I found my glasses and other tales

I had a yard sale yesterday.
It's ok if you didn't come, It just means you weren't really invited.
Just a private affair for my neighbors and the one lady who was a yard sale professional.
The sale didn't start until 9am. She was there at 8:30am
That is a half of an hour before for those who are not down with start times.
Which she was not.
But I have things to tell you about before the lady. We will revisit her later.

The night before the sale, I was closing The Beat. Our Coffeehouse closes at 11pm, and at about 9-ish, I finally got a hold of my landlord about having the sale in his front yard.
He was very casual about it and made it seem like it wasn't a big deal. I have been tiptoeing around him since the Twin Cities Improv Festival afterbar party in June when over 50 people came to the mansion at 2 in the morning and wanted to prove how much funnier they were than each other by being loud. When I was scolding Lisa Burton about screaming how good her burrito was (telling her that my landlord was sleeping just above her head) I turned around to be face to face with the landlord himself. He was in a bad humour. And threatened eviction.
At any rate, he was his casual self (being a Canadian) and the sale was 'Thunderbirds Go!'

I got home an pulled tables out front, set to making signs and then found stuff to sell.
The sale itself went pretty well. Getting back to the Lady from before briefly:
She came when I was running on an hour and a half of sleep.
And she had been to the sale I had last year, but was wondering if there was a girl involved this time around.
I told her yes, but the girl was still asleep and had been throwing up the night before from a 'Powerade' bender. That's what she claimed made her puke. All over the toilet. Which i cleaned up because my gag reflex is that of a 30 year old man with a nasty habit of wanting to puke when he even thinks of puke.
I don't even like the word 'puke'.
So she claimed powerade was the enemy and not the gin or whiskey or the 40's of Heinekin that have been strewn about the Mansion as of late.
'The girl is sleeping' I told the yard sale Vet.
'She might be up in a while. And also, the sale starts in a half hour. It isn't time yet. Try back later in the morning.

She came back at 9.

The girl roommate was still asleep. (and didn't even put anything out in the sale. not even the golf clubs that have been in the hallway since May. Which she said she wanted to sell in May. Just sayin')

I told the Pro Lady 'I don't think this is the right sale for you this year'

And then she put a gypsy curse on me, because no one bought even ONE of my mint in package Batman action figures. Not one.
And so, I have resigned myself to owning all of them. I will be putting them up on the wall in my bedroom later today.

So ends the Yard Sale Story. You have been a good listener. And now we have snacks.

Today I am going home and prepping for the Arrival of Amanda. She gets in via Magabus in the early AM. And my house is a wreck. This will not do.
So instead of finishing the adventure play about my hat and the criminals who end up dying in a fire, I will wish you a great day and I hope you come to tomorrow night's Monday Night Comedy Show, where I will be performing with MIME RIFLE and looking forward to seeing you.
And don't worry, I might finish the play tomorrow or something.

Promises, Promises....

Stay Awesome and all that elven trickery.

Andy

It's what pops into my head when nothing pops into my head.

I do apologize for last night's blog and how heavy it was. Sometimes I just get a little bothered by bullshit. Much like you. We aren't so different, you and I.

In much happier news, my fedora has been found!
Metro Transit told me when i called them today that it was in the lost and found over in their offices in the warehouse district.
When I lost it yesterday it had a Monday Night Comedy Show pin and a viking head pin. Not the kind that supports my local football team, but rather the kind that raped and pillaged back in the day and really discovered North America. I used it as a 'Producer' Pin for the show. Very few people have similar pins. Mine was gold-looking-type-product plated and probably cost a little under a quarter to make. I wear it as a symbol of how much work I put into the Monday Night Comedy show and how much Raping and Pillaging goes into each weekly show.
Just kidding about the Raping, I feel I should follow that with some clever joke, but really: Rape is wrong. Stop doing it, Frat Boys.
So I used the pins on the hat to prove that it was mine, even though the lady on the phone said that they didn't get many fedoras in the Lost and Found. I suppose Twin City residents are either not classy enough to pull of the Indiana Jones look, or they just don't leave shit like that on the bus.
Well I do. And I wasn't even holding a gold bust of an Aztec God when i was escaping the bus. Really, i was just talking on the cellular telephone device and trying to get my bike off the rack before the angry bus riders shot poison tipped arrows at me because I was delaying their trip to Downtown St. Paul to see if any RNC folks dropped any quarters. Or they wanted to look into the Ark and have their faced melted off by demons or Angels or Nazi-Demon Angels. What the hell was that stuff that killed the bad guys in Raiders?
I feel my Indiana Jones reference has been lost in the ether that is this blog.

