I Ran Out of Toilet Paper

One of my favorite things to do, is listen to or read interviews with musicians or actors regarding either an album or film they made in the past. Like say 10 or so years in the past. With the advent of Youtube, this is SUPER easy...and I guess the rest of the internet as well.
Why do I like this? Because it's super funny and they almost always look like a jackass BECAUSE whatever the title of said album/movie is, they always try to put the theme of the project into some sort of life (style) philosophy. Here's a made up example:

Interviewer: What does your album I Ran Out of Toilet Paper mean to you?
Musician: That's an excellent question. What it means it that we as a society can't stop wasting resources.     It's a lifestyle we live. We can't stop. There is only so much toilet paper left in the world. There is almost no 3 ply left in the world. It's sad. That's what the title track means.
Interviewer: Interesting...

Again, totally made up but not unheard of. Don't believe me? Try finding something online. It's funny, I promise.

Funny Story Time: Part Duex!!!!!

Place: The Silkscreen room at school.
Time: Oh let's say.....about 11:00 on a Saturday.
Event: I'm prepping some screens for class on Tuesday, and there is a school tour that comes through.

Not the "twins" he was asking about.

So I am cleaning and prepping some screens  while listening to Steel Panther and I'm there by myself: it's a god damn blast! I'm back where the big sink is, had the hose going, so I couldn't hear a damn thing; no Steel Panther, nothing. Then out of nowhere I hear someone talking to what seems like a bunch of people. Turns out a tour came through the studio. What song is playing? Super Sonic Sex Machine; which is just one of many hilarious Steel Panther tunes by the way. That must have been an interesting song to hear for the unprepared.
Anyways, so this tour guide asks how it's going and I tell her "super duper". She keeps talking, and I notice someone's dad in the background looking at my iPhone on the docking station, which happened to be playing the album Balls Out with the cover photo you see on the side. He then makes his way up to me and says this:

Guy: What's with the twins?
Me:  I'm sorry what?
Guy: The twins. What's with the Twins?

I'm totally lost. He then reaches up to my head and pulls of my Minnesota Twins cap. He was from Minnesota. He wanted to talk about how shitty the Twins are. Here I thought he was asking me why the woman on the album cover had huge boobs.

Funny Story Time

Setting: San Francisco

Time: Fall 2011

Event: the Vikings just lost ANOTHER god damn game in what was an unbelievably shitty season

I was walking down Van Ness after the Vikings got the shit kicked out of them AGAIN. I was wearing my Minnesota Wild hoodie and my Vikings hat. I come upon this dude who was wearing a Vikings jacket and hat. He look seriously pissed off. As I get close to him I see what he is wearing and he sees what I am wearing. In mid stride as we pass each other, we both stare at each other and begin laughing out loud as we pass each other. God damn Minnesota Vikings.

Books from My Childhood Part II

...and now, for another exciting installment in this thing I wrote a few weeks ago...part II!

Boogity Boo you little bastard!

So in the first installment of Books From My Childhood, I looked at the Boxcar Children and all the messed up things in that train car of crazy. Now, I'll examine one set of books I LOVED as a kid, until they got ridiculously stupid; Goosebumps.

First off, my very first one that I got was Say Cheese and Die, scared the shit out of me. Actually all the early ones did. Maybe R.L. Stein was like a kids version of Stephen King? But those books scared the shit out of me. I mean who would write stuff like that for a kid? Books about cameras that will show your death, parents who turn into crazy plant scientists, dummy's that come to life in the middle of the god damn night, or Halloween masks that become part of your face?! Seriously what the shit? Probably what was more messed up was the fact that I was in a stupid competition with kids in my class to see who could read as many of this child sized versions of It as fast as they could without getting admitting how much of a puss you were. Another messed up one was the classic Attack of the Mutant. That god damn book made me not want to read comics, for fear of becoming made of ink.
 But then all of a sudden something happened with this books, they jumped the shark (that would have been a crazy one!). Every kid in Murrica started to read them, they became super popular to the point where one was coming out like every month! They started making "chose your own adventure" books. But probably the most damning thing was that TV show. It took the scare right out because of the shitty acting and props. I guess they were going for a children's version of Tales From the Crypt (good idea?). I guess as these things became more popular R.L. Stein started to make them less scary to rake in the dough. I mean seriously, how many Night of the Living Dummy's did he write? 15? 59?
Looking back on those books now, it makes you wonder; "why did my parents let me read this shit?".

Book Series from My Childhood Part I

So I've decided that I'm going to analyze (in my highly accredited art student opinion of course) some of the book series that I grew up around. A few I read and some I didn't, but my two sisters did. These are of course meant to be cheeky and sarcastic, so don't get all bent out of shape on this.


