Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Panza cervecera

Daily like: Grapefruit.

Daily hate: Utah.

Song of the Day: You Take My Breath Away by The Knife

Saturday, February 24, 2007

Right on, bra.

Photo of the Day: Lee enjoys a pre-game nap on Jenny's shoulder

Song of the Day: Seventeen by Ladytron

Broverload

Soooooooo many bros!!!! I have never seen so many hooded sweatshirt wearing 27 year-olds in my life! If you are hella hyped on hella stupid shit that has everything to do with pretending to like skateboarding and snowboarding and nothing to do with liking it then right now you are probably downstairs in the Pan-Pacific hotel of Vancouver, Canada. I think I'm going insane. Anyway I'll write a full report later. Hopefully some funny shit will happen tonight. To fill the gap I am posting a message that I got from my friend Kevin who I used to live with during my Arizona State days. He is one of the funnier people I have ever known.

From: Kevin

Haha, yeah, that song always was a weakness in me (get it ... ok, fucking stupid, I know). Yeah, blogs are funny, they almost make me feel dirty, like I am watching a person through their window, except they want me to watch, and so the try to entertain me, but I am not so easily entertained, so they keep pushing the envelope, and soon they start pissing on endangered animals before using them as sex toys, or something. I am in Omaha, ne, still going to medical school. I'm almost done with my first year, it hasn't been so bad, everyone exaggerates the hell out of how hard it is. I really want to go to Seattle in 3 years for my residency, as UW has some amazing programs, so hopefully that will happen. That is cool you are going to mexico, sounds like a lot of fun. I wish I had money and time to travel, but I have always been too lazy to work. So, basically, my life is just studying and wasting time.
I hope your diet is going well. I still fondly remember peering out our patio door at the beginning of sophomore year, seeing your chiseled body with the type of tan usually reserved for the 80 year old, diet-pill addicted widows in florida trailer parks. It was very sexy. Write back, and don't be surprised if I start to leave rude remarks on your "blog",

Kevin

Friday, February 23, 2007

Our Beautiful "Neighbour" to the North

What do you get when you combine a 6'5" skinny kid with a perm, a hairy, raging alcoholic, a free hotel room, and an open bar equipped with enough alcohol to intoxicate Paul Bunyan? That's right, you get a fucking weekend. Now transplant the whole scenario into Vancouver, Canada, and add a healthy desire for debauchery. Sprinkle the whole dish with standards that would make a blind man seem picky. The end result? 100% insanity.
At 7:30pm pacific standard time Barry Sevig and I will depart on a life-changing (at least liver changing) odyssey to Vancouer to participate in the annual snowboard industry tradeshow in which Barry's intership company Signal Snowbards will have a tent. We will be the two men (see: boys) manning the tent. I could not think of two more adept people for this task, nor could I think of two people with a higher chance of steering it towards disaster. I will have my computer with me at all times and hopefully be able to provide up to the minute reports. Wish us luck and have a good weekend!

-Boosh Clown

p.s. shoot to thrill, play to kill

Song of the Day: Move by Sol Peppy

Bonus Song of the Day: Am I Wry? No. by Mew

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

P.S.


Song of the Day: Inch Allah by MC Solaar

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Ummm

The Hammers Program is no more. It is Mardi Gras. It is Tuesday. Barry and I are drinking wine in my room about to go out to Tommy's, the worst place in the world. Full report to come tomorrow. Suerte!

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Hockey, Fishing, and Crystal Meth (Post #2)

On my way home from the IMA today I was stopped by a woman asking for directions. She was driving a minivan and wearing what appeared to be a “Spiderman” jersey (imagine a red hockey jersey with a large embroidered spider on the front). Undoubtedly a meth addict, the woman asked me how to get to the parking lot on the southeast side of the IMA soccer fields. She said that she just wanted “to get to a dock” so that she could “go fishing”. I assumed “fishing” was some kind of street slang for amphetamines, so I suggested she might try the local mental health clinic. However, she seemed insistent on getting to a dock, so I gave her directions. It so happened that the road she was on at the time was the one that led to the parking lot (albeit by curving around the soccer fields), so I told her that she could arrive at her desired destination simply by driving in the contrary direction.
This woman was really quite a spectacle. She was the only one in the car and had at least 3-4 fishing rods in the back. Her minivan was also decorated with an array of ghost decals (yes, ghosts, like Casper), including a huge rather spooky one on the back windshield.
She was obviously not familiar with the concept that sometimes one must go around an obstacle to get to his/her destination, a concept that even my late golden retriever had mastered with apparent ease. So, the hockey-jersey clad woman did a U-Turn (on the sidewalk), drove off, and I was left to shake my head in amazement and marvel at the fact that she had somehow evaded the process of natural selecion.


