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2007-02-20T20:09:00.000-06:00

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Back

2006-08-14T15:31:00.000-05:00

Fan's of me--who isn't--will be happy to know that in a fit of weirdness and boredome I decided to bring my old blog back to life. In a minute, you will be prompted to visit it. Keep in mind that there is no new content yet, but there will be soon. Bookmark it! And if you are new to here, read the archives. So go here now.

Long Overdue Eulogy...

2006-08-12T22:00:00.000-05:00

If you ever read this with any regularity, you knew this was coming. Really, most of you probably didn't think I would even bother to sign off. This blog became something like an old neighbor: you don't see them out in the yard for a while, so you assume something must have happened. Then one day, you hear that your neighbor is dead, and it's not really a surprise. "Oh, I guess that makes sense," you might say to yourself, or, if you're me, you would say something like, "Oh, he's dead now."

So anyway, those of you who are bitter, don't blame my new job for the end of this blog. If anything, I have more time in front of a computer than I did at my old job. I just don't feel like doing this "thing" anymore. It got to the point where it was more of a chore than fun. "Oh, I've got to go find the book and read the task and then make something up ridiculous to pretend that I did because I'm not stupid/ballsy enough to actually do most of the things I said I did," I can recall thinking on several occasions.

But, it was pretty fun. We had some laughs, didn't we? Anyway, since it is 10 pm on a Saturday night and the extent of my social life is watching the Little League Regional Finals--not even the World Series--and I still get the itch to spread my opinion to the masses, I may go back to my old blog and get that going again. So if you were a reader here, and helped me reach almost 15,000 hits in under a year, which is pretty good for a nobody amateur blogger who doesn't go out of his way to read and/or comment on other blogs, at least I think it's pretty good, stay tuned for a notice to go read about what I think somewhere else. Adios for now...

Day Two Hundred Thirty-Three

2006-07-16T17:52:00.000-05:00

Today buy your Xmas presents and approach the Xmas season in total serenity.

But I like the chaos...

Everbody will probably wonder why they received beach towells and sun screen. And all the cards are bargain leftovers from Father's Day. But oh well. Tis the season.

Day Two Hundred Thirty-Two

2006-07-15T17:51:00.000-05:00

Saunas are good for you, so today turn your heating up to the max and indulge in some healthy sweating.

Fortunately today in Chicagoland the thermometer pushed 95 degrees Fahrenheit--something else, Celsius--and I got the sauna effect by laying out at a friend's pool. I do enjoy a good steam, however, mostly in the winter. I really don't have anything clever to say about this...

Day Two Hundred Thirty-One

2006-07-14T17:50:00.000-05:00

Today the members of this book are issuing Personal International ID Numbers.

MDC abstains, courteously. That is, really, the main downfall of the global economy and the "internet" and the E-ing of everything: it's far more difficult to just disappear. Oh for the days when you could check into a hotel without a credit card by signing the register with any damned name you wanted, or so I understand from watching old movies.

Day Two Hundred Thirty

2006-07-13T19:34:00.000-05:00

Today deny yourself something.

Coffee. How did I get to this point, when it is a big deal to not drink coffee for a day? I'm healthy. I sleep at least 7.5 hours a night. I'm not overly bored with my job--most of the time. But I end up drinking coffee every day. It doesn't help that they brew Starbucks at the office, and it's free. Or that I enjoy a cup of home brewed Lavazza with my weekend newspapers and crossword puzzles. I guess it could be worse, but today I didn't indulge.

Day Two Hundred Twenty-Nine

2006-07-12T19:33:00.000-05:00

Today is blue sky day. Forget the practicalities; decide what you really want out of life.

I want...

...Immortality

...To publish a collection of short stories

...To own a restaurant called At Both Ends that only serves breakfast food and milkshakes. Hours: 6 a.m.-12 p.m.; 9 p.m.-2:30a.m.

...To slam dunk a basketball on a regulation hoop

...To visit every major league ballpark over the course of a single summer

...To appear on Late Nite with Conan O'Brien

...To hang out with Chuck Klosterman and discuss pop culture

...A carnitas burrito from Chipotle

Day Two Hundred Twenty-Eight

2006-07-11T21:26:00.000-05:00

Phrenology Day. Today have your head examined.

Head examined? I though phrenologists feel and interpret the size of Walt's ass-hole...

But all Sheen-Estivez collaborations aside, I carry curious bumps in these regions:

2: Language Faculty
12: Sense of Ruse
14: Metaphysical Perspicuity
16: Caustic Wit

I think the main thing to take away from this exercise is the idea that I should never shave my head because apparently my skull is far from smooth. And why the hell am I not on World Series of Pop Culture? As far as I can tell, my skills are far superior to anyone on that show. Curse them.

Day Two Hundred Twenty-Seven

2006-07-10T21:21:00.000-05:00

Today go to a supermarket and enter all the competitions.

I was at Dominick's, see. And I thought I was entering a contest, see. And this guy talked to me for almost 10 minutes, see. Like he was some barker on the midway at the county fair. But when he was done, it turned out to be this long pitch to sign me up for a newspaper subscription. That took up too much of my time, so I ran to the cereal aisle and bought five boxes of Frosted Mini Wheats so I could send in the tokens for a free, personalized license plate as part of a promotion for that Cars movie. What a terrible title for a movie, by the way.

Day Two Hundred Twenty-Six

2006-07-09T21:02:00.000-05:00

Today do something radical with your hair.

I sported a Faux Hawk all day long. "What's so radical about a faux hawk?" you ask. Well, for your information, the faux hawk is soooo 2003. Get with the times and recognize the risk I took today.

Example Faux Hawks, as seen on men slightly less handsome than me:

Day Two Hundred Twenty-Five

2006-07-08T23:22:00.000-05:00

No electricity day. Our proud ancestors survived for years without electricity. See if you can survive the day without using any electrically powered devices.

Thank goodness for semi-efficient--my car is Japanese, but not that small or that new--gasoline-powered internal combustion engines. But alas, there are electrically powered components of my car as well. Actually, this task would have required sitting in my house all day with the lights off. Which normally wouldn't be a problem. But I had a lot to do today. Realistically, we could all live without electric power, but why would we want to? You've been sitting in a chair, drooling all day in anticipation of this post, and the computer I'm using to type this--and the one you'll use to read it--requires electricity. Enough said. Not to mention the coffee maker and the basket of sex toys you've been alternately using to pass the time up until this post goes live. Come on people, life's not worth living without electricity. Our ancestors were stupid for not realizing that sooner. So power up some electric flashlights and go spit on their graves. Then drape yourself in Christmas lights and fire up the hi-fi system and polka the night away. Yippeee!

Day Two Hundred Twenty-Four

2006-07-07T22:06:00.000-05:00

Today cut in line.

Excellent. I did this on my lunch break at the nearby Target. My basic strategy was to find a small item, such as gum or a bottle of soda or a single cookie, then lurk by the checkout lines. When I saw someone approaching the lines (with, no doubt, far more items than me), surveying the situation, I focused on getting in his or her head to determine which line he or she would choose. After the apparent choice, I would zoom in and dart ahead, pretending not to have noticed the person and feigning remorse. I did this about four or five times. Nobody said anything, but you could see the annoyance in their eyes.

Day Two Hundred Twenty-Three

2006-07-06T09:56:00.000-05:00

Today, feel the passage of time. Tick every precious minute as it goes by and appreciate the true meaning of time.

Today I had a little extra "time" to count down the "time". Without going into the tedious details of my job, I had a day in which I sat around waiting for an email with feedback on some work I did, for several hours. Upon receiving that email, I would make some quick revisions, send some email, and then go back to waiting around. The counting activity gave me something to do to pass the "time".

I am hyper-worried about the passage of time. A couple of years ago, about 2-3 into my professional life after college, I became extremely sensitive to the idea that I needed to use as much of my non-work time as possible doing things I enjoy. This meant doing many things, including streamlining household chores (I don't consider cooking dinner a chore, it is a hobby and gets filed under "leisure time". I am quite a good cook) to make them as efficient as possible and drinking caffeine to avoid pesky naps. Currently, with the job I just started, I loose approximately 1.5-2 hours of time in the evening (I have managed to keep my morning schedule almost identical). Instead of starting my "real life" at about 3:15 most days, it starts between 4:45 and 5:00. It has made me more efficient. I spend less time watching TV and laying around. I fill as many minutes as I can and then crash at bedtime. It actually feels great.

Day Two Hundred Twenty-Two

2006-07-05T22:47:00.000-05:00

Find a way of including the word "Vortex" in all your conversations today.