The first series that I'm going to talk about is The Boxcar Children. Seriously, a bunch of kids living in a goddamn abandoned train car?!?!?! First off, how they hell are these kids able to just live there? I mean you obviously have to worry about food. Do they eat trash? Are they thieves? Do they do certain things for in exchange for some Taco Bell?
Then there is the whole um...sanitary issue. Kids in general are smelly and sticky, and these little bastards live in an abandoned train car. Where are you gonna take a shower, or bath if you're not a shower man (or woman)? What about washing your clothes? I mean sure in a pinch you can wear the same thing for a few days before it gets gross, stained, and smelly. And probably the big one: where do you take a shit? Not sure I need to elaborate any further on that one....
Next up is their home/office/abandoned train car. I assume that it's in the middle of fucking nowhere since no adults ever notice a handful of unsupervised stinky children eating and shitting by a railroad car. The thing has heavy ass doors. I mean yeah, in the summer you want that breeze to remove the smell of that heroin addict who O.D.ed on the way from Denver to Chicago in 1997 and remove the smell of hobo love; BUT come winter time you're gonna want those doors shut and guess what? Those damn things are HEAVY. People die getting stuck in there and you live in an abandoned one? In the middle of nowhere?
This leads me to my next point. What do they do about medical care? I mean it's a rusty old train car, chances are one of them is going to need a Tetanus shot...unless they like living with lock jaw. I mean is one of those kids Doogie Hower M.D.?
I think though, the strangest thing about this is the fact that these kids solve mysteries. God damn mysteries. How is it that these kids can solve a triple homicide or a break in at a shopping center, but none of these cops or just adults ask these kids: a) what are you doing here? b) where are your parents? c) where do you live? d) why do you look and smell like shit wrapped in lint? or e) how do you little bastards keep getting involved with these things? I'm calling Social Services. But no, no one takes the initiative.
For reals, this shit is kinda messed up and perplexing. Kids living in an old boxcar going around solving crimes and not getting hassled about where they live or not having any sort of adult supervision. That's America for you.

What's That Smell Part Six: Who Shit in the Air Vents?

Well, here goes the first entry of the new year and the sixth incredible chapter of this god damn epic piece known as What's That Smell? So sit back and read the smells!

This seasons journey started at about 4:30 in the god damn morning, as I waited outside for the Super Shuttle to arrive. I got the call and he didn't show for like 10 minutes. When he finally showed up, the whole van was packed and this driver was just chucking suitcases in the back left and right with no regard for anything. Fast forward a few hours or so and I'm on the plane to Minneapolis. And the dude next to me was farting pretty much the whole time. The kinda where you can tell you gotta a turd on deck. Yep bad. To top it off, he was also trying to bogart my space. BASTARD.
I then arrive in Minneapolis, which is one of my favorite airports; although there was one thing that was different this time. The entire place smelled like shit. Not metaphorically. More like someone took a duke in the air vents. It was everywhere. Mmm mmm.
Nothing magical really happened on the way from Minneapolis to Grand Forks, so I'll skip that part. My actual trip was good though and I can't wait to go back in the summer. So lets fast forward 2 weeks to me flying back.
I'm sitting in the new Grand Forks airport, which is much better than the old one for sure, and as I'm waiting for my flight to board the flight in the next terminal is about to board and the announcer guy is being super sarcastic and hilarious. Here is a taste of what he said:

 *"Okay, we're going to board our 1st class and priority customers first, if you are unsure if you fit into that category, chances are you don't."

*"We're going to be boarding in a specific numerical order, so don't bother crowding around, you're not getting on early."

*"...if you look on your ticket and see a Z you can board, and if you're from Canada that's a ZAY..."

Good stuff.

So Grand Forks to Minneapolis wasn't bad, the flight attendant had a bit of a retarded Moon Bloodgood look going on, but that was about it. That and the fact that the ginormous lady next to me kept hitting me with her arm as I read Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban (yeah I'm like 10 years behind, so what?).
Minneapolis to San Francisco was fairly pedestrian compared to past tales. There was the couple who sat next to me that kept having the urge to feel each other up, which was uh...weird to say the least. This was also the first time that I had been on a flight to where I had people from behind me rush the front of the plane so they could get off first, even though I was in the 4th row...of the second section of coach (which was right by the exit, which was why I was a bit miffed).
The journey from the airport was exciting as well. First the BART doors on the train were locked for about 10 minutes, while people were in the train (LAME!). I finally got to the Powell stop and saw Mandi waiting for me (that was super awesome!). Then as we were walking to the bus stop we passed a "homeless" guy who let me know I was officially back in San Francisco by saying this to me: "Hey man, can you buy me a hooker? It's too hard to masturbate when you can't feel your fingers!"

Well that's this seasons incredible (?) installment of What's That Smell?. While I was home I was brainstorming some ideas about future entries, hopefully they don't suck.

Peace out who ever reads this.

It's The End of The Year As We Know It

Well, well, well. The year is coming to an end, and possibly the world unless John Cusack can save us and get us to one of those giant metal boats. I'd have to say that all and all this was a pretty good year for myself (and if anyone of the 3 people who reads this and the 75 others who just stumble upon it had a great year as well, high five!). I had some personal triumphs, made some important changes in my life for the better, and got my academic/professional life kinda somewhat maybe figured out.
Figures that I go through some of these things during the 25th year of my existence, maybe some of it was like a pre-midlife crisis. Hopefully not, but if so it better damn well help me when that shit happens for reals! I made some of the best most consistent and thought out work to date (by the time I write something like this again next year, unless the world ends (see above) I hope that will have trumped that work).
On the horizon I have some pretty daunting things to look forward to but, for once in long time I feel ready to kick that shit in the ass.
Well, gang (and whoever stumbles upon this (again see above)) I hope you had a great year and if not have a way better 2012. There will be more hilarious and awkward stories to look forward to next year. Hell, I'm getting ready to fly home again and maybe there is another chapter in the epic god damn saga of What's that Smell?