Life Update

I'm feeling the pressure lately to post, so here I am once again. I'll just give you a few updates on my life as of late.

Taco Thursday

Thursdays have easily become the greatest day of the week. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is on, I don't have class, Tim's is open to anyone older than 18, and there's Taco Thursday, FE's newest tradition.

Every Thursday anyone in the FE office (and JL over at Flyer Spirit) get mass amounts of Taco Bell. The tradition started during our roadtrip to Georgetown earlier this year, and has become the greatest thing FE has done in the past 20 years (and probably the worst thing I've done to my body in the past 20 years). Every week we try to break the total amount of TB ordered, as well as per capita (person). Right now the total record is set at 36 or 37 dollars and the per capita record is roughly $6.50 per person.

Gross.

Paranormal Activity

I saw this movie on Tuesday and it was the worst decision of my life. I have yet to fall asleep being too afraid a demon will haunt me. I've taken a vow not to record myself while sleeping, I don't want to know what happens while I'm out.

Ginger Babies

This picture kills me.

Bad Wheelchair Ramps

During my trip to DC, we walked past a building that had a wheelchair ramp leading up to the main entrance. It was nice and all to see the place welcoming to the disabled; however, the ramp was at a 45 degree angle aimed directly at a busy intersection. I wish I would have taken a picture of it to show its ridiculousness. Luckily there are some pics online to give you an idea of what it looked like.

Anyone who would ride a wheelchair down it would have experienced instant death by rolling straight into the street. Awesome.

FE Management Retreat

Yesterday was the FE Management retreat. It is a time to build camaraderie among managers of the different divisions as well as provide a chance to get away from the stresses of FE and UD (It's also the perfect way to get behind on homework). With all the activities we did throughout the day/night, I learned that the one thing that brings people together more than anything else is...

Mickey Mouse hands

Can I be honest with you for one second? These hands may have been the best investment of my young life. Yes, a car was pretty important, and my college education is somewhat of a big deal, but nothing has provided me with more entertainment value than the simple pair of enlarged gloves. Just one of the many reasons why Disney World is the greatest place on Earth.

They were first brought out during FE story time (when all the managers learn about the history of FE), and were worn by just about every manager in the company afterwards. Seeing everyone with a smile on their face when they put on the gloves almost brought a tear to my eye. Although I don't know exactly how much credit can be given to the gloves for the overall success of the retreat, I do know one thing...

They need to be cleaned. Badly.

Taco Thursday

Nice striped jacket Dan. Nice striped jacket Dan! NICE STRIPED JACKET DAN!!!!!

It's all I ever hear any more.

My Life Is One Big Mistake

Everyone has their flaws, but for some reason people have decided to point mine out over the past week. Lucky for me, I'm someone who is able to take it, mainly because I can turn around and bitch about it in my blog. Here is a short list of my flaws that have been brought to my attention.

1.) I Drag My Feet

The weather has been warm lately, so like most college kids, I like to wear flip flops. They're light, comfortable, and let people see my beautiful toesies. Unfortunately there is an awful side effect of the toe-thonged sandals: dragging your feet is much easier. The stride to my walk is low, so when I wear flip flops, they will scrape the ground much easier than when I am in shoes. Although I feel this is a common problem among sandal wearers, my scraping tends to be louder than the average person. Thanks to a few friends of mine, I am now much more self-conscious about the way I walk.

If you see me walking around incredibly awkward, it's because I'm aware of my dragging and trying to keep my feet off the ground. This usually is done by raising my knees to my chest. Extremely uncomfortable but my feet are on the ground a lot less.

To go along with that, I also tend to stomp when I walk through the house. I guess I never got this walking thing down.

2.) Birthday Blunder

Today is my roommate Paul's birthday. I thought it would be a nice gesture to get him a Coldstone birthday cake.

I was dead wrong.

Let me give you a little backstory. My birthday was a little less than a week ago, and my roommates celebrated with a Coldstone birthday cake. I wanted to make this a simple tradition, one because birthdays with roommates are fun, and two because ice cream cake is mind-blowingly delicious. I ran out to get another cake, excited to share the experience with my friends. I get home and their first response is...

"You got the same cake as last time? Lame."

The cake I had on my birthday was so delicious, I thought everyone would enjoy it a second time. To my disappointment, my roommates did not feel the same way. They saw the cake and went back to their rooms to get away from me, leaving me to eat an entire birthday cake in one sitting. There's no room in our freezer so if I didn't eat it now it would melt. Do you know what it's like to eat an entire birthday cake? It's miserable.

3.) I own too many striped jackets

Although I didn't know this was possible, having multiple striped jackets is not cool. It began with Andrew making fun of me, which I didn't think was a big deal because he tends to make fun of me for just about everything. The jackets were just another item on his long list. However, this past weekend, a few more people found out I have two, count them, TWO jackets with lines in them. They laughed at me, cracked a few jokes, and then I went to my room to cry the rest of the night. Time to start looking for plaid. Or wool. Or burlap. Would people make fun of me if I wore a burlap sack? Probably not.

Kanye West and My Eating Habits

I logged on to Facebook 5 minutes ago to a swarm of posts about how much of a bitch Kanye West is. First of all, I thought it was common knowledge that Kanye is a tool. Isn't that why people like him? Second, did anyone not expect Kanye to do something like this? He pulls the controversial card in just about every public setting. He does it so much that the media writes articles about his incidents days in advance. I read this article about the 2009 VMA stunt three days ago (Don't mind the time stamp, the media updates it to make it look like they did not see it coming).

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I am horrible at eating food. I spend so much money on groceries and end up throwing half of it out because I don't look at most of it again until 2 months past expiration (Never, EVER eat Kraft Macaroni n Cheese 2 years after it expires. Trust me, I know from experience).

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These two topics are completely unrelated, right? Kind of, but there is a small connection. People forget about Kanye West just about as quickly as I forget about my groceries. Once forgotten, Kanye must do something crazy to bring him to the center of attention, leaving the taste of spoiled milk in my mouth. Not the few days past expiration kind of spoiled milk, but the left in the sun for 2 months, chunky, smelling of dead people, vomit in my mouth kind of milk. Also, the lid on the milk was left open while outside and a dog peed in it before I drank it. Yeah, that's the kind of taste Kanye leaves in my mouth. He probably also smells bad, like rotten swiss.

That's how Mr. West is related to my eating habits. Profound, I know.

Peace and Tranquility

So, it's been awhile. Let me update you on the happy haps (what's going on).

For you frequent nappers out there, my roommate and I discovered the most amazing, tranquil Pandora station ever. We took a brief nap (different beds) the other day to the "Calm Meditations" station. I may have been out for less than an hour, but I felt like I slept for a good eight. My body has never felt so at peace. Seriously, put this station on before falling asleep and you will be out cold. I'm listening to it right now and starting to doze off mid post.

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Mustache Madness was last night on Stonemill. Although I was only there for a short amount of time, there were many creative mustaches in attendance. Some real, some a little less real. I tried to rock a mustache, but had a little trouble placing it in the right place. I accidentally ended up with a unibrow, making me look like a complete fool and a huge joke to everyone in attendance. So embarrassing...

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I hate using a sink for the first time, especially when in a public restroom. Without fail, the water pressure is always greater than expected and water sprays outside the basin. But of course it only splashes on your pants, giving the impression that you peed yourself. Sometimes it's just a few sprinkles of water, but occasionally you'll turn on a sink that's suitable for a fire hose, leaving your pants dripping wet, and your friends wondering if you were ever potty trained. Just a small pet peeve.

Spice Up Your Life!

I've been thinking lately about how unspicy my website looks. I mean blue is cool and all, but not even close to a "spicy" color. Plus, flames should be included somewhere. And these girls:


It's probably about time the website got a makeover. I doubt I'll do it though. It's a lot easier to change the way I feel about blue being a spicy color. I think I'll do that.

Speaking of spicy things, I went to Family Fun Day at the Cleveland Browns Stadium today. It was about 95 degrees, and easily the most humid day of the summer. It was fun, although it was miserably hot. My aunt works a concession stand during Browns and Cavs events, so I got a free hotdog and put spicy mustard on it. That's how the story relates to spicy things.

