Sunday, July 30, 2006

I'm addicted to Gas-X

I can't not not have gas at this point.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

Lady in the Water

As soon as the first person he said "Narf" to knew EXACTLY what he was talking about, I knew, that this was going to be the GREATEST MOVIE EVER.

And it was. It was the GREATEST MOVIE EVER. There's nothing more fun than trying to explain the plot of this movie to someone who hasn't watched it, and not start laughing. GREATEST MOVIE EVER. Everyone MUST watch this movie. Now. Go. Go watch it. You owe it to me to have this movie in your brain for the rest of your life. You'll be better for it.

GREATEST MOVIE EVER.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Always remember

It's F.C.U., or I.C.U.

If you can get that reference, you're watching as much obscure television as me.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Kneel Before Zod

Zod 2008 - General Zod - 2008 Presidential Candidate

Because I don't get enough Zod-related items to post around here.

Serving size

How do they determine the suggested serving sizes for shit that's not even slightly good for you? Sure, a lot of Nerds Rope is bad for you, but so is a little, so where do you draw the line?

I'm serious, I'm waiting for answer.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Always too hot, never too cold, you take your best shot

It seems like just yesterday that the Good Gentleman and I were young guns on a bus being harassed by a guy who was telling us the virtues of Hacksaw Jim Duggan. Now I look in the mirror and see the crows feet and think "Damn...that's one good looking man." Actually, I've been too busy being hot because of the weather rather than my own good looks to bother admiring myself lately. I got to spend a weekend babysitting my 2 year old nephew, the Max, who was crabby about being stuck inside all weekend. It's hard to rationalize with a young fellow like him about why he can't go outside.

"But it's too hot for you to be outside."

"Kick ball, Bri! Kick ball, Bri! Shoes? Shoes? Shoes?"

"No Max, it's too hot."

"Shoes! Outside! Kick ball, Bri! Run, Bri! Run!"

And then I bribe him with a pop tart. Just like all my negotiations end.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

oreo pie, my ass

Don't be shoving some pie with Oreo cookie crumbs as a crust and whip cream as the pie filling at me and call it an Oreo pie. No sir, I want the filling to be completely the cream from the Oreo cookie, not some fluffy cream substitute. All Oreo cream, or I kick your ass. Kick it so hard.

Or better yet, make it like that, with Fudgee-Os.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

wiggie's adventures at the Metrodome

The Metrodome deserves to be mentioned at my shanty town, because it wouldn't be out of place at a shanty town.

Let's get back to the start before we get started.

The Metrodome is the big baseball/football stadium in Minneapolis. I, wiggie, live in a suburb of Minneapolis, but rarely go into Minneapolis because I'm lazy. Plus I work in St. Paul, so it's kind of in the other direction. And I'm tired after work. And really, just shut up about it, the Mall of America is in Bloomington, so I don't have to drive all the way into the city for some fancy shopping, even if they do have this cool sausage deli there. And no, that's not supposed to be a perverted thing.

Yeah, so I had been to the Excel Center, where the NHL team plays, because it's in St. Paul, and well, it's hockey. It's just an excellent arena. Good times. I haven't been to the Target Center (named after the Target stores which are everywhere in Minnesota because we're the home base of the company) where the NBA team plays, because, well, it's basketball. But I hadn't been to the Metrodome either. One, because NFL ticket are expensive and hard to get, and I have no one to go with to football games. My wife would go, but she doesn't want to really pay for it, or go through the hassle. And she doesn't like the fact that the team is purple. And she's still kind of pissed at Randy Moss, even though he's been gone for a few years now. In short, because she's Minnesotan. I had several chances to go to a Twins game in the past, had actually won good tickets to a game vs. the Yankees at one point, but my wife was either sick, or something else always came up.

But two weekends ago we decided we were going to go. A little out of the townhome celebration to go along with me finally graduating from university. We got ok tickets for a Cubs game. Ok seats, not great, high up, but good line of sight. Interleague play so it was a novelty, plus it wouldn't be as empty as usual because of Cub fans.

Now, I'll admit right now that I knew going in the the Metrodome ain't the best baseball stadium around. EVERYONE knows this. We're (probably) getting a new stadium, open air, in a few years. If some tax payers in another county approve it. The Vikings, well, tough luck for them for a few more years. And tough luck it is, playing in the dome.

