Thrill Seeking...

It has finally happened. The banality of life has caught up with me. I don't know how or when it happened, but all of a sudden, there it was. WHAM! Right in the face. And let me tell you, it hurt.

With this new found outlook on life I began to search for ways to bring some excitement into my everyday life. There were a number of things I could do: skydiving, dodging traffic, running through the Southside in a Speedo, trying to fly, there are a number of things to get my heart going. After many sleepless nights of narrowing down my list of blood-pumping endeavors, I finally decided on the perfect activity.

I awoke last monday with feeling that "today would be the day". I felt alive as I sat through classes, high with the anticipation of what was to come when I got home. "Today is the day that I reclaim my life from whatever monster has swallowed my soul," I told myself.

I got home from class, changed my clothes and went off in search of a better tomorrow. Lucky for me, I didn't have to go far. Within 4 blocks from my house was an establishment guaranteed to supply me with the rush I'd been craving. I walked inside, listed my demands and forever changed my outlook on life.

I took the items supplied to me. I walked home clutching what I'm sure would only be described as a rush I'd never felt before. After arriving home I setup shop in the living room, preparing myself for what was to come.

As I eyed what was before, I couldn't help but question if I was doing the right thing. Maybe life was supposed to be exciting at all times? "Non-sense," I said, "this is it, now or never." I reached down and grabbed the first thing in the bag, I put it in my mouth, chewed and swallowed. What I was feeling can only be compared to what it must be like to play Russian Roulette, the only difference is I wouldn't know the outcome for a couple of hours. I finished eating the entire bag. The blood was pumping. The excitement of what I had just done had brought my whole being to a new level.

After an hour I had starting reassuring myself that I had made it! The chamber did not have a bullet in it. Success. I leaned back on the couch and prepared for a great night of contemplating my next death-defying activity. However, my celebration was premature. Much like M.Gants v4.0's sex life, my happiness peaked before it really began. It started in the stomach, like someone was continuously punching me. It then moved to my head, I was sweating like a hooker in church. What happened? I thought I made it out on top? I guess I was wrong.

The dreaded curse had set in. I was in for a long night of discomfort and occasional pain. The culprit? Midwestern seafood. Why did I eat it? Especially from a place called "Snappy's Shrimp"? I should have known better. The next several hours could only be analogized to your parachute not opening while skydiving. Alright, maybe that was a little extreme, but it did hurt.

I have not attempted "spice up" my life since, and I don't think I will be either. I've grown accustomed to the adrenaline only pumping occasionally. Why engage in death-defying acts when the potential outcome is "death"? That just seems stupid, and it only took a batch of crappy seafood to teach me. To you thrill seekers out there I say this, "Go back to skydiving, playing in traffic or flaunting your riches at poor people, because risking your life by eating seafood in a land-locked state is just not worth it."

This is my hell...

I don't know how many weddings I've gone to this summer, how many weddings I've turned down this summer or how many more weddings I'm supposed to go to next summer or this fall or forever. They never stop. Why must we keep going to everyones' weddings? Do we need to go to their second weddings when they get divorced? I know that may seem a little negative, but come on, 50% of married couples get divorced. That means there is a significant chance that at least one couple I've seen get married will not make it. ($50 says I can pick the couple right now?)

Weddings are supposed to be fun. I think that's crap, some weddings are fun. But most weddings are full of sentimental crap about how the couple fell in love at first sight and they knew from the first date that they would be together forever. These fake stories (which are continually repeated throughout the night) are no where near the truth. Why won't people just tell the truth? "I was at a bar, it was last call, she was there, I hoped she would lose a little weight."

But no, the truth has no place at weddings. The parents' lie about how much they like the spouse, or how the parents have all become best friends. I don't buy any of it for one second. The parents are pissed that they now have to support two kids (because of course neither person getting married has yet to succeed in life), how they're going to lose the cleaning deposit on the hall because one of their son's frat brothers took a shit in the broom closet, and how the bride's father is trying to get out of paying his fair share.

After the wedding, you keep getting letters about Mrs. [groom's first name] [last name]. Why do they insist upon referring to themselves as one name? We all know that they got married, we were at the stupid wedding. Now they have to have one voice and cannot think for themselves. They become more stupid then they all ready were.

I HATE weddings. And now I have to go to another one. This wedding better not suck. At least weddings have one saving grace: the Open Bar. Have you ever noticed that when discussing going to a wedding the question of an open bar inevitably comes up? It is like a bribe to convince people to go. Well, luckily enough, I'm a bit of a lush and an open bar is really all it takes.

Sick Fetishes

M.Gantsv4.0, you have some sick twisted hidden secrets. But, I guess we always knew that. So, here is some love to fuel your late night desires.

Through the Midnight Streets of Chicago

Last weekend we attended the 18th annual Chicago LateRide. I do love the LateRide. Imagine 12,000 people riding their bicycles around Chicago at the same time. Now, imagine they did not start until 1:30 A.M.!! That's right, its not a typo, 1:30 in the morning. I rode last year with fellow online thinker M.Gants v4.0. Last year we engaged in more cat-calling and overall lewd remarks and antics. This year, the ride turned out to be a little more relaxing. In fact, we had more than 3 people so it was more of a social event.

The highlight of this years event was the old man playing classic rock from a boombox strapped to his bike. There is nothing better that singing out Zeppelin at 2 o'clock in the morning. Well, I guess there are somethings that could be better. Another memorable moment was a couple of guys riding a bike they had created themselves. It comprised two bikes welded together to form a 4-wheeled machine, complete with roof. To top it off, the beastly creation was blaring extremely loud death-metal. Listening to music describing the coming of satan really helps the time pass. (Hey, don't knock it 'till you've tried it)

I look forward to next years ride. Perhaps we could bring it to the little town of Leamington Spa sometime soon.

Italy Wins!!!

IITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!ITALY WINS! ITALY WINS!TALY WINS! ITALY WINS!

ITALY WINS!!

Madonna in the Desert?

Sedona Arizona might be one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to. (And I think I've been to a lot of places) While on vacation there this past weekend, I took a Jeep tour through the desert. The tour was amazing, interesting facts about random things: Indians used this plant to make rope, those rocks were once the bottom of the ocean, this flower can pick-up digital satelite. You know those random facts that are really cool in the moment, but you then promptly forget them.

However, there is one fact that I do remember. Apparently Madonna owns a home in Sedona. As we were driving by a gated-community the tour guide mentioned what a prestigious place it was to live, and that Madonna lived in that grey house. Why the hell does Madonna need a home in Sedona, Arizona? There is nothing in that tiny town. She could never leave the gated-community. She would just have to go from the tiny airport to her precious home and no-where else. Madonna and the rest of the celebrity ass-monkeys are ruining the chances for the average American to purchase a nice home is a beautiful place and destroy it on their own. That's right. I want a chance to destroy a limited natural resource. Celebrities are driving up the prices in places of natural beauty to levels that prevent others from entering. Why should celebrities be able to Bogart the beautiful?

No Time For Fun...

Gants...I tried drunk-dialing you ten times this weekend. I became more and more aggravated when a stupid British woman kept telling me the mo-bile phone I've called is turned off. Do they not have voice-mail in Limey Land? If you don't get that crap figured out I'm not going to spend $15 a minute to yell at a recording. Get your crap together!!!

And send me some cool things in the mail.