R.I.P. Great Minnesota Freak Fest

I really don't want to start another blog with an apology, but I'm sorry. I "pulled a Eull" or "a Munson". Just when the blog was doing well, maybe taking off a little bit, I went and threw it all away. Of course Pat was right there to pick up the slack. I've enjoyed reading all of his blogs haven't you? His blog about moving to Milaca was hillarious, and his side splitting tale of how he met his girlfriend...priceless. My absolute favorite was the blog about the new Gopher stadium, those were some awesome pics he had from inside the first game. Oh wait, he didn't write about any of that shit. Pat has a blog but hates writing blogs. To keep our loyal readers interested I even tried to set up some guest bloggers but nobody wants to touch "Things We've Noticed." It's like our blog has become our genitalia. Unkept, unloved, and more sad than funny. Well that changes today.
For this blog I want you to go back, way back. All the way to the State Fair. The Great Minnesotan Get Together!! What a tradition. The food, the music, the tractors. The thing I like the best is the people. The State Fair has to be one of the best places to people watch in the entire nation. I love looking at the freaks, Pat calls it running into his Dad's friends. People without teeth gumming corndogs, ladies with beards, little fat kids with cotton candy on their face puking on the tilt-a-whirl (little Matt, twice). These are the people of the State Fair! This year Pat and I wanted to fit in with our genetically short-changed brethren.

I wore sweatpants, a church volleyball shirt, and my well worn John Deere hat. Pat wore his cut-off Morris intramural champ shirt (to show off his impressive body hair) and I think we both forgot deodorant. We looked bad but who cared, its the State Fair baby! Well, we got some cash, packed Mike, Jenny, and Hellstorm in the TL and away we went. The first surprise was the parking. $14! Ouch. Of course Mr. Moneybags Parker didn't want to take the park and ride so he paid it. That is a ridiculous amount of money to park in St. Paul. Then it was $14 to get in. $14!! I paid it begrudgingly and bitched the whole time in typical asshole Matt fashion. Inside the fair we had a mission. Get food and get drunk. Was it a Sunday? Yeah. But beer tastes good everyday and God told me she doesn't care. Mike knew where the cheapest beer stand was so we went right over. There we were informed by a disappointed elderly lady that alcohol sales don't start until noon. She shamed us all but we waited it out and got our beers at $4 a pop. Now is was time for some ass-jiggling food. I downed a footlong corndog so fast that I made a little kid cry. Pat ate two disgusting hot dogs. I drank a large root beer float. Hellstorm, Mike and Jenny were also chowing down. Another round of beers and we were off for some exploring. I found someone I had been searching for for years.


The adjustable bed guy from Columbia Heights. When I was young I would see his ads on Channel 9 and the address was Columbia Heights and I always remember thinking "Where the hell is Columbia Heights?" I watched so much tv as a kid that he became a father figure to me. I didn't get a chance to talk to him because he was busy making a sale but it was an honor to see someone successful come out of Columbia Heights. Mikey found an Ernest movie that he didn't have yet much to Jenny's dismay. Pat wanted to find himself a good pair of Moccasins. Hellstorm was thoroughly unimpressed by everything. We went to the U of M stand to see if we could get our money back. Hellstorm got her hearing checked (turns out she can hear just fine, she just doen't care to listen to my babbling). We continued to eat and drink but I couldn't help but notice how many stares we were getting.

I looked around and noticed there weren't any freaks to be found, just us. Where were all of Mario's (Pat's Dad) friends? They weren't at the games, they weren't at the cookie stand, they weren't at the baby animal barn. Then it hit me. I took my wallet out of my sweaty sweatpants and noticed I had spent $50. $50!! At the State Fair!! Granted I had eaten and drank like an idiot but that is a lot of money! How the hell can a family of freaks afford to come to the State Fair? They can't. Probably can't even afford to get in not to mention afford to buy a $15 bucket of cookies. It has gotten fucking ridiculous with how much shit costs there. It should be a place where all Minnesotans can come together to get fatter no matter how much money you make. If we don't do something soon families will be missing out on memorable moments and possible Christmas card photos because they just can't afford it. I miss you State Fair freaks, I promise you that Pat and I will carry on the torch for all of you, well if we can afford to.

Closet Homosexuality and McNuggets

Everybody have a good week? I did, I guess. I came home today to Hellstorm and Pat watching Notting Hill at 3:45 in the afternoon. Is that weird? Who watches a Brittish comedy on a Friday afternoon. My favorite thing about Pat watching any movie with accents or a foreign language is watching him do his puzzled look. There were two instances where he kind of turned his head a quarter turn like a dog and asked, "what did they just say?"
Granted, it was Brittish humor so I had absolutely no idea what was being said or if it was funny or not, but it was amusing none the less. Is Notting Hill funny? Maybe. Pat mentioned several times that Hugh Grant is one sexy son of a bitch. So it's got that going for it. Pat is also a huge fan of Zac Effron. For some reason when we watched 17 Again last weekend (I know, sad, sad, sad) Pat had to keep a blanket over his lap the whole time. Must have been cold, although it was like 85 degrees that night. I believe his exact quote at one point was "oh that zachy E has got an ass that won't quit!!" Ok, new topic please.

