So...What have I been doing so far with my unemployment?

A couple things.

1) Most importantly, I've been applying to as many jobs as I can. I got a kind of crappy severance(I think), but if I can find a job before it runs out, that's money for a new road bike or a trip or a donation to St. John's.
2) Going to as many shows as I can. This week, I've been to three shows-all of them awesome.
3) Reading. I got a new translation of Don Quixote. It'll take me a while to read but it's very good.

later.

NaNoWriMo.org : Viewing profile


A buddy of mine finished a 50000 word novel in a month. Read his steaming pile of crap!

Dixieland Auroras


This is a nice little piece on auroras.

Well, I got laid off today.

Do any of you people out there need any help?

Theater Review | 'Lysistrata': The Greeks Had Many Words for Sex, and Here They Are


This was one of my favorite Greek comedies when I was in college-it looks like it's been reinterpreted.....Too bad I'm not in NY.

BBC NEWS | Europe | Lonely lives of Ukraine's HIV children

Fucking A.

Take a look at this-I copied it from a blog on salon.com-very worthwhile.

Scott Rosenberg's Links & Comment: "The Web site for Harpers has an unusual new design that builds on its extensive back catalog of magazine content in semantic-Web-ish ways. It's not a blog, exactly. Paul Ford, of Ftrain.com, who designed it, explains the ideas behind it here. He also suggests that the work that went into the site may well make its way into a new 'open-sourced content management system based on RDF storage.' This is interesting because, so far, though RDF has generated all sorts of interesting theory, real-world applications remain not very easy to explain, or even find. Anyway, this sort of site-overhaul is always tough, even when it's not as technically ambitious as what Harpers has done, so congratulations to all."

Harper's Index for January 2003 (Harpers.org): "Chances that a Rwandan woman raped during the 1994 genocide is now HIV-positive: 2 in 3 [Association of Widows of the Genocide (Rwanda)][Top]"

Harper's Index for August 1999 (Harpers.org): "Number of troops that could have prevented Rwanda's 1994 genocide, according to the head of U.N. forces there then: 5,000 [National Defense Headquarters (Ottawa, Canada)][Top]"

August 2009: How Google beat Amazon and Ebay to the Semantic Web (Ftrain.com)


This is one guy's idea on how the web will become more interconnected.....via symantec searches. He also redid the Harper Magazine web site. www.harpers.org

This talks about the idea of a minor's accountability for crime, etc.....

Why are we as a society so willing to treat children like adults?

Metromix.com: Jacko vs. Malvo: 2 cases, 1 double standard

I think I want this bike to be my new cycle, come spring.

Habanero Cross / Touring Bike Photo Page


only 247 days until ragbrai !

This is a whole gallery of them.


Spaceweather.com: November 2003 Aurora Gallery

A very beautiful aurora

Can you write a novel in a month?

Coach Gags honored at White House

Another SJU Football event-The school is being honored at the White House tomorrow

here's a link

Of course, I'll just pretent the one doing the honoring is actually Al Gore.

The Band That Can

I'm seeing GBV on Tuesday...I'm super pumped.

I had hoped to take a class this winter at the U.....and I was hoping that my employer would be willing to reimburse the cost for me. They will-and they support my continued education but they will only cover classes that will directly impact my job. Which means they will cover computer classes. Undergrad computer sci classes. What is my Bachelor's already in?

You guessed it. Computer Science.

This has been my worst week in years.

Thanks for caring!

Now we know what, exactly, to call my job

Tonight, I'm going to see this band-20 Miles

So I've had another interesting weekend:
1) Friday night I went Christmas shopping. I've got presents for most of the girls I know.
2) Saturday, I went and saw "Karl Denson's Tiny Universe" at First Avenue. On a related note, guess who now has a staff pass to any event there....yup, it's me.
3) Sunday, I went and had dinner with the family. Then I went to a "Get out the Vote" type meeting (the group's name is "The League of Pissed-Off Voters").
4) I got hit in my car, and it was totaled.

Yesterday, I got rid of my old car and got a new for-me car. It's the same year and model as the old one(a '90 Buick Lesabre), but this one is stop-sign red and only has 92,000 miles on it. It's got some of the same problems the old one used to have but fixing them should be easier the second time around.

King John Gagliardi


another awesome story.....it gives a great feeling for the man.

Bill Shatner and his big giant head


Say what you will about William Shatner-so long as you also say to know him is to love him.

The early sound still rocks on | csmonitor.com


This story reminds me of the film "Standing in the Shadows of Motown." Great film...I hope they make something like that out of this yearly event.

who knew that Muammar Gaddafi's son was a pro soccer player?

I didn't. It turns out he's a doper though. That's too bad.

SJU Sports - GO JOHNNIES.COM


another article about Gagliardi.

St John's-Family values


To people who aren't familiar with my whole St. John's affiliation, this gives a pretty good overview. While I wasn't on the football team per se (as I was too busy with the radio station), I still feel a great deal of love and loyalty to the guys on the team. A sense of family.

I figured posting this, several days after the coach of St John's tied Eddie Robinson's all time wins record, would help people understand how I feel about this place.

Build your own guitar! That sounds fun

EO Newsroom: New Images - Massive Solar Flare


Dude. This is awesome.

Laser Diagnostics


Wow. All in the name of science.

I always knew the BBC was different from most American media groups, but it seems as if it's pretty interesting.


BBC-About the BBC-How the BBC is run

Update of my recent activities:

1) I went and saw Jason Mraz. Twice. The first time I hated him, the second time, I liked him ok.
2) I didn't get the Flying V. I lost the bid, and really. I've got enough guitars to keep me happy.
3) Now I want a nice keyboard + midi module/sampler. We'll see if I'm willing to pony up the bucks for that. My guess on the outcome? I'll be too cheap.
4) I'm going to enroll, for fun, in a class at the U of M. Political Science-International Relations. Yup, I'm doing it for fun.

later.

