I talked to Courtney today. She's liking L.A., but it's tough work and she finds that she's more compatible with some co-workers than with others. Her Swedish roommate Sophia has returned to Sweden and so now she's alone in her pad until the next Swede gets there mid-June. Till then, she's alone, without anyone with whom to explore Hollywood. She's already been to Santa Barbara, though, and she's found a Starbucks already. Turns out I was right about her two bosses (they are "family") and it turns out she works with a he that was a she.

I hadn't talked to her since she was in the Vegas airport and I felt like a bad best friend for letting almost an entire week pass, but it all worked out. We were us again without skipping a beat.

Courtney: We only have the basic 5 networks out here, so last night - and you may be ashamed of me for this - I flipped between "Fame" and the rerun of the final "Dawson's Creek."
Pat: Me too!
Courtney: Ahh! Yay!
Pat: Yeah!
Courtney: Good, because I have lots of questions on that... How did Joey not end up with Dawson?!
Pat: What?! That would be like you and me ending up together! That's like Edward Norton ending up with Jenna Elfman in "Keeping The Faith"!
Courtney: But they don't!
Pat: And that's a good thing!
Courtney: But Pacey's always creeped me out.
Pat: Yeah, but that's the magic of it ending the way it did. Joey and Pacey used to annoy each other, but Joey and Dawson always got along... Kinda like you and Derek as opposed to you and me... We always clicked, whereas you and Derek had to get used to each other... But he looks more like James Van Der Beek than Joshua Jackson.
Courtney: Ha!

On the TV show last night...
Dawson: I've come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter who ends up with who, because it will always be you and me... We're soulmates. I love you, Joey.
Joey: And I love you.

And so there it goes. Even if they ended up not together romantically, and ended up on opposite coasts of the country, they still were together on the cell phone at the end. Very comforting knowing that I am on opposite ends of the country as some of my best friends...

But yeah... How goofy that Courtney and I end up watching the final "Dawson's Creek" - a show neither of us liked - and then being able to explain it in Mizzou terms... I tried to explain it to Beth and Dan at the Artisan, but we mainly ended up talking about James Van Der Beek in "Rules of Attraction" and how his character was the little brother of Christian Bale's character in "American Psycho." That of course got us talking about other topics, and well, you know...

It is quite pathetic that we had a whole conversation about it, but not as pathetic as watching "Fame" on TV... :)

A message to my loyal readers:

For months, I have worked hard and dilligently to give you the best that I can, presenting quirky anecdotes and observations. I have opened up to you about my family, my friends, my roommates, my week, my classes, the Artisan, cute people, nuclear weapons, "The Sopranos," "Will and Grace," the happenings at the Missourian and the general state of the union.

Along the way, I have tried to insert humor. I have searched for quirky material, in Columbia and on the web, in order to make you laugh and feel special.

Tonight was no different. I was on a mission to find pictures from the beloved Vicki Lawrence show, "Mama's Family," set in Raytown. Could this have been Raytown, Mo.? What a fabulous show, highlighting hoosier antics and earning the ire of my older brothers.

It was on my quest for these pictures when I saw it all. The end of the internet. The mark of the apocalypse. Get out your rosaries, Bibles and World Series pennants, folks.

A google search for "Mama's Family" lead me to lovely picture of Ms. Lawrence seen here, as well as...



These boys are apparently part of a different "Mama's Family." I found a website, http://www.mamasfamily.org, highlighting a matriarchal type in the "family community." Oooh, honey.

The third guy from the left bears a strange resemblance to Missourian sports editor Ray Murray. If you don't believe me, then just click here.

I should be accustomed to such horror by now, having seen Lurch's butt, Jake's butt, Keith's "gum chewing," porn in the presence of my mother, Kenny naked, the boys at Soco, the boys and unclassifiables at Tower Grove Park and other general ewww-ness, but oooh, I ain't even.

The things I do to please you blogheads.

"What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"
-John Cusack, "High Fidelity"

"I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection."
-Edward Norton, "Fight Club"

"Great. I'm building one of the finest collections of rejection slips in the world."
-"Three Days of the Condor"

"Well, I can respect your opinion. Sadly, I'm not good at rejection, I'm afraid you'll have to die!"
-John Glover, "Batman and Robin"

"Great. That's what we need around here: more rejection!"
-Keith

"I hope you know this will go down on your permanent record..."

