When the last king of Hollywood shatters his glass on the floor

Last week while administering an exam, I got a phone call from one of my friends. Obviously I didn't answer. A few minutes later I got another call. Then a text. I figured it must be important, so I took my phone out of my pocket to see what was going on. Turned out that they had a suite at Planet Hollywood for the weekend, but weren't going to be able to use it that night. They wanted to know if I wanted it. Of course I did, because, hey, free suite.

It turned out to be the Sharon Stone suite, with a bunch of memorabilia from various movies starring her. There were a bunch of pictures of her on the walls, outfits she'd worn in various movies displayed in huge cases around the suite, and coffee tables/end tables with glass tops and props from her movies, including her cigarette case, the ice pick, the lie detector machine, etc. from Basic Instinct. It was kind of cool.

I took a bunch of pictures, but something was wrong with the lighting in the room, my camera, or both, so none of them turned out and you're going to have to take my word for it since the pics below don't do it justice. Which is a shame, because as I texted my friend upon my arrival, there were so many nice surfaces, I wouldn't even begin to know which one to first snort my coke off of.

Anyway, here are the few that actually look decent:
The bed:


The nightstand (aka, coke snorting surface number three):


The view the next morning (because the really cool night shots were all blurry):


Memorabilia table (aka, coke snorting surface number one)


Also unfortunately, I spent the night alone. I told a friend the next morning that if there was ever a room for housekeeping to enter only to find my dead body slumped over a pile of cocaine, or naked in the closet with a belt around my neck, that would've been the room.

Ah, missed opportunities.

And the wise man said I don't wanna hear your voice

Friend: I just got a text that said "are you a guy?"

Me: From who? And are you?

Friend: From an unknown number. I said, "yes, who is this?" and they said, "a girl - how old are you?" How does someone get my number?

Me: I don't know. I mean, I spray painted it on the wall in the locker room at like three local high schools, but I don't know.

And I believe there's a way to describe the silence as a sound

I've compiled another music mix for my your listening pleasure. Check it out. These only show up here once every six months or so.

Just One In A Billion(click to download)
1. Bad Sun - The Bravery
2. Lover's Waltz - A.A. Bondy
3. Keep It Clean - Camera Obscura
4. Long Time - Deer Tick
5. Pavement Tune - The Frames
6. Flashing Red Light Means Go - The Boxer Rebellion
7. So Lonely - The Whigs
8. Sirens - The Whip
9. Poised And Ready - Brendan Benson
10. Apple Trees - Eels
11. Sabali (Paul Epworth Remix) - Amadou and Mariam

Enjoy!

Kinda hard to blame somebody for goin' to a better place

Most of my friends are out of town this weekend. That makes for a boring Friday night. So, I did what I usually do when I'm alone and bored - I went for a drive. I drove across Hoover Dam to Arizona so I could go down by the banks of the Colorado River. It's been a while since I've been near flowing water. It relaxes me. I should do it more often.

On the way back I had to stop at a police checkpoint. They stop everyone to inspect their vehicles to make sure nothing's suspicious looking before allowing people to cross the dam. As I pulled up to the officer, he told me to roll down my window so he could see inside my car. Just then the song Paradise Blues by Eels came on the stereo.

Scary little suicide bomber
On her way to paradise
Gonna take yourself and be with her
Killin' once and killin' twice

Not exactly the best timing.

But still it's been written, a history of lovers, given and taken in ink

My ex-wife called the other day to let me know that Togers was the recipient of the "loverboy" award at his end of year band concert.

She told me that his teacher said he probably would've gone out with more girls, but there weren't any he hadn't already dated.

This is what I want to do to him* for not sharing his secrets with his old man.










*Not really, but kinda

We haven't met and that's okay

On the first day of my summer class, I was going down the roster to see who was in attendance to find out if I had extra room for a few people who were trying to add. When I got to the 'M's, one student's last name was Montana.

Me (after calling out their name): Any relation to Hannah?

Student: No, but Joe is my uncle.

Me: Really?

Student: No.

The most disturbing thing about this exchange was this: Why wasn't Joe Montana the first celebrity to pop into my mind?