So, we take the light rail (that's what we call the above ground, slow moving, only one route, subway like monorail thing that was made a few years ago to successfully transfer people from the airport, to the Mall, the downtown, and back again, with no other real purpose) down to the 'Dome. It's busy, because it's game time, baby. There are guys hawking tickets right next to police officers, which confuses Jody. I tell her that Twins tickets aren't worth making arrests for. We both laugh at my lame humour. After trying to go in, but being told that ticket holders in our section have to use a further away door, we finally get in.

First off...food. Beers & Brats is the name of the stand. I've read that they're better than the Dome Dogs, which are overpriced versions of what you by at the local grocery store, because that brand name of hotdogs is a sponser of the team. I get a foot long, because I need to let people know that I have a foot long. Jody gets a brat. Which is a sausage thing incase Jeff is wondering. Pronounce "bra-t". It took me awhile too. I get a huge coke too, which is big enough for the 162 game schedule of the team, plus spring training, to be listed on. I didn't really want it, because the last thing I want to do here is have to go take a piss. My wife gets a beer. We head to the stands.

Now, okay, I knew it was an indoor game. But looking at it on tv, it looks just like an outdoor stadium, because you never really see the roof. So I was unprepared for what it was like walking into the main area off the concourse. Yes, the field is big, because it's a baseball field. But the whole place is just this one, big, room. It's a room that contains a baseball field and stands. It's weird to see that, indoors. It's also oddly yellow because of the big baggy white roof. Seeing it for the first time is just...off putting.

So, we climb the extremely steep stairs to get to the extremely small seats. The cup holders are on the back of the chair in front of you, but they're slightly angled. So when Jody put her full beer into the cup holder, it immediately spilled onto the woman in the chair in front of her. That woman would also never notice that it happened. While trying to make sure my hotdog, being as long as it was, didn't bump into anyone, because it was about as wide as my seat, I managed to spill a lot...and I mean A LOT, of mustard onto my jeans. So I had a big yellow spot on my pants the entire game and ride back. Way to go Brian!

By the third inning, Jody noticed that she smelled dirty boy underwear. I don't know why she knows that smell, but upon nose reflection, she was right. It could have been any number of the teenage farm boys around us who all looked like they could use a bath. The kid in front of me was about 13, and had the ears of a 85 year old, by how sunburned and peeling and gross the tops of his ears were from being outside way too much. He and his friend were also obsessing about filling out the box score of the game, keeping track of each at bat of each player on both teams, and lineup changes. I wanted to tell him that it was no longer 1920, and the boxscore would be available for him to see immediately following the game on any number of internet sites, or in the newspaper, but I doubt that would have mattered to him. Well, we all have our hobbies. I have a blog, so I'm a loser too.

Oh yeah, the Twins blew the other team out, because they were in the middle of 19 wins in 20 games that helped them move 1 game up in the standings. Worst year to be only kind of a great team in a division of super great teams.

There's a giant milk jug in right field. I mean, at least 6 stories high. It's appropriate for Minnesota. It's also far more impressive than the garbage bags they stretch tight to use as a wall for when the field is configured for a baseball field.

The scoreboard needs more than one "walk" animation. The one with walking bear mascot got tired after the 7th walk.

There turned out to be many little boys under the age of 14 who smelled horribly in the tight seating when walking down our aisle to go get food.

Jody didn't understand why people trusted other people to pass money down the aisle to vendors. Because she would take that money and run....through the tightly seated stadium where you can't go anywhere fast.

Sunflower seeds...and they're a for eating in public food, why? Dude beside me dropped about 100 little shells on the ground by my feet. It makes me want to puke with my mouth when I see that.

We leave early, because it's a blow out, and because, well, it's a baseball game and you can and should. We have trouble finding the right exit to leave, thus losing some of our "we're smart, we get out first" time. But we catch the second light rail car, and get seats, thanks of my years of taking the bus to university savvy. I know where to stand to get in the doors first, and I know how to not hesitate and go for the seat kill.

Old hippie couple on the bus annoy me with how many buttons they're wearing. I'm liberal by American standards, would vote democrat if they'd let me (or if I for some God foresaken reason got citizenship), but I know that buttons on your backpack only hurt your credibility. These ones had a pair of buttons that said "We're Phlag Family". Huh? Too much like phlegm to wear in public. Plus, what's the dude with old hippie professor types and having long grey/black beards, combined with far too short of shorts, pulled up socks, and skinny pale legs with black hair? Much yuck. Go away Phlags.

We get off at the Mall, which is where everyone is getting off, because besides the airport, there are no useful other stops, so the thing stays packed the entire slow moving way. Delicious.


And then my adventure was over.