Anyhow, the MNCS pin was still on it, but the gold-like Viking pin was taken by a thief who doesn't understand the concept of decorative jewelry. On hats. Hats that no one really wears anymore unless they play Christian folk pop or they are trying to look like a childhood hero for the rest of their lives.
I hope the person who has the pin now was trying to sell it to a pawn broker. Which gives me an idea for another little play:

Criminal: My God! It is the finest pin I have ever laid eyes on in my long career as a bus riding misanthrope!
Henchman: But boss, how we gonna fence that? It's attached to a fedora hat. The kind the feds wear!
Criminal: Quiet, Patsy, I'm thinking. Perhaps I will take it off the hat. No one will be the wiser.
In fact, i will even give the hat to the driver for him to put into the Metro Transit lost and found!
Henchman: That's why your the Boss, Boss!
Criminal: You misspelled 'You're' Patsy. There is an apostrophe in there.
Henchman: Sorry.
Criminal: No time! This caper is going to make me rich. And we are fast approaching Rice Street.
Henchman: Are we still going to Sears for new pants?
Criminal: AND we will have to pick up rubbermaid totes out the wazoo to haul out all the money this little gold viking pin will earn at the local pawn shoppe!
Henchman: Yarr!
Criminal: Mister Driver, someone has left this fedora hat. You shall put it into the lost and found.
Please notice that nothing is missing from the hat. And I would like to stop at Rice Street.
Driver: Okay, but we can't go below 55 miles per hour or we will blow up.
Criminal/Henchman: WHAT?!
Driver: Just kidding. Lets all go to Sears!

I might finish this small play later tonight. It's just that I am hungry and want to go buy food at the store.

ok.

Bye.

Stay Awesome or I'll scream.

Andy

I'm not even drunk, but I will rant the night away.

There are some nights where I end up angry. Or Annoyed. Or Something.
not at anyone in particular, but rather a group of people that represent a large percentage of a whole. Or a whole that has a large percent inside it. Much like a fruity filling inside one of my beloved snacky pies.
Of which I had none of, as I am trying to watch my girlish figure.
When I speak of groups or individuals or you or me,
I speak in vague terms so as to not point fingers and have to play a boisterous game of 'I was just kidding'
I want to live in a world where people can walk out into the courtyard of their respective community and actually enjoy the company of those around them. The ones that do not care if I am the most witty or the one with the best long flowing locks of hair that is the colour of the sun.
And by 'Sun' I mean the one that used to illuminate the lost city of Aztec gold. I want to feel a part of something bigger and more important than the one. I want to be as important as the many. Does that make sense? Think of it in terms of Star Trek when Kirk needs to risk the futures of everyone to save just little old Spock. Now, If I was an admiral in starfleet, and my best friend might be alive, but my job said I couldn't go get him because of some bullshit, I would punch my commanding officer with some brass knuckles and never say never again.
See, I want all of my friends to think that about me. Or be willing to be that for me.
I want them to be the Kirk to my Spock.
The Yin to my overly sensitive "man of Deep feeling" Yang.
And I want them to know that they are my Spocks as well. I would blow up a starship for any one of you guys. And if you still don't get the reference, just know that sometime the good of the one outweighs the good of the many. Illogical, I know, but sometimes you just gotta watch Star Trek 4 to have things make any sense.
I want my friends to not have to feel they should perform and not feel the need to be funnier than they were the night before last. If I think you are funny, I tell you. And I keep coming back for more.
I don't care about where you are going tomorrow or how early you have to be somewhere, so you have to cut this conversation short. A brief hug or a limp handshake does not make me crave your company.
I want you to look me in the eye just enough to keep me comfortable. Do I fear that you are challenging me? If so, you stare into my baby blues with hints of gray and green too much. We are not Baboons. I do not wish to fight you. I get that you need to make your dominance known to all. But back off, Man. I'm a scientist.
Basically, I want to be somewhere that I am not deemed as a bitter asshole who got slighted once and has never forgiven. I am not out to 'get you'. I am not going to fuck you over if you fucked me over once. No matter what the papers may say. I will still want to drink with you tomorrow and the next day, and if I move away, i will still look at your facebook or myspace profile every once and a while to make sure you are ok. Or to see if your birthday is coming up because I suck with dates.
And if I look at you without a real expression on my face, it isn't because I am mad, It's because I am all out of give a shits. But tomorrow may be different, and that is why you keep me around. At arms length.
And I'm fine, because I know an Archaeologist and countless others who thinks I am rad. Even on off days.