The Browns had an intrasquad scrimmage at 1 during Family Fun Day. It was the "White Team" vs. the "Brown Team." At first I thought it was a little racist and unfair, especially since the White Team would be made up of a couple quarterbacks, punter, kicker, tight ends, and a few offensive linemen. They would have about 3 people to play defense. Not cool.

That was before realizing they weren't splitting the teams based on skin color, but by a predetermined matter with one team wearing brown jerseys and the other one wearing white. That made a little more sense.

It turned out to be a glorified game of two hand touch football. We left at halftime due to the incredible heat and because the game was pretty boring.

Brady Quinn. What a stud... at least that's what my sister says.

Four Things That Would Potentially Make Me Cooler

Learning the Banjo

This desire of mine most likely developed from my ancestors in the South (I'm praying that I have some). Being the planet's most graceful instrument, it amazes me so many bands lack the melodic twangs of the banjo. Listening to a talented banjoist (I have no idea if that's what they're called) gives me goosebumps. I'm sure 95% of the American population would agree. If I learned heaven's instrument (the harp is a close second), women would throw themselves at me, everyone would want to be my friend, I would be loved, and I would potentially be cooler.

Being a Vampire

Let's face it, girls these days (ages ranging from 12-65) love bloodsucking, pale skinned immortals. Not being one myself sets me back in the coolness book. Now, I did not read or see Twilight, but I have seen half of Van Helsing before getting bored, so I'm as much of a vampire expert as the next guy. And if Van Helsing is any indication, today's young women are into some pretty violent, kinky stuff. To up my coolness, I guess I could start by sleeping in a coffin all day. I already sleep in until 11 on the weekends, so what's another 10 hours?



I rest my case.

Wear My Sunglasses at Night

Although extremely dangerous, especially while driving, cool people like to throw caution to the wind to prove their badassness. Cool people don't really need eyesight to see anyway. They use instinct and a strong sense of smell to direct them to where the action is. That's why they always smell so good too. Cool people tend to lose their...cool when in the company of someone with B.O. They can whiff it from over 3 kilometers away (the study was done in Europe, hence the metric system). Long story short, I need to wear sunglasses at the most inappropriate times to potentially make me cooler.

Looking cool my friend, looking very cool.

Sit in a Freezer for an Extended Period of Time

Although this will not help me "look" cooler to people, it will definitely make me feel cooler. In fact, on a hot summer day this sounds rather appealing.

Heck, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that sitting in a fridge on a 90 degree day would actually make me "look" cooler. Everyone would be so jealous and wish they were me, sitting in the cozy, sub 30 degree ice box. I hear vampires don't have heartbeats or pulses and tend to be colder, so I can kill two birds with one stone.

Breaking News

Something to think about: when there is nothing in the news, the media still shoves breaking stories in our faces about absolutely nothing. Usually it's an opinion from someone with absolutely no credibility about something meaningless. I recently read a headline saying Hank Aaron wants the names of all people who tested positive for performance enhancing drugs in 2003 to be revealed. Personally, I think this could squeak by as a news item if Aaron had any authority over revealing the names. The writer tries his best to make Aaron a credible source by mentioning his Hall of Fame status, or calling him the "former home run king." In other words, he played baseball a long time ago.

Then there's the whole ordeal between Henry Gates and Sgt. Crowley that got blown WAY out of proportion. I remember watching the President's press conference. As soon as he said the word "stupidly," I knew it was going to be all over the news the next day. The media had a field day with that one. Hell, updates about the situation are still in the news today. Mr. Gates recently made a statement saying he likes Sgt. Crowley. Important stuff.

I try to keep up to date on current events, but it's so hard when I have to sift through stories about "15 year glue-sniffer realizes Elmer's is non-toxic," or "Purel only kills 99.98% of germs; man sues after finding .02% of germs on his hands," or "Giant meteor kills everyone in China."

I should just start getting my updates on current events from a reliable source: the local news.

But to tell the truth, I love the news. Some things you just can't make up. Like "Jobless graduate sues her college for $70,000." You feel bad for the girl because she can't find a job, but at the same time you realize she's a spoiled brat who doesn't deserve one. Not to mention the 2.7 GPA she says recruiters should be jumping all over.

Man on lawnmower during beer run charged with DUI. Pretty self explanatory.

That was a little bit of a rant. I apologize. This might cheer you up:

My Birthday

Today is not my birthday. I'm sure those of you who don't know me very well would be misled by a title like that. I just have something to say about it. My birthday is awesome, or brilliant, for those of you who are British (lucky).

Why is it awesome? Is it because I get presents? Could it be the amount of free beverages I get the 21st time around? Possibly because without it I would not exist? Well...yes. All of those make it awesome. But I am not talking about birthdays in general, I'm talking about mine.

Let me take you back. The date: September 9th, ten years ago. It was probably the second most celebrated day that year right behind Christmas. Everyone was swept away by the date: 9/9/1999. No one could ever imagine that many nines on one day until now. In an objective and completely unbiased fact, it was the greatest day of the century. No one has seen anything quite like it since 8/8/1888, and most of those people were dead. Plus, there was 8/8/1888, 7/7/1777, 6/6/1666, but what comes after 9/9/1999? Nothing. It's the biggest date this millenium with more than 80% of the numbers matching.

Not to mention the SEGA DREAMCAST came out that day. Easily the best video game entertainment system of our generation.

When your birthday has the same date as it is the month, it's always cool when the last digit of the year also matches. This year, for example is 2009. So my birthday is 9/9/2009. Basically, it's a big deal.

If today is your birthday....Happy Birthday!

It's Genius Really

I've always wanted to be a zookeeper in an awkward situation with a coworker. It's definitely blockbuster movie material. Think about it. I would say things like "Let's talk about the elephant in the room." The camera would then pan out to a large elephant standing next to me. Or I could say "I need to get this monkey of my back." The camera would pan out to a monkey doing backflips on my shoulders.

The movie would involve me saying one english idiom after another, followed by the camera zooming out to reveal a literal interpretation. It's genius really.

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I read an article today about a man who revived a 45 million year old specie of yeast and then used it to brew beer. His original intent was to find some sort of medicinal purpose, but after exhausting any practical uses for it, had a friend talk to a brewer about making a prehistoric beverage. Apparently the drink tastes good too. It actually received excellent reviews from distinguished beer drinkers (red necks).

I really want to try this beer, merely for nostalgic purposes. I want to see if it will bring me back to a simpler time. A time when man did not have a care in the world. Because he didn't exist. A time when the most anything had to worry about was getting eaten by a 20 foot flesh-eating T-Rex on a rampage. A time when mosquitos were the size of my head and dying via tar pit was an inconvenient possibility. In essence, the good times. Plus it would be really cool to drink something that's 45 million years old. It's genius really.

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I found out recently that the lady who protests in front of UD every Friday (the Hazing Lady for those of you who know her) teaches or taught or did something at Magnificat High School. It blew my mind to find out she does anything other than stand in front of the school Friday afternoons. I could have sworn I was paying for her services through my tuition. Doesn't every college have a woman who makes you feel incredibly awkward by singing to you as you try to cross the street? It's genius really.

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And then there's this:



It's genius really.

Two Post Tuesday

This man is nuts



I have no words.

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The strangest thing happened on my way to work today. I drove instead of taking the bus because I had no change. Stupid RTA only takes exact change. I was on the highway when a cop guns it a couple hundred feet in front of me. I was pumped, hoping that someone was about to get pulled over. No one did.

The cop began to swerve through all four lanes, not letting anyone through. Having no idea what was going on, I began to think the man behind the wheel stole the car and was F-ing with everyone on the freeway. After about 5 minutes of this nonsense, he stops and I notice a car to the left with a flat tire. The cop gets out of his car and makes everyone sit there while the man drives over to the right side of the rode, away from immediate danger. All that and I didn't even get to see a major 10 car pileup. Disappointing...

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I was on my way home yesterday from playing a few games of basketball with some friends when Mariah Carey's Touch My Body came over the airwaves. Nothing special, but considering it's such a sexually driven song, it got me wondering: do singers ever make love to their own music?