This is too bad-I liked his stuff.

Elliott Smith Is Dead at 34

Oh. I turned 25 yesterday.

As I've been reminded by just about everyone(most of whom are several quarter centuries old), that's a quarter of a century! F-in geniuses.

Economist.com


Ugh oh. We're in trouble.

eBay item 2564491332 (Ends Oct-19-03 19:00:00 PDT) - Brand New 2003 Gibson Flying V - 100% MINT !


I'm a fool. I put a bid on this.

Siegfried + Roy + big shoulderpads + Tigger = FUNNY

But it also makes you think.

So, you mean all that crap purchased was a big waste? Silly hipsters.



Seductive Electronic Gadgets Are Soon Forgotten

No. 2 St. John's rolls past Carleton


Ha-effin'-ra.

I guess the last two movies of the Matrix series are going to be released as IMAX flicks.

The Matrix Revolutions: The IMAX Experience

there are so many things I'd like to do this year. Damn.

Boy. This sure sounds like a great idea.


Let's see how many other people we can get to catch AIDS. If there's a pool, I want 40 million!

OK-here's the deal. I'm going to sell my place-but I won't put it on the market until Spring/Summer. Why? First, I've got to keep the place for two years to avoid capitol gains tax. Second, I need to do some stuff to my place. Paint mostly, plus I'm going to put some tile into the entryway and kitchen(the kitchen has this really cheesy linoleum). Third is because I need to know what I want to move into a little better.

That's about all that's going on.

So...I think I'm going to sell my house. I think. I think I may buy the place listed below. Now the big question: can I find a real estate agent who isn't a complete slimeball? Most likely not.

why are so many crooks attracted to real estate? Oh yeah, it deals with a lot of money and not many lay people buy or sell homes often so they're vulnerable to them.

could this be my new house? maybe

This chick used to write for suck.com-now she's got a daily blog. Good shite.

"I'm a T-Shirt Hell T-Shirt Wearing Whore"

So, this fall one of my sister's friends is staying at my parent's place. Well, despite my better judgment (you'd think, based on the number of times my heart has been shattered, I'd have settled for being a Priest or something), I think she's really neat.

Last night, we talked for like 20 minutes about George Strait. I was in the 'rent's basement, listening to this live Dylan CD( the new Rolling Thunder Review 'official bootleg' ) and we got to talking.

Her name is Jennifer, she's graduating from college in December, whereupon she'll be a gym teacher, and she's both nice and a competitor. I think she's just super cute.

I'll keep you well informed about my impending heartbreak.....and if anybody's got a hint about dating a friend of a sister, let me know.

Why Women Do Not Wish the Suffrage - 03.09


A 100 year old Atlantic article....

bad things do happen to shitty broadcasters.


hooray!

Big Beaver!

I saw this quote on plastic.com, in reference to the death of Warren Zevon:

One of the best ways you know that you're getting old is when your heroes start dying on you.


Wow, is that right?

The Planet that Won't Go Away

Isn't all this stuff about Mars just the coolest? I think so.

I guess, now I can finally cut my hair.

Warren Zevon, Singer-Songwriter, Dies at 56

from hte NY Times:

Warren Zevon, Singer-Songwriter, Dies at 56
By JON PARELES

arren Zevon, a singer and songwriter who came up with hard-boiled stories and tender confessions of love, died on Sunday at his home in Los Angeles. He was 56.

The cause was cancer, which was diagnosed last summer.

Mr. Zevon had a pulp-fiction imagination that yielded songs like "Werewolves of London," "Poor, Poor Pitiful Me," "Lawyers, Guns and Money" and "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead." They were terse, action-packed, gallows-humored tales that could sketch an entire screenplay in four minutes and often had death as a punchline. But there was also vulnerability and longing in Mr. Zevon's ballads, like "Mutineer," "Accidentally Like a Martyr" and "Hasten Down the Wind."

Behind Mr. Zevon's stoic baritone, the music changed with its central instrument. His piano songs suggested marches, hymns and the harmonies of Aaron Copland, while his guitar songs connected rock, Celtic and country music .

Mr. Zevon made his last album, "The Wind" (Artemis), knowing that his time was running out. In August 2002, a week after deciding to start a new album, Mr. Zevon felt chest pains while exercising and eventually went to see a physician for the first time in 20 years.

A lifelong smoker, Mr. Zevon was diagnosed with mesothelioma, a type of tumor that can occur in the membranes around the lungs, that had advanced too far for treatment, and given a few months to live. He chose to work on the album, completed it and lived to see it released this year, on Aug. 26. In an interview last year, he said that the diagnosis had led to "the intensest creative period of my life."

Mr. Zevon was prized by other songwriters. Bob Dylan performed his songs on stage and appeared on "The Wind" along with Bruce Springsteen, Jackson Browne, Emmylou Harris, Ry Cooder and Dwight Yoakam. Mr. Springteen has described Mr. Zevon as writing about "the good, the bad and the ugly" and called him "a moralist in cynic's clothing."

Mr. Zevon was born in Chicago but grew up in Arizona and Los Angeles. His father, he said in an interview, was a Russian-Jewish gangster; his mother was a Mormon and often in fragile health. Mr. Zevon studied classical piano, idolizing composers like Stravinsky and Copland, and picked up guitar as a teenager. When his parents divorced, he drove a sports car his father had won in a card game to New York City to try to make it on the folk circuit.

But he had better luck in Los Angeles, where he formed the duo Lyme and Cybelle with a friend, Tule Livingstone, and began getting his songs heard. The Turtles made one of his songs, "Like the Seasons," the B side of the hit single "Happy Together," providing royalties that paid his rent for years.

