Beyonce, You Sonuvabitch...

in the office building i work in / at, you are faced with a major decision every morning - do you take the stairs or take the elevator? seeing as how i am super-cereal about keeping my girlish figure for as long as possible (droopy breasts, above average sized booty) i almost always take the stairs.

this morning, for some reason, the door to our floor made the same squeaky noise from the song "single ladies" by beyonce. consequently, for the last hour i have been thinking about all of the things in my life that i like so much that i feel as if i must "put a ring" on them. because, like, if you dont put a ring on it, it could end up having dirty sex with some sweaty brazillian douchebag on the dance floor at SUGAR! or SPICE! bar. at least i think thats what the moral of the song is.

beyonce knowles - delivering important and relevant relationship advice since 1998.

now dont get me wrong, because i actually like beyonce most of the time. the song she did for the first charlies angels movie almost makes me want to be a better father to my illegitimate bastard children. almost.

its not like shes lenny freaking kravitz (i wish that i could fly, into the sky, so very high, just like a dragonfly, id fly above the trees, over the seas, in all degrees, to anywhere i please, oh oh oh yeah!) and its not like she has been pumping our nation full of insultingly awful crap since the 1980s like madonna. seriously, if madonna wrote those songs and faked a brittish accent (when she was born in detroit) while living in a country with an actual set of testicles, someone would have destroyed that skank years and years ago.

you want proof madonna is a talentless clown?

"you must be an angel, i can see it in your eyes, full of wonder and surprise, and just now i realize, oooh youre and angel, oooh youre an angel, oooh youre an angel, in disguise i can see it in your eyes"

and how about this ridiculous stinking pile of dog feces...

"i was never satisfied with casual encounters, i cant hide my need for two hearts that bleed with burning love, thats the way its got to be, romeo and juliet they never felt this way i bet, so dont underestimate my point of view"

its sad when the words someone uses to insult your music are more creative than the music itself, isnt it?

now, its one thing if your lyricism is terrible and you know it. i dont think the bay city rollers are walking around with a poop-eating grin on their faces thinking that saturday night is a major and significant accomplishment in musical history. but you know madonna is actually proud of "and im not sorry, its human nature, and im not sorry, im not your bitch dont hang your shit on me" and given enough time in an interview with billy bush (equally as worthless) she will probably remind you in some capacity of how wonderful she is.

so damn you beyonce, and damn you sasha fierce for making me have a train of thought that reminded me in any way of lenny kravitz and madonna. what in the hell did i ever do to you?

oh, and while we are on the subject - its pretty much a guarantee that now and for the rest of history whenever a bride is about the throw her bouquet at a wedding reception, the DJ is going to play "single ladies", right? like its not terrible enough to be a 30 year old single woman at a wedding where yet another of your friends is getting hitched while you silently sit at your table with a glass of warm chardonnay, wondering if your internal female reproductive system will ever actually serve any sort of reproductive purpose - now you have to be called up in front of the entire collection of people to be put on display while the overweight DJ plays a song reminding everyone of how alone you are. and make sure to thank whatever "friend" invited you to this disgrace of a celebration. thanks for reminding me of everything that you have and i dont. yay for you and chet. seriously, im really happy for the both of you, but please dont be upset with me if i have no interest whatsoever in battling twenty-three other "single ladies" to catch a meaningless collection of flowers that will ultimately lead to me being inappropriately hit on by whatever drunken jackass idiot playboy caught the garter from your douchey fratboy husband. happy wedding day!

everyone have a nifty weekend.

Change Of Plans...

there comes a time in every boys life where he is forced to either continue with his life as is, or make some uncomfortable and drastic changes that will in the long run benefit himself along with all of mankind.

i feel as if that time has officially come for this boy.

i am beyond certain that some of these changes will not be as easily accepted by the readers of team secret falcon as others. some of you will feel happy joy-joy feelings for me, and some will no doubt feel that these changes are being instituted just to make your lives more difficult.

i cannot speak to that. what i can speak to is that i am making these changes for me, and me only. i know me better than anyone else, and if i did not think these changes to be completely and one-hundred percent necessary, well, you wouldnt even see me bothering to do anything about anything at all.

there comes a time when you have to look out for number one - and im not talking about will riker or jonathan frakes here.

CHANGES (LOOK OUT, YOU ROCK N' ROLLERS)

1. from this point on, i swear that i will go out of my way to kill every single spider that i see anywhere in the world. and i'm not talking about lightly stepping on it or picking it up with a tissue and flushing it down the toilet. im talking about murdering that son of a bitch. hard. no matter where it is. in my house, yes. in my car, double yes. on display at the zoo, you bet your sweet peruvian ass.

the point is, the more spiders there are in the world, the greater chance i have of dying in my sleep from a spider bite. maybe this change should have been something like "i will do whatever it takes to not die", but i dont know. it seems more likely that i will die from a spider attack than almost anything else, right?

since they caught the columbus rapist (butt-licker), the exotic ways that i have imagined my inevitable doom have taken a major hit.

2. i will forever and always go out of my way to remind people that the one person who caused more fear than anyone else in columbus during the last ten years (the columbus rapist), was little more than a man who broke into your house and licked your butt.

seriously! if "scary spice" is the most accurately named person in the history of the universe (and she is), the columbus rapist is the most inaccurately named person. how can you call someone a rapist if they dont rape? thats like the universiity of michigan declaring themselves "the champions of the west" in their fruity little fight song. you are not champions. and west of what, exactly? ontario?

listen, its like this. i dont need to fear the type of person that will break into my house and lick my butt. that type of person needs to fear someone like me because he has no idea where my butt has been. only i know where my butt has been. and its been nowhere good, i can tell you that.

