Shortbread

If I had a case of the specials, I would record my life as such;

Kristen Bell…should consider spelling her last name “P-o-v-o…” someday.

I am currently laughing at…this. 

I haven’t seen…Juno…but you can buy…Ellen Page a drink in 37 days.

The Minnesota Twins…had better know what they’re doing by waiting this sucker out. The prospective Johan deals on the table right now are about as succulent as a batch of chocolate-chip cookies, hot out of the oven.

Why aren’t they taking the cookie-dive? Nobody’s willing to give the Mickey Mouse Twins a glass of milk to wash ‘em down with. Hopefully, by Minnesota waiting this one out, they mean that they really do demand that glass of milk, rather than a single-A glass of water – we all know it’s not going to cut through the uncertain stickiness of a package of unproven prospects. With any hope, the Twins will win out on this transaction sometime soon. I don’t want to have to start making nautical analogies for this big-league matter.

I would like to buy… a MacbookAir. Check it this afternoon. 

I have great disdain for…for the public dubbing people with nicknames derived from the “Alex Rodriguez….hmmm….we should call him ‘A-Rod’ for short!’” style.

Acceptable: Alex Rodriguez = A-Rod
Kinda Fun: Francisco Rodriguez = K-Rod
Getting out of hand: Luis Rodriguez = L-Rod

Until…
“Frank Huckabee, please report to the Minnesota Twins major league club immediately.”
…I have no interest in giving anybody else this overused nickname format.

Enjoy ya damn self…chasing lilacs. Yeah, it sounds like hanging a Jeff instead of going straight. Big whoop. Wanna fight about it?

A bastard once told me to download...Atmosphere.

I think..."forgetting micturition after intercourse" cannot be spelled without "U-T-I."

Buy buy now. Have a good night!

What's eating Jon Stewart?

What ever happened to Thursday night?

It used to be a night you could count on. One where the buzz of hoop-dreams, sex-dreams, and alcohol begin their three-day harvest; ultimately, morphing into a weekend-reality series full of stories you share with you friends for years and years. Stories that cost you a girl's phone number, disappoint your parents, and cost you a promotion 30 years down the road because of a well-documented perma-Facebook profile. 

Sure, there has been our fair share of threats to the lively existence of tomfoolery on a Thursday night. In recent history, many of you remember select saloon(s) slowly Scrooging the Tiny Tim's and Bob Cratchit's of alcoholism out of cheap drink specials. But, like a ball in a cup toy, there was no need to worry. We had plenty of other resources to achieve proper drunkenness at a palatable price: exploring the Hawkeye/Paramount/5 O'Clock family of spirits, theft, befriending people with well-paying jobs, and the classic--fasting for 24 hours prior to your first drink. You get the picture. All you need is some crass, well thought-out creativity to get out of debacles like that. 

No more.

That's right, we have a new Thursday evening squabble. You all know of the current situation with which each and every one of our television sets presents us: reruns. More importantly, it presents us with reruns on that very special day of the week--Thursday; most specifically The Office. No, not "special" like Ruke Fier at Trout Fry. No. I'm saying "two-scoops-of-raisins in your Raisin Bran" special. The stuff episodes of The Office are made of.  

Remember the way you kicked a hole in a wall to bring continuity to the character of Andy into real life? Or how Oscar brought your gay-quota up to code at a party? Remember how excited you were when Pam finally let her hair down...for good? 

Remember that one time you cried (or peed) a little bit during the finale of season 2, and you had to wipe the emotions away with a brown paper sack, and a gob of duct tape that was securing your hands to a pair of 40's? 

Remember that one time the big TV networks gave writers poor compensation for their efforts and tried to avoid it like that one time you hit a pedestrian in the crosswalk with your car and then just drove away? The big TV networks remember. But the TV networks aren't going to back down, free of serious negotiation. Maybe the writers buy some distinctive Malano cookies for the networks big whigs. Maybe this whole thing just disappears.

If only it were that easy. If only I really cared about the writers or the networks or what the hell they can't agree upon. All I know is that reruns of The Office are starting to feel stale. Kinda like that relationship you had in high school where you thought she was hot, but after dating her for a while, it's like, "who gives a shit?"