Mr. Zevon's first album, "Wanted Dead or Alive," was released in 1969 and widely ignored. He worked around Los Angeles, writing commercial jingles and leading the Everly Brothers' backup band. And he made his way into the coterie of songwriters, among them Jackson Browne and J.D. Souther, that was bringing new depth to the California soft-rock of the mid-1970's.

Linda Ronstadt chose "Hasten Down the Wind" to be the title song of her 1976 album, the same year that Jackson Browne produced Mr. Zevon's major-label debut album, "Warren Zevon." Two years later, Mr. Zevon's album "Excitable Boy" reached the Top 10 with its own hit single, "Werewolves of London." He was married and divorced twice in the 1970's and 1980's, and had two children, Jordan and Ariel. They survive him along with two grandchildren. Jordan Zevon was the executive producer of "The Wind."

Success brought pressure and temptations, and Mr. Zevon succumbed: taking drugs and alcohol, toting a gun, losing control onstage. "I ran around like a psychotic," he said.

He made no albums between 1982 and 1987, and spent time in rehab. He considered alcoholism "a coward's death," he said in 1981. And he re-emerged to a steady, well-respected career. He toured and made albums that included "Transverse City" in 1989, "Mr. Bad Example" in 1991, "Mutineer" in 1995 and "Life'll Kill Ya" in 2000.

Members of R.E.M. backed Mr. Zevon on his 1987 album "Sentimental Hygiene"; other songs they recorded together were released under the name of Hindu Love Gods in 1990. In the early 1990's, Mr. Zevon also wrote theme songs and scores for television series — "Tales from the Crypt," "Route 66," "Tekwar" — and he was a frequent guest bandleader on "Late Night with David Letterman."

When he was diagnosed with cancer, Mr. Zevon was the first to recognize that songs like "My Ride's Here," about a hearse, had become self-fulfilling prophecies. "I keep asking myself how I suddenly was thrust into the position of travel agent for death," he said last year. "But then, of course, the whole point of why it's so strange is that I had already assigned myself that role so many years of writing ago." He allowed a camera crew from VH1 to make a documentary during the recording sessions.

"The Wind" has death-haunted songs like "Prison Grove" and "Keep Me in Your Heart," as well as a version of Mr. Dylan's song about a dying sheriff, "Knockin' on Heaven's Door." But songs like "Disorder in the House" and "My Dirty Life and Times" maintain Mr. Zevon's old sardonic humor. While he was recording the album, Mr. Zevon said he was planning to write goodbyes to people and to make one other point: that, he said, "This was a nice deal: life."

Look, I know I'm not perfect. I need a haircut, shave, and to improve my Sears-level wardrobe.

But I'm also not a complete looser. Once I stop fearing you, I can engage in some wonderful conversation. I know a lot about getting pulled over by police officers. I know a lot of funny anecdotes about old people. I've got some great bike-riding stories(well, they're great if you like riding bikes at least). And I can even discuss books, movies, and recent events. In fact, with these skills I'd say I'm WAY above par, once you get over the ugliness.

So if any of you would like to get it on, give me a call.
763-458-9654

thanks for your time.

'Before Sunrise' Sequel

I guess they're making a sequel to one of my favorite movies...I hope it doesn't suck.

Wow-what a great weekend. On Friday night, I intended to go to a friend of mine's concert...but I guess I never made it that far.

Instead I went to a birthday party for this girl I know a little bit. It was a good time, but we (Joey, Eric Churchill-who was in town for the day, and Jordan-who will be in town for the next few weeks) left and we went to a house party. That lasted until 4am, and then I went home.

Saturday, I took the old man to see the Kevin Cosner film-it was ok. Then I rented 'Standing in the Shadows of Motown.' Excellent. I watched a few times. The general flow of the documentary was they got the backing band for Detroit-era Motown, and got them to tell their story(fyi-ONE BAND played on everything from Marvin Gaye's 'Let's get it On' to the Supremes' 'Momma told Me'). Then they had guest vocalists sing some songs with them. They had Joan Osborne sing a few with them, and she was incredible.

Sunday, we(my old man and I) measured out my brake lines so we could more easily replace them in the next few weeks. I was suprised how easy that went. Hopefully replacing them will also be pretty easy.

Har Har. Funny Doonesbury, about blogging.

I bet none of you will guess what happened to me this weekend.....


I got hit by a this car when I was cycling around my parent's place on Sunday. I'm pretty much ok, so is my bike, and so is the car (and the girl who was driving it). But I've learned several things:

Cops, Coon Rapids Porkers at least, suck ass. After the incident, I called the police to get them to send a squad out to check me out and everything. Well, even though it's clear I'm fine, she's fine, and the bike is fine, they give me a fine. Personally, I'd like them to shred the whole thing-I've had worse falls from a bike than this. But because there was an accident report filed we have to appear before court. They, the Coon Rapids prosecutors, say that they might let it slide then.

I am really glad I don't live in Coon Rapids anymore. The place is a strip mall hell.

well, I did the Iowa bike trip. The milage ended up being about 470 miles, and my average speed was about 13 miles an hour (when I rode alone-my sis also went, and when I rode with her, I went much slower).

A couple interesting things happened.

1) The team I rode with was named "The Loons." Which, as you might guess (or not), ment that we had to have cloth loon heads put on our helmets. They looked......stylin'. Oh yeah.

2) Howard Dean, the presidental candidate, rode the ride a little bit. Check out the reference in this slate article.

3) Next year, after ragbrai, I'm going to ride France. I bought a tourbook today. This is a sure thing. Does anyone want to help me pay for it?

4) I decided I'd keep looking for a new house. The old people are too much.

that's it. oh, today I bought the new Jane's Addiction record...I'm kinda pumped.

later!