3. i promise that sometime within the next month, there will be an official team secret falcon podcast. i cant tell you much more than that, but feel free to put that little nugget of goodness between your cheek and gums and suck on it from now until the worst thing to happen in radio history actually occurs sometime in the near future.

4. now and for the rest of my life, i will try my hardest to remind people that this movie and this movie are two of the greatest accomplishments in the history of comedic cinema.

5. i dont care how many people i have to stab in the neck, i am going to get "the wonder years" released on DVD. it doesnt matter to me what i have to do to accomplish this, i will accomplish it. no matter how many friends i lose or people i leave dead and bloodied along the way, so long as i get it released on DVD no matter how many people i kill or friends i lose or people i leave dead and dying and bloodied along the way, so long as i get "the wonder years" released on DVD, no matter what i have to do or people i have to kill or friends i have to lose or people i leave bloodied and dead and dying along the way.

you will hear people say things like "we cant secure the rights to all of the songs that were used in the original run of the show itself", but those are just words - and words can only hurt you if you if you try to read them.

dont play their game.

6. i will finally get serious about nick cannon and all things nick-cannon-related. i will start watching americas got talent. i will buy more mariah carey albums. i will get super pumped about the CW. because anyone who dresses like this in a serious manner is a guy who i think needs to be a bigger part of my life.

7. i promise to no longer take part in any half-hand-shake-half-man-hug nonsense. if you are going hug someone, hug someone. if you are going to shake someones hand, shake their hand. above all else, make a decision.

8. i will finally start training my evil pony army.

if you havent been reading my blog since its inception, you are probably unfamiliar with my goal to rescue a pony and then train that pony to in turn rescue other ponies, which i will in turn train to rescue other ponies and so on and so forth. once i have assembled enough ponies, i will use them for all sorts of things including, but not limited to, destroying all of the known recordings of "hey there delilah" by the plain white t 's and "youre beautiful" by james blunt.

9. in the near future, i will make up a nickname for myself and it will be awesome. originally, i was thinking about "bison", but i gave it to a kid from church who is far more deserving and needed it more than i did.

that leaves several excellent choices including doc$, sven, chad, karl, sk8r boi, white chocolate, and ned the no-nonsense necrophiliac.

because i am sexually attracted to dead bodies and i dont care what you think.

10. i promise in the next twelve months to do more hitch-hiking and more killing. but not at the same time. because that would give hitch-hikers a bad name. and no one wants that.

especially me, as i will be doing far more hitch-hiking in the next twelve months.

Back...

home from chicago! hopefully i will have time to blog tomorrow. not sure. we will have to see. why does this feel like a tweet? its like we're looking at waynes basement, only.......thats not waynes basement.

whoa, garth - i think that was a haiku.

excellent.

Hastings Middle School...

when i was in michigan this weekend past, i stopped in my storage unit in metro detroit to pick up a few things - my nintendo, a few shirts, some pictures, etc.

i grabbed the box that held my NES and NES games, and when i went through the box once arriving back in columbus, i discovered a rare gem - my 1996 yearbook from hastings middle school.

while the pictures are indeed hilarious, the best part about finding this treasure were the messages people wrote inside. if you dont mind, im going to go through these messages one by one and present some of my thoughts on these terrible inside jokes - thirteen years later.

if you will, take a deep breath and travel back in time with me. all the way to eighth grade...

SUPER HILARIOUS AND RIDICULOUSLY RELEVANT MESSAGES FROM THE YEAR 1996

"We will never be traders! -Adam Girardi"

i couldnt tell you what in the hell this means if my life depended on it. if i had to take a guess, i would probably say that a few of our friends had "girlfriends" at this point and we were none to happy about it. fast forward thirteen years and girardi is married with children. looks like you ended up being a traitor and a liar, girardi. thanks for nothing.

"Morgan - Have a great summer, but I am warning you to watch your back! I will be sending the meatball after you and making sure he gets you. If he doesn't, I will. Enjoy your summer. -Ken Snyder PS - you suck at basketball!"

the back-story here is simple. after our 8th grade basketball season, we had a father / son pickup game. kens dad came dressed in red sweatpants and a red sweatshirt and had a little bit of a gut, so i called him "the meatball" and he didnt think it was all that funny. i would like to say "congrats" to ken for using "have a great summer" and "enjoy your summer" both in the span of four sentences. that takes solid commitment, and not everyone can get away with it.

"Have fun at Wittenberg. See you this summer at the HORDE festival. -Doug Baker"

sorry, doug - i'm not going to that gay festival and you know it. i always made fun of baker for listening to bands that no one else liked, and i told him that he may as well go live at the HORDE festival over the summer. i assure you that it was a totally hilarious joke at the time.

"Morgan - Have a great summer and I'll see you at the high school. -George Simon"

like all good white 13 year old wankster 8th graders, george simon was completely obsessed with giving the impression that he did drugs - pot, in particular. the only thing i remember about george was that he laughed like a complete girl, and he took a dump in the bunker at raymond memorial golf course while on the hastings golf team. both the laugh and the dump were hysterical.

"Keith Barrett"

keith was apparently too busy playing with dolls to come up with anything creative to write. you know, thats unfair of me - i have absolutely no idea if keith barrett played with dolls or not. plus, he was always a nice guy. lets just assume he had to drop a deuce and had no time to come up with any words of wisdom. poop jokes are hilarious. good job, me.