I'm wondering if anyone else has noticed that Chicken McNuggets are racist? When I think about it, I guess it's not just Chicken McNuggets but all processed chicken products. Why do all of them stress no dark meat. Seriously. McDonald's made a huge deal about this a few years ago. I understand the "no filler" claim they always stress because no one wants to eat beaks, feet and chicken shit, but why "no dark meat"? Dark meat is the best part of any bird. Turkey, Chicken, Pigeon, all have delicious dark meat. All children are being raised in America to hate dark meat. Every holiday my little cousins will refuse to eat the dark meat, they only want white meat which is usually pretty dry and tastes like a meaty sponge. They don't care, they gobble it up, they love it because it's white!! McDonald's is pushing their racist propaganda on America's youth with their stress that white meat is better than dark meat. Hellstorm just said the other night that she didn't like dark meat chicken when I offered some for her mac'n cheese. I informed her that it is way better than white meat and now she agrees. I think we should all make a public push that McDonald's puts dark meat back in their Chicken McNuggets. Would this settle the underlying racial inequalities in our country? No. But it would be a start, a delicious one at that.

Cindy, I Don't Think We're in Minnesota Anymore

Yes, that is my Uncle Steve with a chest hair man-kini. It is just one of the delightful and awe inspiring things I saw last Thursday, Friday, and Saturday up in Detroit Lakes attending the world famous country music festival We Fest. I just feel overwhelmed even trying to write about this festival experience because there is so much I'd like to talk about, I could go on for hours, maybe even write a small book about it, but I won't. I'll hit the low points for ya.

For a little background, I've been to We Fest once before. It was after sophomore year of college, I was heading up there to see about a girl, Kevin came with. Long story short, I slept in Kevin's truck while Kevin made out with three girls in their trailer, including the girl I went to see. Matt + We Fest= Not a good start.
This year I went with my Mom. That's right asshole, I went with my mom. She really likes country music and she paid for both of us to get VIP tickets center stage in row 23. Pretty nice of Cin-dog, even if she only asked me because her friend Sue couldn't go. The tickets included meals and all you can drink booze. Available for free were Miller Lite and Mike's Hard Lemonade in raspberry, regular, and lime. I literally shit my pants if I drink Miller Lite so it was nothing but Mike's Hard Lemonade for me and Cindy! We drank so much of the shit that we both ended up with burnt esophagi. By the third day we both agreed that it tasted like we were drinking gasoline so we toned it down, Cindy had three giant mugs and I only had four. I think this guy drank so much he almost died.

The big bands this year were Sawyer Brown, Trace Adkins, Craig Morgan, Taylor Swift, Kellie Pickler, Clint Black, and Big & Rich. Headlining were Toby Keith, Brooks & Dunn, and Tim McGraw. If you don't know who these bands are, you don't love America so why don't you just get the hell out. Not really. Some of the bands were really good, I liked Sawyer Brown, Trace Adkins (who did an awesome cover of a Rod Stewart song), Kellie Pickler (who is way, way, way more talented than Taylor Swift, Please write this girl some good songs!), Brooks and Dunn (who broke up on Monday) and Tim McGraw (Pat asked if I grabbed his crotch to see what Faith Hill would do about that, I didn't, but with a belt buckle that big I can see how someone would be tempted). Big and Rich kinda sucked, it was like a shitty rip off of a Kid Rock show including a midget and just shitty side show stuff. Craig Morgan will never be super popular or good, Clint Black was ok but they covered a Steely Dan song! Doesn't anyone realize that Steely Dan sucks? Taylor Swift, ladies and gentleman, was far and away the biggest piece of shit. If someone asked me specifically what was the worst part of her performance I don't know if I could answer with just one thing. The girl has very little talent and about as much personality as ----- (fill in the blank with some stupid ass chick you know, then subtract 1,000,000). There were huge pauses in the show, she would just stand there with her arms out just basking in the idiotic people applauding for her. She even had a garbage can banging fight with her back up singer (who was more talented than her).
Cin-dog couldn't take it after half the show and went to get more gasoline. If my mom thinks you suck, you probably suck pretty bad. She used to sit through Shyloc shows for god's sake!
Overall I would give the music a B-.
Tom Kat, the super duper annoying Emcee of the weekend announced that Kenny Chesney and Keith Urban are going to be there next year, therefore I will absolutely not be. Tom Kat has got a really, really, really unhealthy obsession with Keith Urban. Like I think he wants to keep him in a hole in his basement and eventually wear his skin around the house. He talked about him every chance he had. He also mentioned the fact (about 100 times) that he owns the Red Oak Steak and Wine restaurant in Lino Lakes. By the third day Cindy and I had come up with a pretty solid plan to burn it to the ground. Do not go there, do not support this douchebag.
Overall I think it was a pretty good time. Cin-dog is happy. I heard a few people died during the weekend which is horrible but I honestly can't believe hundreds of people don't die in those campgrounds. I want to leave you with something that really touched me during the Toby Keith show. As he finished his crappy show he yelled in the microphone "Don't ever apologize for being patriotic... fuck 'um!" Fuck'um indeed Toby, Fuck 'um indeed.