Box full of letters - 7

Dear Smart Car Drivers,

I admire what you're doing for the planet by driving cars that get a godzillion miles to the gallon. That said, I'd like to offer you a word of advice: You should refrain from getting a vanity plate* that makes it seem as though you're trying to look tough.



You're driving a smart car. You're not tough. It's okay that you're not tough, but you're not. Your vanity plate should read something like TRE HGR or something instead.

Much love,

Native Minnow







*If, however, this plate isn't about looking tough, but is referring to your favorite activity**, then please disregard this.

**But that's pretty gay if that's the case.

Every breath you take

Tonight I went with a friend to get dinner and watch basketball. He dropped me off at my car when we were finished. As we pulled up I noticed a piece of paper under the windshield wiper.

I said, "That had better not be a flier from somebody. If it is I'm going to be pissed. I hate those things."

My friend asked, "What else would it be?"

"It had better be a note from my stalker."

It was.

There's an eventual release from every scale of crime

Yesterday afternoon I got a text from my ex-wife. It said, "Just told [Mr M] to go sit on his bed until he does what he was told. He replied, 'I am gonna be sitting there forever 'cause I am not going to do it.'"

Almost immediately after that I got a second text from her saying, "Well, it took less than five minutes for him to get sick of his room so he did it. So now you know, forever equals five minutes to [Mr M]."

Shock the monkey

Contender for worst children's book ever:



Even worse is that it was in a college book store.

Tell me it's not just me that thinks so, but at least it wasn't 'Choke the Chicken.'

So you can take this cookie, and stick it up your . . . yeah

Yesterday, while at the grocery store with a friend, I found some cookies that looked pretty good. My friend said that she probably shouldn't eat one because she's trying to lose weight, but then read the label and said that she'd have to try at least one because they were "enrobed in chocolate."

When we got to the check out line, a man brought a few items to hand to the woman in front of us. He held up a package of cookies and she said no. He said, "please?" but she still said no. Dejectedly, he handed her whatever she'd sent him to get, and walked back to the cookie aisle to put them back.

The cashier finished up with them, and then grabbed my things to scan.

My friend said, "No cookies. No." Basically to make fun of the woman in front of us.

The cashier looked at her and laughed.

My friend said, "I'm just kidding. I don't own him like that."

I said, "I'm probably not going to share my cookies with you anyway."

"That's okay. Maybe I don't want them. Your cookies are 'enrobed' in sin."

I turned to the cashier and said, "That's the best way to be enrobed."

She blushed. Understandable, since she had no idea what the 'enrobed' joke was about anyway.

When I came here today, all I wanted to say was how much I miss you

Just wanted to take a second to let the people of the internets know that I have the most awesome mother in the entire world.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

This could be your lucky day in Hell

Last night I had plans with Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend. She had a final exam in the evening, and said she'd call me when she finished.

I got an email from her in the middle of the day stating that she didn't have her phone, so she'd just come over to my house after she was done. I emailed her back to say that would be perfect (since I wanted to watch the NBA playoffs anyway).

Later in the evening, I logged in to facebook and saw that she'd changed her status to "I think I may get lucky tonight."

Imagine my disappointment when I realized that I forgot to give her the new gate code to my neighborhood, and couldn't call to let her know.

I'll never look down again, again

Earlier this week:

Ex-wife: Hi. I need you to talk to your son. He got in trouble on the playground today.

Me: Okay. Put him on.

Mr M: Hi Dad.

Me: Hi dude. Your mom said you got in trouble at school today.

Mr M: Yeah. I did.

Me: What did you do?

Mr M: I called a girl a midget.

Me: Why did you do that?

Mr M: Because she is.

At least he's penitent. Oh, wait.

Forget about feelings, that's not what pays

Student (about to turn in his lab final): How can we find out our grades?

Me: I'll have them posted outside the lab sometime tomorrow.

Student: Is there any chance for extra credit?

Me: No.

Student: You need your car washed or anything?

Me: No.

Student: Need a tall blonde girl? I could see about sending a hottie your way.

Me: No, I think I'm good.

Another student approached me and said that the one who made the "offer" shoots porno films.

Which means he probably could've delivered the goods.

Which means . . .

WHAT WAS I THINKING???

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I take a look at my life and realize there's not much left

Has it really been a whole week since I last posted? Sorry. I've been busy. With your mom.