"Morgan - I bet you do know more cheers than me. I will not be cheering next year, but hopefully we can be friends though in high school. -Alison Jaquet"

alison was right in assuming that her activities in cheerleading completely dictated whether or not we would be friends in high school. she didnt cheer, and we werent friends. we are currently friends on facebook though, and i feel completely fine when i continue to make fun of her height all these years later. you see, alison was always shorter than all the other girls. and as you know, that is grounds for eternal verbal assault.

"Morgan - hi. -Bryce Ross"

bryce always wore black offspring t-shirts. i dont know how that is relevant, but whatever. i remember one time peter gibson and i told bryce to meet us at lauren cialones birthday party, but we didnt actually go. bryce did. it was so funny that i fell off my bike laughing, which was too bad because i hate falling off of my bike. this story is going nowhere. fast.

"SONICS!!!! SHAWN KEMP!!!! - Bill Clark"

i would accuse billy "shoes" clark of being a champion chaser, but i know for a fact that he is a detroit lions fan. so yeah. also, we call him "shoes" because he has always bought the same pair of shoes that i have the day after i bought them. and i dont mean that in a past tense, either. he still does it. to this day. thats why we call him "shoes". its a creative and hilarious nickname.

"Morgan - Have an awesome summer and see you next year at the high school! -Alexia Adamantidis"

this would have been far more entertaining if alexia consulted with george simon before deciding what to write. fail.

"you smell worse that wagg, youre annoying, youre ugly, have a nice summer -TJ Wiseman"

words of wisdom from a golden ghetto alumni.

"Morgan - Practice your golf game. -David French"

we get it french - you play golf.

"Robman Lives Forever -Rob Wheaton"

robman is a superhero that possesses the power to become extremely winded after hobbling to first base. he intimidates criminals with double knee braces, and has 20/50 vision.

"Scott Santilli"

scott and keith had very little time they could invest in being creative, as they had to go watch the little mermaid after school.

"Morgan - you probably know that I am better than you at everything, especially basketball. You suck. See you this summer. -David Erdman"

i had such great friends, dont you agree? oh well, erdman made up for this vicious written attack by not inviting me or cramer to his wedding. he is such a robman poser...

"Jon Day"

jon, keith and scott were probably members of a secret after-school club that dressed up in girls clothing and put makeup on each other.

"Morgan - porsh, borscha, larsh, barsha, darsh, zarsha. -Branson Nye"

these were all sounds we made when doing our best wagg impression. shockingly, they are still extremely accurate to this day.

"Morgan - If only you could channel all that energy. I vote you most likely to be a millionaire. -Mr. Roesch, Algebra"

and i vote you most likely to be completely wrong with your all of your yearbook predictions.

"Morgan - thank you for that crazy weekend. -Sarah Gerkin"

this was, as you guessed it, not written by sarah gerkin. it was written by bryce ross, and it is still funny thirteen years later. even though you will go to hell for laughing, you cant really help it.

"Have fun whacking it and playing with yourself! -Peter Gibson"

masturbating jokes were almost as hilarious as marijuana jokes in 1996. almost.

"Morgan - You're pretty good at golf. Rob is a fag! -Josh Cramer"

thank you for the compliment, josh. and yes - rob is a fag.

"Morgan - Hey dork, you suck! Just kidding. Have a cool summer. -Leia Swarm"

whoa whoa whoa, leia. where is all this hostility coming from? the "you suck" comment hurt even more than it normally would, seeing as how i had been in love with leia swarm for about my whole life at that point. thanks for crushing my dreams. thanks for ruining my life.

"Morgan - Usually I would make this a nice note but under the circumstances, I won't -Dena Sadek"

not sure what i had done at this point in my life to create such pure and relentless yearbook hatred. im going to guess that i probably slept with dena and never called her back sometime in 7th grade. i was always doing that in middle school.

"Hi Morgan. How are you. Don't get hit again. -Sean Gould"

and then he drew a hysterical picture of a kid being run over by a car. its funny because that is exactly what happened to me. its funny when children almost die.

"Morgan - You have a lot of potential - hope you apply yourself in the future. I enjoyed having you in class - remember the Goodyear blimp! -Mr. Hord, Science"

"you have a lot of potential" is a nice way of saying "you are a screw up, but hell i guess anything is possible". little did mr hord know that over a decade later, i would have the most successful internet blog of anyone in our entire class! the fact that it makes me no money and brings nothing good to my life is irrelevant. get out of my face.

"Now don't go gay on me. -Nathan Doerschuk"

i never ended up "going gay", but i will make out with you for twenty dollars. its not "gay" if you do it for money, kids!

"Now don't go gay on me like that Doerschuk fag. -Pat Myers"

okay, fine - fifteen dollars. ten? five? two bucks and a pack of mentos? just the mentos? deal!

"Morgan - Hey candyman! It was great having you in my science class - see you next year! -Missy Braun"

i know what youre thinking, "clearly missy had a thing for you - did you ever hit that?" well, a girl never kisses and tells and a gentleman never asks. but i'm not gentleman. and no, nothing ever happened. the only girls that ever liked me were total sluts like lindsay cowbreath. total skank!

"Morgan - Hey banana! Sup?! This year has been awesome. Thanks for being such a great friend. This summer is going to be awesome! Our decade project was a blast! You're one of my best friends. Thank you for putting up with all of my shit about you-know-who. I'll talk to you later! Hopefully next year you can have a birthday party that is as fun as it was this year! But don't invite any losers like you-know-who. You know who I mean! -Lauren Cialone"

i dont think its necessary to follow up "you-know-who" with "you know who i mean". i think i understood who you were talking about the first time, lauren. and yes, our decade project was such a blast that i dont remember what in the hell you are even talking about. and remember how we called you "sasquatch" because you had a lot of arm hair? being an 8th grade girl of italian descent must suck all sorts of ass, eh? if you ever call me "banana" again, im going to stab you in the face with a knife. you know i am allergic to bananas. best friends forever!