I didn't get the job. Not sure why, and my friend Jennie is looking to go Erin Brockovich on her boss to find out why. Good Jennie.

The interview with said company which I refrain naming went well, or so I thought. It was formal, though, maybe a little too formal. He ready the questions from a sheet. The questions reminded me of STUCO campaigns. Ex: "We here at our store like to work as a team. As you know, working as a team is not always easy. What is an example of a time when you had to work as a team and had trouble?" I felt as though I were living out the life-line exercise from "Donnie Darko."

There were other aspects about the interview that made me ask if I really wanted to be working at this establishment. Some of it was just a little too "Office Space" for me in the sense of wearing flare and getting on people's cases for "having a case of the Mondays." Ex: The guy interviewing me had his nametag on upside down, and when I pointed it out to him, he smiled and said, "Oh, we're all doing this today, to show that we're #1 in customer service. We want our customers to ask us about it so that we can let them know we're dedicated to them."

You know that look most people give me when I open my mouth? You know, that "Uh..." look? I tried my best to hold back on giving that look.

So now I'm back at square one. But never to fear, I have some good leads on some places downtown and have been in what we call the "talking stages." I have some money saved up that can last me until July, so I will not starve if I don't find a job tomorrow, but I have to save money for London and California. That's a big pressure in finding work.

But also there's the pride thing, and that's probably the biggest factor. Not having a job or school or anything to do makes me feel unproductive and makes me feel, well, worthless. That's not to say that I feel people who don't work or go to school are worthless, but usually those people are called "Grandma" or "Uncle Walter." I don't know if it's our society (shame) or self-internalized punishment (guilt, stress), but there's a certain anxiety to not having things figured out (i.e. summer plans). I have faith that things will work out and that this is just a temporary break (I should maybe even enjoy it, right?), but it's this period right now that feels uncomfortable. Most of my friends have their summers planned (job, classes, internship, etc.) and they're booked. Not having an internship (despite having tried) or having my schedule locked up makes me feel, when looking at all of them, well, inadequate. It's not that I've been lazy, either. I don't think I have to prove that to any of you.

Just to myself.

And it doesn't help that this past week I've felt spiritually stagnant.

"Saturday is Shattered day!"

Enough of that. Things will work out. I have faith. I can volunteer with my time that I'm not working (with the Missourian and maybe Lourdes or the Women's Shelter, like Keith). And I do have good news. I learned that in the fall, I will be Curt and Clyde's TA for J369 (the online Missourian staff). And it pays!

In the meantime (i.e. ten minutes after I learned I didn't get the job), I went to Lauralee's with Keith. After watching Sally lose games of Dr. Mario to her friends Rachel and Christy, we all went to Shattered for Retro Dance Night. Keith and I, both dramatic and itching to write and do something creative as a release, think Shattered is a script-worthy place. There was this goth looking Stone Gossard type wearing combat boots. And a chick wearing a Molly Ringwald ala "Breakfast Club" pink blouse, with Elton John sunglasses and a vinyl skirt. There was a group of girls crowding around each other doing hand movements to Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody." There was a guy breakdancing to every song and then when he bumped into the wall, he got in an argument with himself. And there was Sally. Every dance move in her arsenal looks like it could be drug-induced or borrowed from "Showgirls." She was sober and not stripping tonight, though.

Fun random fact: Within a matter of months, Sally will be related to Mark Oz. Her sister is engaged to his cousin. For those of you who do not know, Mark Oz is a friend of a friend and is in my estimation a person of good character and moral intentions. He's been known to hang around Campus Crusade, and to think of him at dinners at Dali's with Sally makes me smile.

Random tangent aside and done with, Shattered helped make a blah day a little less blah-tastic. It helped not only moi, but Keith, or "the little mozzo ball" as he is know in some circles. Mainly Jake's.

"Look at me! I'm hot girl #37!"

Crank has returned to St. Louis, and Jake has moved into Crank's room. Once again, I am roommies with the Grandpa. Tis a good roommate. This week has been a full house, and not in the sense of the TV show, nor in the sense of the poker hand. Neigh, in the sense that we've had lots o' peeps in the house. Kind of an about-face from the days of Crank, who kept in his room after the magic hour of 9 o'clock. Our boarders were Liam, a rowdy good-intentioned Irish chap, and Jessie, his wise, calmer girlfriend (dare I say better half? :) Good folk, they are, good folk. Fun to have them. I'll miss Liam's mouthy antics, but Jessie will be just across the street at Lurch's place as his subleaser. God bless her. God bless her, God bless her, God bless her. God bless that poor, poor, poor girl. Straight to heaven will be that girl. Amen.