(Just kidding. That's not your mom. That's a huge 'statue' that was at Rhyolite, a ghost town that used to be the largest boom town in Nevada [even bigger than Vegas from 1905-1911]).

I went to Death Valley again. One of my friends had never been, and we heard that wildflowers were blooming everywhere, so we figured now was as good a time as any. But before we got to there we stopped at Rhyolite. There was one house that was built out of bottles in 1906 - ironically it was one of the only buildings left standing:


A monument to the miners that used to live there:


And what's a ghost town without some ghosts?


One of them was about to steal a bike.


There was also a couch that looked like it could have been one of Anonymous Boxer's projects:


Entering Death Valley:


There were a fair number of flowers




And cacti:


One of the craziest things in Death Valley is this place called Scotty's Castle. Who builds a castle in the middle of the desert? Scotty. That's who.








And of course, Badwater. The lowest elevation in the western hemisphere:


Sea level is marked way up on these rocks (but you may have to click on the picture to be able to see it).



The trip was made even better by the bags of candy we bought at this huge candy store out in the middle of nowhere. I hope your weekend was as good as mine.

I used to love her, but I had to kill her, I knew I'd miss her, so I had to keep her, she's buried right in my back yard

Tonight I went to pub trivia with some friends. One of the questions asked which artist went on tour in 2004, played in 96 U. S. cities and became the highest grossing male artist. We had no idea. We just started naming artists that we thought might fit the bill, even if we didn't know they were on tour that year. I guessed Sting.

My friend said, "That's it! You got it."

I said, "I don't know. I was just throwing that out there. I don't really think it's him."

She replied, "I do. I'm 100% sure. If I'm wrong, you can murder me."

"How about if you're wrong you just give me a bj instead?"

"How about you can murder me, then have sex with my still warm corpse?"

"Deal!"

The answer was Prince.

When the guy announced that, I acted like I was going to choke her.

She said, "I'd like to recant and just blow you instead. I don't want to die."

I don't know. It seems to me that if you're willing to put the stakes that high, then you ought to be willing to pay the price if you are, in fact, wrong.

These snakes is slitherin' with dollar signs in they eyes

My office is just around the corner from a classroom. Herpetology is currently being taught there now. The other day my friend and I were talking in my office, and the herpetology TA was out in the hall making noise while she was doing something.

Me: What is she doing out there?

Friend: It looks like she's playing around with a bunch of snakes in the hallway.

Me (doing my best Samuel L. Jackson impersonation): I HAVE HAD IT WITH THESE MOTHER FUCKING SNAKES IN THIS MOTHER FUCKING HALLWAY!!!

Unbeknownst to me, class was in session.

And they were taking a test.

Yes, they all heard.

And I get lonely, but I ain't that lonely yet

A little over a month ago I got a text from a friend as I was getting ready for bed. Apparently there was something extremely funny written on a mutual friend's facebook page, and she said I needed to go check it out.

I did.

It was a comment left by a gay friend of theirs. He asked her what she thought my reaction would be if he offered me a "no-strings attached" blow job.

At the time I joked that I didn't know if I should be repulsed, flattered, or both.

I told the story to another of my friends and she thought it was hilarious. She did a little cyberstalking and came to the conclusion that this guy would make a pretty hot chick. Her take: "I think you should just put him in a dress and go for it."

Fast forward to today's departmental seminar. I was sitting next to the girl who initially alerted me to the comment, and she pointed out that the kid was also in the audience. Another friend that I was sitting by had heard the story and wanted to see what the guy looked like. We pointed him out.

"That's a GUY?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Why? Don't tell me you're going to be of the same mind as [Friend] when she saw his pictures."

"What did she say again?"

"She said I should just put him in a dress and go for it."

"I think she might be right."



I seriously need to figure out a way to stop these apparent gay vibes from emanating out from me.

So come along and play my game, you'll never be the same

This week I had to cover a friend's lab because she couldn't be there. It happens to be the week of a short field trip where we visit a place about thirty minutes away from campus. We shuttle students out there in twelve passenger vans. As I pulled out of the parking lot with a van full of students, I went over a speed bump too fast, and bounced the students in the back seat around a little.

Me: Sorry.

Student: What? You're not used to driving a big van like this?

Me: Not like this. The van I drive doesn't have any windows.