I think that I would rather watch the entire catalogue of Olive Garden commercials consecutively on loop, than suffer through the heartbreak of reruns with no prospective episodes in sight. 

Why should I be so selfish? Why should I complain? I shouldn't. I could watch Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?

Hell, while we're at it, why don't we get some of the amateur writers who aren't part of the union to write some spin-offs. 

Who Can Hold a Straight Face on Live Television Longer After a Penis Joke: Jimmy Fallon or a 5th Grader?

What else? Oh. Well, whether most people like to admit it, Full House was a huge hit. And an inspiration to many. Hmmm:

Emo House

A house full of emotionally depressed caucasian citizens live in a prosperous, upper-middle class neighborhood. Even though each member of the house has been graced with loving families, affectionate girlfriends, substantial fortunes, and a bill of clean health, these zeroes strive for extreme sorrow. Can this group of failures group together and reach euphoric levels of sadness? What a paradox!

Uncle Joey: Cast off the show. ("Cut it out! You make me kind of happy when you tell those jokes.")

Uncle Jesse: Played by Chris Carrabba. His musical "Elvis"?  Dashboard Confessional. Hairstyle? Mullet draped in front of one eye. His catch phrase? "No mercy."

Danny: Lasts one episode. This time, rather than being overly neat and obsessive compulsive, Danny is suicidal. Emo enthusiasts go wild.

Until then, we can only hold out hope for an end to the writers' talks. As for your Thursday's entertainment, give the Mitchell report a shot in the afternoon. Dozens of all-stars, Hall of Fame candidates, who juiced--among others--will be revealed. Your favorite player go down in the mess? Now you've got a good reason to drink Thursday afternoon. ESPN will have coverage from 12pm-6pm CST. Enjoy ya damnselves.

Spagett!

On the next Nine Dollars the Nine Dollars Investigation Team dissects a popular heap of animal droppings that people are paying $14 for. Some people call it Sawdust by The Killers. We'll find out why.

Free Porn

Ladies and gentlemen, this year's Black Friday (I kinda wanna hang myself for giving the day-after-Thanksgiving a proper title) marked the first day of the longest Christmas season in recent history. Last year was so successful, they decided to contract Christmas' 2008 schedule for 33 male-enhancement-riddled episodes of mediocre humor.

Merry Christmas? Happy Chan..man...kah?

Forget about it. Trying to be politically correct when you attempt to greet a stranger, "who looks like some kind of Spanish," with proper holiday wishes is the least of your worries. I think we've all got more significant issues to consider.

Are you ready for the chubby man to sneak up and down your chimney? Have you erased your friend's TiVo and programmed it to record the entire Christmas Story marathon? Have you laid brick to your blueprint, plotting how you will effectively utilize the mistletoe pattern you had your Mom embroider on your favorite pair of boxers? Are you going to remember to go to empty your bladder before you pass out and start spooning with a jug of Carlo Rossi?

Now I've got you shaking in your gay-old Christmas sweater. Not to worry though. Here are a few scouting reports to help plan your Christmas season, promised to be full of jolly people throwing hot dogs down hallways - or, decking the halls.

Top of Scootix Povolny's Christmas List: Five minutes and five beers in a room alone with a smug dog.

Hank Steinbrenner's Dreidel-Spinner: Seven minutes in heaven with Joba 'The Hut' Chamberlain. ("Johan Santana? He doesn't play baseball. He plays that one song with Nickelback.")

Steve Bailey's Recurring Dream: Sugarplums singing Christmas carols outside his dorm room with a chorus full of prospective "real-fathers" singing harmony.

Coupon That Oklahoma State Football Coach, Mike Gundy, is Clipping in the Sunday Paper: A voucher for a free fully-loaded evening in the RZ with scribe Jenni Carlson of the The Oklahoman.

Coupon Windows Vista is Clipping in the Sunday Paper: A voucher for a free cybernetic evening in the RZ with Apple's very own, Mac guy. (Mac guy writes tell-all of first cyber-sexual assault in the history of mankind? Maybe he should blog about it on his new MacBook Pro.)