Fucking Korea! (Not the one you think)

If I've learned anything about the mass media in America it's that it, like blonde girls with black low-lights, cannot be trusted. Over the past 10 years or so we have heard nothing but horrible things said about Kim Jong-Il and North Korea. In the movie Team America he is depicted as a power hungry asshole bent on world domination using nuclear weapons. Every single news organization I can think of has labeled him a human rights terrorist and Georgey Bush said he was a part of the Axis of Evil. Just one problem, I just don't buy it.
Right now we have a major problem in Minnesota. Some of our best and brightest ladies are being kidnapped and forced to "teach English" in Korea. Oh no, not North Korea, Fucking South Korea!! The Korea that is supposedly on our side is stealing our coolest chicks and forcing them to stay there for a minimum of one year, and then they are supposedly deciding to stay for longer!?! Are you fucking kidding me with this shit? Kim Jong-Il never kidnapped any of my friends! Some of these girls' friends and family members can't see through the mirage that the "Republic of Korea" has been creating but I have. Why would anyone in their right mind go to Korea? Right now Pat and I have two friends in Korea. Takayla and Emily and a third cool chick (Kate Hunt) is either going soon or has left already. These are good girls with good families. Not some junkies that would throw their lives away. They have been forced to tell their families that they went by their own free will but we need to help them. We just sent former president Bill Clinton on a rescue mission but of course we sent Bill to the wrong fucking Korea!! Go south Bill, go south!! On second thought, we better send Hillary, I don't trust Billy with my lady friends. We already tried one rescue mission with a hero I like to call Jacob. He's Takayla's boyfriend and went over to Korea to try and rescue her. Of course those fucking bastards caught him and now he's forced to "teach English" along with the rest of them! Does anyone have any idea how many young women could be trapped over there? I know what can happen, I've seen it before. My friend Skoal mysteriously went to Japan during college and now he's fluent and is studying to be a lawyer in Japan. Who would ever think that was a good idea? Seriously? We have to do something now, we have to help our friends. This is the picture of the bastard you can't trust.

His name is Lee Myung-bak and he is stealing my friends. Fuck you sir, and fuck Hyundai too.

Trust No One! Especially...

Trends come and Trends go. Some of my personal favs include slap bracelets, tearjerkers gum, HyperColor shirts (I had a sweatshirt it was fuchsia), but one trend that has evolved and grown into something totally out of control (in my personal opinion) is hair highlights.

Now don't get me wrong ten/eleven years ago I was totally into the male highlight. I had the cutest spiky blonde (sorry I must side track, how in the hell do you spell Blonde/Blond? My computer refuses to allow me to spell it Blonde? I always thought it was spelled with a 'e'?) bangs in all of Columbia Heights. Just the right spikes not to long not to short (in Long Island accent, if you don't get this joke don't worry it's an inside joke between Matt and I. Does having a lot of inside jokes with your male BFF make you weird?). OK, focus Patrick. Highlights. I had rocked highlights, I admit it, but then I turned 18 and got a big boy hairdo! But this story isn't really about me, it's about Woman/Girls/Ladies/Mothers/Daughters with two-toned major fashion statement hairdos!



The most popular of the two-toned dye job is the Blonde on Top with Black/Brown under. Now I have looked long and hard on the Internet and found a few examples. Here is one that i found I found. If you were having trouble making a visual this will help a little.

"Would you trust me?"

Now the point of me writing this is... as I have begun to see more and more of these Woman/Girls/Ladies/Mothers/Daughters with hair like this I started to make broad generalizations about them and the one that I cannot seem to get over is........... I would never trust someone with a hair style like this!!! Now, don't get me wrong I feel horrible for judging people especially for how they look but... geesh these Chicks and their two toned hair scares me!!! And it's not so much that I'm scared its the fact that I just don't trust them! I don't know if it's just me but I cannot trust them!

Things I would not allow/trust two toned hairdo individuals to do:

Hold a Baby

Properly count out my change

Give me financial/political/relationship advice

Change the oil in my car …

The only thing that they can be trusted to do is.......if you think hard enough you can guess it.....highlight hair!!!

Now this is where my theory/story gets weird. I'm convinced that the two toned hair do is a cult created by hairdressers ages 18-29 (if your 30 and your pressuring Woman/Girls/Ladies/Mothers/Daughters to do this two toned thing to their hair, you need to take a long hard look at your life!). I have absolutely no hard evidence to back up this claim but I imagine scenarios like this playing themselves out in Salons daily all over the world...