I can't help but think someone like Mariah Carey will only do it to the tune of her own music. If I was a famous singer I think I would too.

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Here are a couple websites I have been looking at the past couple weeks. One is LOL funny, the other not as funny but is awesome.

Emails from an Asshole: This man finds ads in classifieds, and harrasses the people who placed the ads. Some hilarious interactions follow (Thanks Darja for this one).

1000 Awesome Things: A collection of the small things in life that are truly awesome. I would agree with about 95% of the things on this site. Every one that I can really connect with puts a huge smile on my face. Check it out.

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Two posts today. Sorry, I had some catching up to do.

Heartwarming Email

I received the sweetest, most heartfelt email today. It's such a good feeling to know that someone can care about me so much. I think I'll share it with you guys.

Hello Daniel,

I am writing on behalf of the Internet Sales Team here at Pat O'Brien Chevrolet to say that we miss you.

We care about your needs at Pat O'Brien and wanted you to know that we didn't forget about you.

We were also wondering if there was anything we could do for you?

Would you like another fresh quote on a vehicle from us? You originally sent a request in for a 2009 Chevrolet Cobalt Base Coupe. Have you changed direction? We know that many times your initial request isn't necessarily what you end up being interested in based on your wants, needs and / or budgetary concerns.

Have you been to our website recently to view all of our current specials on new and used vehicles? At Pat O'Brien's Website we post all of our New and Used vehicle inventory online and our UpFront Pricing Guarantee on each and every vehicle there.

Do you have any concerns we can address for you? jsetele@patobrienchevy.com Please note that you can call me on my cell phone, or even text message me at 440.376.1030 if that would be more convenient for you.

We are looking forward to hearing from you and thank you for the opportunity to serve you at Pat O'Brien Chevrolet.

Thank you for your time,

Jim

Such a thoughtful e-mail. He even gave me his cell phone number just in case I ever had any problems in my life that I wanted to get off my chest. I've never had a friend quite like this car dealership. And they miss me! :)

Unfortunately, we're not as close of friends as I thought. If we were, Pat O'Brien (POB) Chevy would know that I bought a car already.

From a rival dealership.

I would tell them, but I can't bear to break their heart after such a warm and thoughtful email. Letting go is such a hard thing to do...

Sidenote: I wonder what a "fresh" car quote looks like. I didn't know they could go bad. I wonder if they smell like rotten milk when they do. Gross.

Erie, PA: A Priceless City in an Otherwise Bland State

***Jessica: If you read this post, I apologize in advance for completely tearing apart your hometown. I'm sure Erie is a wonderful place. If you are ever in Euclid, feel free to make fun of it all you want.***

***Those of you from Cincinnati: I don't apologize***

The title is somewhat misleading, and by somewhat I mean completely misleading. Erie may very well be a great place, but I did not get a full experience. I've only been there twice for their local attractions; Waldameer Park and Splash Lagoon. I went to Waldameer yesterday, and judging by the crowd in attendance, Erie can be none other than a high class town (Two words come to mind when I think of Erie: mohawks galore!).

We were a little hesitant about taking the trip since there was a chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon (I went with my two brothers and one of my sisters). We go anyway, hoping for the best. Sure enough, as soon as we enter the great state of Pennsylvania, it starts POURING! I begin to get depressed knowing I just drove an hour and a half to the middle of nowhere and probably won't be able to ride anything. What a comforting welcome to a new state. Fortunately for us, mother nature was just messing with us and clear skies appeared as soon as we arrived.

Waldameer Park is a relatively small park, but is surprisingly fun. It is home to one of the best wooden coasters in the world: The Ravine Flyer II. This coaster and the Georgia Cyclone at Six Flags Over Georgia have changed my perspective on wooden roller coasters forever. Being a frequenter to Cedar Point, I have not experienced any good wooden rides. But now that I am expanding on my roller coaster knowledge, I'm slowly being won over by the wood.

On top of the Ravine Flyer II, other fantastic attractions include the X-Scream (a free-fallin drop tower), the Screaming Dragon (a roller coaster where the seat spins in circles while you ride), the Wacky Shack (a semi-haunted house), and the Seadragon (a giant swinging dragon, similar to the Ocean Motion at Cedar Point).

While waiting in line for lunch, I had a conversation with a man who was having a downer day at the park. Why so? He ran out of snuff halfway through the day and was just itching to get his hands on some more! I felt sorry for the man, but since I'm not into chewing tobacco, could not help him out in any way. After that convo, I knew there was no way this day could go wrong. To make it even better, he was wearing Crocs with socks! I was in heaven. Waldameer Park, on top of being incredibly fun, is ripe for blogging!

You should also know that I braved their Sky Ride, which was twice as frightening as any other one I have ever been on. It was basically a ski lift, with only a thin bar in front of me. I was on edge the entire time, but made it off safely.

So yeah...I won't bore you with every detail about the park, but it was fun. I would recommend it. There are a lot of rides that are sure to impress.

During lunch today at work, a few coworkers just so happened to mention amusement parks they have been to recently. One was talking about how the people are completely different going from Disney World one year to King's Island the next. He said compared to Disney, people at King's Island are incredibly trashy (since it calls Cincinnati as its hometown, I couldn't agree more). This man obviously has never been to Erie, PA. All I can say is, WOW. I thought the Dirty South was bad. I was pleasantly surprised by the locals. After being there, I 100% believe the Civil War only ended because the North was willing to take Erie from South. The South thought Erie was too trashy for them and decided to trade it for an end to slavery. The South totally won out on the deal. The North would be kicking themselves for several years after (I should be a history teacher). I felt like I was in the middle of a trailer park the entire time.

Next park on the agenda is Cedar Point again in August. I already posted about CP earlier this summer, but I'm sure there will be some stories to share, so I'll keep you posted.

Red Robin! Yummmmmmmm

I went to Red Robin yesterday with a friend and a few people I didn't know. We were on our way to this fine establishment when said friend asked, "What is your favorite thing at Red Robin Dan?" Granted, she has never been to the best burger joint on the planet with me, but I've decided that the only people who truly know me are the ones who know what I order at Red Robin just about every time.

The Red Robin Bacon Cheeseburger. Easily the best slab of cow topped with pigs, vegetables, and condiments in North America (if there are Red Robins internationally, then the best in the world). Typically medium-well, and more often than not with pepperjack cheese. If anyone wants to know how to make me feel on top of the world, this is it.

Depending on what kind of mood I'm in (and the amount of money I have at the time), I will splurge on a freckled lemonade. Red Robin's signature beverage, this delightful treat will quench your thirst and keep you coming back for more. Fortunately for the patron who orders it, they are bottomless, just like the fries, so drink up! One of the best parts of the lemonade is the fresh strawberries they put right in the drink! So satisfying.

Speaking of bottomless fries, if you can actually eat any more after the giant burger they give you, you can get all the fries you want. Their fries are almost always scorchingly hot, so be careful, you might burn yourself! And yes, just like everything else, they are incredibly delicious. If you're lucky, you may even get some fries before your meal even comes out! Next time you go, make sure to ask for some fries while you wait for your food.

Here's to hoping that someone high up in Red Robin sees my blog and decides to give me free Red Robin for life.

As I was saying, I tend to get the same thing just about every time I go. It's not that I haven't tried new things either. It's just, whenever I do, I'm left disheartened knowing I could have had a much better burger in the Bacon Cheeseburger (not that any of Red Robin's burgers are sub-par Mr. Top Executive that is reading my blog. Please still give me free burgers!) It's just nice to have something in life to rely on, and so far the only thing I have found is this delectable burger.

Feel honored knowing that you are now part of the select few that truly know me.

The Sky Ride (Almost) Kills Again...

You may remember my post a couple months ago about my fears of the Sky Ride, a high wire balancing act found at most amusement parks that almost always ends in death...well...not usually...well...never. Basically, I don't understand why someone would risk their life like that knowing there's a possibility of being "dangled to death."

Today I found out something rather appalling while at work. I was reading internet articles for 3/4th's of the day, as usual, and found out someone was seriously injured on this death trap. A man fractured his vertabrae falling 35 feet into some shrubbery below. I won't bore you with any more of the details, and some of you may say that my fears are still not justified by this particular accident. I'll post the article though as proof of the incident, since most of you probably don't believe an accident can occur on this operating graveyard (Because it is likely to kill you while you ride it. I wasn't sure if that joke was a bit of a stretch so I thought I would be kind enough to explain it. I'm such a gentleman).