"Morgan - Sup, bud? Hope you had a great 8th grade. I know I sure did. Gosh! I can't WAIT for summer. Thanks for being such a great friend all these years. You are a really funny guy. -Jenny Reaser"

if i am such a great friend and such a funny guy, why in the hell did you give the candy bag you were supposed to make for me during basketball season to justin rule? did you like him better than me? is it because he rode a BMX and i rode a ten-speed? does that make him more attractive? was it because i was an awkward hideous looking freak without armpit hair? WHY DONT YOU LOVE ME? WHY WONT YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND? ahhhhhhhhhh memories.

"Hey I hope you had a great year. Sorry things didn't work out with you-know-who. Anyways, have a great summer. -Becky Stone"

WHY WAS EVERYING SO MYSTERIOUS IN 1996? and who was this you-know-who? do you think i was having an affair with a teacher and have been suppressing it in my fragile mind all of these years? good lord, i hope it wasnt mrs pollack...

"Morgie - Hey buddy, wuz up?! Besides that! Pop it up Ken! Ha Ha - thanks for the 20, but I earned it! -Tootsie"

for the life of me, i have no idea what this means or who wrote the message. could tootsie be you-know-who? and why was someones nickname "tootsie"? and how did they "earn" the twenty? and twenty what? dollars? marbles? kittens?

if you have any information that could lead to the realization of who "tootsie" is / was, please let me know. this mystery cannot go unsolved. i wont be able to live my life not knowing who tootsie is and how she earned the twenty kittens. please, someone help.

also, the best part about middle school was that you never had to deal with any of those asshats from jones.

life was so simple back then. ahhhh, sometimes i long for the days of my youth and the blissful carelessness that went along with it.

but now i can buy beer.

and that is awesome.

Random Thoughts...

when i cant come up with a topic for a particular blog entry, i end up doing a bullet points type rambling thingy that is aimless and often ends somewhat abruptly. whatever. such is mango.

* pittsburgh cheaters, er, steelers quarterback ben rothlisberger has been accused of rape, and ESPN is apparently refusing to report it, which i find to be both disgusting and irresponsible.

this is not to say that i buy even word one of this idiots accusations. big ben raped you, eh? well why did you wait a year to do anything about it? and why were you in is room by yourself in the first place? and why arent you bringing criminal charges against him? why are you only looking for money and no punishment? if you ask me (and you didnt), this is just another las vegas hussie looking for free money from an athlete that she decided to hook up with.

and if nothing comes of this trial, that skank needs to go to prison. she made a choice to drag his name through the mud for a profit - if the accusations are found to be baseless, there needs to be ramifications for her treachery. you shouldnt be able to do that. you shouldnt be allowed to accuse someone of something that didnt happen and just walk away if nothing comes of it.

and ESPN - get your heads out of your asses and report the freaking story. even if the accusations are baseless, its an athlete being accused of rape. if i have to hear about brett farve and michael vick twenty-two hours a day while they are sitting on their rumps and doing nothing, i demand that you report on the big ben story - substance or no.

* due to a meeting in cleveland running fifteen times longer than it should have yesterday, i was forced to miss the last kickball game of our season last night. while i am somewhat sad to have missed the final game, i am utterly extatic that the season is over and done with. with monday softball, tuesday kickball, wednesday volleyball, thursday softball, weekend trips, and sunday church and softball, free time has been a bit hard to come by lately and i needs a little time for meself, yaknowwutimsayin?

i want to say thanks to all of my "pitches and ho's" teammates for a fun season of ultimate failure and futility - we made winning look fugly and losing look fuglier, but we did it with a smile on our face and very few spastic temper tantrums from yours truly. and if you really knew what a sore loser i am, you would be especially proud of me for that.

* i will be in chicago this weekend, new jersey next weekend, and new jersey again the following weekend, so if you plan on seeing me anytime before late august, you best be showing up for some el vaquero goodness on thursday night after fancyburg farkling. and does it bother anyone that our team name is the fancyburg farklers, yet we play at lane road park?

it doesnt bother me at all. mad respek for da golden ghetto. double header on thursday night. woop woop.

* if you follow my ass on twitter you would already know this, but the oxygen channel show "nyc prep" seriously makes me want to take to the streets and randomly start stabbing people in the neck with a flathead screwdriver until i blackout from a combination of murderous rage and cialis.

kristy has decided that it is her new favorite show and succeeded in driving me out of my home yesterday, as she watched no less than sixteen straight hours of this craptacular nonsense. one of the 15 year old kids named sebastian (or PC or whatever) said that his feelings for some girl at first led him to believe that she would be just another one of his many hookups, but he has come to be pleasantly surprised to find that he has developed a real semi-relationship with her.

my question is, what exactly are you basing these feelings on? you are fifteen years old - how could you possibly have a wealth of experience with women that would lead you to draw any conclusions whatsoever? how did you decide that she was going to be just "another" hookup?

another kid, who is a senior, made a classic remark about a sophomore girl having "a lot of growing up to do". because he is in such a state of maturity that he clearly has the right to sling around judgments on other childrens developmental states.

kids, please shut up. shut the hell up. close your mouths and stop talking. if i hear so much as a peep out of your unnaturally year-round tanned faces again, i am going to pistol whip your grandmother and burn down your homes. i will not stop short of running over your family pets with my 1994 buick lesabre. i swear on everything holy that i will shave your head and cut off your legs in your sleep. i will completely and absolutely destroy your very existence. just shut up. thanks.

kill me now. i literally want to die after watching that show.