Geek Squad Now Making House Calls For: Hidden web-cam installation (first ever installed in Oslo 2 bathroom; much to the satisfaction of Wilhelm's fetish for watching Ruke Fier take a poop.)

Authorities are Following: John Eide. Reports link him to coffee shops in the metro area meeting with children's song writer, Raffi. Authorities believe Eide is connected to a dangerous terrorist alliance that may involve singer/songwriter Cat Stevens.

John Eide's Christmas Season Planner: December 2nd: "Meeting at Bruegger's with Raffi: Discuss hip-hop remix of 'Baby Beluga.'"

A-Rod Home-Run-based incentives: $6 million for each monumental Home Run passing the top five of all time.

Bobby Kielty Home-Run-Based Incentives: Kielty hits meaningless Home Run in 2007 postseason. Kenny Rogers fires Scott Boras. Boras reasons Kielty will solve recent clientele woes. Looks to outdo A-Rod's home-run-based negotiation with Yankees by securing a record-breaking deal with Kielty. The sensible reaction? Let the bids start at a bottle of Yoo-Hoo every time Kielty clears the fences. East coast newspapers' top story? Bobby Kielty receiving free-agent offers from all over the league. The sad reality? Kielty will make millions of dollars for one home-run. Had he not hit the home-run? Face down in a drained pool listening to Dashboard Confessional right now.

Out of the Closet: Jam-band, OAR. "Sorry guys, it's time we be honest with our fans: not only do we suck, but it's pronounced 'ore' not 'O-A-R.' Effectively, our fan base will no longer be allowed to be smug by knowing 'how it's really pronounced.' Also: Ladies, you can stop being impressed by the douchebag who lives upstairs and can play 'Hey Girl' 'really good.' Douchebag who lives upstairs: you can stop enjoying the smell of your own farts."

Next "Forward It Like It's Hot!": Randy Wilhelm "accidentally" discovers that the soundtrack for James Cameron's classic, Titanic, syncs up with box-office sensation Stealing Harvard. Look for the dubbed version to start accumulating hits on YouTube within the next week. (Fantasy Spin: Look for a remastered two-disc bundle to be released featuring Wilhelm's greatest hits: The Eagles' Hotel California synced with The Adventures of Pluto Nash, and U2's Joshua Tree synced with Tub-girl. Available December 18th on HD-DVD or Blu-Ray).

Biggest Disappointment: Mitch brings the wrong tin of Ice-Breakers to the first-ever Sexual Holidazzle Parade.

Set a Place at Your Table For: Kansas University football coach, Mark Mangino. After his Cinderella season was dashed by the Missouri Tigers, Mangino reportedly made a new goal for himself this season. Reporters were surprised when he made no mention of a respectable bowl game in his new aspiration. Rather, Mangino claimed he wants to compete with the "other fat man" and visit every house in the world on Christmas Day. In contrast to Santa, the coach will not visit each home bearing gifts for young boys and girls. Rather, he affirmed he will crash each household's Christmas dinner and demand a heaping plate of food. The ground rules? If the plate has so much as trace of vegetables on it, he will eat one of your children. If your bird/pig at the center of your table is stuffed with anything but Arby-Q's, he will eat one of your arms to serve as a reminder to "think Arby's" next year.

Blockbuster: Bruflodt stars as taxicab-aggressor, Scott Povolny, in John, Mitch, and Scott Go to the Hospital: The Story of a Crave Case Gone Wrong.

Minnesota Rivalry Heating Up: New bar opens next door to Gay-90's. Opens: December 1st. DJ spins: Every genre. Name of the bar: Bisexual 80's.

Gay 90's Christmas Promotion: All the drinks, half the price.

Bisexual 80's Christmas Promotion: All the Christmas spirit, half the gay apparel.

Well I certainly hope this insiders' look into the Christmas season helps calm your nerves. May your family be full of Big Montana's f/Arby's. And remember, if you see Jan or Wayne this season, tell 'em to get back together - it's Christmas, for cryin' out loud! ;)

Spagett!

