Halloween '05

Here's the play-by-play here in Little Falujah: I was just taken by surprise by a VERY DRUNK woman screaming in Japanese, followed by two drunken douchebags trying to BREAK our fence because they were unable to see the walkway to Wilson Street or the FUCKING ROAD to Doty. Here's how things went down:

Bro #1: "Matt, dude, I gotta find the way through this fence."
Seriously, dude, I just gotta find the part where you go through.
I just gotta find the, you know, middle part.
Okay, I'm gonna scale the fence." (Scraping of sneakers on wood)
Bro #2 (Matt):"Dude, just break the fence."
KEE-RACK/howling of dog
Porkchop: "DO NOT BREAK THE FUCKING FENCE! SHIT, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"
Bro #1: "Dude, how do we get out of here?" (Notice, no "hey, sorry I tried to break your nice fence, which incidentally I probably did, but that's why you pay $200.00 a month in condo fees, right? If you'll excuse me, I'm off to rub my peener against some underaged slut from Iowa dressed like Paris Hilton to the beat of 'It's Gettin' Hot in Here'.")

Seriously, the back parking lot is no kind of labyrinth. I have been nine kinds of drunk in my life, but never to the extent that I couldn't spot a twenty-foot wide driveway to the street and opted to drop-kick my way through a wooden fence. Shit.

Tomorrow I'm shopping for a pearl-handled BB gun, so next year I can one-pump Matt and Bro in the calf the next time the little Einsteins get lost in our fucking parking lot.

Odd.

This idea does not suck. Tough to implement, perhaps, but gives the Chopper another two months free from her crippling Seasonal Affective Disorder.

God,

do I hate Sheryl Crow.

Um...

Hey, these guys seem like a pretty cool outfit! I'm inspired to submit a photo of a bloody hanger and the message, "Why Pro-Choice? The Answer is Clear!" Maybe one of those photos from Abu-Ghraib...

Halloween

Well, it's Halloween again, and people DRIVE IN FROM OUT OF STATE TO RIOT ON STATE STREET. Seriously, every available parking space is taken by idiots who will take a fucking ROAD TRIP in order to set fire to garbage cans and punch police horses. (Pssst - it's the dude in the saddle who was too stupid to be a gym teacher, not the poor beast.) I have been listening to nearly incessant howling from outside since about 7:30, but O-man and I have settled in for the night, having duct-taped the windows, our medic-alert bracelets within arm's reach.

Last night I pulled off my totally awesome costume, although I left the head off most of the night. This was okay because I was wearing makeup and looking smoking hot, which the archaeologists appeared to notice. Hooray for me. My ridiculous dancing is only enhanced by the presence of a 72" diameter papier mache fatsuit, I realized, so all in all it was a hit. I suspect that I may have contracted tetanus as a result of the errant ends of chicken wire I failed to bend away from my raw, naked flesh, but that's the price of attention-starvation. I have donated the Venus to the archaeologists for Dr. Price's birthday Tuesday. Apparently one of the cute guys I was talking to (but whose name I can't recall, on account of Kyoko's vodka/tonics) is going to interrupt his class on Baltic Archaeology by bursting in, singing "Happy Birthday" in my Venus suit.

I had totally forgotten about the Badger Herald "Shoutouts" until just now, when I did a google search for "Madison Halloween Idiocy." I think it's fantastic that people are so innovative in their quests to get laid, and also that sorrority sisters are getting the derision and abuse they so desperately need.

On an unrelated note, I am still wondering how much more embarrassing President Bush has to get before my neighbor takes her dramatic, idiotic "W: THE PRESIDENT" sticker (for which she evidently paid $6.99!) off her car. Seriously, rescinded nominations, "Scooter" Libby, FEMA... dude, just peel it off quietly under the veil of night, no questions asked, 'kay?

I confess

I live for shit like this.

BurgerQuest '05

So my friend Tim and I went to the Plaza tonight to test the PlazaBurger. I hated to admit it to myself (and to Tim, since it was my idea) but the plazaburger disappointed. The "plaza" prefix refers to the special sauce which, though concocted of sour cream, mayonnaise and herbs, had all the tang of semen. I also had fried mushrooms, which were just soft and slippery and flavorless. We plan to hit the Caribou for some 'BouBurgers next time, and I'll fill you in.
Also, I found a site about the best burgers everywhere, and there's a link to Burger Wisconsin. I wondered why I'd never heard of this chain, and it's because it's in fucking NEW ZEALAND. HUH?
In later research, I found this, which is now on my favorites. Lots of gooey money shots of American cheese and such. Mmmm. Foodpron.

Shitty Tipper Database!

Man, this ROOOLZ.I wish they'd had this back when I was behind the bar.

Venus

So I've spent approximately $80.00 between Dorn Hardware and Arts and Craft Supply Store, as well as about 12 hours of wire-bending, papier-mache-ing, and sponge-painting to create my Halloween costume, the above pictured 25000 y.o. morbidly obese fertility statuette. When it is finished I will get someone to take pictures of me for uploading purposes.

Go, Onion, Go

Sorry about my blogbatical; it's been a nasty and hectic month for the newly single porkchop. This is not helping my outlook, although it's probably for the best. I have a number of friendy things planned for this week and so am distracted. Yesterday, however, I was left to my own devices and spent most of the day with pups. While at "Star Books" looking for a copy of Gellner's "Nations and Nationalisms" (no luck) I heard this reported on the radio, which cracked me up. Apparently one of the Onion dudes wrote the President directly in response, inquiring how much $$ in legal fees were spent on this little exercise, and suggesting that such monies might be better spent, say, putting together some sort of organization to deal with, say, natural disasters or something. Like a federal emergency something-or-other. Classic.

Well, tonight I'm off to the Plaza to meet Timmy for some plaza burgers and fried mushrooms. We're going to fryolate ourselves into blissful oblivion.

I hate my life!

Sometimes it's just so soothing to say, "fuck, I hate my life." I overdrew my account on account (hardiharhar) of the East Asian Studies Department somehow fucking up my fellowship monies and so have to live on credit until it's resolved. Also the cute dude with the innocent crush on me in seminar turns out to be a married swinger. Not that I was gonna do it, but still. It'd be nice to attract some wholesome interest every now and again, rather than bearded zz-top looking guys in cowboy hats driving VW Cabrios. Just saying.

In search of moral support I googled "I hate my life" and came up with this. Frankly this is a buzzkill because I can't even relish my self-pity. Also, this homeless person has failed to mention Rudy Guiliani as a homeless rights "zero" (see, "heroes and zeroes") perhaps the most despicable persecutor of the homeless in memorable history.

Weep. Sip. Snore.