* it looks as if the annual open-to-the-public night practice at ohio stadium will be monday, august 24th. if you are going in hopes of having LiC (lebron in cleats) (terelle pryor) sign your scarlet #2 jersey, make sure to get there early.

see you there, buckeye fans.

* tomorrows blog should be right up your alley if you ever attended hastings middle school.

now normally i dont like to make promises, as my relentless addiction to crystal meth causes me to almost always break them - but i may just surprise you this time. you may just end up being quite happy with me, which is in stark contrast to my bastard children who constantly end up sitting on their mothers front porch waiting for me to pick them up with tears in their eyes every other weekend. whatever. my priorities are as follows...

1. crystal meth
2. everything else
3. my children

get used to it. you were all mistakes anyway, and i dont really love you. your mother is a prostitute. and not a very good one at that.

your mother is a dirty unreliable prostitute.

and i dont love you.

Dear Morgan...

every day of my life i get between zero and twelve emails from people asking me for personal advice. telling people how to live their life is what i do best. enjoy.

Morgan - It's a known fact that you are an all-american badass. What's your secret? -Kwame Kilpatrick, Detroit, MI

its not easy being me, kwame. being this totally sweet comes with a lot of responsibility, and it takes great effort. in my life, i have trained anywhere from sixty to eighty-four seeing eye dogs for homeless world war I vets. i once stopped a bank robbery by looking at a guy who seemed "shifty" and mouthing the words "NOT. TODAY." i often stare directly into solar eclipses for days at a time. i only consume food that i catch with my bare hands, and only animals that comes directly from the scioto river will do. my blood type is O-SAVAGE. when i watch the aussie open on ESPN2, michael chang gets sexually aroused and he doesnt know why. i used to play in the NFL under the pseudonym "tony siragusa". when i was born, the doctor thought i was the first human ever with two umbilical cords - you figure out why. i settle conflicts, drive a buick lesabre, and calm race relations. i have met with elvis, crossed-over tim hardaway, and i play the banjo. people recognize me and know my middle name. i wear 34x34 pants.

Morgan - You met your girlfriends extended family this weekend past. How did it go? -Cory Matthews, Philadelphia, PA

thanks for writing, cory - and it went well. i feel as if i did an average job of remembering names, though my average job of remembering names is still piss-poor. at the tail end of saturday night, a large group of 19-21 year olds started playing beer pong, and i effectively ignored the calling from my inner-being to rise up and dominate them all on a level with which they are unfamiliar, so that was a plus. her uncle frank, who is the ultimate mans-man and someone who could only be rivaled in an awesome contest by the unholy lovechild of sam kinnison and jonathan turner, showed me his collection of 50's era corvettes and they were beyond ridiculous. while ashley was busy visiting with family and doing laundry, i spent the majority of saturday afternoon looking at his cars, playing basketball in the driveway by myself, and running around like a spastic attack with their massive 150 pound black lab. in other words, it was a great day.

Morgan - Tell me about the first time you kissed a girl. -Trav Ling Willberry, Manchester, UK

hmm, an odd request - but i will play ball, you sick bastard.

it was july 1996 - the summer between 8th and 9th grade. i had recently realized my summer-long goal of having a real-life girlfriend, and man was she one smoking hot bitch. jenny reaser was everything a 14 year old kid could ask for - she was cute, had super awesome braces, and played one hell of a flute in 8th grade band class.

we "dated" for all of seven or eight weeks, most of which i spent nervously thinking of ways to avoid making out with her. because, dude, thats a pretty huge step and i had no freaking clue how to kiss a girl. i think at that point in a kids life, all of us guys are like dogs chasing cars - even if the dog gets the car, he is going to have absolutely no idea what in the hell to do with it. such was my curse.

my best friend pete gibson was dating lora elsea at the time, and they were super-advanced as far as i was concerned - they had been making-out for weeks, and i was convinced i would never get to a point where i could be in such a mature relationship. the four of us ended up at petes house one afternoon, and decided to watch the recently released VHS masterpiece "mr hollands opus" in petes parents uber-secluded basement TV den. the couples took their places on the two couches - pete and lora on one, jenny and i on the other. pete and lora immediately started attempting to swallow each others faces, and i knew that i could no longer avoid the makeout train. you either jump on at this stop, or its going to pass you by forever. dont think about it, just do it. wait, one quick thing first.

jennys mom was a nazi. she was so afraid of some hooligan sullying her little girl that she had the orthodontist install metal spikes on jennys braces. you know, the type that kids with lisps get so that their tongues are properly trained and they dont have to go through life sounding like drew barrymore? jenny had those. turns out, not only did those metal spikes stop you from lisping, they also did a fairly awesome job at repelling any rouge tongue that might try to find its way into your mouth. luckily for jenny, she had figured out a way to pry them out using a toothbrush (not kidding) that allowed her to take them out and put them back in at her leisure. awesome.

with the iron spikes of death laying helplessly on a magazine on the coffee table, it was time for me to finally lose my makeout virginity. and i was terrified.

without getting too graphic, i think it was safe to say that jenny had roughly twice the makeout experience than i did (and as we know, two times zero is still zero) so we spent the next hour and a half with our mouths wide open and unmoving, and our tongues locked in an all-time epic wrestling match for the ages. and as is the case with actual wrestling, there was really no winner at the end.

after the movie was over and richard dryfuss' career was firmly in the toilet, i hopped on my ten speed and headed home. i remember thinking something like "making out sucks and i suck at it." jenny and i would give the whole kissing thing one more go at the fireworks at northam park later that week, and she broke up with me shortly thereafter. summer turned into fall, and before i knew it i was firmly entrenched in high school and forgetting all about my fears of the untamed beast that is the teenage female.

the lesson of this story is as follows - you can fear the unknown all you want, but dont let it stop you from being a super-hardcore radical man-child. grab that toothbrush, pry out those iron spikes of death, and meet your challenges head-on. yeah! super-awesome! high five!