And today was a kind of an off day*. I lost my fedora on a city bus. Drag, huh?

At any rate, just be your fucking self from now on and don't care what people talk about in their blogs or in the lobby or at the bar or in any place where the population is carbon based. There are only three judges in American Idol, and not one of them are the people you hang out with. So stop performing. Your friends won't make you a star. They will however make you better.
It make sense to me, anyway.

And if Star Trek 4 references weren't enough, see if you can dig this one:

'Be Excellent to each other'

As always, Stay Awesome.

Andy

* But I did have a really good phone conversation.

These truths are self evident.

My Banana has a donald duck sticker on it.
I don't know why.
I have started to call Hostess Fruit Pies 'Snacky Pies'
Again, I don't know why except for the fact that they have never disappointed me. Not once. And so, they get a special name. Unique to me.
The pastries were not ready upon pickup today. I only tell you this because they just arrived.
And when the girl came in with the boxes, she scared the everloving shit out of me. I might have been a little embarrassed since just before she came in, I was trying to recite the preamble to the Declaration of Independence... Outloud. In a British Accent, because a lot of people don't think that the first Americans used to be British.
That doesn't mean it's not strange that I was trying to remember something I was forced to memorize in 5th Grade. Again, outloud. In an Accent. In a coffeehouse. Alone.
It just means I'm crazy. Crazy smart!
The scary lady from the Mortgage place across the street just came in and asked for Sugar Free Carmel syrup. I'll get back to the Syrup, but when I say 'Scary' I mean really sad and frazzled. All the time. She is always stressed, and never says she is having a good day. It's always something with her.
For example:
Me: Hi there. Hows it going?
Lady: I'm about to murder everyone in my office. Unless I get coffee. A big assed Venti one.
Me: You speak in terms of Starbucks, a language I do not speak. However, i do understand what 'Big Assed' means. So do need room for cream?
Lady: You are new here.
Me: I have worked here since December.
Lady: I don't see you.
Me: I am a shadow.
Lady: I don't talk to people all weekend. My Ex husband was a musician.
Me: Do you see me now? Who are you talking to?
Lady: Coconuts are natures laxative.
Me: The coffee comes to $2.13 after tax. If I could fly, I would only do it at night so the government wouldn't get me.
Lady: What?
Me: I thought we were playing the 'Say random shit' game. I feel we both won.
Lady: I'm almost 40.
Me: I am terrified of whales.
Lady: Most days I feel I am swirling in a vortex of nothingness, trying in vain to see the beauty of a butterfly.
Me: I call Hostess fruit pies 'snacky pies'.
Lady: Here is your blood money, Doctor. Keep the change.
Me: The change is 13 cents.
Lady: And your welcome for it.
(She then leaves, and I think about looking up the actual Preamble to the Declaration of Independence. But I don't.)

So today she asks for the sugar free Carmel syrup and I tell her we don't have any. Just Sugar Free Vanilla.
She has a mild fit, and tells me that half of us do, half of us don't.
I don't understand for a moment, and I pause, looking at her like a confused German Shepherd.
Then I process what she said and try to make her happy. Which I do, but remember, she is miserable all the time.
I forget where I was going with this story, but at least I wrote a little play.

Snacky Pie!

Ok, seriously, people: Carry cash with you. Like ten dollars at a time. That way, you don't have to use your ATM card for a can of coke. That is all.

In case you are interested:
When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

I love it when you read a blog and you end up learning. However, I did cut and paste this earlier in the blog for you to read later. This is what I was saying outloud before the pastry girl from Isle Bun & Coffee came by:

Andy: (In a British Accent)- In the course of Human history, it is important for people to stop the Political Bands that make them totally cool with each other, and assume that the powers that be, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of God entitle them, a pretty good respect to the opinions of guys like you and I Something something. Meow meow. Terribly important bits about things and such.
We hold these truths to be self evident that everybody is awesome in their own way and they should stop being dicks to each other because we are all the same, and we all deserve to live, be free and chase down happiness and have a good time. America.

ok then. Come to The Monday Night Comedy Show tonight. It should be good. Apparently it is a robot themed show. I'm not sure what that means, but I hope it brings people in.
Doors open at 7:30pm for an 8:00pm show.
$3 for Stand up and Improv.
If you want to read the RoboCop II page, please message me and show up at 7:30pm First come, first served.