Song of the Day #2: Don't Cry by Guns 'n Roses

You Sordid Minx

I am feeling particularly saucy today and have two posts for your reading pleasure, both of them probably equally bad. I'm at Odegaard because Timmy is a fuckhead and now the library is the closest place I can get internet. It's nice though, because I'm watching the kids skate in Red Square (the cops just came) and listening to Love by Zoe and downloading music. Gov'na do you have change for a five pence!?!? Here's post #1 (written last night):

I am going to Mexico City March 10th. This date could not come sooner. I am sick of driving the fucking University Volkswagen/Audi shuttle. I am sick of having people call in and say, “Hi, I’m in Magnolia and I need to be picked up right now.” I usually respond something along the lines of: “Unfortunately, ma’am, I already have a scheduled pickup and wouldn’t be able to pick you up in Magnolia until about 645pm.”
“Soooo, what should I do then? I mean, they told me to call you and that you could pick me up with the shuttle service.”
“Ma’am, let’s slow down here and pretend for just one second that you’re not completely retarded. In that case you might understand that I could pick you up right now hadn’t 4 other people desiring a similar service already called me to schedule pickups. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but the earliest I would be able to be it out there is 645pm.”
“Sooo, what am I supposed to do?”
“Well, ma’am, I would recommend you walk to Discovery Park. It is a beautiful park in your neighborhood made up of grassy bluffs that overlook the Puget Sound. In fact, near the parts where you have a good view of the Sound there are some fairly steep embankments that plunge about 100 feet to the rocks below. I would suggest you throw yourself off one of these embankments, but not before cutting your wrists. However, if this doesn’t sound appealing, you could always take the bus.”
That is the question that kills me, that has actually been posed to me several times. “What am I supposed to do?” “I don’t know, fucking reverse crab-walk all the way to the dealership while you sing “Africa” by Toto and scream at people, ‘I’m not crazy, you’re crazy! Are you actually asking me that question? Do you want my honest anwswer? Hang up the fucking phone and never call me again.”
Anyway as you can see I am somewhat jaded on the subject.


Well another Friday of sobriety. I wouldn’t say that its getting old, but I’m definitely going a little stir crazy. However, I know this stir-craziness could easily be solved by activity such as soccer, skateboarding, or snowboarding. Which is why I’m staying sober in the first place, so I will heal up fast and be able to do these activities. Stay strong, Mark, Jimm is 6 feet under where he belongs. Guiveda moved to Beacon Hill where there’s better Enchiladas, and he’s never coming back.

Song of the Day #1: Sing me Spanish Techno by The New Pornographers

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Jimm or Nothing


I am looking down at Guiveda and trying to figure out what to write. Although I sent Guiveda packing roughly a week ago, he still has some luggage here, in the form of fat rolls. Guiveda is a product of my achilles tendonitis, but he also represents a quality of my life: excess. The diet I am on has made me realize that I have a very "all or nothing" personality. It seems that I walk a fine line between total excess and total abstinence. Here is an example to illustrate both scenarios. Scenario 1) Total Excess: Waking up on a strange couch and peaking through the blinds to learn that I am somewhere on 25th AVE. I have no shoes, no keys, and absolutely no idea whose house I am in. I try to put the pieces together, find something that I recognize. The only decoration in the living room is a large, framed Papa John's poster. Down the stairs leading to the living room walks a young Asian kid who is evidently on his way to class. He looks at me giggles at my hopeless, confused state before continuing out the door. After searching in vain for my shoes, phone, and dignity, I leave the house. It is February, and I am barefoot. The cold, granulated cement of the sidewalk hurts my feet and I walk to the 74, which I board, still barefoot. To this day I have no idea whose houes it was. Scenario 2) Total Abstinence: aka the Hammers Program. If you have read this blog at all you know that I am currently on a diet that prohibits alcohol, caffeine, junk food (i.e. candy, Hostess cupcakes, melted-down Jolly Ranchers in a casserole bowl), and fast food. The diet is going well: I feel the healthiest I have in a long time. But what I am discovering is that I need to do what most humans already have, which is find a middle ground. I need balance. After all, maybe I don't have to choose between turning down a handful of skittles and saying yes to a shot of Bacardi 151 in Lake Chelan and then blacking out only to return to consciousness because Mike is screaming at me to battle the minor forest fire that is engulfing our campsite. Maybe I can find a middle ground, which is what I will try to do after this last week of the complete Hammers Program. Maybe, for the first time in my life, I can learn to indulge in moderation. Happy Valentines day.