Guest Blogger - Barndo Pargeon...

i am lazy and i cannot think of anything to write about, so i pimped out todays blog to my buddy barndo. enjoy...

It's the weekend again, it's summertime and fools be getting married. Some unlucky folks are headed to Michigan (read: Morgan) while I get to stay in good ol' Columbus. In case no one knows what's up, Mike "The Real Deal" Steele is foolishly giving away his life to Miss Libby Williams. I think Morgan has dealt with the subject of marriage enough lately so I'm not going really going to talk about it. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be looking awesome this weekend in my suit with wrist lasers. I'm just glad everywhere I go will be air conditioned.

-I think it's ridiculous that the "Most Interesting Man in the World" barely drinks beer. And when he does, he goes for the beer that is skunked from being in a green bottle. I appreciate his Hemingway-ness but I'd rather idolize Walt Kowalski's selflessness while drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon (and enjoying that "in a can" taste while drinking from a bottle).

-So while Morgan is thought-bare due, most likely, to being sick. I am just coming off of my three week sickness biathalon. First, head cold. Then, stomach bug. Nothing like coughing, sneezing, vomiting and feeling horrible for 21 days. I am HELLA excited to be healthy again. That's a long time without drinking. Girls were starting to look ugly again.

-In case this blog post is boring, play some Huey Lewis and the News. It won't matter then. It's a Friday staple that has gotten me through the past three years of Fridays. If you like it, listen to it anyway. It'll be your new drug.

-I have an unhealthy infatuation with Anne Hathaway and I'm tempted to see Bride Wars just because I think she's hot. This might just trump the time I went to a gay club with a girl I liked just to be with her and while she went to the bathroom some guy stuck his hand down the back of my pants. No, this is nowhere close.

-Speaking of movies, why haven't I seen The Hangover or Bruno? I'm starting to think this may be the beginning of me becoming a social outcast. It's like Titanic all over again except these movies are good (most of them) and don't end up with a dumb skirt dumping her boyfriend in the ocean.

-Ok, I'm out of stories people. Go away, you're so needy.

Warning...

this is going to be interesting. i have never tried to compose a blog entry while my head was threatening to pop off my neck and float away at any moment. for serious you guys, i have some wicked-ass sinus or ear infection going on right now and my head is bobbling from side to side as if i had recently ingested three to six bottles of strawberry-daiquiri boones farm beverage. so forgive me if this entry lacks focus, has spelling errors, makes little sense, or causes you have diarrhea explosions inside of your underpants.

you know, i think one of the biggest problems facing this country today is that people assume that the more you get of something, the better it is. like triple chocolate cake. or double stuffed oreos. or a bag of doritos with twenty percent more. or buy one get one free at the payless shoe store. you get the point.

my argument is, just because someone gives you more of something at no additional cost, doesnt mean you are better off. consider the following circumstances...

quadruple bypass surgery
double gunshot wound to the neck
fifty percent more fire ants on your penis
triple wild bear attack
buy one drowning get one free
semi annual pubic lice infestation

the point is, keep your eyes open. if something seems to good to be true, it probably is. theres no such thing as a free lunch. the early bird gets the worm. hard work pays off. frankie says relax. wheres the beef? you cant touch this.

Meeting The Extended Family...

its the middle of july, so naturally i am dog-ass sick with a cold. and yes, i just made up the word "dog-ass". you can thank me later.

i am not entirely convinced that i dont have the swine flu, as i have a fever, stuffy head, stomach ache, fatigue, dry mouth, runny nose, and i am somewhat dizzy. now i am no doctor, but if i were i would say that my symptoms sounds vaguely like the symptoms of one juan martinez, who was the first guy to die from the swine flu in 2009. he was also shot in the face by steve mcnairs girlfriend, but his cousin raul said that he had sneezed a few times the day before he died.

what? too soon for a steve mcnair joke?

the real tragedy here is that i have to spend this coming weekend in the state of michigan. usually not a big deal for me, as i lived in the wolverweenie state for a number of years, but my voyage is going to take me straight through the middle of ann arbor on my way to marshall. two problems here...

1. ann arbor is a filthy, stinking whore.
2. my girlfriend was raised as a UofM fan, and even though she is currently in grad school at ohio state, and knows that our relationship will swiftly be over the very second she decides to root for that team up north, i fear that her penchant for all things maise and blue may resurface once we come to pass through the gates of hell.

ashley and i have been dating for a little over ten months, which officially makes this the longest consecutive relationship i have ever been a part of. this also means its time to start meeting her extended family. i have met her parents and siblings already, but this weekend is when i will be introduced to aunts, uncles, and cousins. yep, its family wedding time.

the potential disasters are limitless...

1. obviously i am going to have to kill someone to assert my dominance, but who? do i take out an elderly grandmother type who is almost certainly close to natural death anyway, or do i brutally murder a strong younger male cousin, which would probably impress people on a much grander of scale?