On the next Nine Dollars: "Love Song" by Sara Bareilles is the same song as "So Much Love" by The Rocket Summer

Godparents and Navels

Here's another blog post.

I've had a couple of ideas on my mind today. By the way, I've decided to take on a classic Janssen theme for this blog post (two separate and unrelate-able topics). Thanks, hermano.

First of all, I've encountered the concept of godparents quite frequently in the last couple of weeks. I think most people have the concept down, and are comfortable with what the position means. Unfortunately for me, I am consistently boggled by the principle. This partially may be due to the fact that I do not know who my godparents are. (Should I? Does that make me a godbastard? "Scott Povolny is a godbastard. He doesn't even know who his real godparents are."). It befuddles me on a number of different levels.

Whenever godparents come about in someone's life (or at least majority of the time) it seems as though it's the godson/goddaughter's birthday. The child being honored will receive a gift from the godparents, and the card attached will read something like. "Nine years old already! Happy birthday! Love, Your Godparents." This is where it gets sticky for me.

As far as I have been exposed, the sole purpose of a godparent is that they will be primary caretakers for a given set of offspring if the parents unexpectedly pass away. There may be further social identity that generations of godparents have taken on over the years, but I think that the original intent was to be "backup parents." So let's think about that card again. Essentially by definition, the signature of the card reads "Happy Birthday, Charles! Here's a $20 bill, just to remind you that we're there if your parents pass on, AND we're financially secure enough to be your caretakers! Love, Your Backup Parents." To me, it seems dark to remind someone for each and every birthday (Christmas, Valentine's Day, etc) that you are their "if your Mom and Dad encounter a deadly whirlpool while in a paddle boat, we're gonna be your new caretakers. Not only that, but you will follow some of our basic household rules. You will have to clean up after our dog who suffers from sinus drainage issues. Oh, and forget about Chipotle -- we never told your parents, but we're very racist and think that spicy Mexican food is the devil's defecations in food form...Make yourself at home!....Oh, yes, that is of course if your parents die. Got a little ahead of ourselves! Happy Valentine's Day, Ivan!"

I don't know about anyone else, but I do not need to be reminded that my parents could very well pass on before I do. Moreover, I don't want to know which invalids would suddenly be in charge of a good portion of my future. I'm sure that my parents have chosen a good set of godparents for me (or maybe the haven't, who knows.)

If there are any godparents out there reading this, why don't you go ahead and stop signing your Christmas cards "Love, Your Godparents." Rather, be yourselves: "Enjoy ya damn holiday season, Charles! Yours, Frank (your favorite alcoholic) and Erma (the one with a waxed upper lip.)" If you're not wellin' up by the end of that card, you have no soul.

"Navels" for $1000, Trebek.

Today, I was watching the dreaded "Matrix" in my Internet and American Life class. No matter how many times I watch that movie, it remains just as boring as the time I fell asleep during its premiere. That complaint is for another day, and another time. Regardless of the movie's craptacular essence, the movie reminded me of one of my top five fears in life - Navel Claustrophobia.

During the dark beginnings of the movie, Neo (played by the scrumtrulescent Keanu Reeves) is injected with a cyborg insect through his navel. When the insect began slowly entering through Neo's navel, I just about vomited. Ever since I can remember, I have always believed that if I pressed hard enough on my navel (an "innie" for those wondering) that the object would find its way inside of my body and begin grazing against my organs (add your "That's what he/she said" joke here and laugh until you are jollied-out. Then read on.) This freaks all of the excrement out of my body to even think about it. You could have the best damn abdominal MD in the world tell me that it's impossible for such a thing to happen - it's just one of those things that I will never ever believe. I shall forever be fearful.

Enough of that. Here's some music for my pirates.

Out of Control - Kenna

You may recognize the song from a Sony PSP commercial, where a young man uses his PSP to navigate himself to a hot chick.

Salvation For Some

Well, here I go again (on my own). Wilhelm's a jackass. Onward we go.