Stay Awesome or I'll recite what I remember from a monologue I memorized in 1995. And it isn't pretty. I'm old.
Have a day.
Andy

ps- start commenting on this stuff. I need to feel read.

Sold to the idiot wearing the fedora...

Greetings and Salutations, my darlings of the Interweb.
I hope this finds you well.

I am suffering from some serious allergic reactions to the Planet Earth today.
It seems I cannot go for about 15 minutes without having a fit of the sneezes. And in those fits, i enjoy at least 15 sneezes each. That is one sneeze for every minute I wait for them to come.
Not to be confused with Sneetches, which I would rather write about. They may or may not have stars on their bellies. But my sneezes have no stars upon thars. Only 'Jesus Christ, these fucking hurt, please kill me' Written in big bold red letters. That glow in the dark. And are made of pain and evil. And Also, I hate sneezing.
But meanwhile, in the Hall of Justice, where Batman and Green Lantern are Playing a rousing game of Apples to Apples...

I went to a Police Auction yesterday.
I had never been to an auction before, and I thought I could bid on some confiscated laptops or old murder weapons.
While there were many knives and other tools of mayhem, I saw no laptops. It was so strange, i really suggest you go to one of the auctions if you are bored and want to people watch.
There were the occasional first generation ipods with no cords or software and there were digital cameras that were lacking the same. But there were also brand new toddler clothes and shirts that had random company logos on them. And golf club bags with only half the needed clubs to complete 18 holes. I assume they have 18 holes. All I know about golf I learned from 'Tin Cup' and 'Happy Gilmore' At any rate, the guy who bought the incomplete golf clubs paid almost $400 dollars for them.
And he also won the toddler clothes... I'm not kidding.
There were some exciting moments in the bidding where some people were trying to win a big tupperware box full of random crap. However, once the Axe and Hatchet Lot came up for bidding, I knew this was my chance to bid on something ridiculous. The Bidding started at $25 and then dropped down to $10. Still no takers.
But when it went to $5, I got what I call 'The Auction Fever'
I raised my number card high into the air, making the people I went with(John, Chris, Aimee, Lindsey and Mike) laugh at me.
What did I need with an Axe and a Hatchet?
I didn't. But I did have $5 to spend on them, and I wasn't going to leave an auction without something I could hold high above my head and yell 'VICTORY!!!!'
Then the bidding war to end all wars began.
Some douchebag wanted my Axe and Hatchet. The bidding went up $2.
That Motherfucker was not going to win.
$7 now? Fine, I went up to $9.
How bad do you want something when some asshat challenges you?
He countered another $2
The auctioneer guy was dividing his attention between us. The room was freaking out with all the electricity.
Did the Axe kill a family of five?
Was the Hatchet used to break a window in some warehouse during an industrial espionage raid?
All I knew was that I needed to own those two items that were duct taped together and didnt even come with a sharpening stone or sheaths.
I raised my card up high when it go to $13.
And If it were possible to shoot some sort of ball of tangible energy at the guy who thought he could beat me, I would have sent him flying into an abyss and lightning and thunder would be the orchestral soundtrack to my Auction Victory!
$13 and some sales tax later, I am the proud owner of 'Battle' and 'Molly'
Some may think that I will be starting that log cabin up North soon with my tools of the Northwoods. Or that I am going to begin a relentless killing spree that will send the Axe and Hatchet back to the evidence locker, only to be auctioned off again after the blood has been washed off.
Those scenarios are half true.
I will be going to the Northwoods. But I will be killing Bears with them.
So goodbye, Minneapolis. I am now a Bear hunter. I bid you good day.

Seriously, though. I have an Axe and a Hatchet. My empire will know no bounds.

Lindsey and Chris were the only others who bid on anything.
Chris got a couple boxes of comic books, and Linds got a Palm Pilot that may not work.
I feel that I really won the day.
I will post a picture up of my prizes later.