Blonde Woman/Girl/Lady/Mother/Daughter walks into Salon (you typical suburban hair/spa/nails/tanning/waxing Salon) she is politely greeted and sat down in the Stylists chair. Stylist: “you have like such amazing hair” “omg (yes omg, not 'oh my god' because that would take way to long to say)” “you hair is so blonde it's like totally white, it's almost like the color of clear? (sorry I imagine these conversations in my head, I have no idea if this is what really happens)”. Stylist: “you know what would be totally hot...if we dyed your hair dark dark brown underneath all this wonderful clear blonde hair”. Blonde Woman/Girl/Lady/Mother/Daughter excitingly agrees because “nobody trusts me anyway, so why the hell not”!

The moral of the story is, next time you see a Woman/Girl/Lady/Mother/Daughter with hair like this keep one eye on them, because, THEY CANNOT BE TRUSTED!!!!

Motivation?

I have a problem. Yes writing a blog that is grammatically correct is a problem for myself, but this is not the problem I'm concerned about today. MOTIVATION. Nine letters that have plagued me all my life.
My lack of Motivation today is centered around my Portfolio which when completed will complete my studies at the glorious and wonderful Argosy "We want your money at all costs" University. All I need to do is put together some of my work from the past three years of school and place them in a nice little three ring binder and wha la, Masters Degree! One little nine letter problem. I have absolutely zero MOTIVATION to complete this task. Why? You might be asking your self how can something so important? (There is another blog to written about the ? and my invention of the ? as a sarcastic tool while writing/texting, but that will be written on another day when i have a little more .... wait for it... MOTIVATION?) be so hard to complete?
I've been writting this and it's been about ten minutes so my MOTIVATION is shot. Even doing something as fun as writing this blog is just to much for me.
Before I go and make this a to be continued blog, I have a ? what is the oppostie of MOTIVATION?
I obviously don't have the answer. But talk amonkast yourself.... if you have the answer please let me know!

Childish Humor? I think not!!!!

Matt and I once wrote an article for our old Things We've Noticed column in which Matt explained the phenomana of pee shivers. If you can't remember just request that Matt retell the story in this blog. Well there was one student on campus who was none to pleased with our "type" of humor, he felt so strongly that we wrote in to the editor explaining "that no one likes your childish poop and pee humor!" After reading this editorial I was furious! What an idiot. First of all everyone poops and pees therefore it should be funny to everyone! Second, no where in the article did we say anything about poop!!! So, to make things fair, I have to talk about poop.

Now this isn't as much about poop as it is about the smell of poop. And, it doesn't have anything to do with poop produced by myself or the great toliet clogger Matt. Now the good thing about this story is that everyone has experienced it, men and woman, old and young, smart and dumb. This story begins in any unisex one toliet bathroom. It could be anywhere work, the mall, the bank, the gastroenterologists office, anywhere in public that someone might poop.

Now you walk into the bathroom and boom, pow, smack you are floored but the smell of poop! Wow whoever was in here (because unfourtunatly you didn't get a glimpse of the person before you) before me just shit out something that smells like death! God Damn, it smells like chicken pizza covered in shit! Now sometimes the smell is worse then others, on a scale of one to ten, sometimes a 3 (whcih smells like a warm baby diaper) and sometimes a 7 (which smells like the poop of a 300 pound man the day after a Hot Wings eating contest (in which the person shitty was the winner)).

I here is where the story gets weird. Why is it that when you come face to face with pooper before you go into the bathroom the smell is always worse!!! This has happened to me on many occasions but most recently at work. I was in the need of the facilities because I had been drinking a lot of water and I was about to go into the bathroom but it was IN USE. Great, I have to piss like a race horse, and now I have to wait. So I'm outside the bathroom doing the pee-pee dance when the door opens and one of my co-workers walks out. I polietly smile and saw hello as he passes by. I walk into the bathroom without thinking twice and then it happened. I was hit in the face with the worse smell I can ever remember smelling boy was it discusting. Words can't even describe it! On the scale of one to ten, this smell was an 11! Yeah thats right 11! Off the scales! It was a Spinal Tap style 11 (why 11? because it's higher then 10). Now as I was peeing I got to thinking why did that man's shit smell so bad? And I think I have the answer, it was because I knew who's shit I was smelling!!! When you don't see the person who leaves a stinky shit smell, you have no connection to them, you don't know what they look like, you don't know what they could have eaten.

So in conclusion, if at all possible aviod going to the bathroom imediately after someone else. Because if you do you may have to experience the power of 11!

Written, Created and Edited
by Patrick

Holy Shit!! It's July!