Well, tomorrow I'm riding my bike across Iowa again. Why? Because I can't think of anything better to do.

How many miles is it this year? 450 exactly.
How many feet of climb? 16100 feet.
How much am I going to hurt by the end? A lot.

I got my George Bush tax cut today. How much was it? $10 a paycheck.

I'm so very glad we squandered my future well-being for it. I can't wait when the day will come, because of the underperformance of my 401k, I'll be a poor senior citizen who won't be able to affort heat, medicine, etc. And the govt will be so broke it won't be able to prevent me from freezing in my apartment.

If you can't tell from this post and the previous, I'm having a shitty day. And my car is broken. And the old people I share my condo building with are just killing me (there is a chance that they'll pass a rule that will disallow me from parking my bike in my parking spot-which is about all it's good for).

I feel like a doer robot.

Sorry I haven't updated in a while-for the most part, the last few weeks have been kind of boring.

Although I have managed to do a few exciting things:
1) I read Kurt Vonnigut's "Breakfast of Champions." Decent book...but definately a guy thing.
2) I don't think I'm dating the nurse girl anymore. I don't think we really have anything in common.
3) I had dinner with a few friends last night at my place. I bbq'd them some steak. And they yelled at my neighbors, pissing them off until 10pm. That kind of bothered me.
4) I went to a party on Friday night. It was a housewarming party.
5) I discovered Linie's Berryweiss is the bomb.
6) Apparently one of my friends is planning on proposing to his girlfriend around Christmas.

That's it.

an interesting report on the history of the US Govm't, Baby boomers, the GDP, and consumerism.

check this link.

I finally made some cookies for this girl I think I'm sort of dating.

What type of cookies? Orange shortbread with chocolate chips.

What do you mean, think you are "sort of dating?" Because I haven't seen her in a month since she's working at a summer camp for kids with cancer(she's a nurse)....and I don't really understand her motivation for me.

Make sure you check out the PICTURE FROM SPACEEEEEEE for today. It's really awesome. And make sure you view their movie.

So I don't know if anyone has noticed but I've had this thing for over a year now.

What have I learned? How has my life changed?

1) I've lived in the same place all this time, but now I feel a little less over my head financially.
2) I think I understand my own goals better-and I'm closer to actually achieving them ( primarily educational goals-I've got over a grand stashed away for more classes ).

I'll add to this list as I think of more.

Did you know Kim Gordon was a music video director( She directed The Breeders' Divine Hammer and Cannonball) and a writer?

What a babe.

Question:
Is it unnatural for a straight man to love another man, should that other man happen to be Paul McCartney?

Answer:
No.


On a related note, the new Sonic Youth album "Murray Street" just plain blows away anything I've heard in a long time. That band has it going on! And, as proof of my heterosexuality, Kim Gordon is really hot. And I bet she's really nice and smart too.

Yeah, I had a really exciting weekend. I did some bikin' and some relaxin' and I did some estate sale buyin'. But I also had time to get listed as a missing person back home.

My parents freaked out when they couldn't get ahold of me for a few days (apparently, they say I didn't tell them I was going up north) so they had Edina Police break into my condo and start calling all the people on my cell phone list(which I forgot at my place).

Interesting, eh? I'll update with more info when the milk stops coming out of my nose ('cause, you know, I'm laughing so hard).

I'm going up to Alexandria this weekend to do some bike riding/relaxation. It should be fun.

I've also sent in my final check for RAGBRAI, so all you loyal readers can again read my road wisdon. To read what I wrote last year check out my entries from the last week and a half of July 2002.

I'm going to give the condo association one more chance-it was suggested to me that I should offer to install a new quiet bathroom fan(one of Hitler's choosing) if they'll buy it. This will solve this problem, hopefully. All that remains is the noise from the stove range hood noise, door opening noise, and of course the tv/music noise.

But to be honest I think I'd like to move into a real house by next May or June so I don't have to deal with this crap ever again.

And I'd recommend that anyone who is looking to buy a condo-DON'T. It a big problem that will complicate your life.

I hate my fucking old people.

Last night the bitch from hell complained to the Condo President(Heil Hitler!), and he came to give me a talk about my bathroom fan. Again, this year my bathroom fan is actually *MUCH* to loud to actually use.

I'm going to move. I can't deal with this shit.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

this is fucking funny.

In case you didn't get it, Einstein didn't quite spell moron correctly.

But maybe that's not that big a deal-our president most likely can't spell it either.

I new space photo from yahoo-it's a picture of the Earth and the Moon, taken from Mars. But check out the really cool bit from Carl Sagen:

...in 1990, as NASA's unmanned Voyager 1 spacecraft reached the fringes of the solar system, it turned back to take a final look at Earth at the suggestion of astronomer Carl Sagan. The image, taken from 4 billion miles away, inspired the title of Sagan's 1994 book "A Pale Blue Dot."

"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives," Sagan wrote.


Awesome quote, eh?

I read today that 5,000 to 10,000 Iraqi civilians may have died during the war.

the bad stuff is gone! I guess all I needed to to was to repost.

If you can't tell, I did some fiddling with my page template. I added a small link section, then I also just kinda fiddled with the loop that iterates through my post. Well, it appears as if I've left some debugging stuff in here-like the text "Does this work?" listed before every post. Sorry about that. I'll get it fixed asap

I got this off of a friend's site: Jar-Jar in Middle Earth!

On the 8th and 9th of June, Yo La Tengo plays at first ave. Are your there God? It's me, Mike. Don't let me forget!
And, Oh God, please let me never make a reference to the book "Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret." I hate that book.

Thinking back, reading that was where things all started to go wrong for me.

meet Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch!