Today, Chris and I drove around the lakes and found ourselves at a garage sale.
I didnt have any cash on me, as Chris locked the front door when i was sitting on the porch and said "Come on. Let's go." Where are we going? "Around the lakes in search of adventure!"
How could I say no?
I did borrow two bucks from him and bought a disco ball for all those sexy dance parties I have in my room. I did almost set the disco ball down and grab a book about The Tower of London, but I have three of those already, and sexy dances are better Winter entertainment.

What did you do today? Or rather, what are you doing tonight? I hope you can see me dancing in my room, swinging my Axe and Hatchet wildly around my head, hoping that a Bear has the bad luck to try and interrupt me.

I will leave you with that visual.

Stay Awesome or I will 'forget' to wear 'Pants' during my sexy dance party...
Andy

Really? You waited to go to sleep for THIS?!

I am miles and miles away from being where I need to be, but tonight I am giving my team of scientists the night off from their work on the teleportation machine. they have been doing 12 hours shifts, 52 weeks out of the year. They are no closer to developing the needed technology now than they were in 1998 when I set them the task. However, they are hard workers and need to see their families.

There is no concept of weekends anymore! (Props to whoever gets that reference. Hint: Spalding Gray)

And so I lament the fact I am here. In my room at four in the AM. Eating re-heated spaghetti and wondering what I am doing with my life.
And I am also wondering what disc of Highlander: The Series I should watch. I know, I know. You think I should watch all of them. Even the ones with Ritchie. I tell you no. Not a chance. Even the most die hard fan worth his or her salt would skip over those and prefer to watch old episodes of 'Friends'. Sadly, I don't have any of those. just a complete series of a show about immortal swordsman.
It isn't a bad life, I lead, but it is a life without teleportation.
If I had my choice, I would be in the rainy and drizzle (snoop dogg!) infested Eastern Michigan area dreaming about future conquests and names for as yet born twins with jedi powers and the ability to throw knives at moving targets.

But this spaghetti is so delicious. Though I just burnt the roof of my mouth and am cursing science for not creating a safe way to enjoy it direct from the microwave without 'letting it sit' for two minutes.
And I am reveling in my use of the run on sentence. Go me.

Speaking of knife throwing, I picked up a couple of batarangs a few months ago and was going to add them to my ever growing collection of things that are made of metal and stick into slabs of wood. I say 'was' because I ended up just sitting them on a shelf and forgot about them until tonight when i was talking to Amanda and trying desperately hard to impress the fact that I have many qualities, and not just speaking in a fast paced mode not unlike The Gilmore Girls.
I failed in my eyes, but maybe I could win in the long run. More on that in another blog.
So I have two metal objects that are in the shape of a bat symbol. Very sharp on the two ends and most agreeable to the eye. If your eye was keen on the shape of a bat. And by 'bat' I mean The symbol on the chest of the Man himself. And by 'The Man himself' I mean, well, you know what I mean...
Which these are.
And I was trying to be cool with no one but my cat in the room, and I was twirling them around my fingers as best I could with these strange meathooks I call hands. I might have said: 'Well, Well, Riddler. It seems I have bested you once again.' (note that i also might have said it in a British accent, and I know Batman doesn't speak like that. Accent or no. I might have been invoking The Blue Raja from 'Mystery Men' But I was using Batarangs, so all is forgiven.

The short version is: I dropped one on my floor. And it stuck. Deep into the hardwood.
And though I was alone in my room, save for my cat, who is not a stranger to irony or my strange behavior, I looked at the batarang and said: "Don't fuck with the Lords of Hell"
I paused, smirking in the cleverness that only those who are very eccentric an/or alone can relish, And then I dropped the other Batarang on the floor (it stuck as well) and then I said (also out loud): "Don't fuck with the babysitter"
And I know that isn't how it all went down in the movie, but I am my own person, and am allowed some creative license. No matter how odd.
I also realized several things about myself:

1) I don't care if I lose the security deposit on the apartment. My landlord is a dick, and I can say that those Batarang marks were on the floor when I moved in.
2) Being able to say: 'Those Batarang marks were on the floor when I moved in' is priceless.
3) I need to stop trying to entertain my cat.
4) I own not one, but SEVERAL pairs of batarangs.
5) I like to party. Adventures in Babysitting style. You guys get that that was from Adventures in Babysitting, right? If not, you shouldn't be reading my blog.
6) I am not going to get my security deposit back.