Um, I don't know how to say this, but I'm sorry. Two months without a single blog? Inexcusable. The past two months have been rough on us. It has been the end of an era. For those of you who don't know, Pat and I no longer live together. I moved in with hell-storm, and Pat got an adult job and moved to someplace called Milaca. At least we don't have to worry about the third roommate anymore. What a fucking disaster that was. Oh, you don't know about our roommate stories? Well I'll tell you. (The names have been changed to protect the assholes in these stories, don't try to figure out who I'm talking about, I changed them a lot.)
It all started when Pat and I decided to get the hell out of St. Louis Park. We had lived in the same moderately cramped, kinda shitty apartment for three years and it was really starting to smell like Pat full time so we knew it was time to bail. Plus I wanted a room a little bigger than a closet so that was also a determining factor, but really the smell was #1. We scoured Craigslist for at least 30 minutes before we found this three bedroom place on Hennepin. It looked pretty nice and it was right next to an auto parts store so that is always a plus. We took a tour and really liked it but we were warned that living on Hennepin was the midwest's equivalent to living in Vegas. With that knowledge in hand, we took the place, we even got a discounted rate because there was just two of us!! Sweet!!
This is where the story goes to shit. After a couple of months at the new place we were still waiting for Pat's friend Maurney to move in with us. Maurney was full of excuses. My lease isn't up, I don't have money, Pat watches me sleep, I like living in a closet. It was getting old. We both thought Maurney would be perfect, but how long can you wait? Through this whole time I was talking to my old best friend Klevin. Klevin was living up in Fargo/Moorhead which is a fucking horrible place to live, I don't care what anyone says. No one makes anything of themselves in North Dakota, nobody. Klevin was having some severe problems so one day I drove up there and got him. Pat was not happy. Not happy at all. Klevin detoxed, got a job, and tried to turn his life around (maybe?) but it wasn't happening and things went to shit pretty fast. This pissed me off to no end because I hate when Pat is right, and he was definitely right on that one. We had found a new place to move into with the same landlord so a week before we were going to move we decided Klevin was out and Maurney was in. We moved all of our shit without a truck one block north on Hennepin. Little did we know, shit was about to really go down hill.
After a couple of months Maurney decided it was time to throw his life away and informed us he was moving out to live with Yoko. We were sad because Maurney is a great guy and it is always sad to see one of your brothers cut down in their prime. Knowing we needed a new roommate, we turned to the most fail safe method available. Craigslist. After a bunch of people called, flaked out, freaked us out, we found Dane. He was from Iowa and was moving to the cities. He wanted the place sight unseen and was gonna move up asap. Pat never got his name right and always thought Dean was moving in and would even have imaginary conversations with Dean while watching Tv. Well the day Dane was supposed to move in he called and said he magically got this internship in D.C. so he wasn't moving up. Well fuck. This was about a week before rent was due so we were really in a bind. (On a side note we learned from Facebook that Dane was a fat ugly republican douche bag with a severely ugly girlfriend who looked like she had a few missing/extra chromosomes, I hope he is having a great time in Obama's D.C., what a fuck bag).
ANYWAYS...we got a call from this guy called Talcom Rage and he told us he needed a place to live asap. His girlfriend drove him over (he didn't have a license or car) and we showed him the place and talked to him. He was originally from New York but lived in Wisconsin. He was in a rap group and his stage name was "two face piece of shit liar" so maybe that should have been a clue for us. We wanted a deposit but he told us that the last place he was living at screwed him over so he would get us the deposit and first months rent right away. Well we waited, and we waited, all of the time being led on with promises and bullshit. "I got a deposit coming, my tax refund is coming, Santa is bringing me some cash", shit like that. ALMOST TWO MONTHS HAD PASSED when Pat informed me that Talcom had stole his credit card and walked up and down Hennepin and bought food and worthless shit to the tune of almost $300 before Pat cancelled his card. How did Pat know it was Talcom? The dumbass left a receipt in his room!! What a fucking idiot!! Well at this point we were out $1065 between rent and utilities so we kicked Talcom's worthless ass out. When confronted about stealing the card he didn't even deny it and said that he hoped to "see us around". It took all of my buddist monk training to not beat the shit out of that little midget. If you ever meet a man with a name very close to Talcom Rage and is about 5' tall, please kick the shit out of him for me, that would be great.
Well now we were really in a bind. We needed a rooommate fast because we were broke and rent was due soon. We went back to a reliable source for our next roommate, a man with impeccable taste in women, Maurney. Why not go to the man that created the whole shit storm in the first place right? Maurney had this acquaintance from when he was bouncing and he knew she was looking for a place to live asap because her roommate's boyfriend hated her. We met her (we'll call her Annoying Beeatch) and since we had no other real options we let her move in. Annoying Beeatch seemed ok at first. She paid rent, always a plus, and was ok compared to the train of losers we had dealt with before. Annoying had this awful trait of talking for an hour straight without taking a break, not even to breathe. She would go on and on even when you gave her all of the normal signs you weren't interested like saying how busy you were, yawning, shutting the door in her face, slapping her, screaming shut the fuck up at her, nothing worked. I came up with the idea that she sat in her room and practiced conversations when no one was around. Every story she had sounded rehearsed. "Last year we went to 10k and had a great time even though my boyfriend got stoned and overdosed but we saw band blah and blah and blah and blah, and blah, and blah for like a list of thirty bands!! Who can list that off without practice?? NO ONE! The funniest thing Annoying ever did was one afternoon she had an extremely loud hour long conversation with one of her friends about how much her life sucked and how no one loved her and then at the end of the rant started complaining how she didn't have any real friends. Can you imagine being on the other end of that line. You just listened to some sobbing chick for an hour only to be told at the end that you aren't a real friend. I knew then why her old roommate's boyfriend had hated her. Finally Pat and I decided to part ways so Annoying Beeatch had to move out on her own to annoy some other unsuspecting sap. Of course she didn't help us clean the apartment, that would have been not annoying.
So that is the story of the roommates. You probably can't make it through in one sitting. The life lesson here is to never trust anyone and that good friends are hard to find. I hope to someday have a good friend but until then I'm stuck with my non-blog writing, wookie looking best friend in Milaca. I miss you buddy!!!!