Get your ass to the 'blog!

Goodloe has a blog now. Check it out, it is her way of keeping in touch with everyone when she's in Milwaukee for the summer and most of the other people are wherever for, well, ever.

Leavin' on a jet plane...

Jackie leaves tomorrow, as does Katy of Irish Lit fame. Then just about all the seniors will have left (with the exception of Coop, who's kickin' it here for another month or so).

Just about all the non-graduates who are leaving have left, too, with the exception of Luke and Lurch, who are both here till the weekend. (NOTE: While I lumped them together, they are NOT going to the same place. Thank the Lord.)

I didn't want to address the issue, because I wouldn't know how, and also because I didn't want to face it. Nothing I could say would do justice to what these people have meant to me or what it feels like to have them ripped away. I just couldn't put it in words, and I didn't want to be responsible for more sap online than need be, especially in blog form, because that's a bunch of bull sugar, no?

I'm hoping to talk to Courtney tonight to find out when she's flying out to L.A. I talked to her yesterday while she was in between Edwardsville and Springfield, Ill. I'm hoping to get her blogging soon, as well as Claire. They will be our two pillars of the coasts: Ni on the West Coast in Californ-I-A, and Claire in NYC. What a dream!

So let's be happy for our friends and be glad that other people will get to share in their awesomeness now, okay? I mean, for real. Other people will now experience the joy of mocking Erin for wearing pink and glitter, and listen to Jackie yell "Yo yo, po po!" when the cops drive by.

But, just because graduation was sad for a lot of us, it doesn't mean we can't enjoy...

Highlights from the weekend

I was hanging with Courtney's family in her apartment and her sister began to say something about her "wild friend who's bi." I started giving her grief about that in the "happens to be black" way and she got defensive. "I have no problem with people who are gay, lots of my friends are gay," she said. Then she covered her dad's ears and said, "But don't get me wrong, I'm not gay. I like the penis, not the vagina."

I have to remind you at this point that Morgan is of the mentality that I'm sure she actually thought her hands would muffle the sound. They didn't, though, as her father's face proved evidence. Later, she commented on how she needed to sound-proof her hands, and Mr. Tripp responded, "Yes, you do, Miss Penis."

Full House
The rest of the Tripp family came in today: Sherrill (Mom), Ed (Dad) and Morgan (younger sister). Oy, what a trip! And what a Tripp! And the extended family of aunts, uncles and who-knows-what come in tomorrow.

I met Courtney and Meagan at the Artisan for coffee a little after 2 p.m. Courtney had just said her goodbyes at the Missourian and Meagan had had a job interview at Mehlville High School in St. Louis (South County, what what!!), so it was charged already. Courtney has been characterized as the outgoing Penny Lane type who sometimes seems a little out there or a little spaced. Her sister, then, would be the nun: reserved, and very prim and proper. This itself is a dichotomy, but then by adding the conservative Republican father, the mother who went to Woodstock but had such a good time that she doesn't remember it, and then the sister who's a dancer and a poster child for the Britney generation, it was, well, shall we say, eclectic.

They have a great chemistry with each other, and they don't let anyone feel left out. I fell into place as the sixth family member just fine. Of course, a lot of the talk was dominated by Courtney's job in L.A. and then making fun of Morgan and Meagan. I felt for poor Ed. I wish I could move into that house with him just so that he's not the only one who pees standing up.

Spill the wine...

Mr. and Mrs. Tripp treated us to dinner at Village Wine and Cheese, an elegant restaurant/wine store. And by "us," I do mean most of the big players: me, Derek, his brother Brett, Keith, Erin, Kenny, Emily, Jake, Sonderman, Goodloe and Palencia. We dressed up, too, so it was a nice change of pace to how we usually see each other (particularly Keith, who usually dons just boxers and a cigarette). They had four different kinds of wines and a special entree menu just for our group.

Courtney's mom had the camera at her hip for easy access, and anytime anyone sneezed, farted or laughed, she whipped out the camera and took pictures. The flash was bright enough to stun a horse and went off three times each time it was on.