At work: Could you get this graphic that's supposed to be a DNS server to look more like a Vortex?

At lunch: Can I get Vortex with that? No, not mayonnaise, Vortex!

Road Rage: Get your goddamned Vortex out of my Vortex!

At home: You forgot to close the Vortex when you left today.

At home (2): I'll take the dog for a Vortex.

Yeah, so...

2006-07-05T07:54:00.000-05:00

So, after a heartfelt comment left by HS Commons, I have decided to come out from behind the shroud of inactivity. Much like Jimmy Chitwood says in Hoosiers, "I don't know if it'll make a difference, but I figure it's time for me to start playing ball."

This blog had gotten to be more of a burden than anything else, for a while, and as I responded in the comment, I've been quite busy since June 14, when I last posted. At the start of June I was rounding out the school year, giving finals, cleaning up, and getting closure. Just as that was ending, I finalized training and prep for the sprint triathlon (400m swim, 15.2 mile bike, 4.2 mile run) and then completed the race. Then, I had to finalize everything for my buddy's bachelor party weekend, which I had been planning since January (it kicked ass, by the way) and go to that. And what should await me when I returned, but a new job, which I in the third week of doing. But things are settling down, and I'm pretty much adjusted to my new schedule, so hopefully tonight I will remember to post about today's task and this entry will not end up a brutal cock-tease for all of you rabid fans.

Day Two Hundred Twenty-One

2006-06-14T23:01:00.000-05:00

Today decide which organs to donate in case of death and let your family know.

All of them. But I don't plan on ever being dead, so this is kind of moot. But, if somehow something goes wrong with my plans, all of them. As you may or may not know, my funeral plans are very specific. Which is odd, since I don't ever plan on needing a funeral, but my plans are so awesomely outrageous that they need to be planned whether I turn out to be immortal or not. Take out all my organs, donate 'em, the replace them with explosives and sew me back up. Then, at the end of the service, "TNT" by AC/DC will be played and I will be detonated. So yeah, take all my organs and let someone else benefit from my superior awesomeness.

Day Two Hundred Twenty

2006-06-13T20:28:00.000-05:00

Confidential: A huge meteorite is about to hit the earth, blasting it into smithereens. The world's main governments left weeks ago for a secret base on Pluto, leaving their lookalikes to keep the populace placid. Only owners of the book are allowed to be in the know, so please keep this information to your self.

I feel obligated to tell all of you. According to the book, there are four ways to react: Go on the Rampage, Have Sex with Everyone, Prepare for the Afterlife, or Sit in front of the TV in Numbed Disbelief.

I am going to be doing a little of each of the first two. Feel free to join. I've also just opened several new credit card accounts, and in a few minutes I going to drop some Acid and go to work on a keg of PBR. Tomorrow, when I come down, I think I'll run around Wal-Mart wielding a sledge hammer then hit the bars and proposition every woman I see. I haven't planned out the last two days, but I intend to make Jim Morrison's wild years look like nursery school. See you on the other side...

The Latest in a Series of Interruptions

2006-06-11T10:13:00.000-05:00

For those of you worried--millions out there, I'm sure--about the status of the last four life-changing days, they will come. I was in the final days of prepping for a triathlon--just finished a couple hours ago--and sorting out a job offer. Patience, my children...

Day Two Hundred Nineteen

2006-06-06T07:52:00.000-05:00

Volume test your neighbors. Find out what point your neighbors begin to feel the base by adjusting the volume on your stereo until they start complaining.

A test for my 6.1 channel--100 watts per channel plus 200 additional watts from the sub-woofer--home theater system, and an opportunity to alienate myself from the townhome community!

I chose the rolling bass line of LL Cool J's "Going Back to Cali" for the first wave. No response.

Next I moved the dial and went with a little Led Zeppelin "Immigrant Song" for a quick burst. Still nothing.

Finally, I brought out the big guns, one of the loudest songs I can think of, Public Enemy and Anthrax combining on "Bring the Noise". The woman to my south pounded on the wall a little. The two guys to my north started playing Sublime's 40oz. to Freedom in response. I countered with some select tracks from Strung Out's Twisted by Design until the Sublime quieted and declared myself victor.

Day Two Hundred Eighteen

2006-06-05T09:13:00.000-05:00

Today your task is to start a collection, any collection.

Enemies? Shrunken heads? Souls? The personal contact information of people who like Bjork?

Exciting, all those collections would be, but not for me.

Today I officially started my "Old Newspaper Collection". I subscribe to two, the Chicago Tribune and a local suburban rag, and they are starting to pile up directly. You see, I feel this is very important for my posthumous image. When I become a well-known, semi-iconic cranky recluse in old age, if I eventually die--right now this is still up in the air--and people have to break down my doors and get into my massive recluse compound, I want them to find piles and piles of random stuff. Newspaper is a good place to start because it is pretty standard for "stuff discovered when people finally open up the home of a famous recluse after they die". I don't think I could actually tolerate living with all this paper, however, so I'll have to buy a second home, one that everyone thinks I live in as a recluse but actually don't, to store the piles of random stuff. Then I can live a relatively neat existence and still achieve the posthumous image of weirdness I desire.

Day Two Hundred Seventeen

2006-06-04T08:42:00.000-05:00

VIP-Day. These are the people we'd like to buy and read the book. If your name is not on the list, please use the exclusive form to tell us what you think. If your name isn't on the list, please turn the page and move along.

I'm not on the list, but I call on you, the reader, to leave your endorsement in my comments. Please, if you visit this site and read this particular post, leave a comment. Even if you are just passing through hitting the "Next Blog" button. Even if you hate me. Even if you have to decide between leaving a comment and swinging on a tattered rope to save a maiden in distress. Even if you are driving. Even if you can't read or write. Even if you...well, you get the idea.

Day Two Hundred Sixteen

2006-06-03T08:30:00.000-05:00

Today live for the moment: that moment is 21:32:22 to 21:31:23. Plan your entire day around that single second of absolute choking nirvana. First, purchase the necessary accessories: one rare Belgian white truffle sugar dusted chocolate, silk pajamas, the sleekest hi-fi system available, and a cd or Maria Callas. Retire to your home where after a restorative siesta, you are to bathe in champagne for an hour or so, before receiving a massage from some gorgeous Swedish creature. As the blissful second nears, pop the chocolate in your mouth, kiss the love of your life, and bring yourself to orgasm at 21:31:22 precisely the moment when Maria Callas hits the high note in Tosca's "Vissi D'Arte" aria. Truly, now, you many say you'll die having lived.

I had everything at my house except the truffle and the cd--yes, I keep a Swedish massage therapist on call at all times, don't you?--so despite the excruciating detail of these directions, it was fairly convenient. I recommend trying this some Saturday night when you're bored. Just plan. It's a lot like taking Ambien--or LSD, I guess--you can't really do anything that requires you to be productive or coherent for about eight hours after doing this.

Day Two Hundred Fifteen

2006-06-02T08:28:00.000-05:00

Today, welcome new life. Every day, an average of 202176 babies are born worldwide. Go to your nearest maternity ward and welcome one of the little guys.

The security at a maternity ward is surprisingly stiff. I didn't get much past the waiting room, where things have changed because I was violently accosted for smoking the congratulatory cigar I had brought along as a festive touch. It was probably for the best as babies make me extremely uncomfortable anyway. They are very fragile and their owners are very uptight about this, which irritates me. Why get all excited about your baby and make a big deal about me "seeing it" and offering to let me hold it if you are going to freak out about what I feed it or how I hold it or where I leave it so I don't have to try to carry a plate of food and a beer in the same hand? I mean, come on!

Day Two Hundred Fourteen

2006-06-01T08:56:00.000-05:00

Today measure your IQ.

The book provided a handy 10-minute, 10-question test.

I scored a 136, which the book classifies as "Very Bright".

It was not my best effort; I only used about 6 minutes and I had a phone conversation about the upcoming release of The Omen, running red lights, my summer employment prospects, and slipping up by talking about a fun wedding with people who aren't invited. For the record, I didn't slip up, I was talking to another person who is invited about talking to people who aren't. So, if I had spent a little more time and concentration on the number sequencing stuff--my weak area--, my score may have been higher, in what the book classifies as the "liar" range.

Perhaps someone with a higher IQ can answer this question: Why is it that "Mirror in the Bathroom" is such a great track but I find most other English Beat songs somewhat less than compelling?

Day Two Hundred Thirteen

2006-05-31T09:43:00.000-05:00

Surveillance Special: Today state a crime in front of a back alley security camera and see if anyone comes to the rescue.

