Well, at least I think I’m funny.

This post occurred to me mainly because it occurred to someone else. I was at work today and a co-worker who shall remain nameless (Julie) said:

“Hey Andy, I think you should do a post about me.”

Well Julie that was potentially the worst idea you’ve ever had. Because I’m doing it.

I wouldn’t say I “know Julie really well.” In fact I’ve only ever spoken to her at work and on Instant Messenger. The things you read here will be largely fabricated and for Julie’s sake please don’t think she actually does them (though she might, who can tell?).

First I’d like to start off with a picture…just so when you picture Julie, you picture her in the proper manner - drunk and out of control.

Just for the record I didn’t take, nor I was even present on the evening when this picture was taken.

From what I can tell, Julie’s weekends typically start out something like this…

Julie came home angry and discombobulated from having worked a double at Cafe 210 West. As usual she was letting her temper dictate the majority of her actions.

“Who is getting me a fucking drink!?” she screamed to an empty room, the veins in her neck bulging, her eyes bloodshot from the previous evening’s cocaine binge.

Just then there was a knock at the door…well, one she imagined anyway.

“If it’s that fucking leprechaun…” she muttered while stalking to the door.

Sure enough, gazing through the peephole (and the haze caused by heroine withdrawl) Julie spied Crackers McGill.

Crackers wasn’t an imaginary friend so much as he was an imaginary fiend. He had an amazing talent for coercing Julie into participating in things like arson, man-slaughter, and high-stakes poker.

Julie ushered in the pint-sized pusher and was concerned only for a second as she recalled her previous lusting for an alcoholic beverage. Crackers was carrying on about how he did at the dog track and working up to asking Julie for money when he was stabbed with a scissor and punted out the window. Julie grinned, happy she could get on to the finer things in life…getting drunk.

Not being quite 21…or 20, Julie decided it would best to hit up some hapless upper-classman goon to get her alcohol. She took with her all the usual things she used to get booze - her purse, her cell phone, and a really, really big knife.

Not having many friends (because she’d killed most of them) Julie’s new tactic involved finding the oldest looking guy on the street and asking him to get her beer. It was her lucky day. She had only gone a block when she came across a slow-moving, hunched-over man who walked with a cane. He looked older than anyone Julie had ever seen…yet vaguely familiar.

“Andy?”
“Eh..Wha? Oh Julie, sorry. I can’t hear too well. What with being SO OLD!”
“Will you buy me some booze?” she said brandishing her knife.
“You know you don’t have to threaten me. I will happily furnish your insides with delicious posion.”

So Julie got her booze and returned to her apartment to drink alone.

“Man, I sure do hate drinking alone.” She said aloud. “I wonder how I can get some company…” she wondered as she flashed back on how she’d met some other recent friends: killing a woman and dating her brother and “helping him solve the mystery” of his sister’s death, dealing drugs to kids, taking drugs with kids, and wearing skirts on blustery days.

“I’ve got it!” She sprang to her window over-looking college avenue and tore off her shirt screaming:

“I’m drinking alone, I’m drinking alone! Come drink with me!”

Seconds later her staircase was lined with thousands of Fraternity Brothers, participating in latently homo-erotic celebrations in congratulations of finding such a sweet score.

After murdering the frat boys, Julie painted the walls with their blood and invited some other cooler people in for drinks…and satanic worship. But that’s a whole other story.

———-

Now you all know the Julie that I have come to know at Cafe. A ruthless, cold-blooded, substance abusing Penn Stater. But my good Lord, at least she didn’t go to Ohio State.

The End

Since its officially been one week since I posted I figured I should write something just for the sake of updating my legions of topless groupies.

Lately things have been very good for me. I have an interview in NYC tomorrow for Nonstop Music. If you check out their “contact us” page and then read the first two founder’s bios, you may be able to figure out why I think I’d fit in at this place.

I also got not one, but 2 interviews with the Library of Congress in the Copyright office. While these jobs would be less exciting and pay signifigantly less, they’d be close to a lot of people I know.

Which I would take if I got all three? Why the one in NYC of course.

I am quite excited. I am also slightly ill. But I don’t really feel sick. I’m just constantly producing massive amount of mucas.

Alright that’s it for now, I’ll write something interesting some other time…because I haven’t yet.

*disclaimer* This post may anger a lot of you and I tried to write it so that I didn’t come off sounding pretentious or insulting - but I often fail miserably when I do that. So please don’t take offense. It’s just an observation.

Spending two years in graduate school and meeting a lot of people in law school was a very interesting process. So many people I talked to I’d ask “so why did you go to law school?” and their answers would be things like “I don’t know.” This always caught me a little off guard. To invest three years and massive quantities of money in something you weren’t entirely sure about seemed a little goofy to me. It seemed like a choice that would eventually lead to doing what you don’t, or never did, want to do.

Then came the time for the more focused question. “What kind of law do you want to practice?” No one seemed to know that either. In fact the lot of girls that would talk to me about this would say “well I had a summer job at a firm doing X kind of law so I guess I’ll do that.” I guess I’ll do that? Yikes.

I’m not trying to piss anyone off here - even though I’m positive I have - but being back in State College has been really refreshing because everyone I talk to is doing what they want to do. They are studying what interests them (aside from the general ed courses) and they’re all really excited about it. It’s a very positive situation for learning and one that I never realized before.

I feel like a good majority of the people I met while I was doing my graduate work just wanted to step into the upper-income bracket. That the JD was their pass to a future of financial opportunity. And that’s not bad at all. You can want to make money, I have no problems with that, I want to make lots of money too. But at the same time I can’t imagine being an engineer just so I could make money. Or being a farmer just so I could make money. I could never do that. I can’t imagine ever accepting a job that didn’t seem interesting to me, just so I could make a good yearly income.