There was a bet among Courtney's family and some others as to whether Meagan or I would get drunk first. She conceded two hours into it, so I won, though I do think we were going at the same pace. This bet got its staying power because we both have reputations as being lightweights. Most everyone voted that I would outlast Meagan, except Jake, because: 1) he doesn't know Meagan as well, and 2) he's a big ass.

'Wassup, female?!'

I left Village Wine and Cheese with Derek and Brett en route to Gerbes and Courtney's apartment. Brett called shotgun every time we got near the car, but it worked out well. He likes to take it upon himself to shout things out of car windows so as to harass and victimize whoever could be walking on the sidewalk. He likes such standard favorites as "Wassup, female?" and "Wassup, SLUT?" He taught me a new one, which was, "Chill out." Says the Brett, "You gotta try this one, Pat. Tell random people to chill out. They won't know what you're talking about and they'll get pissed. It's hilarious."

He also yelled "Show us your tits!" and "Hippies suck!" when we got to East Campus, but the worst was when we saw an Asian man on the street and he yelled, "Welcome to America." I promise you that within ten years, this boy will be arrested.

Later on in the night, as we were coming down Rock Quarry to get back to my place, I was telling Derek to look out for deer so as to not hit them. Brett thought this was great and began using the word "carcass." He said that we should scare the deer by howling at them.

So he howled at them. For five minutes. Derek was loving it, and lovingly told his brother that he would use that method to alert the deer each time down Rock Quarry on his way back to the house. What a thug.

Meagan's been passed out for about three hours, and I probably better go to bed, too. I have to be Courtney's honors graduation by 9:30 a.m. After that graduation, but before the journalism graduation, I'm supposed to help Goodloe and Jeff buy flasks. The word is that each time someone they know is called, they'll take a drink. As if they weren't alcoholics enough.

I saw two deer on the way home last night. They were on the edge of the road, but I had to halt to see them. We stared each other down for almost a minute. Then I took my foot off the break and the sound of the gas sent them bolting. But it was 3 a.m., so it's anyone's guess why they left.

'You're the reason I want to stay'

A week or so from today, Courtney will be in L.A.

As in, a week or so from today, Courtney will be living in L.A.

For those of you whom I have not talked to in the last 48 hours, you are most likely doing a double-take and experiencing whiplash RIGHT NOW. Understandably so. It happened quickly.

On Tuesday night, Courtney's mom got an e-mail on a horse-type listserve about a stable in California looking for a working student. In lingo for non-horse people (for whom I am the poster-child), a "working student" is the young college-aged person that they have to help train the horses, feed them, shovel their crap and move their hay, and maybe even teach lessons. In the horse world, it's a primo job with a great career ladder. And California is booming with horses, she tells me, even if it is 8 million miles away.

So she zips off an e-mail with a cover letter that same night. For all she knew, it would pan out as well as the other jobs have (or have not), but because the hopes for jobs the past month have been dire, having another job to throw the dart at lifted her spirits. The worst they could do would be to say no.

The dart landed.

That next morning, Wednesday, she got an e-mail back from the people in California, and they said they were impressed with her cover letter and resume. Within the next few days, they told her, they said they would have Lars, the head honcho, get back to her.

That night, Courtney, Derek and I were in St. Louis at my parents' house. Courtney's sister and Derek's brother were both flying in the next morning. We were in the dining room with my parents and brothers. Mom had made pizzas for us and even gotten Courtney a cake for graduation. ("I was hoping to get Mizzou colors, but I figured orange and brown worked better than black and yellow.") Relaxed atmosphere as it was, we stayed in there for a while chatting, considering that Courtney and Mom have adopted each other and probably won't see each other for a while.

"The Matrix: Reloaded" was coming out that night and my brother John was hoping we could make the 10 show. He had been asking us for an hour if we wanted to go or not, and we finally said yes around 9. It was then when Courtney checked her phone and saw she had a missed call. She checked her voice mail and we could tell who it was by her face. We could more directly tell when she said "It's California!" and motioned she needed a pen. Cut out any doubt or subtlety right there.

The movie was going to start in less than an hour and time was already of the essence. She wanted to know if she had time to call. I said go for it, John asked if she could do it in the car and Mom said, "No, the reception will cut out. Do it here in the next room. 'The Matrix' can wait!"

'The Matrix' waited, and so did we. After a while, though, she came upstairs doing her "Bah!" face and said, "Well, they said if I want it, I've got it!"