I'm sure some of you have heard of the Christian Science Monitor-here's a link to a discussion they had with the President of the AFL-CIO: http://www.csmonitor.com/2003/0514/p25s03-usmb.html .

dude. check out the new space station picture of the day. Awesome.

before I forget-yesterday evening, as I was riding by bike down hennepin avenue, I passed a segway. It sure looked cool, until I passed it on my bike ('cause, you know, I'm so fast....and I'm cheaper than a segway).

so what I'm really saying is that if you want to ride something that goes faster than a segway, farther than a segway, cheaper than a segway, and is even more limited edition than a segway, just ask to sit on my lap as I ride. yup.

new space station picture of the day . Enjoy.

Good mother's day weekend....but at some point I need to discuss my dreams.

Last Thursday night, I had a dream where I was the person I convicted when I was in jury duty. Unsettling, to say the least. I think my dream was of during the trial...which means I was in my own dream, to some extent. That's kind of weird, I think.

On Saturday night, I had a dream where I was having a meal with my now deceased Grandfather....it was in the nursing home where he spent his final 4 or 5 years, but he was as I remember him when I was young-he still had both of his legs, and he was able to hold a whole conversation (or at least as well as he could at that time-he was never a great talker). It was nice.

For Mother's Day, my Family and I took my mother out to brunch at this place named Billy's in Anoka.

For my father's 50th birthday, on Saturday we took him to Gustov's, in NE Minneapolis. He loved it. He even sang along to all the polka songs. Come to think of it, so did I :-).

That's about it.

Pete Townshend was cleared of kiddy porn stuff this week, thank God.

So I went out for the third time on Wednesday night with this really cute nurse that I met. Her name is Niki. She's nice. Thus far, she's returned my emails, my phone calls, she's seems fun to be around, she's principled, she's smart, her perspective on the world is different from mine, she's responsible, and a number of things I don't have time to list here, as well as a number of things I don't know about her yet.

Now, all I'm left fretting if she'll think enough of me to keep this thing going.

At the same time, this girl I worked with for about a year named Kelly has been avoiding my few emails(like 4 in the last month). All I ever wanted was to be her friend, but it looks like it's not mutual. And it's just making me feel like shit in general-maybe even coloring my perspective with this Niki girl.

God, I'm so bad at rejection. Even when it doesn't really matter.

You know what? I'm scratching the whole thing. They don't even have to remind me if Nia Vardalos. But they do have to be nice.

well, I'm going to mitigate my earlier statement.

If they remind me of Nia Vardalos, of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," I'll still lust for them. I saw it this weekend and it had me feeling like a shy smitten 16 year old who just happens to own their own house and car(like Doogie Howser, except dumber).

Ugh. I think I'm going to give up on girls until I'm like 30.

I think I'm going to try and do the MS 150 bike ride in June. June 6-8.

It should be a nice little ride to warm up for RAGBRAI.

We found the guy guilty-it was just so obvious that he did it.

I'll have to say that the experience was quite interesting, although a little stressful. I also have to say it makes me think that the law may be the thing for me. Maybe.

I came in to work today. For all the stress of having to decide if a person is guilty or not, I'll have to say this shit is much more so. Maybe it's the environment....maybe it's the tasks. I don't know.

Last night I went and saw 'Pedro the Lion' at First Ave. This is the second time I've seen him, and although it wasn't as good a show as the first time it was still pretty good. I ended up going with this girl I went out with last week-I don't know exactly what will happen, but I have the feeling that my ugliness will again prevent me from finding love. Damn that puss-filled hump! Anyway, her name is Niki Schultz, she's a nurse, and she's nice. She's also pretty fine.

I'm trying to get her to go with me next week to a poetry slam or maybe do something else. We'll see.

I've been on jury duty for the last week and a day. The case I've gotten has been a First Degree Sexual Assault. The person assaulted? A four year old girl. The person charged with the crime? The girl's great grandfather.

The case is in deliberation so I'm not done with it, but let me say this(which may help if you think your family is a piece of shit): my family isn't nearly as fucked up as I might think. And chances are neither is yours.

Stay tuned for an update when deliberation is over.

oh. my. God.

who whould have thought?

I kinda felt bad about the little turd yesterday. Until he was forced to wash my car. Then I was impressed by how shiny it was!

Last night I reported to my parents what my shithead brother had done. I even told them about the pot and booze.

My reasoning ended up being that he had done such a half assed cleanup job, he deserved it.

NARC!

I'm torn about what to do. Last night, as I arrived at my parents house from a party at Matt's(I had agreed to housesit while they were out of town), I walked in on a little(30 odd people) party my little brother was throwing. Pot. Booze. 17 year olds. My brother, stoned. Destruction and damage galore. Plus the little shits that were here got into some of my music gear I keep here. Little fucks.

In a way, I feel kind of envious of my brother. I never had the balls to throw a secret drug+drink party at my parent's house when I was in high school. But mostly I feel pretty pissed that my brother would put me in this position-where I have to choose between protecting him from what will surely be a harsh punishment and acting as my parent's trusted proxy.

I think I'll turn him in. His little friends ended up causing serious damage to a sliding door, taking it off it's track. Plus, the clean up was really horseshit.

I could change my mind. They'll get home tomorrow, and I might flip.

Oh. Blue Thunder got broken into on Wednesday night, as it's emanciated hulk sat in front of my parents house. So I guess we'll end up donating it to some charity/mob front.

this is a link to a daily picture.....from.....space

every day, NASA puts up a new picture from the space station. It's really awesome, usually. Today, it's a picture of three stars in the constellation Orion, as their light goes through the Earth's atmosphere.

a couple of days ago it was the prettiest picture of the Northern Lights(taken from ssspppaaccceeee).

Something to check out.