Finding a back alley in suburbia is a difficult task. There really aren't many alleys at all that aren't in residential areas. I managed to find one behind a bank in the downtown business district area of my burb , where I assume surveillance to be heaviest. My partner in crime and I set out to stage a mugging.

This wouldn't have been much of a social experiment if we didn't "mix things up" a little bit, so we acted out a bit of female-on-male violence and I had my partner mug me. I walked around the corner in the alley counting a wad of money I had just withdrawn from the ATM. She hopped out from behind a dumpster with her fist in a brown paper lunch bag. I held my hands in the air and backed against the brick wall of the bank as she advanced. She fake pistol-whipped me, punched me in the stomach--for real, I have abs of steel so it didn't hurt--and I dropped the cash and fell to the ground. She picked it up, kicked me in the thigh for good measure--also for real--and took off. No one came to my rescue, but a few female on-lookers applauded.

Day Two Hundred Twelve

2006-05-30T08:31:00.000-05:00

Pillow Talk. Tonight use this book as your pillow and write down your dreams.

Thank goodness I'm back from France. That was getting a bit ridiculous.

Last night I had several dreams I can't remember. Apparently they didn't just transfer to the pages of the book via osmosis. I do remember a tennis racket, some tornadoes, and like three ex-girlfriends.

Jour Two Hundred Eleven

2006-05-29T07:59:00.000-05:00

Protest violently against the government.

I've found that using violence to prove a point seldom makes one look like anything but a raving loon, and it's quite difficult to get your point across when everyone things you're a raving loon.

Case in point, the recent murder of three Iraqi tennis players. Actually, I think it was two players and a coach, but anyway, Muslim extremists shot these guys because they were wearing shorts. Yes, shorts. These murderers may have had a valid point--they didn't, in fact, their "point" was probably one of the most invalid points I have ever seen pointed out--but that point becomes entirely unimportant because only a stark raving loon with the intelligence and common sense of a bag of Original Flavor Corn Nuts could possibly consider shooting someone for wearing something--hint hint, gang members, I'm looking at you too here--to be within the same universe as reasonable behavior.

So, because violence is stupid, my protest is going to consist of continuing to screw the U.S. Postal Service by putting the destination address in both the standard location and the return address location on all my mail.

Jour Two Hundred Ten

2006-05-28T17:09:00.000-05:00

Take a lover.

Spoken for. Sorry. Although if I weren't already "involved" I would take several. Thank goodness I only have one more day of my French Vacation.

Jour Two Hundred Nine

2006-05-27T16:59:00.000-05:00

Smoke 60 Gauloises.

Sorry, no dice. I am a reformed smoker. I only light up twice a year, both in December. The first is during Christmas shopping. I always go to the Oakbrook Shopping Center, which is outdoors. It is crisp, cold, and wonderfully decorated. I go on a week night, one or two weeks before Christmas, to do some shopping and take in the atmosphere. I buy a pack of Parliaments and sit on a bench and smoke one, enjoying the scenery. Then I smoke another as I walk to my car. If I don't throw the pack away, the only other time I smoke is December 27th, to mark the anniversary of the death of my first dog Gracie. I have another Parliament, if at all possible, at the Cole Cabin campground in Geneseo, Illinois.

Based on my experiences--TV and Movies--French people seem to smoke constantly. It's entirely possible that I am not very suited for the French lifestyle.

Jour Two Hundred Eight

2006-05-26T16:55:00.000-05:00

Topless sunbathing day.

Is there any other way? Granted, a farmer's tan is quite fashionable, but I need full disclosure. As a fair-skinned Irish/German with blonde hair, the optimal tan only comes after a fine red charring. Once I'm pink all over, the thin layer of burnt skin slowly peels, revealing a nice, even tan.

Jour Two Hundred Seven

2006-05-25T08:41:00.000-05:00

Sit at a cafe all day writing your philosophy.

Egg Harbor Cafe closes at two, but I have to go to work at some point today, so nine to noon will have to do. Anyway, here's some philosophy (not necessarily all mine, but what I could think of as floating around in human consciousness), scrambled, with a side of wheat toast...

-The only true unselfish act in life is to die for someone else. All other seemingly selfless acts are really, at their core, selfish because you gain a sense of happiness or self-satisfaction from them. If it makes you feel good to do something for someone else, than you are really doing that something for yourself.

-The only purpose of morals is to obscure the realization that if you lower to the risk factor to zero, no behavior is off limits.

-Unless you are completely secure in the needs and comfort of your loved ones, leave charity to someone else.

-Work for yourself and to finance your leisure time. Employee loyalty will always eventually be rewarded with a swift kick in the ass from the employer.

-Non-fiction books should only be read to learn tangible, concrete steps/strategies/information necessary to complete a task(s). If you want to really learn about life, leadership, and inspiration, read fiction.

What the Hell?

2006-05-24T11:33:00.000-05:00

Apparently the rules have been rewritten and I can do this from work again. We'll just have to see what happens when I push this button...

Jour Two Hundred Six

2006-05-24T08:40:00.000-05:00

Have a fight in public (part of France Vacation Week).

Whaddya mean have a nice day?!?

I was just trying to be polite.

Well I tell you what. I decide when I want to have a nice day, and I have that nice day on my terms! You don't tell me to have a nice day. You don't tell me to do anything!

Sorry.

Damn right you are. Now, I want you to hit me as hard as you can...

Day Two Hundred Five

2006-05-23T08:38:00.000-05:00

Take this week off and spend it in France, behaving like the French.

Not in the budget that was allotted to me at the beginning of this project, and I don't believe in deficit spending. Besides, I took most of last week off anyway.

Day Two Hundred Four

2006-05-22T22:02:00.000-05:00

Today, be entirely serious. Irony is a curse in disguise, corrupting and reducing everything to the same superficial level and abolishing depth in both values and relationships. Today, avoid the temptations of glibness and frivolity and take life serious for a change.

Boy, if they were looking for a target for this day...

I mean, if I'm anything at all, it's glib and frivolous.

I take almost nothing seriously. Nothing.

I often implore people to please, take a minute to appreciate the irony, much like overly-concerned mothers implore others to "think of the children". And I make fun of people who "think of the children", celebrating obscene humor and dreaming of a society where nobody has to worry about influencing anybody if they don't want to.

I frowned a lot today, and made no jokes. Most people thought I was sick.

Tomorrow I will be making several tasteless jokes, laugh at inappropriate times, and be a sarcastic jerk, just to make up for the sick, disgusted feeling I have right now from wasting a day by taking things seriously. Then I'll probably go fishing.

Day Two Hundred Three

2006-05-21T22:01:00.000-05:00

Book pyramid scheme. Sell this book door-to-door and get rich quick.

I only have one copy of this book. I didn't realize quite what a stumbling block this would be until someone actually (a) answered the door, (b) didn't spit, swear, and slam the door in my face, and (c) actually wanted to buy the book.

Him: That looks great, I'll take a copy.
Me: Okay. But wait. This is my only copy.
Him: Yeah...You're point being?
Me: Well, I can't really sell it to you.
Him: Why?
Me: It's quite a humorous situation. This book has told me to go door-to-door selling this book, and I do everything this book says, but if I actually go through with it and sell this book, I can't do everything it says any more.
Him: That's not humorous, that's ridiculous.
Me: But if you'll just take a minute to appreciate the irony.
Him: Get away from me.
Me: Not until you appreciate the irony!
(Door Slams)

I also have a friend who got a job selling reference books door-to-door after our sophomore year of college. His territory was in California, and we lived in Illinois and went to school in Iowa. Anyway, one day I was standing in the driveway of another friend's house when we were home for the summer, and we were wondering how our book-seller friend was doing, because he had to work something like 11 hour days, and he just appeared in the driveway. Not like a ghost, I mean he drove up. But it was a wacky coincidence.

Day Two Hundred Two

2006-05-20T23:15:00.000-05:00

Pregnancy test day. You can never be too careful.

I passed. Not pregnant! I was concerned, however, despite what people in "modern medicine" and "science" about how a "man" can't get "pregnant". I've seen that episode of The Cosby Show where all the men get pregnant and give birth. I think it was because of aliens. Anyway, Cliff gives birth to twins: a giant hoagie and a two-liter bottle of orange soda. Theo, the "unwed one" as Cliff's mother calls him, gives birth to a sports car. Martin, the husband Denise brought home from Africa with shark-jumping kid cutie Raven Simone, gave birth to a sail boat. I don't remember what Elvin delivered.

Day Two Hundred One

2006-05-19T23:35:00.000-05:00

Today become a conceptual artist.