The man injured was a kicker for a college football team. Looks like he may be out the rest of the season due to his stupid lifestyle choice to hang around the mechanical grim reaper. Poor guy, but I'm not at all surprised.

I was reading an article today about how moths are able to trick bats using the same sonar techniques that the bats use. The article made me think about how much it would suck to be a bat. Every single member of your specie is blind and can only find its way around by an annoying high pitched yell. Not only that, but a simple moth can fake you out. That would be smelly.

It would also blow to be a squirrel. Mainly because most of your family members will die by getting hit by a car. Someone needs to get the ball rolling on teaching these squirrels how to look both ways before crossing the street.

$23,148,855,308,184,500

The Goodyear building that was across the street from where I work was recently torn down/blown up/something of the sort. Workers have been destroying the rubble for the past two weeks now, and we are able to see the demolition from our 8th story windows.

One man out of the wrecking crew has the best job in the world: as the machines destroy what remains of the building, this man must hold a hose and spray the crushed rocks to make sure dust is kept to a minimum. Every time I've looked outside, he is there holding the hose. I don't know how this man found this job, but sign me up!

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I saw this article today while at work (Quadrillion Dollar Charge). Thought it was hilarious. A man goes to the gas station and buys a pack of smokes, checks his debit card balance later, and sees he was charged $23 quadrillion dollars. No joke. CNN put it beautifully saying, "He noticed that his debt exceeded the world GDP while making a routine balance inquiry..." How cool would it be to have more debt than every country in the world combined for a short period of time? 23 quadrillion! Imagine seeing that on your credit card statement! The actual total was $23,148,855,308,184,500. Easily the most expensive pack of cigarettes ever.

The Bus, The Bus, The Bus Is On FIRE!

I made one of the most regrettable decisions of my young life earlier today. What was that decision you ask? Well read on and you'll find out. Do you actually think I would leave you hanging like that?

It was quite a normal day at the office. Did a few odds and ends jobs for about eight hours, then headed home. On the bus. Yes, I may have a car now, but I have my reasons for still taking public transportation, like near-death experiences such as today. Ok, it wasn't that close to death, but still, it was crazy.

Continuing, the bus gets on the freeway and we're well on our way home. Things were going pretty smoothly until...BOOM! The engine starts sputtering and we pull of to the side of the road. I was sitting a couple rows from the back, when all of the sudden smoke begins flooding the cabin from the rear (the engine is located in the back of the bus). Having no clue as to what was going on, everyone gets off and stands around trying to figure out how they will be getting home.

Then, I look over at the bus. To my surprise, THE ENGINE WAS ON FIRE! I take a few more steps back in anticipation of a huge explosion, you know, the kind that throws you ten feet in the air which you only see in action movies. The bus driver grabs a fire extinguisher from inside the bus and puts out the ginormous blaze. He saved our lives right then, and I never got the chance to thank him. The backup bus had arrived and I didn't want to miss it.

BUT WAIT! There's more! (In honor of Billy Mays) While watching the inferno, a friend from high school, who just so happened to be on the same bus, comes up to me. We start chit-chatting, and I find out this was the second bus he has been on that has caught on fire! Apparently this is a routine thing that happens in Cleveland's RTA system. Really makes one feel secure knowing your rapid can burn to the ground at any second.

My regrettable decision? Not taking a picture of that majestic flame that made its home in the RTA engine. Sigh...

Chances are it will happen again though, so there will be plenty of other opportunities!

This used to be on the bathroom wall at my family's former house. Completely forgot about it until my sister sent me the Facebook bumper sticker.



I think it took me about 16 years to figure out what four letters filled in the blanks. I always assumed "poop" but realized later in life it may be something a little more vulgar. I was such a naive little boy. Still am, actually.

Fat People Are Angry Drivers

There are so many places I want to go, but I don't have the money. Funny thing is, when I actually do have money I probably won't have the time. Bogus. I should just become I pilot.

I knew I should have invested my money in AOL stock when I was six! I would hardly have to give a thought to trivial things like time and money. Instead, I blew it all on video games, candy, and hard drugs. I wasn't the most financially savvy adolescent.

Advice I've been getting from some of my coworkers: Never leave college. It sucks. Apparently I don't work with the most optimistic people. Then again, I work in an accounting firm, so I guess it's to be expected.

Taking I-77 North from the west side of Cleveland to get to I-90 East is probably the most confusing thing ever. I switched lanes about 7 times to try and get in the right one and ended up downtown on my way home. A slight detour, luckily there's a lot to see in downtown C-town, like the giant FREE stamp, or...actually that about covers it. I also realized the east side of Cleveland has about 1/4th the amount of traffic as the west side. Looks like I lucked out.

While on the subject of driving, apparently Cleveland ranks #2 for the most friendliest drivers in America, right behind Portland. Cincinnati ranks #9 as the least courteous drivers, right behind New York, Dallas, Detroit, Atlanta, Minneapolis/St. Paul, Phoenix, Miami, and Houston (http://www.bizjournals.com/boston/stories/2009/06/15/daily29.html).

Also of note: Of the top 10 cities listed as the least courteous drivers, 7 of them also rank among the top 25 fattest cities (New York, Dallas, Detroit, Phoenix, Miami, Houston, San Diego) (http://www.mensfitness.com/lifestyle/216).

Coincidence???

Michael Jackson And The South: A Dynamic Combo

I sorely miss the south. Every trip I've ever taken has been an out of this world experience. Southern folk are second to none, and the south is home to the best restaurant franchises the world over. I'm sure there are so many other hidden gems that I have yet to discover, and something tells me I'll be down there in the near future.

60+ degrees everyday in the dead of winter? Helloooo? How awesome is that?

All my southern fantasies have me thinking. What if the Civil War went the other way? Would America's roles be reversed? That is, would Northern folk be high class white trash and the people down under be normal? Would New Yorkers proudly display the American flag across their pickup trucks like so many Southerners do with the Confederate flag? What about Montana? Would people actually recognize that it exists? Would I be living on a cotton plantation right now? Would I have a son your age, but much better looking than you? So many unanswered questions that I am dying to know.

I'm also curious how many more hits on my blog I can get if I mention Michael Jackson a lot. Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, Jacko, the King of Pop, Jesus juice, Neverland, little boy lover, Michael Jackson, Thriller, Beat It, Free Willy, Michael Jackson. That should get a few, right?

Putting aside the abuse of a dead person for the sake of blog popularity, there is something of interest in the Jackson ordeal. His memorial service is tomorrow. 1.6 million people fought for the chance to attend, with 17,500 people getting tickets. As you would expect, tickets started popping up on eBay and Craigslist. Granted, both eBay and Craigslist tried to stop the auctions, which is for the best. Even I find it a bit sketchy to try and profit off of someone's death (even though I did just use it to boost blog visits). But get this, bidding for tickets reached upwards of $15,000! How insane is that!? You really have a lot of extra cash laying around if your willing to drop that much on a memorial service. Who needs Obama's stimulus plan? Leave it to Michael to find a way to solve the economic crisis.

People are nuts.

Bones 2

During my freshman year of college, I came home one random weekend at the beginning of November. Whenever I come home, something changes, and this occasion was no different. I was outside with my family when a cat that I have never seen before comes up to the porch. I'm pretty sure this cat was as close to death as possible at the time. I've never felt anything as skinny as that thing.

My family tends to give our pets very descriptive names. For instance, we have a black cat named Black and a grey one named Grey. Going with this trend, it was only appropriate to name this new one Bones. Unfortunately, that trip home was the only time I would ever see Bones. He stopped showing up by the time I came home for Thanksgiving Break. I'm pretty sure he's about as dead as Michael Jackson (too soon?).

Funny story, I go out to the porch today and see my sister petting an unknown cat (unknown to me at least). I asked what it was, and my sister sarcastically says, "It's a cat." I tell her I hate her and go back inside.