-Boosh Clown

Song of the Day: My Funny Valentine from the Talented Mr. Ripley Soundtrack


p.s. Let's get hammered!

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Friends R 4 Evr

I feel these text messages between Andy Bunker and I nicely sum up our friendship (message sent from the 2nd floor of the HUB).

Me: "Unless someone breaks down the door or shits in the sink I will be the only one pooping in this bathroom. It's the little things, Andy."

Andy: "I miss you."

It is nice to know that you are loved on Valentine's day.

Fuck

I just finished a 5 page paper, and then lost it. I'm at Odegaard. I want to cry.
I think I will.

Monday, February 12, 2007

I Fucking Did It!

I fucking Did It! I went a week (including the weekend, i.e. Friday, and Saturday) without drinking! Just wanted to comment, and say that I will be doing another week of the Hammers Program. I realize that some of you might be disappointed, and fear that these posts will get extremely lame now that I am not "partying." You may be very well be right. You may very well be assholes. Either way, I have decided to start a new section called "The Cuba Memoirs," to commemorate the 10 days that Jenny Newman and I spent in Cuba in October 2006 that I never wrote about. The first installment will be later today, or possibly right now (although I kind of have to go to the bathroom which could involve a trek to the tranquil trellace that is the 2nd floor bathroom of the HUB). ¡Patria hasta la muerte!
- Boosh Clown

Song of the Day: Theres is a song from the movie "Sólo Dios Sabe" that I want so bad. If you go to this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBv8KP3WVOc
It's the song at minute 1:37 and I know it's by Julieta Venegas and a Brazilian guy named "Otto" but I can't find it anywhere and it is starting to cause my very moral fiber to decompose. Please help.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Guiveda R.I.P.


My beer belly’s name is Guiveda. He has been a faithful companion to me for several years. He makes funny (and hairy) faces at me to cheer me up when I’m sad, and urges me to “let loose” and “live a little” when I feel encumbered by the pressures of university life. We have traveled to the ends of the earth together: the sultry beaches of Guatemala, the bustling streets of Mexico City, the sub-zero outdoor bars of Whistler, and Bremerton. I have always kept him happy on a steady diet of apple danishes, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and poor decision-making. Above all, we have been joined harmoniously by the insatiable urge to “party.” But sadly, it is time for Guiveda to go. My new diet, aka the Hammers program, has in effect caused me to turn over a new leaf, one that, unfortunately for Guiveda, yields no Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers or Busch Light 40s on the other side.

Last night I went to three bars and drank no alcohol. At Finn McCool’s, the last bar, I got a water. Despite the severe stomach cramps due to Guiveda tearing out his hair in frustration, I had a great time.

But the best thing is that I woke up this morning feeling tremendous. It was probably the first time I hadn’t been hung over on a Saturday morning since I was 7. I went to the IMA where I ran the elliptical, swam, and dodged disgusting naked men in the locker room. I left feeling fresh, breathing the crisp air with a clear head. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this good.

So there you have it. Today I buried two good friends: Guiveda, and Jimm. I will keep the Hammers Program up for at least one more week, and pending my progress I will think about delving back into moderate drinking. I will not, however, binge drink until my Achilles tendonitis is gone. That is a promise.

The catalyst for this extended diet?: I was walking down the hall towards the locker room in the IMA and passed the pictures of winning intramural sports teams from the last few years. One photo in particular caught my eye. It was the winning IMA soccer team from spring 2006: Chow Pang. Everyone in the picture looked so happy: arms around eachother, comical expressions, Jaxin Sykward wearing a “Justified” t-shirt. Only one person was missing from the picture: me.
So fuck you Jimm and fuck you Guiveda. It’s been fun.