My blue Chevy Corsica, "Blue Thunder," has been declared to be terminally ill. Again. This time for good.

It appears as if some transmission bearings are going. We can't fix it without removing the engine. And in that particular car, it's pretty tough to pull the engine. So now I'm on the hunt for a new car. Something cheap. Something less than $15 a day.

Senator Patrick Moynihan died yesterday. Here's a link to a pretty good obit from the New York Times.

this is a cool link to the bbc-they've basically got a blog that all their reporters are logging to regarding the war.

On Saturday, my family is going to have a big dinner for my cousin, who is going to Iraq. He's set to leave (to a US camp for a refresher course in training) a week or so from now.

Hopefully, if all is well, he won't be in Iraq in time to fight.

I found out my cousin, an army reservist, has been called up. No word from the family grapevine where he's going to be put.

Due to my illness, I was able to catch the press conference with Bush, Blair, and the Spanish PM and the Portaguese PM. It was interesting to listen to Bush speak-as a whole, the speech he put out was pretty confusing. But, when I watched the news last night, they broke it up into 6 second sound bites. Which made me realize-the guy is trained to speak in those 6 seconds-and he's incapable of carrying on a sustained, long thought with proof and valid arguements. He's only capable of cowboy logic.

Notice I didn't say 'cowboy diplomacy'-that's a star trek phrase, and I wouldn't want to dirty anything Spock might have uttered once upon an episode.

I was sick all weekend. A little bit of a temp, a nice scratchy throat, and some nice green mucus. But I did manage to go on a nice bikeride Saturday-it was pretty nice. The only thing that prevented it from being perfect were all the farckin' people who were walking/running on the bike trails-which made my ride very stop and go. But I don't blame them. The walking paths were generally under water or ice.

this is a really cool essay from the CSM-
here's the link, but in case they take it down at some point, here it is:

Uh-oh, the places we'll go!
By Susan E. Omar
"Can you imagine?" my dad would say, and then we knew our family was about to move - again. A former high school dropout and runaway, my dad had turned his life around and married his childhood sweetheart. When the Korean War broke out, he had developed a talent for mechanical drafting and got a job in Colorado. He talked about his life from that point on as if it were a hero's journey. "Can you imagine?" he said when he told Mother about the new job. "They're going to pay me to go to school!"

John Kennedy delivered his "Ask not ..." speech, and I was just starting second grade when Dad announced an opportunity for a career change. He was going to work as an aerospace engineer, fulfilling his dream to be part of the space program. "Can you imagine? We're being transferred to South Dakota!" Then he began to list all the things we'd get to do: camping in the Black Hills; a visit to Mount Rushmore; a trip to Deadwood City where Wild Bill Hickock and Calamity Jane made history.
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I'm told that when he took me to a dinosaur dig in the Badlands outside Rapid City, S.D., I pointed to a worker and said solemnly, "That's what I'm going to do when I grow up." Dad answered, "Honey, you can do anything you want. I'm the living proof."

It was the summer before I started fourth grade when Dad was promoted again and we moved to a suburb of Little Rock, Ark. One night after the move, I was taking a walk with him, telling him about my new friend who liked Nancy Drew mysteries as much as I did. We stopped under a huge sweet gum tree to watch fireflies sparkle in the humid air around us. "Did you ever imagine we'd live in a place as beautiful as this?" he asked me.

We were still reeling from the Kennedy assassination when Dad came home, saying once again, "Can you imagine?" He hugged my mother. "They're going to pay me to move to California." But when I listened to them talk happily far into the night as if California were the Promised Land, I wanted to cry. I didn't want to move again. I loved my Girl Scout troop, and I was in the breathless throes of my first crush.

I was very sad when we packed again and began the long car trip west. We rolled into Arizona on New Year's Eve. Dad's car developed engine trouble and it had to be towed to what Mother's stories would refer to later as "a wide place in the road."

Yes, the gas-station owner said, he could fix the problem, but he'd need a part from Tucson, and he was closing for the holiday. He suggested we check into the dingy motel next door (which his sister operated). He told us that if we needed groceries, we'd better get them soon, because his brother-in-law was also closing until after the New Year's celebration.

I grumbled when I noticed the motel pool was cracked and drained. Dad really tried to cheer me up, offering to buy me a comic book - or even two comic books. But I wanted my Nancy Drew mysteries, now packed into a moving van somewhere. He said I could have a soft drink from the motel vending machine, but all that was left was orange soda, and I told anybody within hearing distance how much I hated orange soda.

Mother, tired and stressed, gave me two choices: I could shut up, or she could slap me. Dad and I were shocked that my genteel mother had said "shut up." When Dad suggested a walk, I quickly followed him out the door.

The silhouettes of the saguaro cactus looked like eerie giants with curved prickly arms. When we started to walk away from the lights of the "town," I mentioned to Dad the possibility of running into rattlesnakes.

"We'll stay on the pavement," he said, and kept walking. He was quiet, the way he got when he was thinking or praying. After a while he said, "You know, California is a wonderful place. Can you imagine-"

But I cut him off. "I don't want to move to California!" I wailed. "I want to be with my friends. I don't want to be the new kid anymore."

Dad nodded, but he didn't say anything else until we started back to the motel. Then he said suddenly, "Did I tell you about the ocean?" I let out an exasperated sigh. "During certain seasons," he continued, ignoring me, "there are tiny animals in the water that light up when the waves roll up on the beach at night."

I thought about this. "Like fireflies?" I asked.

"Sort of like fireflies, except underwater. And the beaches," he said. "Can you imagine a place so warm you can swim in the winter?"

We walked along in silence.

"And I'll tell you something else," he said. "They have boats with glass bottoms."

"Glass bottoms?" I asked.

"Yep, so you can see the fish that swim under the boat."

Now that was something to try to imagine.