So I bid you goodnight, or good morning as the case may be. Remember that tomorrow is another day you might just get that revenge on the system that pissed you off.
And also, I own motherfucking BATARANGS, and I will let you see them if you ask.

Sometimes being Andy Brynildson is funner than say: Anything ever in all the world. And all the other times it's just like being you, only with great hair* and Batarangs.

Stay Awesome, because you know I will.

Andy


Ps- I visited my Mom today, and she saw my new tattoo. Amy, my sister, thought it was cool and took a picture of it with her phone. My Mom rolled her eyes and said that at least I didn't have my ears pierced. (note that I have had my left ear pierced since 1997 when i went with Mark Adams to Calires boutique and had it done in some sort of male bonding ritual. A fact that my Mom has known and has wondered if I am gay ever since.

PPS- I am not gay, but I do own Batarangs and speak in British accents in the audience of my cat.

PPSx2- Why do you read this blog anyway?

*It is the only thing I have going for me. Please understand that.

My gift is my song. And this one's for you.

Since I don't like lying to you, gentle reader, i am going to be upfront and honest to you.
Starting with this sentence:

I am super duper affected by the magical powers of whiskey and Diet Coke.
The Gypsy curse that the two have upon me are a most potent and cruel mistress that I will never again underestimate. I suggest you feel the same way.

On side note, while I am very inebriated and unable to operate heavy machinery, I am overly conscious of my spelling and Grammar. Hence, I am using the spell-check more than three times per sentence. However, it does not prevent the occasional- Der Der Der. I typed that giggling loudly, hoping that it would wake up my neighbors and I would be given the opportunity to shout: 'If it's too loud, you're too old!'

Sadly, I did not wake up the neighbors in the style of Brian Adams. But if I do anything, I do it for you. Never forget this, dear Blog reader. I have such a thing for you that I just don't know how to express it. (this was me flirting with you)

So tonight I went to a thing called LOL. I would usually poo poo this title because I think Text message or Instant message 'Slang' should be left to the dead or dying of society.
This evening will be the exception.
birthed from the womb of the brain of Greg 'The Dez' Hernandez, LOL is a Stand up comedy Show of epic proportions.
Not to be misunderstood, LOL asks you to jump, and your first reaction is ' How high?'
It is a good show, and a welcome face to the senior photos that is Minneapolis Comedy Shows.
And if you asked nicely, I am sure LOL would stand next to a Bale of hay or a wagon wheel.
Just like your senior photo.
Not mine, though. Mine was classy and made of awesome. Just ask my friends and family.
Speaking of Friends, check this hot shit out:

I am to become an uncle once more!I was told by a Sexy little bird named Amanda that Jenny will be giving birth to the official 'Andrew Jr.'
My official response was ' Oh Hell yes! An Arranged marriage!!!'
Referring to Annabeth Irene West's birth from July.
I don't know any guy who doesn't like an older woman, so My man Andrew Jr. will be knee deep in Annie-Pants by the time he is 13. By 'Knee deep' I mean that he will be respectful and kind to Annie and will buy her flowers on his own accord and never ever have to have me prompt him into being a good man to my lovely niece. Seriously. I will fuck his shit up if he is ever less than a gentleman.

Wow. I just found myself being mad at some future version of a nephew who isn't even born yet being mean to the future version of my niece who isn't even two months old. And I assumed that that they would end up being married.
And I assume that he/she will be a boy.
And I hope I will not have to re-write this blog.

I fear for the mental stability of any child I have.
But they really don't have any business being married to anyone but each other.
There I go again.
Fuck it. My word is law.

Please picture, if you will, that i am listening to the 'Moulin Rouge' Soundtrack while writing this.
very loudly. Ergo, my 'word' is not only 'law', but the most pretty of 'law'. wearing the most beautiful frock that ever was bartered from a ren-fest wench. I'm talking sequins out the wazoo, and strappy things that make your prom dress look like a burlap sack.

I think that I am going to cut this short so I can finish a letter that I need to send out to post tomorrow at the very latest.
If you take anything out of this, please let it be that I hope for nothing but the best for both my niece Annie and my nephew 'Andrew Junior' And that I like to support fledgling comedy shows. even if they are stand up shows. Even if...
(I kid because I love)

So I hope for nothing more than for a million babies to be made merely minutes after reading this blog. And that they are all named after me. Remember that Andrew means 'Strong and Manly'
And if I have anything to do with it, 'Awesome' as well.