Apparently it's a new cat that's been showing up for the past few days. Considering I've been home for the past two months, I have no idea how I did not know about it. My family doesn't tell me anything.

Anyway, this cat is pretty skinny as well. It does not have a name (known to us), so I've been calling it Bones 2. It is the second grossest cat to touch, right behind the original Bones. After petting it, you can't help but have the urge to wash your hands right away. Everyone avoids its tail when petting it, because it's covered in crap.

We'll see how long Bones 2 can last.

Corporate Challenge Kickball

I may have mentioned this before, but some hippie no name group puts together an event in the Cleveland area aptly named "The Corporate Challenge." Essentially it is a bunch of different games played by various companies. The sports that I know about include softball, putt-putt, volleyball, bowling, cornhole, and kickball. I was supposed to be Pease and Associates' "ringer" for softball, however the tournament was rained out. Therefore, my job was on the line for kickball. Perform well or face the possibility of losing my internship. No pressure.

The kickball tournament started bright and early, 12:30pm this past Saturday. I spent the previous night helping my parents with their paper route since their van broke down halfway through. It's a long story. Point is I was up from 3:30-7:30 Saturday morning. Considering what was at stake for this kickball tournament, I was not in the best shape to play already. Would I be able to pull through?

We arrive at the field around 11:30, and in typical Pease fashion, kick back a couple beers before we start. The tournament was incredibly unorganized, and the games were running late. Our original starting time of 12:30 was pushed back to 1:30. We take the field, with me playing shortstop. First game went by pretty smoothly, with Pease taking an unexpected win.

Then the waiting came. Since each game took much longer than expected, we ended up sitting around until our next game started TWO HOURS later. Luckily we brought plenty of beer to pass away the time (UD grads know how to play kickball).

To give you an idea of how unorganized this tournament was, let me give you some facts. There were probably a total of 25 teams in three separate divisions. Assuming each time has 8 players, that's about 200 people. There were also family members who came to watch, and the staff. I would say the total amount of people there was around 350. THERE WERE TWO PORT-O-POTTIES! AND TWO TRASH CANS! These cans were overflowing with garbage. I've never seen anything like it.

On to game two. We win again! We're thinking pretty highly of ourselves right now. With our expectations being two losses and leaving (It was a double elimination tournament), we were flying high. However, we were all getting tired and no one brought sunscreen so we were getting pretty burnt, me especially. I'm glowing red as I write this.

Game three. We lose. Damn.

Up to this point, I haven't done much to really stand out in order to keep my job. It's not that I was bad, but I wasn't anything special either. Then came game four. It was my time to shine. I think the opposing team wanted to help me keep my internship so they hit everything in my direction. Let me tell you, I was ready for it. At one point my teammates were saying they were only performing well because I willed it to happen. One teammate even exclaimed, "Thanks for willing me to catch the ball Legcock," after he caught a fly ball. I was nicknamed Legcock also. Funny, because its kickball. I use my legs. Between the 3rd and 4th innings, I recorded 6 straight outs. Not too shabby. I think it's safe to say my job is still intact.

Game 5. We lose again. Normally this would be a heartbreaker, but considering it was 7:30 in the afternoon, no one actually wanted to play anymore. The loss worked out in our favor.

Meet Antonio

I did not know what I was getting myself into during my bus ride this morning. I met this kid, roughly 16-17 years of age, that grew up in New York City before moving to Peoria, Il, then moving again to Euclid. The kid told me his life story on our 20 minute ride to downtown Cleveland, but regretably, I never got his name. He'll be working downtown throughout the summer so I'll have to get it on a future trip. I'll refer to him as Antonio for the time being.

I walk down the aisle and take a seat next to a small kid (Antonio), thinking it would be your average ride. He turns to me and asks, "Do you know where St. Clair Ave is?" I answer his question as best I can. He then says, "I just moved from Illinois so I don't know the area at all."

"Where at in Illinois are you from?" I inquire.

"Peoria."

"No way! My college roommate is from there!"

"What's his name?"

"Jordan Barth."

"I might have a cousin that knows him."

"Oh."

We then get to talking, and I find out how much of a delinquent this kid truly is. Don't get me wrong, I like the kid, but he is definitely trouble. He talked about his time in juvy, and how Cleveland juveniles are such wusses compared to the ones in New York. You can yell and taunt the kids in the Cleveland detention centers and they won't budge, but if you do it to a kid in NYC, they'll fight back. Good to know.

Apparently there was a girl in Cleveland that shaved her head so she could get in the boys detention center to avoid the girls one, because the girls are much, much worse. Girls, if you ever find yourself in juvy, make sure to shave your head to avoid trouble. It works.

Antonio loves the subway in New York. He gave me tips on how to avoid paying fares. All you have to do is wait until the train begins to move, climb to the roof, and hang on for dear life. Antonio has never payed for a fare in his life. Badass. He's able to do this kind of stuff because he's not afraid of heights. Living in NYC has made him fearless.

He learned how to drive at a young age. His biological father taught him to flip the bird to other New York drivers. His adopted father was not too happy when he saw Antonio flipping drivers off!

Antonio loves karate, but tends to get kicked out of martial arts schools. His teachers are a bunch of clowns that just don't understand how good he is. He kicked the ass of every black belt in one of his schools, but they refused to move him up in rank. He loved to spar against the girls at his karate school, because they were all fat and easy to dance around.

The best part came towards the end of the bus ride. Right before Antonio's stop, he pulled out his plastic gun that he uses to shoot poison tipped darts at people. It was a gun that shot foam darts, and he would put a poison tipped needle on the end of it. That freaked me out a little bit. I was kind of glad he was getting off the bus at that point.

I learned these and other life lessons today. Hopefully I will have more to share in the future.

Dirty Pop

Sick and tired of hearing all these people talk about,
What's the deal with this pop life, and when is it gonna fade out?
The thing you got to realize what we doing is not a trend.
We got the gift of melody, we gonna bring it till the end.
(Come on now)

It doesn't matter
'Bout the car I drive or what I wear around my neck.
All that matters
Is that you recognize that it's just about respect.
It doesn't matter
About the clothes I wear and where I go and why.
All that matters
Is that you get hyped and we'll do it to you every time.
(Come on now)

Do you ever wonder why
This music gets you high?
It takes you on a ride
Feel it when your body
Starts to rock
(Your body starts to rock)
Baby you can't stop
(You can't stop)
And the music's all you got
Come on now
This must be, pop

Dirty pop
Baby bet you can't stop
I know you like this dirty pop
This must be

Now,why you wanna try to classify the type of thing we do?
'Cause we're just fine doin' what we like, can we say the same for you?
Tired of feelin all around me animosity.
Just worry about yours 'cause I'ma get mine.
Now people can't you see

It doesn't matter
'Bout the car I drive or the ice around my neck.
All that matters
Is that you recognize that it's just about respect (oh)
It doesn't matter
About the clothes I wear and where I go and why.
All that matters
Is that you get hyped and we'll give it to you every time.
(Come on)

Do you ever wonder why (Why?)
This music gets you high?
(Gets you high)
It takes you on a ride
Feel it when your
Body starts to rock
(Your body starts to rock)
Baby you can't stop
(You can't stop)
And the music's all you got
Baby come on
This must be, pop

Ooh
Man I'm tired of singing.

Sorry, I couldn't help myself.

Bus Rides

Not having a car can be a bit of a downer, but riding the public transit can definitely have its perks. I arrive at the bus stop at 8am every day and let my imagination run wild.

For starters, there is one lady who waits at the bus stop with me...usually. Occasionally a random man in a white Cadillac will drive up to the stop and she will hop in the car and wait there until the bus arrives. Sometimes the man even gives her a ride to the stop, but usually he comes a little after she gets there. It's all a bit shady, and I can't help but think that there are some extramarital affairs occurring, or at least I hope so. That would make waiting for the bus much juicier. Bus stop gossip is the best kind of gossip.

The past couple morning bus rides have been extraordinary. Yesterday, a couple sitting to my left had the wildest conversation I have ever heard in my life. It was mainly the guy talking, but every word that came out of his mouth was LOLworthy. I would reiterate it word for word, but I like to keep the swearing on my blog to a minimum. About every other word that came out of his mouth was the F-bomb. Just to give you an idea, I overheard talks of telling a doctor to shove his head up his own ass, destroying every car we passed on the freeway, and not giving a f%*$ about anything. It was extremely hard not to laugh the entire way to work.