Student: Or passengers?

Me: Exactly. And I usually drive a lot slower as I'm patrolling neighborhoods looking for kids to offer free candy to.

Student: . . .

I won't let you bury it, won't let you smother it, won't let you murder it

Last Saturday I saw Muse play at Mandalay Bay. It was possibly the best concert experience of my life. And thanks to the internets, I can share some of it with you. Here are some pictures that some people posted of the show:







And here are some videos:

Muse 4/10/10 - Intro and Uprising


Time is Running Out


Starlight


Supermassive Black Hole


United States of Eurasia


Feeling Good


Stockholm Syndrome


New Born (Bad sound, but the lights were really cool for this song)


I can actually see myself in the crowd in he Starlight and Supermassive Black Hole videos.

Don't be jealous.

It ain't pretty when the pretty leaves you with no place to go

Friday night I was out with friends, and the place we were at was packed. One of my friends pointed out a girl at the table next to us because she wanted my opinion on whether the girl was attractive. She was. Later in the evening, that girl tried making her way to the bathroom, but there were people in her way. One of them accidentally bumped her and she got a disgusted look on her face and threw her hands up in the air.

I thought her reaction was a little over the top. After all, you're going to get bumped when you're trying to make your way through dancing people in a crowded place. Apparently my friend agreed with me because she leaned over and said, "She's not THAT hot. Someone should tell her."

Better late than never

I spent Easter in Arizona with my kids. The weekend started off fine, and even though it ended on a sour note, with me putting myself as a candidate for the worst father ever, it was still nice to see them. It'd been far too long.

We dyed eggs, and Tortellini and Togers hid them in the back yard so that Mr M could go on an Easter egg hunt.

I only had one contribution to the egg hiding, and that was trying to use camouflage to hide this one in the pool.


Tortellini thought it would be fun to draw various things on some of the eggs she colored. They turned out pretty cool. She's creative, that one.






But my favorite egg might have been the one my ex's boyfriend made.


Togers didn't draw on any of his because I told him not to draw a pentagram on an Easter egg.

Mr M got tired of searching for them rather quickly, but persevered and found them all anyway. What a good sport.

The sporting life

Reason # 3,128 why I love NBA quotes comes from ESPN's recap of last night's Jazz vs. Rockets game:

"We were touching a lot of balls, we were deflecting a lot of passes," said Scola, who had five rebounds, two steals and a block. "We pretty much controlled the whole game."

There you have it - All it takes to win in the NBA is to touch a lot of balls.

Here comes Peter Cottontail

A few minutes ago I was talking to Mr M about the Easter Bunny coming tomorrow.

"Dad, there's no such thing. The Easter Bunny isn't real. It's just a guy dressed in a bunny suit that comes and leaves candy in your house."

Yeah, dude, 'cause that's less creepy.

We don't need no education

Last night I left my cell phone unattended for a few hours. When I checked it, I had four missed calls from my ex-wife, but no message. I called back to see what was going on, and Togers answered. He sounded very down.

Me: What's going on?

Him: Dad? Mom told me I had to call you about my grades. I got three Ds and two Fs.

Me: [About to launch into a profanity laced tirade]

Him: April Fool's!!!

I can't believe I fell for it.

And I believe there's a way to shut the things you don't need out

Talking on the phone to Mr M:

Me: How are you?

Mr M: I'm happy.

Me: Good. Why are you so happy?

Mr M: 'Cause I'm eating a cookie and talking to you.


It's the simple things, you know?

I want to lay my heavy head tonight on a bed of Califoria stars

I spent last weekend in Santa Monica. I usually try to send my kids postcards when I go on trips like that. Here's the one I sent to Togers:



I'm not sure if this makes me the best dad in the world, or the worst. I am, however, certain that it's one or the other - there can be no middle ground.

Candy, candy, candy oh I love you so

This is something that I posted a few years ago, but someone reminded me of it yesterday, and I think it's funny enough to warrant re-posting. But first, here's a relevant picture that always makes me laugh.



I decided a long time ago that I would make the world's worst pedophile. Why? Because I'd eat all the candy, and wouldn't have anything left to lure the kids into the van.

When I told that to a friend he added another reason: Even if I got a kid into the van, I'd probably just sit there and wait for the kid to make the first move.