When I used to read the stats in newspapers about people that are happy with their jobs vs. those that aren’t I thought “there’s no way this is right, that many people can’t be unhappy” but I realized recently that it can be possible.

Comprimises are made. Decisions are made. Bang bam boom and you’re 30 making good money but the only reason you work all day is so that you can go home and bitch about how much work sucks.

On the other hand there are a lot of people I met who had a goal in mind when they went to law school. I really admired the work ethic of these people. They had a specific goal or job in mind and did their best and now a lot of them are unemployed - and I think that’s great. It’s great because they’re not settling for some shitty job because of pay. They’re living at home with moms and pops holding out for that job that’s gonna come along and be a good fit, or at the very least a great stepping off point and aim them in the basic direction they want to go. Some people are even working for free right now just because its in a field they’re interested in. How cool is that?

That’s why I always liked being around musicians. Musicians always seem to be focused on one thing: music. Yes they dream about landing sweet jobs like everyone, but at the same time the reason the jobs are so sweet is because they’re getting paid good money to play music. I love that.

I had a steady orchestra gig in Bucknell one semester with my buddy Dave and we had a great time driving there and they paid really well. One time Dave said to me “Imagine that fat bastard (the orchestra maestro) sittin’ right next to ya, slappin’ a dollar down on your leg every minute that went by. That’s what he’s doing!”

And it was true. We were getting paid a dollar a minute to play in an orchestra. We didn’t even play that much during some rehearsals.

The lot of you, like me, who are struggling looking for jobs - I know, it seems desolate. But it could be worse. You could’ve made a choice, taken a job you didn’t want, and be wondering “what if?” I emplore the lot of you who have gotten slighlty off course to take a real risk. Step back towards the direction you wanted to go. I want to see all my friends be happy in what they do and really let work become a part of your identity. Not because its something that drags you in, but because it makes sense. Becuase it SHOULD be part of who you are because of who you were before you took the job.

For those of you who are uninformed or ill-informed, Euro Trip is one of the funniest movies of all time. Thusly it has entered into a sacred land. A land where there are certain rules that MUST be followed and if they aren’t your peers chide you endlessly. A land where alcoholic beverages dictate whether or not you will stand later in the evening. Here are the rules to enter that land; to play drinking Euro Trip:

Drink Whenever:

- Someone says “Scotty doesn’t know.”
- Cooper gets a call from, or calls, his office.
- The twins are “bad twins.”
- Jenny (the female twin) has to remind the guys that she is a girl.
- The lead soccer hooligan hurls an ethnic slur at someone.
- Cooper says “parked my car.”
- Jaime (the male twin) consults his Frommer’s book.
- You see a nipple.
- The kids move to a different country than the one they were just in.
- One of the main kids drinks.
- Bart (scotty’s little brother) mocks or corrects Scotty.
- Scotty gets an email.
- Fred Armisen says “Mi Scusi.”

Got more? Let me know and I will add them.

Today I got a junk e-mail with the title of this post as it’s subject. For those of you who are disinclined to gaze upward for the less-than-one second it would take to read it, here it is again:

Upgrade Your Brain with Brain Bullet!

I laughed my ass off. Then as I was chasing my fleeing ass down a hill I tripped, fell on a rock, hit my head, and landed squarely on my ass with the idea to write a post about the Brain Bullet without actually reading the junk email. Here then, is that post.

——–start fake email———-

Upgrade Your Brain with Brain Bullet!

Are you tired of going to work everyday, doing the same old job and making the same old mistakes time and again? Do you have trouble remembering people’s names? Do you have to look at a restaraunt menu one or two times before you decide what you want? Do the easy answers come hard for you? Does it take you extended periods of time to become skilled at particular skills?

If you answered “yes” to any of these questions, or if you answered “no” to all of them, then our product is for you!

What happens during your everyday life is your brain slowly learns your body’s idioms and habits. It then forces you into these habits making it impossible for you to change. That means you need an upgrade.

If you’ve tried upgrading your brain in the past and found it a “tricky mess,” then worry no more. Brain Bullet is a quick operation that even the most mentally sluggish of apes has been able to perform.

Unlike other bullets, the brain bullet is specifically designed for your brain. Here’s how it works:

Your brain upgrade kit includes the “upgrade implantation device”

and not one, but TWO brain bullets!

Then, from the comfort of your own home, you upgrade your brain! Simply sit in your most comfortable chair, aim the upgrade implantation device at your head, pull the “injection lever,” and voi la!

No more painful memories. No more forgetting people’s names. Some even claim to have discovered whether or not there is really a God using Brain Bullet!

Now here’s the kicker. If Brain Bullet doesn’t completely satisfy you, just call us and we’ll refund your money! In fact, we’ll refund 3 times your money!

Still not convinced? Here are some testimonials from people who have used Brain Bullet -

“I was constantly worried about money, but now that I have brain bullet…
*BANG*
auuuuuuuuaghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
-Betty Sanders, WI

“My cholesterol was through the roof. I’ve decided to give brain bullet a try….
*BANG* OH GOD! OH MY GOD IT HU—*BANG*”
-Ted Thomas, MA

WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR! GET DIALING NOW! BRAIN BULLET IS NOT AVAILABLE IN STORES!

—–end fake email——-

Anyway that was just ONE of my stupid ideas today. Also, don’t buy Brain Bullet.

of being drunk, I figured I’d post a quick link. This is an mp3 of a voice mail I left for Stumpy one night a few years ago. Hope you enjoy it.

Stumpy’s Voicemail