"And then, of course," he said softly, "there's Disneyland."

So I spent New Year's Day in a dusty little motel with no pool, drinking orange pop. I watched the parade on TV and flipped through the comic books. Mother and I were friends again. I was in a better frame of mind, wondering how a boat could have a glass bottom. Wouldn't it break?

We arrived in California a couple of days after New Year's, and we never moved out of state again. We rode in a glass-bottom boat and we marveled at plankton-lit ocean waves. We went to the beach year round and I discovered the dinosaur fossil collection at the Rancho La Brea Tar Pits.

A few years after Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, I enrolled in a college close to home, studied paleontology and archaeology, and began a life that did not include moving every few years. I visited ancient ruins in Mexico and pyramids in Egypt, though; and when I returned to recount my own hero's tales, my dad would listen intently.

At the story's end, he'd smile, nudge Mother, and ask, "Can you imagine?"

well, some good news-Pete Townshend has been cleared of kiddie porn charges. Thank God.

Oh, I really didn't see any shows last weekend. All I ended up doing was go to the Poetry slam. Horton Heat was sold out and Greazy Meal, though I was interested, no one else was. And I wasn't interested in going alone.

This weekend-we're supposed to have temps in the 60s and I plan on going bike riding.

I think this weekend is the official 'Michael Kohout Concert Weekend'- friday night, there is a poetry slam at the First Ave VIP room (MC'd by Meghan), Saturday, Greazy Meal are reuniting for a series of shows(at the Cabooze), and the Reverend Horton Heat is playing at the 7th Street Entry.

cool. We'll see how many of the shows I'll actually get to see.

Last night I went grocery shopping after the gym. It was my intention to buy the components of a favorite breakfast staple of mine-rice with raisins, and getting out of there spending less than $6. So I needed to buy some milk and some raisins.

Now-I didn't want to buy too much milk. I don't drink that much anymore, and I figured I wouldn't need more than a half gallon. Any more and it would most likely go bad in my fridge.

Well, a half gallon of milk costs almost as much as a gallon. Which sucks. And a gallon costs only a $1.50 less than 2 gallons. So I end up buying 2 gallons.

Which leads me to a state of semi-panic as I walk through the store. What am I going to do with the extra gallon? Should I bring it to work and donate it to the group there? Should I take it to my parent's house on Sunday, and give it to them? No, I decide, as I pass the jell-o isle. No, I shall make pudding. And I then buy two gallons of milk($4.50), a bag of raisins($2.75), and five packages of pudding(one pistaschio, one chocolate, one vanilla, two butterscotch-I really like butterscotch) for about $4.

So I spend about double what I expected. I was very disappointed in myself when I got home. So I made myself some pudding to feel better. And I did.

FIN

is it ok to be 24 years old and be really sad Mr Rogers died?

What a wonderful human being

here's a link.

I owe my parents $400 for car parts, for my shitbox car. So that I can get to my shitbox job( which I gripe about on my shitbox blog). Which doesn't pay me enough to maintain my shitbox life or shitbox car.

See how this works? Hoorah!

Kobe Bryant scored 40 points in a game last night. Is it me, or is he the most smug piece of shit you've ever seen? I really like Shaq and KG, but whenever I see Kobe I get the feeling that he's barely holding back his laughter. The laughter of the joy of being a multi-millionare by the time you're 19.

Yes, indeed, I am a great son. Saturday and Sunday, I spent a great deal of time and effort on my Mother's birthday present. I got her a new waffle iron, and yesterday morning I went over to their place to make her and my family waffles.

I looks like it's been a while since I made an update. A lot is going on-

My car is in the throws of death. My Pops and I replaced some wheel bearings, but now it just threw a spark plug, stripping the thread from the head. But, due to the current economic status of the Michael Kohout household, I don't think I have the option of getting a new car right now. So we're going to fix it. Either we'll get a new head or we'll try to put in a new screw thread.

I read a whole book. I ended up buying 'About a Boy,' the book by Nick Hornby. I read it in two days...nice book. Today I ordered 'High Fidelity' from Amazon. Till then, I've dug out some old Mark Twain-right now I'm reading 'The Guilded Age.'

At the end of last month I helped a bunch of friends move into their new places. That sucked. For how much they told me not to worry about them spilling shit all over my new carpet (which I own, and don't rent, unlike them), they weren't afraid to tell me to keep their new, rented carpet spotless. Fucking assholes. Well, they aren't that bad. And I'm not nearly so mad at them for (potentially) runing my carpet (as I decided I want to replace it with a wood floor) as it was for them to move out to Oakdale. Which is all the way on the other side of the fucking city. Which makes it really hard to hang out.

And on a good note I went to a poetry slam where Meghan performed. She did good, and I had a good time.

So that's that. Later.

sometimes, it's funny what or who people attach themselves to.
Such as Elvis, or Dolly Parton
In the linked story, from the New York Times Magazine:

In 1997, Ms. Parton disbanded her fan club and asked its former members to send their money to her favorite charities instead. Patric Parkey, 45, and Harrell Gabeheart, 43, of Irving, Tex., took seriously her call to give. Each year they attend charity auctions endorsed by Ms. Parton, where they bid on memorabilia to add to the collection that fills their 1,400 square-foot home — "every room, floor to ceiling, wall to wall," Mr. Parkey said. Among their greatest treasures: one of Ms. Parton's license plates, one of her wigs and a Dolly Parton pinball machine. The men are considering moving their bedroom into the garage to make room for more.
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Having photos of the star all over their house, Mr. Gabeheart said, "brings out the best in both of us."

"It's kind of hard to look at her all the time and not get closer to one another, because she teaches about family values and being supportive of one another," he added.

