blog of testiclese this is where the shit went down, but before you got here

I got a sweet birthday present yesterday, from my loving and wonderful girlfriend.  It’s a Gameboy DS Lite. It’s shiney, and gadgety, but so far, the most fun I’ve had is playing random people around the world at Tetris, and beating the hell out of them.  I’ve had it for 24 hours and I’m 17-3.  There is a special sort of joy that can’t be had in any other way, and that is the joy of knowing that you’ve beaten someone so bad at Tetris that they’ve thrown their Gameboy across the room in rage.

Dear Coke,

Can I call you Coke?  I feel like I’ve known you for so long.  Let me start this out by saying that I’m a huge fan of yours.  You are the beverage of choice for me, when I’m given the choice.  When I am asked, “Is Pepsi ok?”, I know the answer is no, Pepsi is terrible and I will not drink it.  The only thing that Pepsi has ever had on you is the commercials.  Fortunately, they don’t affect the taste.  You could have the most amazing commercials in the history of commercials, but you’re still drinking Windex. In any event, I write to you today not so much to sing your praises, but to plead with you.  There was a time, in our land, when a man could open a can of Coke without getting it on his hands, where he could comfortably sip a coke without a rush of fluids landing on his shirt and lap.  I’m talking about a time before the wide mouth can.  This wasn’t so long ago that no one remembers, but there was a time where no cans had wide mouths.  I hold Mountain Dew personally responsible.  This may have been the perfect move for them and their ‘extreme’ campaign, but it has ruined the joy of the soda drinking community.  They probably didn’t know that executives around the world would see this as an opportunity to force more soda down the throats of the consumers faster than ever before.  This is why I write to you today Coke, please, hear my prayer, and rid the good Coke Drinkers of the plague upon their soda.  Get rid of the wide mouth cans, get rid of the too fast pour, get rid of the sticky fingers upon opening.  You have it in your power, make it so.

Just returned from a visit to the north country of Wisconsin, on that most superior of lakes.  Land of cheese, trees, and fried cheese.

Best dinner of the visit:  the brown one.

Best doll of the visit: Abraham Lincoln ($75)

Best duck of the visit:  Peking, because al’orange didn’t survive.

Best birdie of the visit: Mine, I think it was hole 16.

Best cemetery of the visit: The French one, with two people who died on my birthday.  No evidence of zombies though.

Best Star Crunch of the visit:  Seriously, they were all great.

11:08 <@thejizzle> if my gang had stats
11:08 <@thejizzle> online
11:09 <@thejizzle> i just had a sweet idea
11:09 <@thejizzle> www.mygangspace.com

Yesterday I went to the hardware store; I needed tools.

I bought a corded Black & Decker power drill, and some other stuff

Gordon Lightfoot was playing over the intercom.

Everything seemed to line up in that moment.

This past thursday, I recieved this email, sent company wide:

Dear friends and coworkers,

Please accept my humble apologies for the fish odor circulating the office. A great hunger and lack of other food options led me to exercise incredibly poor judgment, made all the worse by the fact that I committed the same sin several moons ago and apparently did not learn my lesson. This time, please rest assured that it will never, ever happen again.

there was blood on the disc last night, i was just wondering who’s it was

This time, it’s Chris(t)? Onstad. He is Lord of the Universe of Achewood, and he brings it to us with a freshness that surprises you with nearly daily updates!

I say universe, because it is not just a comic strip. These characters have been given life, and they live it, and we just get to watch. On top of the nearly daily strip, there are twelve blogs, one for each of the major (or perhaps favored) characters. Add on another blog, Chris’ own, and we see the impetus behind this venture. A force driven not only by an urge to draw cats with funny hats that walk around like people, but to drive a story, a journey, and to become fully immersed in it. I have contributed what I can to his quest, by purchasing a number of books, and pins, and clothing apparel, but it does not feel like enough. I began drafting plans to have the entire arc of the “Great Outdoor Fight” tattooed on myself, but the doctors say I would have to gain approximately 700 pounds to have enough skin to cover the event in the detail that it deserves.
What’s so funny? Well, this is:

Ten years, boy-whoo. The ten years between twenty and thirty. If you are twenty, do what I should have done: start Google. I swear, there was this one day at college where I was equidistant between the Communication department and the Computer Science department, and it was the day I had to choose my major, and this guy sitting outside of the Communication building was eating this great-looking sandwich. Like I said, man—decisions. Think about them.

So here’s what you can do to help.

Read the newest comic.

Read the “Great Outdoor Fight” arc. Please, really do, because it’s an instant classic.

Now you feel a little better, so you can start from the beginning.

Perhaps you’d like to learn a little bit more about the author!

Maybe you can quench your hunger a little.

Sometimes an image speaks for itself.

I discovered today that I have a new mantra:

Any effort that is not wasted effort, is.

I’ll let you think about that for a while.