Can you guess the secret ingredient?

Everyone knows that I love my Mom, I love her more than life itself but the woman is a crazy cook. This past weekend we went back to Fergus for Eull spring vacation '09. It consisted of several spring break classics such as moving shit to a storage locker, painting window sills, and picking out bathroom vanities. Needless to say, it got a little crazy. While we were there though, my Mom had a few culinary delights in store for us to keep our energy up and our spirits soaring. Our first treat was tater tot hot dish. A Minnesotan staple. Pretty simple recipe I would assume. Some hamburger, vegetables of some kind, cream soup, tater tots, and then you bake the shit. I like tater tot hot dish, I like it a lot. Then I had my Mom's. When I was helping her pour the concoction into the pan I got a little on my finger. I couldn't help but lick it off because I'm a fat guy and that's what we do. To my surprise it was a little spicy, and kind of cheesy or something. That's right, you guessed it, it's queso dip. I have no idea why someone would put queso dip in tater tot hot dish but there it was. She put the mess in the oven and we waited. A few hours later we were starving and ready to eat, this is the state she likes to keep us in so we can't refuse the food put in front of us. Well, the hot dish came out like soup and tasted something like cheese wiz and baby diaper. The sad thing was I was so hungry I had a second serving. The next morning my mom had told us that she was making egg bake for us. We always had egg bake at church growing up for Easter and I loved it. Again, a pretty easy recipe. Eggs, some bread, cheese, some sausage. Egg bake. Nope. Took my first bite and something was wrong. That's right, you guessed it, it's queso dip. Really mom? Again? I think she bought stock in fucking Tostitos. And it had potatoes in it! Again, I had seconds. I don't know when my Mom lost it in the kitchen. I don't remember the food being this bad as a kid, but of course you don't get to be a 215 lb. 7th grader by being picky about food. All of this food pales in comparison to the Oreo disaster of '06. I think that is when she officially jumped the shark. It was the first time Jess came to Fergus and my Mom planned a special dessert for all of us. My grandma Betty makes this killer Oreo dessert that has taken several years off of the life of anyone that has consumed it. Simple recipe: Oreos crushed, whip cream, dinner mints, Oreo crust. Somehow, and I don't know how, my Mom somehow made these ingredients into a pink, green, and black soup substance that had crystalized into some sort of super sugar. She had to serve it in a bowl. Maybe that's my clue for the future, if it's in a bowl and it's not supposed to be, avoid. Jess tried to eat some and I thought she was going to pass out. It didn't necessarily taste bad, it was just kind of slimey and toxically sweet. I got my bowl down with the help of three glasses of milk only to look over at my brother Andrew happily finishing his bowl, moving on to Jess's, and then going for more. When, not if, Andrew comes down with type 2 diabetes, we'll know the source. The good thing is, I'm pretty sure there wasn't any queso dip in it.
Still no blog from Pat. He has had a rough few weeks to put it mildly. Still no excuse but whatever.
I want to give a special shout out to my bro Mike for voting us the best blog in the Cities for CityPages. Thanks Mike!! You still suck, just not as much.
We are definitely going to try and blog more so keep checking in! I've got a special blog coming for Malcolm that you're not going to want to miss!

David

Sometimes in life something happens that makes you question everything that has happened in your life previously, and dull everything good that will happen in your future. David Ege committing suicide was one of those things. David was quite honestly one of the best people I know. I didn't know him as well as I should have, or as well as I would have liked to, but I knew him well enough to know that he should still be with us today. I do not understand how God could let something like this happen. Why God would let someone that was that special take his own life boggles my mind. It makes me question if God even exists when something this stupid happens. It would be so easy for God to just give someone a little joy or a little word of encouragement when they are at their lowest point, to keep them from making a permanent mistake on a temporary problem. David should not have hated himself, he should not have wanted to die. He had the world to see, people to love and children to raise. He sucombed to the bullshit that isn't worth anything. I just want to scream at the top of my lungs "DON'T DO IT DAVID!! CALL SOMEONE!! YOUR FAMILY LOVES YOU!!" But it is too late, and it always will be.