Just a moment for shameless plugging:
The Monday Night Comedy Show will soon be a platform for the 'President of Comedy' elections. Please mark your calendars for the next two months of Monday nights, as you will be a part of history.
Your vote affects the outcome.
And if you come to the show on November 3rd, you choose your leader. No matter who protests. It was my idea first.

I'll keep you posted, don't worry.

With that, I bid you a very tipsy adieu.

Stay Awesome, or the dice will roll a plus four. And that means the high priestess Elven Sorcerer will defeat your lowly human metallurgist. How embarrassing.

Andy.

Meaningless drivel.

I feel like I should get back to writing happier little posts in this blog.
The IndyFringe took a lot of steam out of my engine that runs on steam.
Having an engine that runs on steam means that I either need massive amounts of coal or a lot of firewood. I have not ascertained if my steam engine runs on one or the other. i think it changes with my mood for the day.
Today it runs on wood.
Tomorrow may be a coal day.
I think I should avoid metaphors from now on. I tend to ramble and make little sense.

So yeah. I feel a bit out of sorts.
I feel old and without direction.
Well, not so old as to start collecting Social Security, but I'm not 17 anymore.
I was asked recently how much it would take for me to go back to being a 17 year old.
My response was: "I would rob a bank and pay you if you had that power, wizard"
I wasn't talking to a wizard. In fact, I am so old, i forget which friend was talking to me.
But I digress.
I loved being 17. It worked for me a lot.
I was baby faced and didn't hide my double chin under a goatee*.
I was almost 70 pounds lighter and I think I wore the latest fashions. I actually still wear the kinds of clothes I wore way back in the 90's. a tee shirt and a long sleeved button down.
It isn't that I am grotesquely overweight. It's just that I really should stop relying on dollar menus at fast food places.
Taco bell, you have ruined me.
And what the hell is up with the 7 layer burrito being almost $2 now?! You guys suck.
I ride my bike as a commuter vehicle. i should be skinny and hot and desirable.
Again, Taco Bell, you are a cruel bitch of a mistress.
My 17th year was great. The whole world ahead of me and I could run a mile in 10 minutes. That isn't true. I don't run. Not even when a bear is chasing me.

But if a Bear chased me into a Taco Bell, I would feel that not getting a few dollar menu burrito's would be a slam against the fates.

At any rate, I want to be 17 again. I had it made then. And I got laid all the time.
Also, not true. Not even if a Bear was chasing me.
I don't know what that means. But I was younger...

I'm trying to figure stuff out. Future stuff. And who knows, maybe I will be asking folks to move to Alaska and become fishermen or fishers of men or fisher kings or Fisher Stevens. isn't he the guy from Short Circuit and Hackers? Fuck it, let's just go bowling.
I need a better hobby than blogging. You must think me strange.
Well same to you.

Tonight at the Beat, an open mic is happening.
Spoken word, Acoustic variety and more.
I'd say that you should come, but it has taken me five hours just to post this blog with no meaning. And the open mic is almost closed now.
That means it might be happy hour soon. Somewhere...

I suppose that if you take anything away from today's post, it should be this:

Even though you can't go back to being 17, doesn't mean you can't openly hate open mic nights.
And also, Bears are cool. I like Polar bears, personally. Don't take that as me knowing them personally. i have never met a polar bear. I assume they are nice. Maybe they are all like the ones from that Compass movie. Wearing armor and talking in Olde English.
Or they kill you as you are on your way to Taco Bell.

Have a good night. I'll be back on the airwaves tomorrow. And by Airwaves, I mean the wireless interweb that makes these blogs so damned tasty.

And with no trans fat.

Stay Awesome.

Andy


* I don't have a double chin. I don't think I do, anyhow. It is hidden under the goatee, so it's anyones guess. I should exercise more. Maybe after Taco Bell...

Learn from Steve.