I call this piece The Indifferent Genius of Creation and its frivolous romance with The Destroyer. Observe:

Get it? The concept, that is.

Day Two Hundred (My Triumphant Return!)

2006-05-18T21:09:00.000-05:00

Send a message in a bottle.

(Sent in a Fiji Water Bottle, but actually mailed instead of dropped into a body of water)

What the flip, producers, writers, and creators of The O.C. Tonight's season finale was, well, I just don't know. Watching it was like getting some action when you're really, really drunk: it goes on and on and on and is fun but there's no real payoff. Well, I guess there was a payoff if you are someone not like me who reads spoilers and lurks on message boards and kind of expected what happened. But it wasn't even a traditional cliff-hanger. Sure, some things are still "up in the air" but the cliff-hanger's resolution isn't the focus of next season's anticipation. The show could be totally different or reasonably the same. You just don't know.

Sorry, that's all I can really think about right now. Which I admit, is sort of sad. Oh well.

Brief Pause

2006-05-17T22:04:00.000-05:00

I'm not dead or in jail, just very, very busy...

Day One Hundred Ninety-Nine

2006-05-14T17:10:00.000-05:00

FAQs Day. Memorize the answers to these questions. Your life will depend on them at some point in the future.

What do you call those little plastic things on the tip of shoelaces? Aglets
Why do you never see baby pigeons? They grow up too fast
Would a Mars Bar melt on Mars? Yes
What is the most common middle name? Mary
What year were tennis balls officially changed from white to green? 1967
How much water do we pass on average? 8 oz. / minute
What was the weather of Sao Paulo on the morning of May 12, 1976? Cloudy
What is the volume of a whale's ejaculate? Half a gallon
How many dimples are there on a golf ball? 336
What is the second most popular cat name? Patches
When were postage stamps invented? 1840
What is the longest recorded flight of a chicken? 13 seconds
How much does an average adult human heart weigh? 10 oz.
What is the only food that does not spoil? Honey
What was the name of Lady Godiva's horse? Aethenoth
How many hairs are there in the average beard? 12000
How many bricks are there in the Empire State Building? 10 million
Who is the Patron Saint of Toothaches? St. Apollonia

There will be a quiz later.

Day One Hundred Ninety-Eight

2006-05-13T17:09:00.000-05:00

Today have a good cry.

I'm about due. I haven't had a good cry since my dog died back in December of '01. But, cryin' don't come easy. To conjure the tears I had to do all of the following:

-Cut up an onion and rub it all over my face.
-Cue up the scene in The Empire Strikes Back when they freeze Han Solo and watch it four times.
-Listen to the song "Feel the Pain" by Dinosaur Jr.
-Think about our current National Debt

One tear successfully shed.

Day One Hundred Ninety-Seven

2006-05-12T17:08:00.000-05:00

Improve your signature today.

How can you improve upon perfection? Due to security reasons, I will not be posting a copy of my amazing signature. But, I will give a "shout out" to one of the great all time signatures:
The Illiterate Red-Neck Signature

Behold this work of art, in all its glory!

X

Day One Hundred Ninety-Six

2006-05-11T21:21:00.000-05:00

Mannerisms Day. Today, try to be aware of what your body is saying to those around you: don't let them betray your inner feelings.

I shake and tap my leg constantly. If I am not doing this, I am chewing gum vigorously. I do this because I have attention span problems and excess energy. I communicates nothing meaningful to others but nonetheless annoys them, which a lot of the time is a good thing in my "book".

I also look at my watch and clocks a lot. It's just a habit, but it gives others the idea that I am bored with what they are saying and want to know just how much of my time they are wasting. I am really aware of this, and don't want to offend anyone, so I try to sneak my looks at my watch or a clock, which makes it even more conspicuous.

That's about it, I guess. Oh, and I have this other mannerism where I show everyone my middle finger all of the time, but I'm not sure which of my complex inner feelings this reveals.

Day One Hundred Ninety-Five

2006-05-10T21:25:00.000-05:00

Today build a snowball.

I used the frost in my freezer and a common household bowl. I threw it at my neighbor. He didn't appreciate it. I ran. He followed. I am much faster. I led him on a chase into another neighborhood. My superior speed, coupled with the fact that I am tremendously anti-social and don't think he even knows who I am, allowed me to double-back, escape, and slip unseen into my house. As a precaution, we will not be answering our front door for the next 6 months, so if you are coming to visit, call in advance. The secret code is "beet root".

Day One Hundred Ninety-Four

2006-05-09T21:53:00.000-05:00

Today prioritize your dreams.

The Top 10
1. Immortality for me and all my friends, pets, and family.
2. Make a living through one of the creative passions that consume my free time, most likely writing.
3. Own a large--but not too large--house on a large, several acre lot with big, mature trees and no neighbors within 75 yards but close to all the suburban conveniences I enjoy. And with a kick ass home theater in the basement. And a pool. And a cement plot for a basketball hoop with a glass backboard and breakaway rim. And a shed to brew my own beer. And a garden to grow my own herbs and vegetables. And the time and equipment to do all of my own landscaping.
4. Pay-off my student loans.
5. Become friends with Conan O'Brien.
6. Be interviewed by Rolling Stone.
7. Spend more time playing video games, PC or console.
8. Retire.
9. Travel the world--most of it--without having to fly in an airplane, or fly at all, for that matter. I hate flying. With the passion of eleven fiery suns.
10. Become a Jedi Knight.

Day One Hundred Ninety-Three

2006-05-08T20:18:00.000-05:00

Today spend as much time as possible in the sun.

Oh-kay...

I actually opened the blinds at work today. Does that count? I ran three miles, but it was a little overcast by then. This just didn't work out, and it was completely out of my control. Mother Nature is an uncooperative bitch. If this blog fails because of today's post, I will hunt her down and either slice her up like an Easter ham or turn her over to the Federal government for detention in one of their resorts in Guantanamo or Eastern Europe, whichever is worse.

Day One Hundred Ninety-Two

2006-05-07T21:07:00.000-05:00

Family Love Day.

This was supposed to be about incest, but the MDC clan doesn't swing that way. Ironically, I was visiting my parents yesterday and today, in honor of Mrs. C's birthday and Mother's Day. I did a lot of yard work and got to use a chainsaw, which is always a bonus.

Day One Hundred Ninety-One

2006-05-06T20:57:00.000-05:00

Bury a treasure today. Place your treasure in a sealed box. One day, when you're broke and/or civilization has crumbled you'll be glad to dig it up and live off the contents.

Hopefully, in the future old G.I. Joe action figures from the mid-1980s will be very valuable. I buried Quick Kick, Alpine, Duke, and Baroness today.

Day One Hundred Ninety

2006-05-05T20:51:00.000-05:00

Follow these directions:

Walk straight for fifteen minutes: In a neighborhood, in someone's back yard.

Take the first left: In the middle of the street

Turn left again: In a circle.

Walk straight for twenty-five minutes: After passing through several yards, in a forest preserve.

Cross the nearest bridge or footpath: A small bridge over a stream.

Turn right: On the bank of the stream.

Cross the road: Took a while to get back to the road.

Walk straight for thirty minutes: In a different neighborhood.

Board the nearest bus and get off after three stops: This is the suburbs, there is no public transit.

Walk straight for six minutes: Still on the same street.

Stop and stretch: Okay.

Get a taxi home: I think I'll walk...

Day One Hundred Eighty-Nine

2006-05-04T21:35:00.000-05:00

Don't waste the 4 minutes 22 seconds (on average) you will spend on the toilet. Read the much neglected Old Testament Book of Habakkuk instead and try to improve yourself.

Being as I spend way more than the "average" time on the toilet, I took on a bigger challenge: Henry Darger's The Story of the Vivian Girls, in What is known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinnian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion. It's only about 15,000 pages long, so I got most of the way through it. Man, that guy was messed up.

Day One Hundred Eighty-Eight

2006-05-03T21:35:00.000-05:00

Today, get a life coach.

I created a Virtual Life Coach. Basically, I took a little digital recorder and recorded myself saying various life affirming and encouraging catch-phrases, including but not limited to...

"Go for the Gold!"
"You can do it!"
"Don't be afraid to be yourself!"
"Take charge!"
"You have to love yourself first!"
"I'm good enough, smart enough, and, gosh-darnit, people like me!"
"Serenity now!"
"And so forth."

Now, whenever I reach a difficult place in life, I can press play on the little recorder and hear as many positive messages as I need, pushing my problems deep down into the dark, evil recesses of my soul, until they reach critical mass, boil over, and send me into a murderous rage. Yay!