Let's get our motherfucking blog on!!

Hopefully everyone has noticed that Pat's first "blog" wasn't a blog at all. All he did was fucking mention possible topics that he should have been talking about but then in reality talked about nothing. It was laziness in its truest form and in no way will I let up on him. The mocking will continue in full force. I still hold no hope for the future. If you are reading this right now, I love you. Seriously, I love you. Man, what are the big things that have been happening lately that need to be talked about. First of all, the economy is in the shitter. The Dow dropped below 7,000 today on news that AIG lost 62 billion dollars this past quarter. Ouch. I don't even know what that is comparable to in real life. Well, it's sorta like Pat's Macbook going out right after he downloads some super sweet barely legal porno. You're king of the world, and then you have nothing. How does one company lose 62 billion dollars? The whole economy is dependant on whether or not the feds can keep AIG and Citigroup from going under. That is pretty sad. I read an interesting blurb in the Star Trib that was saying that a spark plug now costs more than a GM stock and a pack of pens was more than an Office Max stock. Are we really close to going under? Why does no one really seem worried? I mean people lament, "The economy really isn't good", but it doesn't seem like people around here are really that worried. In California, the state government is fucking broke, no money, has been for awhile. This is no big deal?? I just feel like the whole damn thing is just a big farce. The guys up top aren't panicking, just to keep us from panicking. But while we aren't panicking, our whole country is going down the shit hole financially. I thought I was doing ok but I just signed up for a Macy's card and I think it was the straw that will break my camel back. Fuck you Macy's, I want Dayton's back.
Holy shit. That was boring and depressing. Sorry

My First Blog!!! by Pat

So in order to get Matt off my Back I have decided to write a little something for our three "followers" (that's right three loyal "followers" ("followers" is apparently Blogspots way of taunting us that our fan base consists of only three people)( i just parenthesized that sentence!)). Now in case you haven't Noticed (Wink) (;) ) I have a little bit of a different style then that of my counter-part Matt. I want my blog posts to show the reader what is going on in
my mind (scary thought for those of you who know me). So if what you are reading on the page looks strange and confusing that is because it is supposed to look like that!!!!! Please don't question my genius.

For this first Blog i just wanted to get the hang of this Blogging thing? So in the next week or so I plan on hitting this thing running......I hope to blog on the following (this is just a little teaser to wet your wistle)....Minnesota Rollergirls...WhyI was uncomfortable with Facebook before it was trendy/cool to be uncomfortable with Facebook....Why is World of WarCraft so cool?...and finally why do I still live with Matt?

So there you have it my First Blog!!!!!

Thank you, Thank you very much! (Think Elvis)

P.S. I didn't proof read this. HaHa take that Mrs. Breening!!! (My High School English Teacher who hated me)

Chlorophyl, more like Borophyl

Well it's Thursday again, time for some more lamentations from Matt. Still no Pat. Sorry. When you have such genius running in your mind, its hard to explain it to common folk. That's why Pat hasn't written anything yet. He has to translate it for all us brain-dead, slack-jawed yokels. Last night I got done with work about 11:30 and I was walking to the parking ramp when I saw something that really made me think. A young man, assumably a college student, was walking back to the dorms with no coat on and singing at the top of his lungs. I assume he was intoxicated or high or just having a great time. The funniest thing was, he was by himself. No group trailing behind him or girlfriend acting embarrassed, just all by his lonesome. It made me laugh but it made me sad too. It reminded me of college when I would drunkenly walk down the street and sing or steal things or urinate weird places. I think that is pure joy. When you literally don't have a care in the world. Oh shit, I've gotta pee, that's ok, I can pee on this miniature windmill in this lady's yard. Problem solved. You know how you always see those scenes in movies where some guys are drinking and then they kind of grab eachother's shoulders and start singing. It looks like they couldn't get any happier no matter what. That is pure joy. Of course that scene usually leads into another scene with one of those guys getting killed by something, but whatever. When you have kids is it more joyful than drunken singing? I have a sneaking suspicion that it is close, maybe even tied, but kids are just a more socially acceptable form of joy. You can't send out a Christmas card of you and your buddies walking around drunk or high, smiling and laughing, with stories on the back of all the great times you had that year. But you can send out a card with forced pictures of you kids and all their accompishments. More socially accepted, but maybe not better. I think everyone should sing out loud as much as possible. I'm going to stop being so worried about what everyone else thinks about me and I'm going to belt out The Proclaimers "I would walk 5000 miles" when I feel its necessary. With how shitty a mood everyone has been in lately. I little singing might help.