2. having spent a good chunk of time in the ghettos of detroit, just how gangsta am i allowed to get? which throwback NBA jerseys are going to be tolerable? exactly how many shawtys am i going to be allowed to get my freak on without causing a scene? how many kwame kilpatrick jokes is too many kwame kilpatrick jokes?

3. my whiteness dictates that i push my religious and political views on the family as much as possible. is it still okay to call democrats "baby killers"?

4. there are two types of people in this world - those who appreciate male nudity at the dinner table and those who do not. if the universe meant for me to wear clothes all the time, it wouldnt have given me such a delicious body.

5. eventually, someone is going to figure out that i am a werewolf. the tricky part is finding out who that person is and killing them with a shovel before they inform the others. life is hard.

6. lets just go ahead and assume that none of the females in her family have ever been in close proximity to a man who has had the intoxicating scent of that perfect blend of old spice and abercrombie woods cologne. how do i avoid the almost certain prison-rape-type-situation that is likely to occur?

7. its a well known fact that i dont give a rats ass about anyone except me. its also a well known fact that people like to talk about themselves because they are selfish and what about my needs? how do i go about sufficiently ignoring them without causing them to get pissy and walk away with their purse? if they take their purse, my ability to steal their wallet takes a major hit. life is confusing.

8. eventually, they are going to ask how ashley and i met. and i think people are tired of the whole drunk-guy-falling-for-a-below-average-wednesday-night-hooker story.

9. if she doesnt have an aunt and uncle named "chet and rhonda" i swear on everything holy that i am going to start killing the hostages.

10. what if someone goes through my stuff and figures out i am a lesbian?

wish me luck.

Poopy Diapers...

no blog today. i am sick with a cold and there is much meat to be cooked. landis needs a hand.

I Got Nothing...

with my professional life and my family life seemingly crashing in upon me at an increasingly alarming rate, i am finding it somewhat difficult to figure out what to write about today. while writers block is nothing new, and while i certainly have developed a process to type my way out of the this bitch of a funk over the years, i cant seem to come up with any topic that i am positive i could blabber on about for longer than a paragraph or two at the moment.

i could conceivably do a follow up entry to wenesdays blog that caused a mild uproar in team secret falcon land, but that seems too easy at the moment. it doesnt take a genius to pour gasoline on an already existing fire, and i dont feel like voluntarily inserting any more drama into my life than is necessary right now.

i promised a few teammates that i would do a kickball blog on tuesday night, and while i plan on doing so sometime in the near future, the topic isnt exactly calling out to me this morning. heres what you need to know - our team name is "pitches and hoes", we are hilariously bad, we have won only two games all season (both of which coming against the only team in our league who is somehow worse than we are, though i am still unclear on how this is possible), we wear hideous purple shirts, and some people drink "banquet beer" during the games to ease the pain associated with losing to teams full of hot young studs and blond ogre men who no doubt consume live human infant babies on the weekends.

i could write about how the farklers beat the second place team in the league (who had just finished beating the first place team in the league in the first game of their double-header) last night to the tune of 22-3, but that would no doubt come off as bragging, and i have never been one to toot my own horn. at least not in front of other people. gross.

i could go on for hours about the guy on my street who has recently discovered "escape (the pina colada song)" and cranks it in his truck at all times when he is driving. that guy is awesome.

instead, im going to end the blog entry here, and look forward to the end of the work day when i can go home and just rest for a couple days. everyone have a delightful weekend.

and try not to toot your own horn in front of people. the cops looks down upon that. i dont know why.

Angry Blog Entry...

i hate it when you are hanging out with scientists and you ask them a question that you genuinely would like answered, and they laugh at you like you are some sort of idiot child who is wasting their time with such nonsensical musings. you know, that elitist laugh right before a condescending answer that says "oh, you small-minded peasant - your lack of super human intelligence would upset me if i didnt find it so charming and pathetic."

well heres the thing, mr scientist. first, i have made out with no less than seven girls in my life, which im guessing is roughly seven-hundred percent more than you have. so eat me.

second, that white lab coat that you wear everywhere is stupid looking, and you have what appears to be a hot pocket stain on your right lapel.

you know who else i really cant stand? people in their twenties and thirties who have decided that they enjoy red wine and have to let you know about it every single chance they get.

"oh yeah, fred and i just love wine. we have a glass every night with dinner. its the secret to why people live so long in france!" first of all, have fun breaking out in small anuses all over your body, because a majority of people in france are giant assholes. great country to model yourself after.

also, consuming wine doesnt make you more cultured or less of a dickface. werent you that drunken lunatic doing kegs stands in athens just a few short years ago? yeah, i thought so - and people dont suddenly develop a sophisticated palate fifteen seconds after doing jello shots off of your roommates moms stomach at parents weekend at the tri-delt house. people dont change like that. the only person who can be changed that quickly is the kind of person that wears diapers, and me thinks you have been potty trained for some time now. but i guess the fact that you are potty trained doesnt mean that you still cant be full of shit.

anyway, yeah. lots of cussing in todays entry. sorry. my personal life is semi frustrating right now, and sometimes i feel like i need to lash out and hurt someone with my keyboard. even if they are imaginary scientists or yuppie hipsters who have spent too much time in the short north to remember what life was like before they made all of their new white douchebag friends obsessed with gentrification and patting themselves on the back for having been present at every gallery hop since spring of 2005.

