Four fans are suing the rock band Creed for putting on a bad concert. Front man and cocksucker Scott Stapp was reportedly too intoxicated to sing. I understand how frustrating a concert can be when the band sucks. I have seen Stone Temple Pilots twice and they were terrible each time. In the summer of 1997, I saw them at Red Rocks and Scott Weiland had shot up smack just before the set, sang three songs and then spent the rest of the time talking about Indians eating peyote. In 2001, I saw them at the Family Values Tour where a sober Scott Weiland sat on a velvet couch and played their new songs acoustic while my date was lying on the Pepsi Center bathroom floor vomiting because she had drank too much with her heart medication. Needless to say, I do not feel sympathy for these fans because 1) they actually like Creed and 2) they should be used to being disappointed because Creed sucks.

Labels: colorado, denver, music, pop culture

Yesterday, a high school freshman followed me around the office for career day. She was very cool and I was impressed with her motivation and direction. When I was fifteen, the only things that interested me were loosing my virginity, smoking cigarettes, drinking whiskey, throwing up all over my parents basement and getting my drivers license. I never gave much thought about a career. I only knew that I liked to draw obscene pictures of teachers in my notebooks. Many coworkers claimed I handled the mentor relationship with competent professionalism, but I think I corrupted her young mind like Socrates. Or Iron Maiden.

Labels: career, corruption, data slaughterhouse, history, music

For the Easter holiday my family convened at my aunt and uncles to dine on some cooked pig, play board games where the end result is global domination and hear my dad tell my brother-in-law to bite his ball sack at the dinner table. Speaking of pigs, my coworker is giving me a few pounds of fresh Polish sausage that her parents are sending her from Chicago. Her and her husband do not dig on the swine so they are giving it to me. I may boil that shit up and slap it on a bun with some sauerkraut and mustard. I may cut it up and throw it in with my scrambled eggs. I may even attempt to flatten it out into strips and fry it. Mmmmmm. Bacon Polish sausage.

Labels: bacon, bro-in-law, dad, data slaughterhouse, easter, family

Something great has happened at work today; I got a new(er) chair. Our technology director purchased a new comfortable leather number and she offered me her old chair. I reveled in sloppy seconds like a fat, hairy guy at a gang bang because my old chair was equipped with a low, nonadjustable back plate and a broken right arm. I wheeled that old tired bitch into an unused office where all broken-down corporate accessories go to die, shut the door and walked away with a smile, glad to be rid of it. My old chair was as uncomfortable as sex in the backseat of a 1984 Honda Accord. Currently my back is enjoying the additional support and my ass cheeks are snuggled warmly into ergonomically designed crevices. I am still holding out hope the company will come to its senses and gift its employees with some Aerons.

Labels: career, data slaughterhouse

I remember going to my local mall as a child, sitting on the Easter Bunny’s lap and receiving assorted chocolates but never bearing witness to an Easter Bunny beat down. If you are going to beat down the Easter Bunny, at least jump him on his smoke break out back by the mall dumpsters so as not to scar little kids standing in line.

Labels: easter, fighting, tomfoolery

Friday. She Who Will Not Be Named and I ordered some pizza and played Dynasty Warriors 4 until the wee hours of the morning.

Saturday. I watched the Colorado Avalanche beat the Minnesota Wild and played badminton in the park (note to cousin Jenny in Minnesota: after the Avs beat your boys like rented mules, I expect my free case of Pete’s Wicked Ale and bottle of Bushmills to be delivered in person).

Sunday. I played in a tiring demanding hockey game (we only had six skaters) and upon Jake's recommendation, watched The Salton Sea. It was an excellent film, and its good to see Val Kilmer back in his I am a bad ass and can play in diverse roles like Jim Morrison and Doc Holliday form as opposed to his I am just doing this for the money by starring in the Saint and Red Planet form.

Labels: colorado, drinking, geekery, hockey, jake, pop culture, she who, weekend that was

Voodoo is practiced by many in Haiti. My only experience with Voodoo is the movie The Serpent and the Rainbow, obscure Marvel Comics character Brother Voodoo and the evil Voodoo witch Miss Cleo. In order to educate myself about the religion (and perhaps subconsciously prepare for the 2003 HOW Design Conference in New Orleans), I am currently reading about West African Vodun, Haitian Vodou, Louisiana Voodoo and Candomble Jeje.