Hey, if you've got a minute and want to cry, read this article from the one, the only, Bill Simmons (or The Sports Guy, as he is more readily known) http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/090122

Thursday Bullshit

Well, those of you waiting for Pat to write a blog...keep waiting. I think he is still depressed by the loss of his laptop, RIP barely legal porn and music filled Macbook. I'm sure he's depressed that he lost all of his papers from school. Bummer for humanity. Just to let you all know, we have a new roommate!! His name is Malcolm and he is one bad-ass motherfucker. He even cleaned the kitchen yesterday. Malcolm 1, Pat 0. I don't miss Maury at all. Actually, I'm glad he's gone. Yoko can have him. Maury was like sex with a stripper, both are extremely over-rated and will get you crabs for sure. It's also not advisable to take either one of them home to meet your parents.
It's tax season again! What are you going to use your refund for? I'm just gonna let the government keep my money, they need it more than I do. Actually, I might use it to buy Pat a new computer so he can finally write a blog. You can also donate your refund to "things we've noticed". The upkeep and maintenence fees are killing us.
I had a wicked pee-shiver this morning, almost lost my aim it hit me so hard. I still don't know if girls get pee shivers? Can someone please clarify? I asked this five years ago to an entire campus of people and no one answered. WTF?
Anyone feel like we are in a huge lull for good music lately? What's the last top to bottom good CD you've listened to? Mike is gonna say "Death Magnetic" but I'm not so sure about that. Kanye's is rough in some spots, the new All American Rejects is a disappointment and I can't even make myself listen to Fall Out Boy. Buckcherry's new one also blew chunks. I know this is a very limited sampling of music but I don't hear anything good on the radio either. Any suggestions? Don't say "listen to Extreme, it will change your life" because it won't. I need new music that is good.

The Meaning of Life

What happens to people when they get it all? Do they forget all of the pain and hard work it took to get where they are? Does money fix old wounds? Or have they just learned to live with the pain? I think I'd like to stay poor. Not half-ways poor, all the way. Comfort breeds complacency and that in turn breeds crap. Some ot the worst things in the world are created when people have too much time on their hands. Like meth, the teletubbies, and half-assed music. Some people can keep the pain inside of themselves. They can keep the hate for all of the people who have done them wrong. I will never stop hating the people who have hurt me, an I don't care if it eats me alive. There are worse ways to die then that. In the end, what can I really hope to accomplish with my life anyways? Kids? Some money? The respect of my fellow man? That's all I need is two brats who don't respect me, money made on the backs of others, and two-faced hypocrites who smile to my face and stab me in the back as soon as I turn around. Maybe that's what happens when you get it all. You realize the things and people you have around you now could hold the shit of the people who loved you when you were nothing. I'd like to stay nothing...at least it's something.

Random thoughts for Thursday

Is it pointless to write stuff in a blog if no one reads it? I'm not talking about our blog, which will have hundreds of reads a day, but there has to be thousands of people that write blogs out there and no one reads it at all. Maybe it is therapeutic or something, like a diary of your lonely life. Ok, here are three questions from Chuck Klosterman's book Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs that I have been dying to get peoples answers for.

1. Let us assume you met a rudimentary magician. Let us assume he can do five simple tricks-he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, he can make a coin disappear, he can turn the ace of spades into the Joker card, and two others in a similar vein. These are his only tricks and he can't learn any more; he can only do these five. HOWEVER, it turns out he's doing these five tricks with real magic. It's not an illusion; he can actually conjure the bunny out of the ether and he can move the coin through space. He's legitimately magical, but extremely limited in scope and influence. Would this person be more impressive than Albert Einstein?

2. Let us assume that a fully grown, completely healthy Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that-for some reason-every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel toed boots. Would you attempt to do this?

3. Let us assume that there are two boxes on a table. In one box, there is a relatively normal turtle; in the other, Adolf Hitler's skull. You have to select one of these items for your home. If you select the turtle, you can't give it away and you have to keep it alive for two years; if either of these parameters are not met, you will be fined $999 by the state. If you select Hitler's skull, you are required to display it in a semi-prominent location in you living room for the same amount of time, although you will be paid a stipend of $120 per month for doing so. Display of the skull must be apolitical. Which option do you select?

This is gonna rock!

Well, here it is. After much public demand and dozens of hunger strikes Pat and I have decided to bring back Things We've Noticed. Hopefully some of you remember our much maligned article that we wrote for the University Register way back when. It was edited horribly and they took out all of the cursing, but we had a great time writing it anyways. We had a pow-wow and decided that the world just isn't the same without us spewing forth our worthless thoughts on topics that people couldn't care less about, so we are back. Sometimes Pat will write (you'll be able to tell from the horrible spelling and broken English), sometimes I will write, and sometimes we'll try to mold our perverted thoughts together. I just wanted to get this initial post out there so everybody knows. FYI Kevin Ely sucks. He really does. I fucking hate that guy.