Day One Hundred Eighty-Seven

2006-05-02T21:34:00.000-05:00

Pick up litter in the street today.

One man's trash is another man's treasure. Unfortunately, that doesn't apply to broken beer bottles and condom wrappers. I guess I should feel fortunate that I live in a fairly clean neighborhood. Clean literally. Based on the trash, figuratively, my neighbors are oh so dirty...

Day One Hundred Eighty-Six

2006-05-01T20:10:00.000-05:00

Cleanliness day. Today become as clean as the day you were born by really cleaning those hard to reach crevices that most people overlook.

Does the public really want to know about my crevices?

For the record, at 8 pm I have already taken two showers today, which is about average for a week day. Some weekend days I hit three. Anyway, I scrubbed extra hard and spent a little extra time, cycling through my already thorough shower routine, including...

-Soaping shoulders to toes with Irish Spring Sport
-Using an initial lather of Neutrogena Residue Removal shampoo and a secondary lather of Garnier Fructise Volumizing shampoo
-Scrubbing my face with a foaming wash

Wasn't that interesting?

Day One Hundred Eighty-Five

2006-04-30T20:53:00.000-05:00

Join a political party today.

Ah, the political party, the Great Identifier. Not belonging to a political party has been a point of personal pride for several years. In my voting career, I have cast ballots for Republicans, Democrats, and Libertarians. Now, forced to choose, I think I am going to send my personal information to the Libertarian Party of Illinois.

It's a real shame, however, that at this point I can't imagine ever getting to vote for a Libertarian candidate in any circumstance where my ballot would mean anything more than a gesture of support. With the exception of when I voted for Barack Obama last year, I can't remember a time I voted where I wasn't merely settling for the lesser of two evils--I guess those times in college when I voted for the candidates with the strangest names could count--and that is the most disheartening prospect in a whole list of disheartening prospects faced by the young American voter. Sometimes I just wish America was a monarchy and I didn't have to worry about--oh wait, we are a monarchy. Never mind...

Day One Hundred Eighty-Four

2006-04-29T15:44:00.000-05:00

How memorable is your everyday conversation. Today highlight the wittiest things you say.

"I'm getting tired. I'm going to need some meth to stay awake for this."

"I like Oscar Wilde quite a bit."

"I download and buy stuff in the store, like, if it's something seminal, like when the new Pearl Jam comes out this week, I'll got to the store and physically buy a copy."

"Trip. Trip McNeely. That guy was a sexual icon."

"There are a lot of people here that look like people we know but aren't. A lot of 'poor man's versions' of different people."

"I don't remember where we parked. I never pay attention."

"That might have been one of the best sandwiches I've ever eaten."

Day One Hundred Eighty-Three

2006-04-28T15:43:00.000-05:00

Sense-less Day. Today go without your sense of smell.

I got some weird looks with two little cork stoppers in my nostrils. I didn't so much mind not smelling things; I could still taste, and my world is generally not very smelly, so I wasn't dodging a lot of foul odors. I did mind, however, having to breathe through my mouth all day due to the stoppers. That was painful.

Day One Hundred Eighty-Two

2006-04-27T15:43:00.000-05:00

Today return to childhood.

I took an afternoon nap. It wasn't entirely by choice. I took some generic allergy/cold medicine at 1:30, and by time I pulled into my driveway at 3:10, I was so worked by the meds that I didn't even try to pull into the garage. I don't know/remember how I got home. I just know that I crashed on the couch at 3:15 and didn't become alert again until 5:20.

I do enjoy an occasionally nap, although not as much as I did in college. Conversely, when I was an actual child, I hated naps. This hate, combined with my supreme intelligence, created one of my fondest pre-five years of age memories. I had a little nightlight attached to one of the posts of my bed, and this was the early eighties, it had an actual bulb. Well, I didn't want to be held in my nap, so I removed the bulb and shocked myself so that I would have to be taken from my nap for a little first aid. Brilliant.

Day One Hundred Eighty-One

2006-04-26T22:08:00.000-05:00

Today write to your County asking that your street be renamed after you.

Dear County Government Representative:

I would like to submit, in writing, that you change the current name of my street, Lakeridge Court, to MDC Circle. First of all, "Circle" is far superior to "Court". Now I don't know the origin of the use of the word "Court" to describe a street that ends in a circular fashion with no outlet, but it had better be good. Also, "Lakeridge" adheres to one of the most evil of the many evil suburban trends: taking two nature-sounding words, clumping them together, and using this clump as a name. Observe this and other offenders...

Lake+Ridge
Maple+Bluff
Evergreen+Downs
Sunset+Lakes
Timber+Knolls
Willow+Hills
Oak+Grove

You can literally go on for days making these inane combinations, and every singe combination you make could probably be found on a street sign or tacked to the stone "gate" marking the start of a sub-division or condo community. There are, like, thirty suburbs of Chicago with the word "Hills" or "Grove" in the name. Sickening. The only exception would be to name a suburb or a sub-division "Grassy Knoll" after the famed Grassy Knoll that shot JFK.

MDC is obscure, plus it bucks the trend. Do it now, or you will not receive my property taxes, and that hurts the school children who need that tax revenue so that the leaky roofs of their asbestos filled classrooms don't collapse and destroy the trumpet, three textbooks, and two junior sized basketballs that all 800 children in the 500 child capacity school must share. Is that what you want? Because if you do, you hate children. You don't want everyone to know you hate children, do you? Then change the name.
Sincerely,
MDC

Day One Hundred Eighty

2006-04-25T21:30:00.000-05:00

Spend today pretending to be a tourist.

The first essential part of this experiment was the donning of a fanny pack. In it I stashed my wallet, cell phone, and a pack of gum, but the contents are rather inconsequential. At the gas station, where I stopped for morning coffee, I asked a blue collar-looking fellow if he would take my picture in front of the sign advertising the gas prices, explaining, with my best non-descript foreign-sounding accent, that "in my country, price of gas seventy-two American cent per liter."

After work, I stopped at a Subway and asked four different people if they knew how to get to the Van Wicken Memorial Monument, which doesn't actually exist. Then, I bought a turkey sub, took one bite, and spit it out explaining "in my country, turkey is served brazed with the fur and tentacles still attached".

I also stopped at the grocery store to buy some "authentic American Beer". When asked for ID to purchase the tall boy of PBR, I presented a piece of green construction paper with a yellow smiley face drawn on it, referring to it as my "green card".

I capped off the experiment by driving a few blocks on the left--wrong here in the States--side of the road.

Day One Hundred Seventy-Nine

2006-04-24T20:17:00.000-05:00

Measure your temperature day.

My 5 p.m. peak came after lifting weights and running three miles in the 90 minutes prior. This exercise blew my theory the theory I had going that I am a cold-blooded animal. Now I have to think up a new excuse for when people ask me why my heart is so black and so cold.

Day One Hundred Seventy-Eight

2006-04-23T19:31:00.000-05:00

Today go through a phase.

Today I went through a "Granola Phase".
Sample Quotes:

"Simplify man!"
"Gas money, sounds like you're workin' for your car, man."
"Save the rainforest."

I also...
*Wore Birkenstocks
*Ate tofu
*Didn't bathe. Well, not until afternoon, at least. That's what snapped me out of my "Granola Phase". In fact, the shock of waiting five hours after waking to bathe caused me to revert. I cut down several tall trees, then went out and slaughtered a cow, cooked it over the trees after lighting them with several barrels of crude oil.

Day One Hundred Seventy-Seven

2006-04-22T19:29:00.000-05:00

Try to seduce someone way out of your league.

When you're in my league, you can only go down...

Just kidding. I can go up and out of my league, but it has to be a celebrity. This went out with the post this afternoon:

Dear Lisa Loeb:

You are adorable. I know you are a marginal celebrity, and you live a glamorous life, but I think we would make an excellent match. I have watched several episodes of your reality show, and I think your biggest mistake has been seeking men your own age. I am several years younger, and quite immature for my age. Also, in high school, when your video for "Stay" was on MTV's top twenty afternoon countdown, in the days before TRL when MTV stilled showed videos all the way through, I taped the countdown and then recorded the audio from the VHS tape to an audio cassette I could play in my car. Also on that tape were the songs "Blackhole Sun" by Soundgarden and "Vaseline" by the Stone Temple Pilots.

In conclusion, I encourage you to fill out the stamped, self-addressed reply card I have included in the envelope, and maybe we can arrange a time to meet. My girlfriend is also a big fan, and I am sure she would like to meet you. Maybe you can stay at our house. Talk to you soon.

