Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Merry Christmas!

From the archives:

Christmas Soup

‘Twas the day before Christmas

And all over the world,

Everyone was content

Except one little girl.

Her mother upstairs in bed with the flu,

She had to confront what she now must do.

With mom feeling ill, and out of the loop

It had fallen to her to make Christmas Soup.

‘Twas a cruel twist of fate for such a beginner

To have to lead off the holiday dinner.

And so towards the kitchen the little girl crept

While upstairs in bed, her sick mother slept

Into the recipe the small girl dove,

Set out ingredients and turned on the stove.

All was just fine for a quarter an hour,

After that, I’m afraid, things began to turn sour.

A smidgen of everything was thrown in the pot

A little of this… oops, that was a lot.

It had started so well, but then lost its charm

The girl sadly unplugged the fire alarm.

The meat had turned black, the veggies were blue

She wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t a stew.

With a soft sigh, the girl turned off the heat,

Slopped the stuff in the bowl, and slumped in defeat.

The concoction was lumpy, and looked much like glue

(surely much worse than her mother would do).

Into the fridge it went with a shove,

A bowl full of goo, cooked up with love.

On Christmas day, as dinner drew near,

The little girl’s stomach was knotted with fear.

How would her family react? Would the soup spell out doom?

Would they all take a trip to the Emergency Room?

At the dining room table, the fam took their places

Nervous smiles adorning all of their faces.

As the soup was warmed up, the girl grew suspicious

For the scent that arose was nothing short of delicious!

The meat it was tender, the veggies were good

It looked and smelled just as a Christmas Soup should.

The family exclaimed, as the soup disappeared

What a great soup maker they had sitting here.

Later mother would claim, in her holiday sweater

It was that moment she started feeling much better.

As the family sat and slurped with delight,

The girl swore she heard sleigh bells out in the night.

And a voice rang out loud as she rushed to the stoop

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good soup!”

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

SAT Time. Grab your pencils.

I don't think I'm alone in thinking the Scholastic Aptitude test would be a lot cooler if it reflected things that students are likely to come across in everyday life. Sure, I love awesome obscure words as much as the next guy, but sometimes those questions are just ridiculous. Oh that reminds me, please pardon my misprision. I shouldn't wait so long between posts.

So rather than alter the entire world to reflect the SAT, I decided to write a few analogies of my own and we can play together. And by play together I mean you'll try really hard, but I'll judge you and keep you from getting into really good schools.


Number 1:

Alcohol : Guitar Hero :: _________ : The Price is Right

A) Bidding One Dollar

B) Plinko

3) Bob Barker

D) Wheel of Fortune

The reason I bring this up is because on Friday, after dinner and margaritas, Oach, Mr. Morchison and I went and mixed vodka with Guitar Hero. Oh right, the answer I was going for was the letter three. Why? Because without it, there's really no point in watching. I've tried the game twice without booze, and once with it. And that one time, I was jammin'. Not jamming, but jammin'.

At one point I was rocking back and forth, biting my lower lip, and feeling the rhythm. For that beautiful second, I forgot that I was playing a very silly and pretty much stupid game (a thought that never once left my head the other two times). Suddenly I was onstage, listening to the virtual audience screaming for me, pushing those three (yup, I play it on easy) buttons. I was a superstar! To illustrate this point in a seasonally appropriate manner:

I was rockin out with my stockin out.

I'm sorry you had to see that.

Number 2:

Japanese : Filmmaking :: French : _________

1) lovemaking

2) toast

C) Cowardice

4) War

All right fine, this is an easy one. Even if you're not already familiar with the glaringly obvious failings of these two groups, you should still be able to come up with the correct answer
using the "One of these things is not like the other" method, named in singsong fashion by my 9th grade global studies teacher, Mr. Powers. Of course it's number 4.

The reason I bring this point up is that I recently watched the movie Battle Royale. I've got to tell you, it's pretty messed up. The plot revolves around a group of ninth grade teenagers being sent to a deserted island and forced to kill each other until only one remains. Despite it being ripped off from quite a few sources, I give the Japanese some credit. They actually have half of a decent film on their hands. If they threw away the last half and just ended in the middle of the film with one of those THE END? screens, it would be a triumph. As it stands, it becomes a muddled mess at the end with no clear message and plot holes big enough to crash a fighter plane through.

One theory as to why it has not yet been distributed in the US after being one of the top 10 highest grossing films in Japan is that this country is slightly touchy about the subject of teenagers shooting each other. With good reason, too. It happens far too often. I just happen to think it slightly hypocritical that we wholeheartedly indulge in every other kind of cinematic violence imaginable, but decide to shy away from this one.

On the other hand, the Japanese production company might just want more money than the US distributors are prepared to give. Whatever. If you want to check it out, you can find the torrent online. Just do yourself a favor... watch until just after the big explosion, then turn it off and write your own ending. It will hold together a whole lot better than what's been provided.

Hm. In retrospect, this post is kind of boring. I'll see what I can do next time.

Peace out,


Monday, December 3, 2007

The Most Painful Thing on the Internet

I'm quite serious. Those of you with children should probably get them out of the room to prevent massive psychological scarring. Hours and hours of therapy costing thousands of dollars. Dozens of headlines and trials and evaluations, all the neighbors judging and avoiding eye contact... All completely avoidable.

Actually, on second thought... make them watch. The world needs psychos, right?

Anyway, the tale of this particular vomit wrenching horror can be summed up in one word:


Forgive us Lord, we knew not what we did.

A few things I did enjoy about that video:

1) Ignorant people booing our awesomeness.

2) Me jumping like I was being burned by that old woman that tried to horn in on the action.

C) Hmmm... nope, just those two things.

The reason for that karaoke was the celebration of two birthdays. Mr. Morchison's and Sandstone's. I should have a picture around here somewhere...


Oh, Mr. Morchison, how can you look that serious whilst wearing a sombrero?

You need a lesson from: EL HOMBRE DEL SOMBRERO LOCO!!!!!!!!!!!!!one

!Senor Morchison! !No esta triste! !!!!!Esta muy LOCO!!!!!

!Escuche mi pandereta mágica!

And El hombre del sombrero loco waved his magic tambourine high in the air and Mr. Morchison was transformed!!!!!!!


Wow. That was even more ridiculous than I thought it was going to be when I thought of it.

Also last Tuesday at lunch I stumbled upon a Writers Guild of America rally. I saw many famous people including:

-Tim Robbins

-Danny Glover

-Amy Poehler

-Seth Meyers

-Rachel Dratch

-BJ Novak

And last but certainly not least (not even last, really, I just got tired of listing):

Tina Fey.

Her I actually spoke to. I told her that I very much enjoy her show and I aspire to be a part of it someday.

I really wanted to profess my undying love.

Tina, it's ok that you're married and have a daughter. We didn't know each other then, I couldn't expect you to wait for me forever. I mean it's bad enough you had to wait 13 years for me to be born. There's still time to make it right.

Elizabeth Stamatina Fey... my number One.


Catch you later,


PS - Phoebe Strole, you and I are finished.