-Boosh Clown


Song of
the Day: Heute Ist Mein Tag by Blümchen

Bonus Song of the Day: The Party’s Crashing Us by Of Montreal



p.s. I buried Jimm with a shovel…

Photo Credit: Jenny Newman

Thursday, February 8, 2007

My Favorite Animal

The Black Mambas are found in pairs or small groups. They are very nervous, and head away fast when a human approaches. When the mamba feels threatened it will raise its front and head about 3-4 feet off the ground, open its mouth, spread a flat hood, and shake its head. When they attack they will make several quick strikes, and escape as fast as they can. They can strike from 4-6 feet away. Before antivenins were developed, a black mamba bite was 100% fatal.

They are invulnerable, because no animal can actually kill them. Their venom can kill just about anything, so they don't have much to worry about. The mamba is mainly threatened by habitat destruction.

by Allison F. 2000.

Rabbit: You Will Pay in Droves

I'm at Odegaard on the internet. A few days ago I arrived home from work and absent-mindedly clicked on Aquisition to download "Aun Hay Algo" by Rebelde and was mortified to see that my internet no longer worked. And by my internet I mean the internet I was stealing from a kid named "Timothy" who lives in my building. Timothy has a wireless account named "rabbit" that I had been using without problem since moving in. His Limewire library, "T I m O T h Y' s T u N e S," showed up on my computer. I soon learned that Timothy's has exquisitely bad taste in music(I didn't know people could listen to 3 Doors Down without committing suicide, or Creed without committing triple murders in the name of the "Lord our Jesus"). But like most criminals, I was apprehended due to my own brash, fool hearty attitude. You see, Timmy didn't know I was stealing his wireless, because Timmy couldn't see my library on his computer. Timmy was probably as happy as a three-toed sloth in the rain forest, gleefully chatting away to his big-boned internet girlfriend in Flagstaff while downloading the latest hit track from "Nickelback." Which is why Timmy has to die. Because now I am at Odegaard, and I'm glowing slightly not from the healthy new diet, but because it is at least 87º degrees in here. Anyone who has been at Odegaard for more than a few hours knows that the insanity creeps in like a plague of locusts. First it is northing more than a faint buzzing in the distance. Then, without warning, one finds himself sweating profusely, trudging through a jungle of 4,000 computers, fluorescent lights, red-gray office chairs, and a group of Bio-Chem kids giggling and loudly eating "Bugles." It is no place for rational thought, which is why I must now leave.

Songs of the Day: Le Vent Nous Portera by Noir Desir and Manu Chao, and Veo los Muertos by Arianna Puello

Song of the Day if you don't like gay songs where they don't "talk English": Fuck Forever by Babyshambles

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Dipset

Did you know that an entire box of Tyson spicy buffalo wings only has 3 carbs? Yea, I bet you didn't fuck-face. Neither did I, until Mike petitioned yesterday that I keep my eye out for low carb food at Safeway due to his newly aquired version of a slightly different Hammers Program. It is a strange and disturbing thought that one could commit suicide by devouring a large bag of Skittles.
My Hammers Program is going well. I feel healthier, as if there is a glow about my skin that, once stunted by intoxicants, has now risen to the surface in all of its jubilant splendor. This is not to say that I'm not still a fatty. Because I am. I'm disgusting. But I am heading down the path of englightenment one Sprite Zero at a time.

Monday, February 5, 2007

Mala sangre

I have just donated blood and am therefore running "a pint low," as they said. I will say that my donating blood today completely owes itself the fact that I just finished the book "Yes Man" by Danny Wallace, a book in which he attempts to say "Yes" to everything for a year. "Are you looking at my girlfriend?" "Yes." So today I saw a sign on campus that said "Donate Blood" and and I said "Yes" (it was probably actually more of an "OK"). In other news I have been rather preoccupied today with what I am going to do for spring break aka whether or not I am going to go to Mexico City. It's just that there is this girl I really want to see.

Update: The Hammers Program is going smoothly. My diet today has consisted of an Odwalla (superfood), a Nutri-Grain bar, two slices of Pagliacci, and the snacks they give you after donating blood which included some cranberry juice and talking to a girl who grew up in Hong Kong. The cranberry juice was non-alcoholic so there was no risk of blackout. That said, I feel like absolute butthole right now. I didn't get to sleep last night till about 2:45am and had to wake up at 7:55am which might have something to do with it. Plus I have come to utterly dread going to work to drive the University Audi/Volkswagen shuttle, but that is another other topic that I do not want to address right now. Fucking take the bus! Cheers!