This morning, the lady to my right was supposedly talking to one of her friends on the phone. Nothing special, except halfway through the conversation she started talking about how she didn't understand why the cops were called, she wasn't actually going to kill anyone. Apparently this girl was arrested for aggravated assault, or something like that, I'm not really up on my crime lingo. It came out of left field. It blows my mind that you can find these treasure conversations on the RTA. I love it.

In other news, I got my first postcards (Diane, I have not received yours, sorry). The first place I can cross off my list is........West Virginia! And to make life even better, I have two of them!

Becoming Famous the Easy Way

I've been on a bit of a Justin Timberlake kick lately. Not just his music (especially when he was with N'Sync, OMG), but also his laid back celebrity personality. There's something about his random appearances on Saturday Night Live skits that makes me admire him. As I sit here and write this post while JT is bringing sexy back on my iPod, I can't help but think that he's the type of celebrity I would want to be like if (make that when) I become famous.

But the underlying question is, how do I become that famous? Looking back at JT's career, it actually looks relatively straightfoward: Join the Mickey Mouse Club, be the lead singer of a boy band, bang a famous singer, leave the boy band and do it all yourself instead, bang more famous people, do a couple acting side jobs, and appear on just about every episode of SNL. Easy. I already love Disney World so I'm off to a good start.

Unfortunately, I can't sing for the life of me and people make sure I know about it. Since no one wants to hear me sing, that impedes my ability to join a boy band, which in turn makes it much more difficult to bang a famous singer (although I'm not going to rule it out). Seeing as I'm a talentless accountant from the Midwest also really sets me back a bit. Getting famous the JT way is probably out of the question.

But then I thought, who is the most famous person ever? Only one name came to mind: David Hasselhoff. He doesn't sing, hardly acts, and yet, people can't get enough of him. Becoming famous the Hasselhoff way is soooo much simpler too: Get a car that can talk, become a lifeguard, then pretend to be a judge on a sub-par talent competition. It's so easy, I can't believe I didn't think about it before!

Fame and fortune, here I come!

Cheap Post

I'm going for a cheap thrill today. I was looking through some pictures and videos on my phone, when I came across these. They are some of the embarrassing videos people have sent me. I figured most of you have already seen them, so no harm no foul.

This first one was on the car ride HOME from Daytona as you can tell with the Mickey hands that I cherish so much. Not sure how I had this much energy, but the backseat was a dance party for about 15 hours.



This is me over 56 Woodland dancing with umbrellas because I was sick of playing Boom. I've come to hate that game. It never ended well for me.



Also, it is now a lifelong dream of mine to be a part of this:

-

You would think that living with five other siblings, I would have plenty to do in my spare time. Unfortunately, none of them are ever around, leaving me depressed and alone in a big, empty house. I don't mind growing up, but I'm not as big of a fan of the rest of my family growing up too. Anyways...

My mind is drawing a complete blank right now, I guess I spoke too soon about that "orgasm of creativity" I mentioned yesterday. For today, I'm just going to leave you with a few facts you may or may not know about me.

Name: Daniel James Laycock

Hair color: Brown

Eye color: Blue

Hometown: Euclid, OH

Social Security #: Get real

Siblings: 2 brothers, 3 sisters

Major: Accounting

Minor: Economics (I always forget I have that)

Favorite Food: Beef stroganoff (I only really know it's my favorite food because my mom makes it a priority to make it every time I come home from school)

Favorite Movie: Forrest Gump or Heavyweights probably

Favorite Black President of the United States of America: Barack Obama

Favorite Grape Juice: the dark kind

Favorite Musician: Clarence Carter (I'm strokin!)

Favorite Childhood Memory: Playing war with my brothers and sisters. This involved me and my brother picking teams and fighting each other to "the death." Every time my mom got pregnant, we would have to fight it out to see who would get the new sibling. These battles usually got pretty intense and someone would end up grounded for weeks on end.

Favorite College Memory: Dancing with umbrellas

Favorite Ice Cream: The Galley flavor of the month

Favorite Fancy Restaurant: ArtStreet Cafe

Broken bones: 2. Broke my nose when I was 9 playing baseball. Broke my hand sophomore year of college playing basketball.

Favorite Dog: Not Jenny.

That's about all I got today. I'll get back to the grind tomorrow, don't you worry your little self.

Cedar Point

My mind is racing with ideas for this blog while I'm sitting up in my 8th floor office in the sky. I'm basically getting paid the big bucks to write these posts, so I'm going to enjoy it while I can. Expect an orgasm of creativity all over this blog in the near future.

To be honest, I'm a bit nervous about this particular post. It has a lot to live up to since my rollercoaster-loving friend (we'll call him Gerald) has been anxiously waiting for me to write it for the past three days. I just don't know if I'm up for the challenge. I know none of you care about my feelings though, so I'll move on.

I went out to the Sandusky area with a few of my close friends that I've known for years (for the sake of the story, we'll call them Julie, Cindy, and Zack). On Saturday, we spent the day at Cedar Point, America's Roller Coast. In an effort to satisfy Gerald, I am going to relive my thrilling CP experience through a top ten list.

Top Ten Good/Bad Events From This Past Saturday's Trip To Cedar Point

1. The Maverick
Being the only one in the group to have previously experienced the best roller coaster ever, I made sure everyone knew how incredible this ride truly was. "I don't know if this ride will live up to all this hype you're giving it Dan," they threw back in my face. I didn't waver. I had total confidence that each and every one of them would leave the ride with a new perspective on life. I continued to talk it up. Then, the unthinkable happened.

The ride broke.

Unbelievable. My best friends in the whole world were not going to enjoy the most electrifying ride in amusement park entertainment (WWF The Rock reference anyone?). We would have to come back later. And that is exactly what we did. Seeing as this was the second time we would have to wait in line, my confidence dropped a bit about their ride enjoyment. Could it possibly be worth waiting in line twice just to ride it once? I was scared, but I refused to show it. I talked it up even more, hoping for the best. So, was I right?

Of course I was. Stupid question.

2. Bird Poop
Yes, bird poop makes the top ten list. As I was exiting a ride, in slow motion, a giant gob of something landed on my head (picture it falling on my head really slow for an added effect). I touched the spot where it landed to see what it was and pulled out a handful of a strange, brown substance. I looked up to see the biggest bird in my life. This thing was probably twice the size of the average ostrich. To add insult to injury, it was after getting off the Corkscrew, a joke of a coaster. Unable to actually see what was in my hair, I grab a napkin and have Cindy get it out for me. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I'm much taller than Cindy, so I was on my knees as she played with my hair in front of the entire park.

I wiped my hair furiously for the next half hour after getting off the ride before we headed off to #3 on my list. To add even more insult to even more injury, I couldn't shower until I got home on Sunday. With that being said, you are welcome to judge all you want. I deserve it.

3. Top Thrill
Our group shrinks as Cindy chickens out. Some just can't handle the intensity. The rest of us know how to have fun. We walked past this ride about ten times throughout the day. We had a pretty roundabout way to get to everything. Every time it shoots off, we would stare in awe of it's incredible power (that's what she said). But now, it was time to ride (she also said that).

Surprisingly, the line was short. A sub 1 hour wait for a ride that is usually 2+.

It was my turn to get in. We get up to the light and wait for take-off. I am clutching the handle on my harness with all my life, knowing I will die in about 15 seconds.

We take off. Through the shrill, deafening screams of Julie I am able to hear the car race up to 120 mph. After collecting myself, I realize we are already 400+ feet in the air, about to come crashing back down to the earth. To my relief, we reach the end of the ride safely. I cry for a little bit before we move on.

4. Losing Feet on the Millenium Force
This was an interesting conversation we had while in line for the ride. Cindy was deathly afraid of riding; however, she was only allowed to opt out of one ride the entire day, and she chose Top Thrill. To calm her nerves a bit, Julie tried to assure her that everything will be fine, that no one has actually died from riding a roller coaster. I had some sad news for her.