Really? Did you really just walk into my coffeehouse?
Your name is Steve. And you live across the street. I know this because you tell me every time.
I see that you just came from the Vietnamese place. Your take away bag is the same as mine.
Please, Steve, sit down anywhere and eat your fried rice.
No, don't bother to buy any kind of coffee drink. We are actually in business as a place for neighborhood people to come and eat their dinner.
Steve, don't say that. My fangs are not dripping with sarcasm. We really want you here, Steve. I want you here. I am your Barista, Steve. I am here to make sure you get everything you need to enjoy your fried rice just that much more. A glass of water? With the glass half full of ice?
Do you need a napkin, Steve?
Take as many as you want.
Oh. you did. Seems like an awful lot of napkins, Steve.
Did I just see you stuff some Splenda packets into your pocket? I understand. you may need them for your fried rice. I noticed that you were looking through the daily paper. We usually charge a half a dollar for those, Steve, but you go ahead and take what you want. Ah! the section with the comics and the horoscopes. Yeah, just leave the other sections. No worries. I'm a Cancer, Steve. I won't ask you to read my horoscope, but I thought you might be curious because you seem like you want to be my friend.
I bum cigarettes to all of my friends, Steve. I'm a Cancer, you see. Of course you can use my lighter.
Oh! A few more napkins? Sure, whats a handful of napkins between friends?
Darn it if you didn't just clean us out of napkins in the dispenser. I just filled that as my shift started. Isn't that funny, Steve?
I'll get you some more. Boy, Steve, that is a super nice watch you have. And look at that shiny new laptop! It's a Mac, huh? thank you for telling me that. I was thinking that Compaq changed their logo to a little apple. That looks like an expensive little gadget, Steve. More napkins? Not a problem.
What's that? You need a glass of hot water for your tea bag you brought with you?
Sure, Steve. I bet that tea bag is better than the loose leaf stuff that we have here.
What is that, lipton? Huh. I have to open a new box of napkins, Steve, you will have to give me just a minute.
Actually, I was just thinking that, Steve. I was just wondering to myself what you would possibly need with all those napkins.
Foreshadowing?
I am familiar with that, Steve. But who is foreshadowing who?
Oh, I see now, Steve. I understand what I have to do now.
All these napkins are to clean up the messy blood that is going all over the floor from where I slit your throat.
It's a good thing I opened up the other package of napkins, isn't it Steve?
Just a couple things before I dump your body in the river:
One, the daily paper cost fifty cents, Steve.
And two, look into my eyes Steve. Don't try to scream. It just makes the blood flow faster.
Steve, I think we have both learned something tonight. I think people who act the way you do when they leave the house should be thinned from the herd.
Do you like Aerosmith, Steve? 'Janie's Got a Gun' is one of my personal favourites.
Steve?


Stay Awesome, for the Dingo is coming, and your baby looks delicious.

Andy

There and back again.

The road was long.
With many a winding turns.

Jason and I pulled into minneapolis about 2am last night.
The ride was pretty uneventful.
Indiana made me really quiet because I was sad about leaving.
Illinois was long.
Wisconsin was long.
Minnesota was long because it was dark and we were wearing sunglasses.
I went right to bed after we unloaded the car. Then I slept.
I came home to find the mansion a complete disaster. If I ever see someone spitting tobacco into any of my cups, I will go berserk and crush them with my EnergyLegs. (That was for James)
And yeah, one of my roommates had a friend over that spit brown poop into a few of my glasses.
Some people's kids...

I spent the last of my money on Gas. I was hoping to have some left over to give Troy a full tank since he was good enough to lend us is car for 13 days.
Not so much. It seems that The 2008 Indianapolis Theatre fringe Festival won this round.
Low audiences and lower spirits on my part helped destroy the dream I had of being able to buy a pony and name it StarFire. One day. One glorious day...
I do have a hostess cherry pie that i forgot I had bought out of a vending machine in Illinois. It was like finding a thousand dollar bill.
Seriously, folks, if you don't find even the smallest bit of joy out of life, you are going to end up dying young.
And to top off the goodness, the vending machine cost me only a dollar. I felt I saved big money by shopping the Menards that was the vending machine on the Illinois Interstate system.

So I bought two.

Today is cleaning day. I am scrubbing and tossing stuff away in the hopes that someday I may become a real boy.

So I just wanted everyone to know that I am safe and here. I will not say sound because I don't really feel like being back in reality. So from now on I will be working towards getting back to some level of the waking dream that was Indianapolis. Specifically, my friends in the Dorchester.
I think I need to be somewhere I am constantly smiling. That sounds very healthy to me.
My next scheduled stop will be in Late October. See you guys (The Dorch Gang) then.

Have a great day, party people.

And Stay Awesome.

Andy