Sincerely,
MDC

Day One Hundred Seventy-Six

2006-04-21T19:28:00.000-05:00

Lost Dog Day. Put up a "Lost Dog" ad and see whether one turns up.

Ad:
Wanted, Lost Dog
Fur, paws, and tale
Contact MDC at (xxx) xxx-xxxx

Several times I have marveled at the creativity required to come up with 365 different "tasks". A few times, however, I realize how difficult this is because the task for that day is garbage. This is a prime example. What the hell, Benrik?

Day One Hundred Seventy-Five

2006-04-20T21:47:00.000-05:00

Go on Strike!

I actually oppose strikes as a serious means of workplace negotiation, but that's a different story altogether. I picketed once in high school, kind of, but my sign was a fake. It encouraged people to vote for me for Lieutenant Governor. My friend's sign stated that he was running for State Senate. His grandpa helped us make them, supplying wood and tools. We took them down to the busiest street corner in our town and marched a little and waved the signs at cars. I believe we were sixteen at the time, and in the pictures I have of the event I am wearing shorts and a hooded sweatshirt, so it must have been spring. I doubt any election was in the near future. Nevertheless, lots of people honked. But we weren't really on strike, so I'm not sure that counts as picketing. I am a member of a union, however, but in the event of a strike I would prefer to be a "Scab", just so long as I didn't get "soaked" by a "strike-breaker". That wouldn't be cool. That's all I have to say about that.

Day One Hundred Seventy-Four

2006-04-19T21:39:00.000-05:00

Body hair day. Celebrate your ape ancestry by tending to your body hair.

Head Hair: Sandy blonde and Hot, so Hot!

Chest Hair: Feathered and teased.

Facial Hair: Two days growth of Celebrity-Style Stubble

Arm Hair: Parted and fixed with Dapper Dan Pomade

The rest: None of your damned business.

Day One Hundred Seventy-Three

2006-04-18T21:37:00.000-05:00

Today come up with your own book page idea!

Do I have to do it too, or can I just come up with it?

Actually, we will make this into a bit of an "at-home player" exercise, a la The Bozo Show. So, all of you out there in TVLand, you must complete this task to start on your way to a changed life:

Today, forget to wear underwear! Inform random strangers of this development, starting each sentence with "Just so you know..."

Update--Day One Hundred Seventy-Two--Update

2006-04-18T21:26:00.000-05:00

It is with deep regret that I must announce that the task for Day One Hundred Seventy-Two was a complete and utter failure. I barely made it past midnight. But, by the grace of Fortuna, this may have been a blessing in disguise. As many of you may or may not know, a sleepy MDC is a rambunctious MDC. Had I not been reasonably rested, I may have lacked the self control necessary today when a middle-aged business-looking man pulled up at a stoplight next to me in a DeLorean. It took a great deal of will power--will power that may not have been there had I not slept--to keep from leaning out my window, knocking on the glass to his, and shouting "Hello? Hello? Anybody home? Think McFly, think..." That would have created quite the international incident, and we can't have that in these trying times.

"I have your car towed all the way to your house and all you've got for me is *lite* beer?"

Day One Hundred Seventy-Two

2006-04-17T20:57:00.000-05:00

No sleep day. Tonight, don't go to bed at all and discover what you can achieve in the extra time.

Why did this have to come on a Monday? I am already going on too little sleep from last night. I just can't say "no" to Law and Order: SVU; Detective Benson, you keep me up at night! Anyway, I will do my damndest and see what happens. Updates will come tomorrow.

Disclaimer: Updates will not come until late afternoon at the earliest. Unfortunately I am in week two of my employer's crackdown on blogs in the workplace. Anything with "blog" in the URL is blocked by our web filter, so I will not be able to access this--or any of your blogs, for that matter, that's why I comment far less frequently these days--until I get home. Send your evil thoughts to my employer.

Day One Hundred Seventy-One

2006-04-16T21:29:00.000-05:00

Today stick a message on a fruit.

Day One Hundred Seventy

2006-04-15T22:16:00.000-05:00

Today sell something that you have made.

Do all those false autographs of mid-rate professional athletes count?

Actually, today is the first day that the copy editors at the local cosmopolitan newspaper will look at the four pieces of short fiction I contributed to the collaborative fiction serial that will run in a month or so. The final revisions were due for submission last night at midnight; a four part arc that intertwines with twelve other story arcs of between two and four stories in length will run this spring and summer. And, as they run, I will get fifty dollars per story. Sold.

Day One Hundred Sixty-Nine

2006-04-14T22:01:00.000-05:00

Today speak only in cliches.

You know it's tough, maintaining a high-profile blog like this. But, I try to take it one day at a time, giving it one hundred and ten percent every day. Because it's really about staying within yourself. And when I struggle, I try to connect with my inner child. That, sometimes, kills two birds with one stone. Because if life gives you lemons, you've just got to make lemonade. Bad things happen to the best of us, and if you just keep remembering that what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. Only all good things must come to an end. Life sucks and then you die.

Day One Hundred Sixty-Eight

2006-04-13T22:30:00.000-05:00

This task is for women only, so I get the day off.

Day One Hundred Sixty-Seven

2006-04-12T21:15:00.000-05:00

2-D Voodoo Doll.

I am construction my own doll rather than attempting to create a facsimile of the one provided in the book.

Presenting, the Kevin Federline Voodoo Doll (patent pending)
The letters represent Bad Voodoo Pins placed on the doll's body. See the handy guide below the image for explanations as to the strategic placement of the pins.

Pin A: A curse on K Fed's hat collection. May all of his ridiculous head gear burn in a fire of epic proportions.

Pin B: A curse on K Fed's heart. May Britney Spears break it, divorce him, and leave him penniless.

Pin C: A curse on K Fed's man parts. May he never impregnate another C-list celebrity, and may he never cause another celebrity to drop to the C-list by impregnating her. In fact, may he shoot blanks for the rest of his life.

Pin D: A curse on K Fed's hands. May his absurd string of good luck finding sugar-momma's end and force this low-life to use his hands to actually work for a living.

Pin E: A curse on K Fed's mouth. May he never rap again. Strike that, reverse it. May he never attempt to rap again.

Day One Hundred Sixty-Six

2006-04-11T19:48:00.000-05:00

Today get someone famous to autograph this page.

As you all know, I am not actually recording things in the book; I am doing it here. Thus, my autograph:

Day One Hundred Sixty-Five

2006-04-10T21:58:00.000-05:00

Develop your very own eccentricity.

Eccentricities by nature are exclusive, often forming an identity for the people displaying them. Therefore, today I became "That Guy who Spells the Last Word of Every Sentence", such as...

"This weekend I left town to visit my p-a-r-e-n-t-s."

"This weather is n-i-c-e."

"I don't like salad dressings with a strong taste of v-i-n-e-g-a-r."

"Son of Sanford and Son is my favorite television s-p-i-n-o-f-f."

"Run! That man is having a h-e-a-r-t-a-t-t-a-c-k!"

Day One Hundred Sixty-Four

2006-04-09T20:46:00.000-05:00

Share someone's pain today.

If only I had started this adventure a week later, this task would have come on Easter Sunday. Oh, think of the possibilities...

As I drove home from a visit to Them That Spawned Me today, I shared the pain of some of the most unfortunate individuals in the Western Hemisphere: People Who Can't Figure Out How to Use the Cruise Control In Their Automobiles.

You know the type. You come upon them on the Interstate Highway System, buzzing along in the right lane. You approach, signal intentions, and pass. Then, three minutes later, these drivers, in an unexplainable Fit of Speed, go flying by. They pass and return to the right lane, only to slow down again five minutes later, forcing you to go around them again. Sometimes, they are even attacked by this Fit of Speed just as you pass them. You've passed their car, and you remain in the left lane to pass another car. The afflicted drivers then, under the control of the aforementioned Fit, speed way up and get right behind you, dangerously close. Then, when you pass the second car and signal to move back into the right lane so these insane people can pass--probably to be passed by you again in about five minutes--they attempt to dart over to the right land first to pass you on the right.

Early identification is the surest way to fight this affliction. If you spot one of these poor souls early, you can share their pain easily by pulling the same asinine, non-cruise-control-using maneuvers that they do. Also, it really helps to pass them and then sit even with another car so that when they come under the spell of a Fit of Speed, they can't get around you.

Day One Hundred Sixty-Three

2006-04-08T20:45:00.000-05:00

Shoplift today.

Sorry, as a man of great Personal Conviction and Moral Fortitude, I have a policy against shoplifting. Of course that policy contains a sub-clause clarifying that is okay to steal from personal residences. But, in the name of bloggo-integrity, I ate two grapes and three pieces of bulk walnuts at the grocery store today. I feel so dirty! I keep scrubbing and scrubbing, but the feeling won't stop! I can't get clean!