As many of you know, I am quite a fanatic of new music. Every time "New Music Tuesday" rolls around, I piss my pants and forget my name for about ten minutes. I shut off the world around me and sift through the iTunes store searching for the next band to rock my world and make me forget about everything I ever thought was cool. It's rather silly when you think about it. I find about two bands like this every year (i.e. 2006: Under the Influence of Giants, and Hard-Fi). That's about a 1:26 chance that you're going to find the one of these bands on a given Tuesday (well, if you're a snot like me). I shouldn't complain though. You don't find two remarkable romantic interests in a year, so why not embrace a new bombshell of a band every six months? Precisely. Hence, the weekly pilgrimage to my nerdery in search of new music.

The iTunes Store has always been a good resource for this need inside over the years. The store operators, for the most part, do a good job of making sure that the store is spiffied up
and ready to go every Tuesday morning (sometimes at the snap of midnight too). The fellas at Apple also thinks it be a good idea to hand out a free new song every week. This is typically done to help unveil new artists that have a relative amount of buzz surrounding themselves. This is all fine and dandy from time to time (except the R&B cuts. They're always awful.), however, the remaining portion of the store demands $.99 per song. It may seem like a reasonable price to pay. However, to some college students like myself, there are many other cheaper offers. Cheaper, as in, free. We all remember when we were little kids running around playing with Napster. We shared our libraries full of music with little boys and girls all over the world. We were unstoppable (especially those fortunate enough to have DSL/Cable connections in the late 90's/early 00's). Unfortunately, the network full of pirates fell apart just as quickly as it started. It went from free S&M versions of "Enter Sandman", to Metallica suing you in the comfort of your living room. Marketing techies always want to bring as much entertainment to the convenience of your favorite computer chair. Never did I think that it meant Lars Ulrich telling you to "f*** off," and paralyzing the use of your very own computer. Also a special thanks to Dr. Dre.

Fortunately for those of us who were exiled, there were other file sharing programs that survived the near extinction of pirating communities. The most notable one that remains today is LimeWire (running off of the decentralized Gnutella Network). Whether Jim needs a bootleg cut of Dave Matthews Band live at the Target Center, or I need a leak of an unreleased Under The Influence of Giants album, or even if McBeain needs some nasty ass pornography - LimeWire's got it all. And that's where it stops....

All of those mentioned above are/were Luther College students. At one point in Luther LIS history - somewhere during my fuzzy freshman year (2003 - correct me if I am wrong) - the network bandwidth was reduced and many file sharing programs like LimeWire and Ares were crippled. Not to worry though, we had Loafy (a cute program with a old couch for an icon that allowed people to share multimedia within the Luther network.) Creator Matt Jansen failed to create an Mac OS-friendly version of the program. No love lost though, Matt (even though you said "I'll get to it eventually." I think Jack Johnson said it best, "It seems to me that maybe, it pretty much always means 'no.'"), the tastes of pop culture at Luther do not match my own very much - I can never find what I need (besides, even if I did, some jackass probably imported the audio in at 128kbps MP3 - unacceptable).

Now hush hush, freshmen, I haven't forgotten about you. There are many thrills yet to be had on Loafy - we were all there once. Those "thrills" happened on Friday nights when we'd all crowd around somebody's computer and convince every last floormate that there was a "really hot porn video on Loafy that you have to see." Then there were those of us who woke up hungover on a Saturday, only to find "Tub Girl" playing on loop on our computer (I won't hyperlink that one, you know where to find it) . At some point, you've experienced every sick pornographic prank that can played by utilizing Loafy, and the concept suddenly becomes "so freshman year." Now you are reduced to the mp3 aspect of Loafy - thousands of mp3's of DMB, OAR, etc. - essentially not much variety.

