is Spelled With A Capital Vice

When it rains, it pours. What also happens when it rains? Well, first off, not a lot of people think, “This is perfect weather for going to go house plant shopping.” If there is an economic crisis while it’s raining, even fewer people head towards the greenhouse. In essence, when it rains, it pours and people stay inside and I get bored at work. I had some free time on my hands during the rain earlier this week, and you know what they say about idle hands. I needed something to do, so I tried to remember the Seven Deadly Sins, or the Cardinal Sins, or the Capital Vices. I found it easier to remember them if I wrote them down. Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Greed, Pride, Envy, Sloth. It actually took me an hour or so to remember them all. The paper on which I wrote them down was long and narrow, so it kind of looked like a shopping list.

“I need 4 cans of Wrath, a box of Envy, a big ol’ jug of Gluttony, and three pounds of sliced Lust. Some garden fresh Sloth sounds nice. Oh yeah, I can’t forget the shaved Greed and crushed Pride.”

Having this shopping list got me thinking about our American / Capitalist culture and how it seems that the entertainment for the masses these days focuses on as many of these sins as possible, as often as possible, all at once. The penultimate example I can think of is the MTV show, “My Super Sweet 16,” which is second only to live coverage of the House of Representatives on CSPAN. But there is no room here to rant about stupid television shows that I do not watch on purpose, or politics. There is room for a little statistic taking, though. Here’s my idea.

1) I will have a small black notebook and a pen on my person, at all times. The first seven pages of this notebook will contain my shopping list of deadly sins.

2) I will record a slash for each sin I commit as I feel I commit them. I have asked a few “watch-gods” to catch me if I miss one or two.

3) I will make records of my favorite instances of sin and post them on this website periodically.

4) At the end of two weeks, I will find an average daily rate of sin. With this info I will spend the next two weeks sinning less than average (hopefully by half, or more), and the following weeks sinning more than average (hopefully twice as often, or more) and find out which lifestyle is more fun.

There it is, the Seven Deadly Sins Project. I welcome anyone who is willing to join me in sinning up a storm in the name of Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Obsquatchiness.

I Think I Love Golf, Finally - or - Houston, We Have A Solution

This is the funniest thing I've seen in a while from the website Urban Prankster. They take the best of the "pranks, hacks, participatory art, flash mobs, and other creative endeavors that take place in public places in cities across the world," and post it for me to say things like, "I wish I had thought of that," and "If I were there, I bet I'd meet my future wife." This one literally make me spit Guinness all over my monitor.



What else is making me laugh these days? The first third of this book that was just released on Thursday, 10/16/08.


And, when it is making me laugh, I am laughing my butt off at a somber coffee shop filled with hipsters not laughing. Holy crap, is it Friday? And I spend the night in a coffee shop? Crap. Someone remind me how to have a life.

My Buddy The House Plant #5: Who Likes Life? Who Wants More Of It?

I am moving out my apartment. I am moving into my own place. It has taken me 30 years to figure out that I don’t want to live with roommates anymore, so on Oct 25th, I’m packing all of my things into boxes and walking down one flight of stairs into the apartment directly below my current one. I am literally moving 20 feet. Arguably not a big move. Here’s the only problem, I will not have a dining room. I will have a dining room but not the one I have right now, which I use as a living room because my real living room is actually my bedroom, and that moved the living room into what was the dining room, which moved the dining room into half of the kitchen, which was then filled with houseplants, along with the dining room, the living room, and my bedroom, which is the new arboretum and which also maintains living proof that the chaos theory will not get laundry folded. The kitchen / dining room of my current place has east facing windows, the living room has a huge south facing window, and my bedroom has west facing windows. I do not have blinds on any of these windows because they are filled with plants. There are plants everywhere, dammit. Everywhere.





Even Ikus prefers to sleep in the soil of the Croton plant I put in his cage.


My new apartment is about the size of my current bedroom / living room / chaos theory chamber. There are two other rooms in the new place, but one is the kitchen and one is a strange entryway-cubical which will soon become my shoe / bike / bass / fish / snake storage room. This new place does not have nearly the same amount window space, so my plants will not survive. The cactuses will die shadowy shaded little deaths and the Wandering Jew will quit wandering, give up the lowly life of a houseplant, and become an investment banker or a movie director. The Ficus will fail, the Begonia will be gone-ya, the nepenthes will turn from a pitcher plant to a catcher plant and catch some kind of plant plague, and most of my jade plants will go to the great greenhouse in the sky. That is unless you save these poor, wretched botanical souls.