Day One Hundred Sixty-Two

2006-04-07T20:44:00.000-05:00

Make prolonged eye contact with everyone you meet.

This works best if you don't say anything for at least fifteen seconds.

Step One: Walk up to someone.
Step Two: Stare at them for between fifteen and fifty-five seconds without saying a word, no matter what that person does.
Step Three: If the person is still willing to engage in a conversation, proceed as if nothing strange happened. If the person attempts to discuss the silent stare, pretend that you don't know what they are talking about and act insulted.
Step Four: Stop talking, and stare silently for another fifteen to fifty-five seconds.
Step Five: Back away, keeping eye contact. After seven paces, turn around and run.

Day One Hundred Sixty-One

2006-04-06T21:06:00.000-05:00

Compose a poem and leave it in a public place to brighten someone's day.

Selected Haikus by MDC...

Two all beef patties
Lettuce and cheese, no pickles,
are all I need, man.

Fit and fiddle tunes
blow out the eye sockets of
shrewd Dutch meter maids.

A femur snaps quick
under the terrible weight
of three super balls.

Conditions negate
fastidious meteors
dispensing black ink.

Randy Myers was
the most stable member of
the Reds' "Nasty Boys".

You're a nasty germ,
suffocating ten thousand
fat, sunning maidens.

Crooning crickets croon
ten thousand anthems of murk
to expectant heirs.

Hiatus seeking,
haute handsome hermaphrodites
heft heaping hacksaws.

Witness fire within
soup-bone semantics changing
fur cloaked suffragettes.

Sick, surge eating worms
flick aside dinner platters
filled with contentment.

Thank you, thank you.

Day One Hundred Sixty

2006-04-05T20:26:00.000-05:00

Today avoid all mirrors. Concentrate on your inner beauty.

But my outer beauty is just so gosh-darned beautiful!

Seriously though, I have had a fear of mirrors at night for a long, long time. When I was a young boy I was a big fan of the TV series Amazing Stories. For those of you unfamiliar with the show, it aired on NBC--I think--on Sunday nights--I'm pretty sure. Created by Steven Spielberg, each 30-minute episode contained a story--I seem to remember each episode having multiple stories, but my research is proving that wrong--that could be classified as sci-fi or fantasy or horror or just plain weird. Each episode also stood on its own as a unique, complete story, unrelated to the other episodes. Fantastic TV, but I digress...

Anyway, one story depicted a wealthy single man who, each time he looks into a mirror, sees a masked man in a black suit, cape, and hat creeping up behind him, preparing to strangle him. When the main character turns to look for the man, he is not there, but if he looks back to the mirror, the stranger returns. Naturally the main character goes crazy, and isconfined to his bed. His girlfriend visits him, and as she leans over him in bed, he sees his reflection in her eyes, and the strange man in black is once more creeping up behind him. Since he is crazy, he can't move and say what's happening, so his girlfriend keeps looking at him, and he keeps seeing the image. Finally, as he sees the strange man grab hold in the reflection, he begins to flail about and grasp his neck, as if being strangled. Then, the main character becomes the man in black and jumps out the window to his death.

Eight-year-old MDC was scared. He avoided all mirrors once it became dark. This lasted a couple of months, possibly a year. And still to this day, if it is late and dark and I am by myself, mirrors creep me out because I expect to see someone coming up behind me in the reflection.

Day One Hundred Fifty-Nine

2006-04-04T22:13:00.000-05:00

Find a way of making a $10 bill grow into a $100 in one day.

Price of small buck knife: $2.00 at a thrift store.
Price of a train ticket to the "bad" part of Chicago: $4.50
Ski mask at Walgreens: $3.50
Holding someone at an ATM at knife-point until they withdraw $100 dollars: Priceless

Day One Hundred Fifty-Eight

2006-04-03T20:09:00.000-05:00

Today break one or several of The Ten Commandments.

See Day One Hundred Fifty-Five.

And, just for good measure:

Jesus sold poison milk to school children! Tell everybody!

Day One Hundred Fifty-Seven

2006-04-02T20:08:00.000-05:00

Human Chess Day. Today behave as if you were playing chess.

I played the role of Bishop today. And not Bishop as in the role Tupac played in Juice, but Bishop as the pointiest, most annoying chess piece on the board. Every where I went today, I moved around by taking two steps forward and one step over, or one step forward and two steps over. It looked odd, and I got a lot of strange glares from people, so I had that going for me. Also, if I was in the way of someone, trying to move out of the way actually put me more in the way, which was an excellent surprise benefit. Finally, note some sample conversations...

Clerk: Thank you for choosing Target, have a nice day.
Me: (winking and pointing) Check-mate.

Snack bar cashier: Would you like to make that a medium popcorn and medium drink for just seventy-five cents more?
Me: (winking and nodding) Check-mate.

Score! Sorry, I mean Check-mate!

Day One Hundred Fifty-Six

2006-04-01T20:07:00.000-06:00

Today redesign an everyday product.

Since I've already experienced tremendous success redesigning the color green, this seemed right up my alley. Two sources inspired my choice to redesign the common, household dog. First was his persistence in being noticed this evening. Second was the persistence of tele-marketers to phone me at inopportune times--hint, any time a tele-marketer calls is inopportune--and my inability to control my rage towards them. The result is the household dog, redesigned to deal with annoying phone solicitors...

Here he is waiting by the phone. Note the pile of destroyed toys behind him. If only the solicitors could see this fierce display, they might think twice about bothering us.

Here he is dealing with a call.*

And finally, here he is awaiting a treat after another foe vanquished.

*In actuality, Sam is performing the "tap" trick. He is trained to, among other seemingly useless tasks, to tap at things on the ground on command. He can operate infomercial TapLights and ring bells. It is, however, exceedingly difficult to capture an actual "tap" on film while giving the command due to the delay caused by the flash.

Day One Hundred Fifty-Five

2006-03-31T22:39:00.000-06:00

Confess to a Priest.

I'm not Catholic, but here goes nothing...

Bless me Father, for I have sinned,
-I worshipped Yoda ahead of you
-I held my cold-smoked wild Alaskan sockeye salmon up on an alter and prayed to it before dining
-While watching The Village, I exclaimed "Jesus Fucking Christ!"
-I have no intention of going to church anytime soon
-While I honored my parents today, I also did a few things they wouldn't be too proud of...
-I smashed a bug on the pavement
-I'm not married, so I couldn't commit adultery, but I do live with a woman who isn't my wife, which isn't too cool by the church in itself
-Two grapes isn't stealing, is it?
-I've lied like six times since I started typing this
-What didn't I covet today? Oy vey!

Plus, I had to look up the ten commandments because I could only remember about three of them, and I'm currently drinking a Hop Devil Ale...

Day One Hundred Fifty-Four

2006-03-30T18:45:00.000-06:00

Hard work day.

Bah. They say hard work is good for the soul. At some point in one's life, yes, that's true. But after you know what "hard work is" and "the value of a dollar" you should take those lessons and strive to do as little work while still acquiring/possessing as much money as possible for the rest of your life.

How do I know this? Well, dear readers, the nature of my profession provides me the privilege, strike that, the entitlement to a one week break each spring. And today I did everything I wanted to and nothing I had to, other than empty the dishwasher. I hit the forest preserve trails on my bike for 80-90 minutes. I went to the off-leash dog park with my dog. I read the paper while relaxing on the couch. I went and got an Americano, my new favorite espresso drink. Who needs work?

Those who say that their jobs fulfill them or form part of the their identity--excluding musicians, athletes, and other artists--are full of elephant shit. I dare anyone who says that he or she would still get up and go to a job everyday if they didn't have to and could still lead a very comfortable lifestyle to take a lie detector test. Sure jobs can be affirming or enjoyable or comfortable, but that doesn't make them better than the alternative. So, being as tomorrow is Friday, take the day off, my treat, and enjoy yourself.

(Beep)

2006-03-29T22:06:00.000-06:00

Please excuse the noted three day absence. The staff has been "wild'n' out" on vacation. Tune in tomorrow as we resume our regularly scheduled programming.

Day One Hundred Fifty-Three

2006-03-27T00:04:00.000-06:00

Talk to a plant for at least one hour.

To my wilting Aloe plant...