So what do snooty Indie fans like myself do? What do Luther Mac users do? (If you say anything involving "torrents" I'm going to slice you.) You could hit up the iTunes Store and most likely find what you need for $.99/song. Unfortunately, there are those who made some poor choices in the Canary Islands by getting lost in Playas de las Americas, running into a few hookers, and aimlessly breaking sealed bottles of vodka. For such an adventurous idiot, music thievery is the only affordable option. For years it seemed so hopeless, until I discovered a couple of neat search engines that help you become the "unique" music lover you've always dreamt of. The snotty one that "invents" all kinds of new bands, and brags to all of their friends how they knew about a band way before everyone else did - we all do it at some level, it's what separates us from the animals. However it is that you play the game, there are indeed options to help you find your musical spirituality - whether you're in the middle of a corn field, messing with Sasquatch, or just plain dumb. The search engines I speak of are called "MP3 Blog Aggregators." These engines search through millions of blogs looking for mp3 files that are posted on blog users' posts. The two biggest ones I am familar with are: Elbows and The Hype Machine. Both work equally well, and like anything else, have their advantages and disadvantages:

Advantages:

• comprehensive findings of independent/underground artists
• bootlegs - a) live performances b) songs leaked from the studio before the record is due
• background information available on many blogs with trivia about the band
  

Disadvantages

• importing quality is inconsistent (which really chaps me)
• anything older than six years if nearly impossible to find - if it had its 15 minutes of fame more than three years ago, don't count on finding it
• search engine will often bring up Mp3 links that no longer have the actual Mp3 file - by far the most frustrating part of process
• record labels that are picky enough will occasionally look for blogs with their copyrighted music and "politely" ask the blogger to remove the file (by politely, I mean, "Get rid of it, or we'll take legal action." - fair enough warning).

So as you can see, the engines have the moments. This week, I have found them to be quite helpful - 35 songs downloaded thus far. I'm enjoying myself thoroughly. I would never be able to find any of the music on Loafy, or torrents. Even better, I'm adding on to my sentence in hell with each song I steal - especially from the up and coming artists, whoops. Someday I will pay for my music - hopefully - and support the bands properly. But for now, I try to promote them after I steal their music, and have other people buy it - so maybe I'm just the salesman who gets his product comped for personal use. I just hope that I'm not assigned to the cell next to "Tub Girl" in hell - as part of my will I may require some Imodium AD to buried with me.

Now that you're appetized, search away. And just for starters I'll post a favorable song on my blog. Enjoy ya damnselves.

Energy - The Apples in Stereo

It's a happy song that makes you want to be outside, drinking, grilling, socializing....spring will be here soon according to that smug jackass Punxsutawney Phil.

Comments always encourage further posts, so please do so.

"The Adventure" Review

Well, here comes the blog again. We'll see how long I last.

Review: Angels & Airwaves (aka AVA) is former blink-182 front man Tom DeLonge's new band. The band was created by DeLonge (who I feel was by far the weakest member of blink) shortly after blink-182 had its widely publicized breakup last summer. Mark Hoppus and Travis Barker broke off an created their own band called Plus-44. A word, a hyphen, and a number - cute.

DeLonge is not the lone castaway in the group, however. Former Boxcar Racer guitarist Hazen Street (possible relation to Huston? This may need to be researched), former Distillers bassist Ryan Sinn, and current (not to be confused with the castaways) Offspring drummer Atom Willard finish out a highly recognizable group of punk all-stars.

The band's new album "We Don't Need to Whisper" is based upon the autobiographical movie DeLonge wrote entitled "Angels & Airwaves" (www.angelsandairwaves.com), which describes the band's journey from failure and anguish to "adventure" and potential. The trailer for the movie, available on their website, gives viewers a look into the future of DeLonge's film career: short and painful.

The narration he provides with the preview of the analogic autobiography of the band, reads like a 10th grader's AIM profile.

"Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? When you close your eyes, do you see the future? And if you could escape from your past, would you be ready for the next adventure?"

As painful as it sounds, the band makes up for a lot of this fluff, backing it with a new powerful sound that far exceeds their days of their frat party music polluted albumes, and ditches the repetition of high tempo everything. DeLonge describes the new sound to have hints of U2 and Pink Floyd throughout the album. I wouldn't give him so much credit as to say there are any strong resemblances to the two classic powerhouses, but it's relatively audible in some places.

The guitar buildups in the introduction of "The Adventure", along with echoing guitar riffs scream the glory days of U2 when they used to create songs with great feeling and depth circa "The Streets With No Name".