At the time, my friend said, "I can picture this perfectly. [Minnow] sitting in a van, a kid in the passenger's seat, [Minnow] sitting there thinking, 'Come on, touch my hand. Please touch my hand.'"

All I need is one sandwich and I'm set all day for making crumbs

Friend 1: Thank you for all your help this weekend. Would you like for me to make you a sandwich to eat on the road?

Me: Thank you. That'd be great, but you don't have to make it for me. I'll do it myself.

Friend 1: Are you sure?

Me: I'm a big boy. I think I can handle it.


A few minutes later:

Me: That's right, bitches, I'm taking the last of the turkey.

Friend 2: You're such an asshole.

Me: I might be, but at least I'm the asshole who's got the rest of the turkey.

Hey, I don't wanna break down why I'm feeling so lonely when you're around

I was walking across campus today when I saw a friend of mine.

Her: Where are you going?

Me: Lunch. Want to come?

Her Friend (who I've never met): Are you going to buy food for us?

Me: The only way I'm buying you food is if you put out.


Got to make a good first impression, you know?

Well I tried my best to make her listen

Yesterday my sister sent me this picture in a text message along with the words "now you know."



I wrote back: I'm gonna need the address.

What? I could use the practice.

See the fallen snow

A friend and I left Vegas on Sunday afternoon to go snowshoeing in Death Valley. Our original plan was to leave "noonish" which turned into about 3:30 p.m. Despite our late start, we got to Death Valley while it was still light out.





But not for long.



We were able to find a place to park the molester van and sleep for the night that wasn't too far from the trail head, so we were able to start out at first light.

The charcoal kilns at the parking lot looked pretty cool. They used those to produce charcoal that was later used in the smelting process for some of the old mines in the area.


I signed in at the trail head.


We were well on our way by mid-morning.




We even had to use ice axes in a few places


Unfortunately, I am an old man, so this was as close to Telescope Peak as I would get.


This was about five miles in, and I was already beat. I knew that if I attempted to summit that I wouldn't be able to make it down off the mountain, so I told my friend to go ahead and I'd wait. He said he'd be back in about 3 1/2 hours. This is him on the way out.


I spent my time listening to my ipod and doing this:


His estimate of returning in 3 1/2 hours turned out to be more than ambitious. I started to get nervous when nearly 5 hours* had passed and I still hadn't seen him coming back down the ridge. I decided that I'd wait another 45 minutes, and if I still hadn't seen him then I'd try to call for help. Fifteen minutes later I saw him coming back down the trail.


An hour or so after that he made it back to where I'd been resting up for the return trip. From that point on it was a race with the sun, but we still took some time to admire the scenery.


Here's me overlooking Badwater.


We made it down the mountain and back to the road by dark, and just had to snowshoe the last mile and a half to the molester van using our headlamps. We made it to the molester van at about 9:30 p.m., and got back home at about 1 a.m. That made getting up at 6:30 this morning to get ready to teach a little difficult, but I made it alright. I'm glad we went. It was a good trip.







*The worst part about waiting that long for him to come back wasn't that I was contemplating calling search and rescue, or that I probably have brain cancer from sitting that long in close proximity to a radio tower that was on the summit where I was waiting. No, the worst part was that he had the toilet paper with him, and once peristalsis would no longer be denied, I found an answer to a question that no man should be faced with: How many snowballs** does it take to clean ones bunghole after dropping dooce in a snowbank?

**Eight

Supreme

I just ate a double decker taco supreme from Taco Bell whilst standing over the sink so that I wouldn't have to wash any dishes.

Ladies, are you sure you don't want some of this?

This charming man, why pamper life's complexity?

Friend: Why did you buy so many boxes of Girl Scout cookies?

Me: They're not all for me. Some are for [Friend], and some are for [Hot Waitress] since she asked me to get a box for her.

Friend: You actually bought her some?

Me: Of course. How else am I going to get her to love me?

Friend: You could try being witty and charming.

Me: Pfffffft.

Friend: You're right. Better stick with the cookies.

An old friend calls and tells us where to meet

I was walking into a store the other day and saw a guy talking on a payphone outside. He looked just like this:



You stay classy, Shirtless Pay Phone Guy!