Labels: comics, history, how design, religion

Iraqi citizens and United States soldiers are currently "toppling" an enormous statute of Saddam Hussein in Baghdad. It took all of three weeks for coalition forces to race across Iraq and roll into the capital city. A temporary interim government will be established eventually making way for an unstable Arab democratic regime friendly to Western economic interests. Those who support the war will have an orgy freedom fest and non-war activists will go on harboring the delusion that their objections will be listened to by their government. A coworker of mine compared the liberation of Baghdad to the fall of the Berlin Wall. I then reminded her of the financial support, weapons and chemicals the United States gave Saddam over the past few decades and of the activities a unified Germany accomplished in the past ninety years (read: World War I and World War II). Sigh. Just another day in the life of an armchair anarchist.

Labels: america, data slaughterhouse, history, politics, war

Friday was the Colorado Rockies home opener, and attendance is an annual tradition amongst my circle of degenerates, er, friends. Once a year, we brave the concrete jungles of lower downtown Denver and binge drink like it was a Kennedy mixer. In the fuzzy haze that was Colorado Rockies Opening Day 2003, here is a list of events that may or may not have occurred:

• I consumed six beers and a hamburger before the game began. During the game I consumed three beers, one foot long hot dog, a bag of peanuts and a tub of nachos.
• At one point in the game, the intoxicated gentleman sitting in front of me (who was rocking a rat tail) got up and hollered, “Fuck you Walker! You fucking suck!” to right fielder Larry Walker. Larry Walker has a career .316 batting average and has won seven Gold Gloves.
• It was discovered by Nels and I during Colorado Rockies Opening Day 2002 that Hooters does not serve hard liquor. That fact, however, did not stop us from attempting to order a Jack and Coke at Hooters this year.
• I can throw a baseball 60 miles per hour while heavily intoxicated.
• Magnetic schedules make excellent missiles to hurl at the opposing team's outfielders.
• An ex-stripper showed half of the bar her breast implants during post Colorado Rockies Opening Day 2003 revelries at Swankys. We happened to be sitting next to her at the bar when this occurred. One member of our party claims to have been instrumental in talking her into the flash.
• Within our immediate group two fights almost broke out. Reason for fight number one: One party comments on how amazing it was to supposedly talk an ex-stripper out of her shirt. Another party (me) comments on how easy it is to talk any ex-stripper out of her shirt. Reason for fight number two: One party comments half-jokingly that Nebraska would lose to Colorado State in football if they played this year, thus desecrating Nebraska football and its entire history and tradition. Another party, who happens to be a Nebraska fan, was heard yelling, “Don’t judge Big Red, motherfucker.” Unfortunately, one party of our group was involved in both potential skirmishes.

Labels: bro-in-law, colorado, denver, drinking, gluttony, nels, opening day, sports, strippers

For the past five years a very bored man has been constructing the biggest rubber band ball in the world. This week he watched as his life’s work plummeted to its demise in the Mojave desert. He had hoped that dropping the biggest rubber band ball in the world out of a plane would cause it to bounce when it hit the ground. Unfortunately, nobody explained to Captain Lou Albano the law of inertia or society's need for him to tandem jump with said rubber band ball.

Labels: science, stupidity

A pervert electrocutes himself with a homemade masturbation device. The device he called the ‘Orgasmatron’ included a vibrating mat, massage pads and electrodes that attached to the genitals. I do not understand men that use elaborate methods to release the poisons. To the men reading this that harbor grandiose masturbatory plans, I urge you to follow this simple, three-step process:

1. Acquire lubricant (optional).
2. Acquire tissue, toilet paper, used sweat sock or other preferred "clean up" method.
3. Obtain access to pornography via the internet, television or in printed form. If access to to pornography is unavailable, try the soap operas on Telemundo or reruns of Charmed.

Labels: perversion, porn, sex