Song of the Day: The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living by The Streets

Sunday, February 4, 2007

Hammers Program

Today at 8:50pm Pacific Standard time I will embark on a rigorous health plan aimed at reducing the size of my stomach which has officially moved me from the category of "possesses minor beer belly," to, "completely and utterly obese." The desired duration of the plan aka "Hammers Program" will be 1 week (ending Sunday February 11 at 8:50pm). A slight allowance for Sparks may have to be made if I go to Bellingham this weekend to hang out with the snowboard club and watch Barry participate in the Banked Slalom. This allowance will be no more than a 6 pack of Sparks for the entire weekend and is absolutely necessary if I am to survive the harsh climate and exasperating plentitude of underage snow bunnies. Other than that the Hammers Program will prohibit the following foods: Caffeine, Alcohol (Busch Light included), Candy, and Fast Food (excludes Pagliacci (I'm only human)). For mental health purposes I will adhere to the following rules: Maximum one(1) daily visit to facebook, no using the MacBook unless I am actively downloading songs or talking to someone on messenger, and no fat chicks. This program will undoubtedly prove to be a painstaking test of my almost non-existent willpower. But crawl before you walk. Starting.......now!

Saturday, February 3, 2007

Shoes

Oh my god!

Lock up your collective daughters!

The 2007 Seattle to Buenos Aires Side-car Rally is officially in its early stages of planning. Here is the rudimentary plan: Darren Berg, and I, Mark Wetzler, will embark late August/early September from Seattle. Final destination: Buenos Aires, Argentina. Our equipment will include: (1) Motorcycle, (1) Side-car, (2) helmets, (2) oversized old fashioned leather aviator goggles, (1) bottle of vodka, (2) poorly functioning streams of consciousness. Goals include: Visiting hella countries, and singing Tony the Beat (a lot). !!!!!!!!!!

Song of the Day: Painted by Numbers by The Sounds

Crudo

I'm sitting in my single bed in my studio feeling pretty worthless. I think I kept with my New Year's resolution last night of not blacking out. I'm fairly sure. I remember being at Fourno's. I remember leaving, or at least talking about leaving. I don't, persay, remember walking home. But who remember's walking home, especially if it's uneventful. When I'm 78 years old and talking to my grandkids how many stories am I going to tell them about walking home? Narry a story, I would venture to say.
The culprit in last night's drinking debacle was Trippel, brought to us by the New Belgiam Brewing co. (same people that make Fat Tire). This snake in the grass will sneak up and bite you like a black mamba if caution is not thrown to the wind. Coming in at 7.8% it makes sense to be careful, especially if you have a problem with alcohol consumption. Unfortunately this put me in a difficult situation given my complete lack of self control. So now I am sitting in my small bed and my head feels like a medicine ball, achy and stuffed with snot. I know the Aleve in my medicine cabinet will not help me. Please call 206 962 0961 if you have any suggestions.
Hella hotties.

Friday, February 2, 2007

A bastion of tranquility

I come to you today from one of my favorite places on campus: the men's bathroom on the second floor of the HUB. In this solitary stall, this untrafficked bathroom, I am free to sit on the can and let my fingers flit away on my laptop. As I type this to you someone has entered. I can hear them washing their hands. Fuck. It's Barry. He just flicked water on me.
"Dude this is a pretty sick look-out point you can totally lurk on girls." -Barry on the window of the bathroom on the second floor of the HUB.

Thursday, February 1, 2007

Barry's Perm

Your thoughts?

Would you rather deep tongue kiss Ryan Appleby for 10 minutes or lick every inch of his body?

This is a question that was posed recently while we watched a Huskies game. We talked somewhat passionately about it for 20 minutes, since both options are fairly unattractive. One constituent is that Mr. Appleby would like both things. He would grunt a little while you kissed him, and laugh furtively while you licked him. I am about to vomit up the Treetop apple juice i just drank right now. Anyway if you have some thoughts on this feel free to respond. Or if you have some good "Would you rathers?" because it is one of my favorite games. Here is one I always ask people: "would you rather have a lobster claw for a hand or a pig hoof for a foot?" good day