The flavor of Pink Floyd is slight and superficial at best. The occasional sound effects in the new single, sounding like pipes crashing together, may come across as Pink Floyd-sounding, but ultimately do not add anything to the abstract storytelling like a "Dark Side of the Moon" would. DeLonge may want to rephrase his claim and tell the fans that it has a hint of an 80's band who enjoys S&M and playing concerts in boiler rooms - you know who I'm talking about.

All in all, the band's effort not only gives the listeners a sense of hope in our homogenous market of upbeat punk that has become a standard of "rock", but also the rest of "rock" musicians. Yes, the term "rock" is a highly generalized genre, but so many fall victim to visions of TRL, tits, and money - who wouldnt? - and create a popular product, even if it turns a band from Good Charlotte into Bad Charlotte (I'm not so sure they were ever good, but they had their own sound at one point, as well as their souls). The group creates the hope that you can eventually pursue your deepest, most instinctual expression of music. Well, after you've done Spring Break w/TRL, sold out, made the money, and then have the power to tell your record producer that you can do whatever you want now.

AVA makes a giant bound forward with their careers in this new album. The album is due May 23.

The Adventure *** (out of four)

Want the song?
The Adventure

Ghouls, Vampires, Ghosts, and Sluts

Music: A Pain That I'm Used To by Depeche Mode

Want the song?
Mac Users: Control-Click the song link and select "Download Linked File"
PC Users: Right-Click the song link and select "Save Target As"

Archived songs? Songs from previous posts will be removed as soon as a new post is published. The reasong being is to reduce risk of copyright law punishment. I will leave older songs up here for a couple more days and eventually remove them. Remember, anytime you desire a song from my collection simply IM and make a request. I can make things happen with you.

Well it's that ghoulish time of the year again. Halloween is upon us. Children day dreaming of Oh Henry!'s . Moms and Dad's putting together bowls chock full o fun snacks. And college girls imagining up the most slutty costumes they can think of.

Yup, you've all seen it. Many of you have played the part. And yet, Halloween remains the one day where you can get away with damn near anything you like.

We were all kids once, who went from house to house dragging our parents around till all hours of the morning to attain at least 10 lbs of candy. But now we are in college and are adults now. It's time to get slutty. But not too much! As my friend Peebles would say "That's tooo much!!!" (also see his Blog ) The general theme that I gather from Halloween is that we can simply get away with nearly anything we like. On Halloween, adolescents are allowed to acquire and ingest as much candy as they like. But if an adolescent were buy 10 lbs of candy and start eating it feverishly in the middle of July you might be reported to a local nutrionist by your overprotective parents. In our case it is not commonly accepted in our society to simply wear a slutty costume on just any day of the year. However, on the fateful day of Halloween we overlook any judgement of these gluttonous and whorish characters.

We have considered those who are forbidden from such characteristics throughout the other 364 days of the year, but we must also consider those who represent the other side of the spectrum. For example if you are the type of girl that is a slut in everyday life and cannot get enough chocolate, (like the kinda girl that says "I LOVE chocolate, but I can't eat it cuz then I'll get fat. But it's SOOOOO GOOD!" also see Brian Griffin )show up to your Halloween party at work with a pair of sweat pants (not the ones with words on the ass like "Pink" "Juicy" "Porn Star" "Delicious" "Bootylicious" "Yummy" or even "This is my ass." This will immediately disqualify you.) This may require a trip to Target/Wal-Mart, but it will be worth it. If done properly, you will have people giving you just as much attention as those who are dressed sluttily, if not more. And to really knock 'em dead, when you are offered a piece of chocolate, you say, "Chocolate? What are you, drunk? I hate chocolate." Act disgusted, and walk away. You'll have the whole office buzzing about your outfit/persona for the day, and undoubtedly will run away with the Costume Contest that your bitchy co-worker 'Brenda' wins every year with her damn slutty M&M costume (How can an M&M be slutty? "IT JUST IS!!!" ).

Slutty people, this is your opportunity to really stick it to these plain folks who think they can pose as you on Halloween. Make us proud.