I brought up the accident that occurred a couple years ago that involved a girl and losing her feet. I'll leave out the rest of the details. It must have been their lucky day however, because I completely forgot about the incident at Six Flags Over Georgia. If I would have brought that one up, we probably would not have rode the Millenium that day.

We get up to the front of the line, and it breaks. For some reason we couldn't get in a line without a ride breaking down. I was beginning to get a little anxious with all the talk about losing feet after the ride broke though. To make things even better, we were the first ones to ride the broken train. Sweet.

Long story short, everything was fine and we enjoyed the ride.

5. Panda Express
Dinner time. We finish our adventure on the Millenium and head over to the nearby Panda Express. Nothing unusual about the food, but the cups only came in one size: bucket. These cups were roughly three times the size of my head and also three times more expensive than anyone would pay to hang out with me for a day. I was able to finish about 1/4th of it before having to throw it away. I didn't realize they only had Panda-sized softdrinks at Panda Express.

I changed my mind. A list to ten would be way too long. Five is a good stopping point.

Next stop: King's Island
Next stop after that: Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey

Let me know if you want to go.

Corporate Bigshot

As you may have noticed, I recently sold out to the man. Which man? The G-man. Explanation: I put Google Ads on my blog in an effort to make bank on it. Man, oh man has it been working. I never realized how much money can be made as a blogger. I should have thought of this years ago.

The ads in the right sidebar change based on what my blog is about. The ads have definitely shown how random my blog really is. There are toothbrush ads mixed in with alpaca promotions right now, so if your alpaca has dirty teeth, you have come to the right blog.

Now, I'm probably not going to run off and become a multi-million dollar blogger any time soon. Google keeps track of how much money I make right on my Blogger dashboard. Currently, I am pushing a grand total of 4 cents in two weeks. Pretty soon I'll be able to afford a postage stamp of my very own! Perfect for when I need to mail myself a postcard from Alaska.

At this rate, I am most likely going to drop out of college and become the CEO of SpicyBlogSauce Entertainment, Inc. Once I fill out the paperwork to make my blog its own corporate entity, I should be good to go. Anyone want to own some shares of Spicy Blog Sauce?

I don't know what any of the stats mean, other than that last one. That's right, I have one HUGE paycheck coming my way!

I figured since I will be making a huge fortune in the near future, I would give you a look into a day in the life of yours truly five years from now.

*Screen fades to black then returns, but a bit blurrier than before, representing a flash forward like in 90's sitcoms.*

My day begins quite normally. I awake from my slumber in my double king-sized bed surrounded by 20 of the most beautiful women God has ever created (chicks dig bloggers). I have my servants, Reginald and Applebum (yes, that is his actual name), cook me a breakfast consisting of two scrambled eggs with cheese, cinnamon toast, Apple Jacks with 2% milk, and orange juice with no pulp. I hate pulp. It's a dumb looking word too.  I take a bite out of my toast, dump the eggs on the floor and have Applebum eat them off of it, throw the Apple Jacks out the window because I can, and drink the orange juice with no pulp. All part of this complete breakfast.

It is now noon. I have been awake for roughly a half hour. Time to go to a long day of work. I have Applebum carry me piggyback style to my workstation three floors below. I make him take the stairs because I still can't stand elevators after that fateful day in Miriam Hall. Upon arrival, I sit down and start cranking away at a new blog entry on my decked out, 2005 Tangent Laptop PC complete with broken hinges and a busted fan (Why I haven't upgraded my computer five years from now is beyond me). After about fifteen minutes of writing I get bored and have the top writers of the major TV networks finish my post for me.

The clock strikes two. Oh no! I am late for my lunch with Justin Timberlake, Lebron James, and Joey Gladstone from Full House! Over the past five years we have developed quite a friendship. They are going to be so mad that I'm late! I have Applebum carry me on piggyback to our lunch 20 miles away.

I arrive. We chit-chat about how funny my latest post was, Lebron's five NBA Championship rings he won with the Cavaliers, J.T.'s latest appearance on Saturday Night Live, and our favorite episodes of Full House. After lunch, we all go our separate ways, them in their fancy cars, and me on piggyback.

I get home just in time for my afternoon siesta. After a recent trip to Spain, I realized that they got something right with these mid-afternoon naps, so I incorporated it into my daily life. After my seven hour nap, I wake up to the smell of Reginald's cooking: two Philly Cheesesteak Hot Pockets straight from the microwave. I ask Reginald, "Why the hell are you making me Hot Pockets!? I'm rich you moron!"

"But they're your favorite sir," he responds in a thick Scottish accent. I scold him for thinking Hot Pockets could possibly be my favorite food. I have him set them on the floor for Applebum to eat. I go out and get some McDonalds instead. People who are lesser than me are so infuriating...

8 o'clock. Time for my nightly one-on-one Wii Tennis match with Venus Williams. I win, again, and tell her to get out of my house because she's disgracing it with her lack of tennis talent. She leaves, upset as usual. That girl has such a temper.

Afterwards, I go upstairs and think about how awesome my life is. I have Applebum eat more food off the floor (Don't worry, the floors are clean and I'm paying him incredibly well to do it). I then ride the roller coaster that leaves from my bedroom and goes out into the Disneyverse, the Disney theme park I built in my backyard. I enjoy a lovely night with all my favorite Disney characters, especially the ones from Up. The roller coaster operator, Richard from Six Flags Over Georgia, does a little dance and gives me a high five upon my return from Disneyverse. Time for bed.

*Aaaaaaaaand POOF!* Back to reality. My life in the near future is looking pretty sweet, all thanks to putting alpaca ads on my blog. I'm not exactly sure why I am such a huge jerkface in five years, but there's not much I can do about it, right? Fame and fortune come at a price.

Now to start looking for someone named Applebum...

My Emo Life

I think being emo is really cool. In fact, it's what I try to be in my spare time. Apparently wearing my black ArtStreet t-shirt isn't emo enough for some people. I'm going to have to take my efforts to the next level.

Another trait emo people share is their love of dark poetry. Lucky for me, there still isn't much for me to do at my internship. So today in the office, I turned off the lights, lit a few candles, put on some black eyeliner, and wrote this FABULOUS poem about the inner struggles of humanity. This is only my first attempt to write poetry about how much I hate my life, so bear with me.

Title: I Hate Everything

The darkness that surrounds my soul is fleeting.

Finding reason to go on can be defeating.

Finding my place here can be disconcerting.

How do I keep myself from hurting?

I hate my mom and I hate my dad,

But most of all, I hate the Cleveland Indians because they are bad.

The insignificance of what lies ahead,

Can only be redeemed by eating whole wheat bread.

My heart aches like a tree crushed by 1,000 bulldozers.

Twilight fans are a bunch of posers.
Looking for the answer, searching for the cause,

Not going to get that round of applause.

Books, pictures, and people all have a story.

There are a lot of letters in the word 'inflammatory.'

I hate to love, I hate to rhyme,

But it's a poem, so bite me.

Sadness. People are dyin.'

Thankful that my name is not Ryan.

Could they make the color of my highlighter,

Any brighter?

I sit here and ponder, then I hurled,

Wondering, why did they have two different Morgans on 'Boy Meets World'?

There is no point anymore for any sort of reaction,

"Because I can't get no satisfaction" (Rolling Stones).

I hate this world, this small abyss,

Emo 2009, what can get better than this?

If that isn't emo, I don't know what is.

The Second Annual World Alpaca Conference

The Internet is an amazing thing. Without it, I would have never come across this gem:

That's right, the Second Annual World Alpaca Conference is this June 3-7 in Cleveland, Ohio. To think, I almost missed this spectacular event. Lucky for me, I downloaded an application on my iPod Touch yesterday that led me to the event of the century.

The Alpaca Breeders and Owners Association (AOBA) (Yes, there is an actual alpaca association. Makes life worth living, doesn't it?) is holding the conference at the nearby I-X Center. You are not going to want to miss it. There will be an International Fleece Show, a National Halter Show, a Fiber Arts Competition, AN ALPACA FASHION SHOW, and the annual AOBA auction! I don't know what half that stuff is, but it sounds like I shouldn't miss it. As Alpaca Farmgirl so beautifully put it on her Alpaca blog (Her Blog), "It's like Disney World for Alpaca lovers!" I don't know about you, but anything that can be compared to Disney World is going to be nothing but amazing. I am so there. The only question is, who's coming with me!?