"So, how's it going...I know, I know...Look, it's not my fault you're up on top of the fridge...but it's really hard to remember to water you when you're up there...I said, it's not my fault...don't say that. She doesn't mean to...I know, all the other plants in the house get watered, but you're way up there...it is not a murder plot...why would we murder you? You know how many times I've used your aloe...oh, it's been more than that...it has, you're just being ridiculous...yes, aloe is a trend in health food, but I'm not comfortable with that...it would be just weird, that's why...don't do that, come on...look, I'll water you right now...what do you mean 'too little, too late'?...you are a good plant, we do appreciate you...that's not true...I am not leaving her...life was not better when it was just the two of us. We're together, and that's the way it's going to be, and you'll just have to get used to it...Fine, be that way...yes, I'm watering you, and don't try to fight it...water is water, whether you want to call this an empty gesture or not...you know, if you do that again...that's it, I'm leaving. I'm sorry we even had this conversation...fine!"

Day One Hundred Fifty-Two

2006-03-25T22:19:00.000-06:00

Write a message to the future.

Do Not Open Until June 1, 2106...

To whom it may concern,

Hello one hundred years in the future. Hopefully I am still alive. Right now I am rooting hard for stem cells and robot replacement body parts.

March 25, 2006, was a pretty interesting time. In accordance with what I am sure every Generation feels, right now we are all pretty uncertain as to whether the world will be around in 100 years for you to get this message. So if you've made it this far, congrats.

2006 isn't too bad. Sure, there are no flying cars or moon colonies, but I wouldn't trade half of what we consider "modern technology" for either of those things.

It is a distinct possibility that the great-grandson of our current president, George W. Bush, is involved in politics right now. Of course, GW didn't have any male children, so this spawn won't carry the Bush name, but I am sure he is floating around the political spectrum somewhere. That's just how monarchy works.

Hopefully the Terminator trilogy didn't come true.

How many "world" wars have occurred since 2006. Three? Seven?

I really have nothing else to say. I don't know if that's because I am incapable of imagining existence 100 years into the future, or I don't want to and have a sub-conscious self defense mechanism preventing me from doing it to avoid severe depression. Sorry to leave you on that downer.

Sincerely,
MDC

Day One Hundred Fifty-One

2006-03-24T23:11:00.000-06:00

Everyone has a favorite dinosaur. Go to your local natural history museum and make sure yours is properly displayed.

Since I was a small, dinosaur-obsessed boy, my favorite creature from that period has been the Ankylosaurus. They were moderately sized--like me--tough as nails--like me-- and had a huge club attached to their tails that could be swung as a weapon--while I don't have a tail, I do like to swing clubs around as weapons. Our main difference is the Ankylosaurus was a herbivore, and I am an equal opportunity eater. Here is a slick picture of the beast...

And here is the appropriately displayed skeleton. Note the armor and spikes...

And finally, a few facts...

"Ankylosaurus was like a tank, with lots of thick, bony armor on its body. It also had a nasty weapon, a heavy club on the end of its tail, which it could swing around and smash into an attacking dinosaur. There probably weren't many creatures, even a big T. rex, who would want to mess with this guy.
As a defensive creature, Ankylosaurus was one of nature's most perfect designs. It was almost impervious to being bitten from above and its long, strong tail muscles would have been able to swing its club with great force.
There is very little fossil material from this dinosaur - it was apparently the last and largest of this family of armored dinosaurs. It walked fairly upright on all four legs, carrying its tail off the ground and it is theorized that it would drop to the ground when attacked to use its armor as a shield to cover its legs and under belly."

Day One Hundred Fifty

2006-03-23T23:03:00.000-06:00

Reconnect with your aquatic origins by spending all of today underwater.

I did take a bath, but in lieu of the details of that experience--all you need to know is that I use Irish Spring "Sport" soap--I will share the interesting details that Benrik found important to print on this page of the book:

"It is common knowledge that the old theory about man evolving from apes on the dry plains of Africa is wrong. Rather, scientists now believe that man got caught in flooded swamp land and was thus forced to rise from a four-legged posture to a two-legged one, so as to avoid drowning. Hence, the various features that distinguish us from apes: our hairlessness, our capacity to control our breathing, our relatively large proportions of subcutaneous fat."

So does that mean that a relatively smooth chap like myself is descended from a different line than all those burly men with connected chest and back hair sweaters I see in the locker room at the gym?

Day One Hundred Forty-Nine

2006-03-22T12:35:00.000-06:00

Today help resolve an intractable global geopolitical crisis! Redraw maps using colored pencils and crayons and send it to

Secretary-General
United Nations
S-378
New York, NY 10017

I don't need any crayons, pencils, or even maps to redraw boundaries to resolve global crisis. It is very simple. Just mark every oil-producing nation in the world as a colony of United States. They can retain their names and borders, they just need to give up sovereignty. Then, put huge black "Censored" labels on the map over every Third World, poverty stricken nation so that we don't have to think about their problems. Finally, replace any land masses at the Polar caps with water on the maps, because this is going to happen anyway, and it will alleviate a lot of stress if we get the idea out there so people can become accustomed to it. How many words was that?

Day One Hundred Forty-Eight

2006-03-21T17:09:00.000-06:00

Leave a note on someone's car windshield.

Left under the wiper of a late-nineties model Honda Accord with a souped-up exhaust system...

Dear Driver,
While I admire your choice of the reliable, efficient Honda Accord, I do not agree with your choice to enhance the car's exhaust system, and goodness knows what else you have done to this car.

I hear your car, and others like it, screaming through the streets around my home on weekend nights. I see your car, and others like, taking ridiculous chances on the roads, endangering other drivers and pedestrians. Notice I said "other drivers"; I don't care whether or not you are in danger, in fact, I almost encourage it. Go play in traffic.

But alas, I digress. Please take some time to find and/or purchase a clue so that you realize that you are not part of the cast of The Fast and The Furious or any of its horrifying sequels and spin-offs. No one is impressed by your car, the way it sounds, or how it looks. Do us all a favor and push it off a cliff. Or, do us a bigger favor drive it off one. Thank you.

Day One Hundred Forty-Seven

2006-03-20T17:08:00.000-06:00

Change someone's mind today. Only fools never change their mind. Help save someone from such folly by arguing them out of their deeply held views on a controversial subject.

I was walking the dog, and I noticed stacks of paper lodged into the package box on the public mailboxes all around my neighborhood. I walked up to one, and the stacks were letter-sized flyers for Citizens of Options, the local group that opposed the school district's 124 million dollar referendum to build a third high school. The vote being the next day, and me being a concerned citizen, I took the flyers to recycle. The district needs a new high school; I don't want my property value to dip because prospective buys don't want to send their kids to a mega-sized, bursting-at-the-seams high school of 5000 kids that was built to hold 3500. These people, most of whom are crabby parents pitching fits because the attendance boundaries changed, don't need any more publicicity than their obnoxious whining already created.

A woman putting out her trash for the next morning's pick up shouted, "Hey, what are you doing?"

I replied, "Helping people display common sense."

That seemed a sufficient answer to convince that voter.

Day One Hundred Forty-Six

2006-03-19T21:02:00.000-06:00

Famous last words: prepare yours ahead of time.

"I do."

Get it?

Day One Hundred Forty-Five

2006-03-18T21:01:00.000-06:00

Start an urban myth.

A Chicago area doctor was plotting the murder of his wife, who treated him poorly and spent all of his money on clothes and a lavish social life while contributing nothing to the relationship. He planned to plant a lethal dose of a new, experimental medication he had received samples of into her morning oatmeal. The oatmeals accidentally became switched, and he at the poison bowl. The results, however, did not end up as he planned. He became a horribly deformed freak, and was reduced to doing bootleg botox jobs in the back room of a cobbler. Here, he wreaked havoc on the local population of vacuous socialites, ballooning their faces to ridiculous proportions. He moved from suburb to suburb, cobbler to cobbler, until his thirst for vengeance was quenched.

Day One Hundred Forty-Four

2006-03-17T23:46:00.000-06:00

Men only day. Men-celebrate your manhood by doing that which only you can do.

Don't shave and sport a nice coat of stubble: Check.
Spend an hour with a buddy without talking: Does remaining silent while watching a guy-oriented film count? By the way, go see V for Vendetta right now! I don't care if you're in the shower, go right now! Then read what I think of it.
Read comic books when adult: Check. Also, see aforementioned movie endorsement.
Play air guitar: Double Check! I rocked "More than a Feeling"
Pee up a wall: It was a church.
Leave the seat up: Check.
Get a 5$ haircut: Sorry, I've got to draw the line somewhere.

Test Post

2006-03-17T09:30:00.000-06:00

The man is holding me down. Suddenly this morning, I can no longer use the "Edit Posts" functions on Blogspot. This is a test publish to see if I can still actually publish...