yes, i am aware that it is very en vouge to be a white hipster these days, and who can argue with those thick-rimmed glasses? they just look good. the problem is, when white people used to follow the cool kids around town and dive head-first into trends they knew little about, it never gave them a shit-eating grin and a false inflated sense of superiority. now you have people in skinny jeans running around rebuilt urban areas on their vespas while drinking their organic soy sprout lattes, thinking how much better they are than everyone else and pitying those poor idiots who havent yet completely conformed to their enlightened lifestyle. apathy is one hell of a weapon.

so today we salute you, mr imaginary scientist and ms white hipster douchebag. i know how very deeply you both care about what team secret falcon thinks of you.

also, what has happened to all of the blog entry commenting? you know how i thrive on attention and responses to my uninspired abuse of the english language. ill turn this blog around and then no one will be going to disney land. is that what you want? hmm? do you want to ruin my life and not let anyone ride space mountain? do you hear it when your mother quietly sobs to herself in the middle of the night? no? well i do, and its because of you. now you either take responsibility for your life right this very second, or so help me i will end you. i swear on everything holy that even the most hardened of career criminals will cringe when they see the carnage i am about to unleash directly onto your lower facial region.

i am like a small asian child ninja. dont make me show you my kung fu skills.

racism is fun.

Get Rich Quick!

people are always asking me, "morgan - how do i get to the columbus international airport?" and im always like, "mom, youve been drinking and you need to put on some pants."

also, people want to know how to become insanely rich and wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. i am here to help you accomplish your goals and make those dreams come true.

follow these simple steps, and soon you will be rubbing elbows with donald trump, eating the finest meats and cheeses in the land with tiger woods, and frantically trying to rid yourself of pubic lice like tara reid.

HOW TO GET RICH QUICK, YOU GUYS.

1. learn to speak another language - and it doesnt even have to be a real language. it can even be spanish! i always see interesting (or homeless) people downtown walking to their important jobs (or dumpsters) and most of them are talking on their bluetooths (or to themselves) in italian (or crazy-speak) and i think to myself, "that guy is really successful (or high)."

2. always trust african princes - there are thousands of african princes out there, and most of them are looking for americans with only a checking account so that they may give them millions of dollars. no strings attached. and most of them communicate with you via email. how did they go about getting your email address? dont worry about that. it wont matter three weeks from now when you are filthy stinking rich. give them whatever information they need.

3. become a rapper - if theres one thing i know, its that there are plenty of opening for rapping artists out there. i know that personally i was sitting in my living room last night thinking to myself, "if the next sisqo doesnt come out soon, im going to start killing hostages." that could be you. you could be the next sisqo. and you know what word rhymes with "thong"? THONG does. start writing your new single today.

4. ask your parents for money - why not? and dont hesitate to make it worth your while. "mom, dad, ive been thinking about it, and i really really need sixty million dollars." if they dont give it to you, murder your mother with a butter knife to remind your father that you arent playing around. yes, it would be a quicker death with a butchers knife or even a gun, but you arent an animal.

5. invent something awesome, like nintendo 64 - do you know anyone who doesnt have the nintendo 64? its like, am i expected to not play goldeneye every day of my life for as long as i live? you see, theres your angle. if you invent something that already exists, youll find that a lot of people already own your product. then sit back and watch the money roll in. this plan is so perfect and fool-proof that i just crapped all over my pants. and you cant argue with science.

6. wear a long sleeve t-shirt over a short sleeve t-shirt with another short sleeve t-shirt over the long sleeve t-shirt - a pretty solid approach, and youll rarely be confused for someone who only wears one shirt at a time. and if history has taught us anything, its that people who wear only one shirt at a time are the most unsuccessful and unqualified people in the job market and likely have the most debt along with the most DUIs on their permanent record. and they probably live in cleveland, which is where a great majority of all the suck-ass loser buttface douchebag bald headed people of italian and polish decent live and breed.

7. drop out of high school - the more time you give yourself to become rich, the more likely it is to happen. dont waste your time reading books and taking tests that the white man tells you are important. reading is for losers, and brushing your teeth never saved anyones life or made anyone any money. stop brushing your teeth. and if i ever see you reading a book ever again, im going to hire a team of hungry hungry hippos to chew and bite off and consume your marbles until you die from it. and if we have learned one thing about hippos through the years, its that they are marblevores.

8. ask for a raise - making more money is an important stop on the road to becoming rich.

9. rob a bank / win the lottery - it has been proven in a triple blind (way more reliable than a single blind or even a double blind) test at the university of iowa that robbing a bank or winning the lottery greatly increases your chances of becoming filthy stinking rich over the course of the time after you rob a bank or win the lottery as compared to the time directly before you robbed a bank or won the lottery. if possible, do both. like, if you win the lottery, take all the money and bring it to the bank and have them deposit it in their safe. then, when they think you are about to leave, put on a mask and whip out your gun (which you have hidden in your anus) and demand they empty all of the money in your account into a large bag with easy to grip handles. theyll never see it coming! double money!

10. hire a dog to guard your monies - dogs are a good way to make sure no criminals or menacing cats are able to steal your wealth. and they usually work for fairly cheap. feeding them dog food (or grass) once or twice a month will ensure that they have enough strength to bite off anyones head that even thinks about taking your cheddar. also, dogs live anywhere from 27-35 years which means youll have their protection long after your money runs out and you are forced to kill and eat them for sustenance.

good luck!

What Are You Doing To Celebrate?

im listening to a continuous loop of "3am" and "smooth" while doing crystal meth and slapping my girlfriend around.

rob thomas week!

Worst Thing That Has Ever Happened To Me...

this is worse than that time a goat bit off my genitals.