In short, I am going to give away the lion’s share of my house plants. If you want one, get in touch with me and I will give you a sadistic, maniacal, abusive life form of your very own. There are only a few that I won’t give up, including the 9-foot Aralia, the 5-year-old Jade tree, the 3-stem Dracaenia Tarzana, the Staghorn plaque and the Hawarthia bowl.

What are you waiting for? Come take a tour of my personal green house and take home a part of my life, and destroy it.

Uplifting Songs For Chipper People – or – Let Me Drown

I didn’t put on pants today. Instead, I skipped a meeting, lied to rich woman about being able to take care of her infected cactus, thawed some frozen chicken, and wrote this song.



Lyrics:
I woke up on the floor again this morning
My wallet’s here but all my money’s gone
There’s a throbbing in my head
As I make my empty bed,
But I tie my shoes and try to move along.

The church bells down the street are softly tolling,
And someone’s mourning a loved one they held dear
And as I’m shuffling by,
A tear falls from my eye
Cause I miss that girl and wish that she was here.

Ohhhhh, let me drown
This bottle is the only friend around.
The wheels are flat but this truck still runs
My back is good, but this load weights tons
And it seems the only way to go is down.

She used to lay her head down right beside me,
She used to whisper prayers into my ear.
And I sent her on her way
And regret it most every day,
My true love’s gone and I’m still waiting here.

Now the Angel’s share is in the Devil’s hand.
And there’s darkness in the heart of every man.
Mine surrounded her bright eyes,
And snuffed them out one at a time
Now I walk along the pathway of the Damned.

Ohhhhh, let me drown
This bottle is the only friend around.
The wheels are flat but this truck still runs
My back is good, but this load weights tons
And it seems the only way to go is down.
Music and Lyrics by Obsquatch ©2008

2nd Annual Sketchy Mustache Competition - We Have A Winner

Shawn moped up the opposition, and then the kitchen floor, with his hairy, sketchy, just plain wrong, face. Then he shaved this masterpiece.



If only Nick Cave had entered, he would have won.


Shawn, you win an honest to goodness pirate flag with a fake mustache glued onto it. Wave it with pride and stay away from high schools. Send me your address and I'll send you the flag. Congrats, my friend.

Final Score
Van = 8 1/2 very impressed and mostly totally unbiased votes

Obsquatch = 13 votes from sympathetic people in meaningful relationships that wonder, "Why? What happened to him?"

Shawn = 18 1/2 votes from people who will someday be running our government. That's a vote that I can believe in.

Thanks to everyone who either didn't shave or everyone who enjoyed the results. I love you all?

2nd Annual Sketchy Mustache End Game - or - Bust Out The Shaving Cream, I Want My Social Life Back

The 2nd Annual Sketchy Mustache Competition is coming to a close on Oct 1st at 12:01am. If you have a soul, follow the link and cast a vote. There is no question that this is a desperate attempt for attention from a desperately clean shaven man with sketchy mustache withdraw who would like nothing more than to make this silly, stupid, pointless contest mean something. So, make it something, damnit, make it mean something in your life, something bigger than it actually is. Make it something we can all believe in. Will you not help me on my quest, little man?

I'm Off To Walk My Brother Down The Isle - or - Never A Bridesmaid, Always A Drunk*

Tomorrow I leave for Arizona for my brother's wedding. I am ecstatic and am polishing my shoes, steaming shirts and getting my haircut by a professional (for the first time in years). So I'm a little to jittery to write some rant about how the G.O.P. is pure evil, but I'm sure that none of you have forgotten that. So instead, I'm giving you a little slide show of all the critters I've run into at the greenhouse. The fish were spawned there, but I took them home, named them (Zippy, Speeder, Toe-jam, Earl, and The Reverend Thelonious Belafonte (Adam, my brother, named that last one)) and put them in a bowl with some plants in my bedroom. I don't think they like seeing me naked, but who really does? The Shark and the Eels were at an aquarium store, I don't want a shark seeing me naked.








*Check out this very funny journal. This is where I got the idea for the title. Always a Drunk, Never a Bride