She would have till Monday. As it turned out, these guys would give her a furnished apartment and an $800/month stipend. And the apartment? According to the Swedish guy, "It's down the street from, oh, shall we say, Hollywood? Do you know where that is?"

She called her parents and gave me and Derek a bunch of hugs. My parents came in from Schnucks and instead of hugs, Mom did a high-five and a "You go, girl!" and Dad shook her hand. And then broke out the best bottle of Mount Gay Rum ever. I would like to take this opportunity to let you know that we Irish are not limited to drinking only whiskey or Guinness. In my family, actually, that stuff is considered shit. Also, for those of you incorrectly judging we Irish Americans, just because we drink, doesn't mean we are automatically depressed. We have anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills for that.

In any case, Courtney got the call yesterday that these guys are bona fide. Ipso ergo facto, she's taking it.

But 2 1/2 days ago, she had nothing. She was going back to Antioch. She still is, but now she'll be there for a day, rather than a summer.

Now she's got the job she's always wanted. And she'll be 8 million miles away.

I ain't gettin' mushy!

Well, yeah I am. Who am I kidding?

Being that this is finals week, I will be posting specials. Anything you want, you got. Jackie has already posted a request for me on Erin's blog.

Also, to all my fly graduating honeys:
I will have your CDs.
With bells on.
"We finsta dance/with ants in our pants/like your mama in a trance."

I do realize that I could be using this blog to post lots of great sentimental memories about everyone graduating, but then I might get really sad and I still have finals to study for. As a person skilled in the art of denial, as well as a perfect example of the "Peter Pan syndrome," I don't find it necessary to talk about the difficulties of change and transition. I can just ignore it, and it all goes away. Just like my first two hamsters. I ignored them, and they went away. My newts did the same thing, actually.

"I don't post because your entries are so long, I can't get to the comment feature. Break 'em up, yo!"
-Erin, posting on Monday, April 21, 2003

Erin has said that she stopped reading my blog because my entries are too long. Well, Ms. Thang, you should know that I took the aforementioned post to heart and decided to only write smaller, bite-sized portions. Take that. It's that type of mentality that allowed "USA Today" to exist in the first place. SHEESH!

Mike: "Is your blog like the guy's notebooks in 'Seven'? Ya know, 'This guy went on and on about how bad his day was, so I threw up on him'?"
Me: "I've never thrown up on anyone, except myself."
Ray: "Well, you gotta branch out!"

Desperately seeking Lord only knows what
It's strange to see how people come across my blog. According to my Extreme Tracking link, people have gotten to my blog by looking up the following terms:

*"blog" + "purdue" + "girls" + "asian" + "engineering"
*drunk girls being taken advantage of
*archdiocese eulogy funeral man guy person thingy
*young gay white students blonde kissing
*pinewood derby physics start tang
*pictures of Hasenpfeffer --GERMAN FOOD
*dancing white boy pic
*jared leto,hairdo,pictures

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who you are), you can't find any of these things on my blog, although I do happen to be a dancing white boy. You can, however, find pics of Jake, who in turn is his own kind of dancing white boy. And I have a picture of Henry Lane on here, too, and well, that can count as just about anything.

Random acts of blindness
Even though Erin says my posts are too long, she can deal with the following snippets from my week:
*Hilary has perhaps one of the coolest movie collections ever.
*Margaret Cho is hilarious.
*I drove Kevin to STL and got to hang out with my dad and brother. Good times had by all.
*The Arena Bar and Grill in Dogtown (in St. Louis) is one of the coolest bars/grills around-- I'm taking you next time we're both there. (Yes, YOU. YOU!)
*"24 Hour Party People," the movie about the guy who promoted Joy Division, New Order and the Happy Mondays in Manchester, U.K., in the late 1970s, is quite wonderful. I have pretty random tastes that few other people share, so to see it as a subject for a movie was quite awesome. It's a great movie movie, especially for people who love England or have even been there. Hmmm, I think I know one or two people who fit that description...
*Seeing "Singin' in the Rain" at the Missouri Theatre was quite fun.
*I am a big doofus who, after having 3 cups of coffee, tripped on the stairs in the Artisan. These were the steps going up. Yes, yes, I know.

Countdowns:
To my only final: 3 days
To me being done with 310: 3 days
To my friends' graduations: 7 days
To having to realize everything graduation implies: 8 days

And I'm out.

And with this, we wash away your sins...

(and your car, your house, your grandmother...)

Greetings, my friends.