Unfortunately, the AOBA's website is currently down due to technical difficulties, so I could not learn more about this fluffy creature. Apparently they make good models since they're going to be in a fashion show.

Every time I look at that Alpaca picture above, I LOL. Here are some more:

Actual caption underneath the baby alpaca picture: "This baby alpaca was found beheaded on a farm near Delavan. Rewards totaling $3,000 are now being offered."

That last one is kind of sad.

McDonald's Is My Heaven

The Cavs lost last night, so I am blogging to ease the pain.

The most important part of any UD student's day is 3am McDonald's breakfast. It's the best way to kick start your morning and get you heading in the right direction. After a good 3am breakfast, I am ready to take on the world. However, I usually just go home and hit the sack, but that's irrelevant.

Towards the end of this past school year, Jordan and I went to the McDonald's located in downtown Dayton. I was ecstatic to find an 8 1/2" x 11" piece of paper saying that they will be open 24 hours starting in May. Normally, my 3am McDonald's journeys would take place way down on Wilmington, but now there is one much closer to school. Hooray!

As I'm sure all of you know, this means I will be going to 3am breakfast just about every day. Probably the healthiest decision I have made in a loooong time. How I adore the sausage, egg, and cheese McGriddle. Mmmmmm, once the syrupy, meaty combination hits my taste buds, I am in heaven. If you are going to be around UD next year, you are more than welcome to join.

On an unrelated note, this made me LOL the other day. Hopefully it will do the same for you. This is a scanned copy of a quiz my little brother took not too long ago. A normal quiz about Earth Day, but one of his answers cracked me up. The answer is to #9, which I have circled. It's a little hard to read so you may have to squint a little.

Hope ya'll had a good weekend. Tomorrow begins June, which can only mean one thing: May is almost over.

Also, if you are actually interested in sending my postcard, my address is,

Daniel J Laycock (The "J" stands for "Just So Awesome!")

564 E. 211TH ST.

Euclid, OH 44119

I appreciate any help I can get!

My New Goal in Life

I decided on the bus ride home today that I have a new goal in life. I guess it is more of a hobby than a life aspiration, but if I die without accomplishing this I will not have lived a full life. My goal is to get a postcard from every state in the United States and every country in the world (if I finish this before I die I'll extend it to every planet in the solar system).

Currently, I have 0 postcards. Here is what remains:

Countries

Afghanistan

Albania  

Algeria  

Andorra  

Angola  

Antigua and Barbuda  

Antartica*

Argentina  

Armenia  

Australia  

Austria  

Azerbaijan 

Bahamas, The  

Bahrain  

Bangladesh  

Barbados  

Belarus  

Belgium  

Belize  

Benin  

Bhutan  

Bolivia  

Bosnia and Herzegovina  

Botswana  

Brazil  

Brunei Darussalam  

Bulgaria  

Burkina Faso  

Burma  

Burundi 

Cambodia  

Cameroon  

Canada  

Cape Verde  

Central African Republic  

Chad  

Chile  

China*

Colombia  

Comoros  

Congo (Brazzaville)  

Congo (Kinshasa)  

Costa Rica  

Cote d'Ivoire  

Croatia  

Cuba  

Cyprus  

Czech Republic 

Denmark  

Djibouti*

Dominica  

Dominican Republic 

East Timor (see Timor-Leste) 

Ecuador  

Egypt  

El Salvador  

Equatorial Guinea  

Eritrea  

Estonia  

Ethiopia 

Fiji  

Finland  

France*

Gabon  

Gambia, The  

Georgia  

Germany  

Ghana  

Greece  

Grenada  

Guatemala  

Guinea  

Guinea-Bissau  

Guyana

Haiti 

Holy See  

Honduras  

Hong Kong  

Hungary 

Iceland  

India  

Indonesia  

Iran  

Iraq  

Ireland  

Israel  

Italy 

Jamaica  

Japan 

Jordan* 

Kazakhstan  

Kenya  

Kiribati  

Korea, North  

Korea, South 

Kosovo  

Kuwait  

Kyrgyzstan 

Laos  

Latvia  

Lebanon  

Lesotho  

Liberia  

Libya  

Liechtenstein  

Lithuania  

Luxembourg 

Macau  

Macedonia  

Madagascar  

Malawi  

Malaysia  

Maldives 

Mali  

Malta  

Marshall Islands  

Mauritania  

Mauritius  

Mexico  

Micronesia*  

Moldova  

Monaco  

Mongolia 

Montenegro 

Morocco  

Mozambique 

Namibia  

Nauru  

Nepal  

Netherlands

Netherlands Antilles  

New Zealand  

Nicaragua  

Niger  

Nigeria    

Norway 

Oman*

Pakistan  

Palau  

Palestinian Territories  

Panama  

Papua New Guinea  

Paraguay  

Peru  

Philippines  

Poland  

Portugal

Qatar 

Romania  

Russia  

Rwanda 

Saint Kitts and Nevis  

Saint Lucia  

Saint Vincent and the Grenadines  

Samoa  

San Marino  

Sao Tome and Principe  

Saudi Arabia  

Senegal  

Serbia  

Seychelles  

Sierra Leone  

Singapore  

Slovakia  

Slovenia  

Solomon Islands  

Somalia  

South Africa  

Spain  

Sri Lanka  

Sudan  

Suriname  

Swaziland  

Sweden  

Switzerland  

Syria 

Taiwan  

Tajikistan  

Tanzania  

Thailand 

Timor-Leste  

Togo  

Tonga  

Trinidad and Tobago  

Tunisia  

Turkey  

Turkmenistan  

Tuvalu 

Uganda 

Ukraine 

United Arab Emirates 

United Kingdom  

Uruguay  

Uzbekistan 

Vanuatu  

Venezuela  

Vietnam 

Yemen 

Zambia

Zimbabwe

States

Alabama 

Alaska
Arizona 

Arkansas 

California 

Colorado 

Connecticut 

Delaware 

Disney World*

District of Columbia*       

Florida

Georgia 

Hawaii 

Idaho 

Illinois 

Indiana 

Iowa 

Kansas 

Kentucky 

Louisiana 

Maine 

Maryland 

Massachusetts*

Michigan 

Minnesota 

Mississippi 

Missouri 

Montana*

Nebraska 

Nevada 

New Hampshire 

New Jersey 

New Mexico 

New York 

North Carolina 

North Dakota 

Ohio* 

Oklahoma 

Oregon 

Pennsylvania 

Rhode Island 

South Carolina 

South Dakota 

Tennessee 

Texas 

Utah 

Vermont 

Virginia 

Washington 

West Virginia 

Wisconsin 

Wyoming

If you are going to be in any of the above mentioned places some point in your life, feel free to help. If you want my address, there are many different means to contact me. 

Of course, there are some exceptions to collecting postcards from all of the countries. If you plan on helping, please make sure to take note of the following. There is an asterisk for each state/country there is a stipulation for, and a brief explanation below.

*Antartica: If you are actually going to travel here, send me a penguin instead.

*China: I want it written by a sweatshop kid under the age of 10

*Djibouti: Please spell it Dji booty.

*France: Ever since finding out I could possibly be 1/8th French, I've wanted to amputate 1/8th of my body to get rid of it. Please do not send me a postcard from France, I will not accept it.

*Jordan: You can only send me a postcard from here if your name is Jordan.

*Micronesia: I want a really small postcard from here.

*Oman: Please write, "Oh man" somewhere on the postcard.

*Disney World: I want a separate postcard from Disney World so I'm considering it a state.

*District of Colombia: Not technically a state, but they get their own electoral votes, so I threw it in there.

*Massachusetts: I hate Boston.

*Montana: Since I'm pretty sure this state does not actually exist, I am not counting it towards my goal.

*Ohio: Only those who reside outside of the state can send me a postcard from Ohio.

*Texas: I want a really big postcard from here since "Everything's bigger in Texas." If there aren't any big postcards in the state, Texas lied.