One weekend in December, when Ms. Parton gave three concerts at Dollywood to raise money for her nonprofit Imagination Library, which gives books to young children, Mr. Parkey and Mr. Gabeheart realized a long-held dream. They had a private visit with Ms. Parton. The meeting, which they won at a benefit auction for the Boys and Girls Club in Sevierville, Tenn., was scheduled to last five minutes but ran to about 20. They said Ms. Parton had chatted on their cell phone with their hairdresser, signed one of the porcelain dolls they make in her image and looked at photographs from their collection. "She told us, `All you need is my panties and drawers,' " Mr. Gabeheart said. "But we don't want that. That's too personal."

Mr. Parkey said he wanted Ms. Parton to know that "we're fans, but we're not hysterical fans." He added, "I didn't want her to think, `Oh, God, there's two more crazies.' "

Mr. Gabeheart looks forward to seeing her again: "I don't think we'll have a problem meeting her in the future. Because the people that are around her know who we are now."

Another fan who's known by Ms. Parton and her people is David Schmidli, 33, of Huntsville, Ala. For Mr. Schmidli, who has cerebral palsy, Ms. Parton is quite literally the alpha and omega: his mother, Jo-Ann, 72, teaches him to spell by using words drawn from Ms. Parton's song titles and lyrics. Each day he awakens at 3:30 a.m. to scour the Web for news of Ms. Parton, then feeds his German Shepherd, named Sparkles Dolly Parton, before going to his job as a tester at a computer manufacturing facility. During the holidays, he invites his co-workers home to show them his Christmas tree covered with 400 homemade ornaments, each decorated with Ms. Parton's picture.

Mr. Schmidli also sharpens his dexterity by making needlepoint tissue box covers and fly swatter covers bearing Ms. Parton's image (with angel wings). When he presents these items to her each April at the park's opening day, Mrs. Schmidli says, "She's as kind and as good as she can be."

"She looks down from on high on her float," Mrs. Schmidli said, "and she says, 'I love you, too, David.' "

Ms. Parton's status as an emblem of possibility is magnified in her hometown. "She's as big as a star can get," explained Judge Gary R. Wade, 54, of the Tennessee Court of Criminal Appeals. He was two years behind Ms. Parton at Sevier County High School. "If there's a kid who has any talent at all here in town," he continued, "you can point to Dolly Parton and say, `She came from here, and that means anything can happen, to anyone who works for it."

Dave Anderson, 44, special events director at Dollywood, said that Ms. Parton's fame had a similar effect on employees of the theme park. "It's exciting to say you work for Dollywood, for Dolly Parton," he said. "I've never worked for anybody that's been on `Letterman' to talk about me, even indirectly."

Most Dollywood employees have little personal contact with Ms. Parton. She makes public appearances at the park twice a year and attends private business meetings there about four times a year. But in December, for the first time since 1998, Ms. Parton posed for photographs with groups of employees.

On a rainy Friday morning, about a thousand Dollywood staffers gathered in the park's Showstreet Palace theater. When Ms. Parton bounded to center stage in five-inch heels, they erupted in cheers and applause. "What in the world you doin' out in the rain this time of mornin'?' she teased. `I know! You come out cause you're crazy. She tossed her head and laughed, pulling strands of her wig from her mouth. "And I got my hair caught in my lip gloss! Just know that I love you and I appreciate you," she said.

She stood aside as a Dollywood employee told the crowd, "You know the drill: no coats, no cameras, no bags, nothin' to be autographed." For the next hour, Ms. Parton walked back and forth between bleachers on either side of the stage, posing with groups of 10 to 30 employees at a time. When the last picture had been taken, she hollered a down-home "Thank you!" and turned on her heel with queenly efficiency; an assistant covered her shoulders with a woolen cape that billowed as she strode offstage.

For Ms. Parton's admirers, the paradoxes of her persona — artificial and authentic, ambitious and altruistic, distant and down-to-earth — hang together. And with her, they experience a kind of intimacy that is all the more powerful for being composed largely of illusion.

"A lot of times my fans don't come to see me be me," she said. "They come to see me be them. They come to hear me say what they want to hear, what they'd like to say themselves, or to say about them what they want to believe is true."

Ms. Parton evaluated these illusions in terms that were by turns critical, empathic and pragmatic: "I've often wondered if it's healthy for some of these people to depend on me that much, to where people live through you and don't live their own lives. It's like when people say, `I'm in love,' when they're really in lust. They call so many things love. I spend a lot of time thinking about stuff like that in the wee hours. But I think it's healthier for those people to have something to look forward to than to not. If they've got a show to look forward to or a record to look forward to, it might keep them from doing something bad to themselves or to somebody else. Or give 'em something more to do than just dwelling on themselves so much. I don't know. I just know I love the fans. I appreciate 'em. I love what I do. So I guess we'll all be at it for a long time to come."


Why do these people feel this closeness with people like Dolly or Elvis? Do they so lack love in their lives that this is the only kind they get? It's sad, but certainly less sad than this from Rolling Stone.

I think I've seen everything.

Yesterday, I heard a jazz version of 'Detroit Rock City,' the KISS song.

I can now die in peace.

last night, while I was baking a cake for someone I watched the reshowing of the 'Joe Millionare' program.

I can understand it'a appeal, although it's not my bag. All the girls in it remind me of my sister. Not that I don't love my sister, but 20, then 12, then 5 are too many of them.

Plus the dude was an idiot.

honey, do you know where you left the plague?

funny shit. too bad it's real.

I feel soo guilty for not updating this lately-but really, nothing has been going on. I've been working, going to the gym, had a new years party(which went well-we played marco polo in the pool, played drinka-the drinking version of jenga, exchanged x-mas gifts)...that's about it.

The only think that is going on this week is I've got a birthday party to go to( I've got a killer cake recipe ).