This is Pat and Hilary, live from the newsroom, on this eve of destruction and armageddon (and no, I don't mean that really snazzy song by Def Leppard, though it does rock).

For those of you just tuning in, the tornadoes that just ravaged the shit out of the rest of the midwest are about to ravage the shit out of us. Tom is leading this zesty crew, Jacqui is rubbing her hands in giddy anticipation, Chip is skipping (with delight), and well, Hilary, she's about to go manic on our asses.

We are all about to die.

But, before said carnal destruction occurs, I shalt let Ms. Hilary post a message. Hilary?

Oh what a semester it has been. I was called out of bed for the Columbia accident, I interviewed Joe Schmoes in the rain when we went to war, and now this. This, my friend (actually Pat's friends) takes the cake on the SHITTY things I've had to endure from 306. Doesn't this go above and beyond the call? I think so. Y'all can start taking dibs on my possessions. I've got a really nice computer and neato parents.

Any takers?

Hilary would also like to point out that, at age 19, her death today would mean she'd die as a teenager. Also, she wants you to know that she's wearing sandals, meaning that her feet will wash away if she's to be sent to cover this. And that is looking like it will happen: Chip just told her to make calls to Rocheport. Looks like she's going out to wine country.

I think I should designate which of my materials go where. Let's go.
Okay, so my pimp ass Muppets from my apartment are to go to my nephew, but he is allowed to give at least one of them to Uncle John. As for my DVDs, I'll let Brian, Lurch and Josh divvy over those, but Brian does get first pick. Brian, Keith, Erica and Luke get to fight over my CDs, but we have to make sure Michael learns to love Ben Folds, the Cure, Joy Division, Jesus Christ Superstar, The Who's Tommy and Taylor Dayne's Greatest Hits. Uh, scrath that last one. It can perish with me in the tornado.

Courtney, Josh and Brian can take dibs on my posters. My mom gets my Bible. Luke gets my catechism and my rosaries.

As for my snazzy parents, I'll let my sibs hang on to them, but I will allow that my friends can rotate them: Lurch and Bo are first in line for them.

My car won't survive this, so no need to give it away.

My roommates can go to the convent/monastery. Lord knows they need to be there.

Jackie can go back to the madame from whom I bought her. She done me proud.

Thanks
..to Erica for this rose petal rosary she brought me back from the Vatican. It even has the official papal cross on it. Thanks, Erica!

New additions to the Quotes of Fame:
"Unless they let me stab a chicken to death, then therapy won't help. I need to write scripts instead."
-My roommate

"This is boring. I shouldn't be here! I'm a fun girl. I should be shopping or doing something else that's vain."
-Hilary, on what it's like to be in Lee Hills on a Saturday

Of course, I am here on a Saturday... At the desk. Doin' the do. Editing copy. Watching Fred. In fear, no less...

And waiting for things to edit.

But I will leave you all with quotes from "Donnie Darko." As you will see, this excerpt does well to combine Keith's quote and Hilary's quote.

Gretchen: My mom had to get a restraining order against my step dad. He has emotional problems.
Donnie: Oh, I have those too! What kind does your step dad have?
Gretchen: He stabbed my mom four times in the chest.
Donnie: Oh.

Aight, homies, more later. Future posts will include the return of Erica and the last bash of Courtney, as well as getting to meet Palencia's son. According to her, he will be a large man, because he has big feet.

God bless Palencia.

There's an amusement park in California, with rides and attractions, called LegoLand and - you guessed it - just about everything is made out of Legos. I don't want to think of what the rides are like...

But I did find this snazzy pic of the park's "Enchanted Walk." According to the web site, this is "a nature stroll through a landscape setting, exhibiting LEGO® models of animals native to the area."

What a bunch of bullshit.

Not too far away from that...

After having been reprimanded by Jeremy, a manager at the Artisan, for occasionally looking up the answers to the coffee trivia questions, I am glad to say that I am in good graces with said establishment again. Unfortunately, it's leaving me broke as shit.

But here's the cool part!

I'm doing a whole "Catch Me If You Can" thing ala the Leo movie... I apply my knowledge of coffee quiz cheaters and come up with some of the hardest quizzes ever. And the staff at the Artisan is loving it.

Ex: What John Hughes movie took its name from an NYC band? And for the bottomless, who was this band's drummer?

The answer, my friends, is "The Breakfast Club," and the drummer was Madonna.

Uh, who's the man here? I think that would be me.