Paging Wesley Crusher...

When I was a kid Wesley Crusher, a character on Star Trek:The Next Generation, was my hero. He was living my dream! Not only did he get to live on a galaxy-class federation starship, he got to be an acting ensign!! I realize that, by now, this blog post has largely alienated many of my blog-reading public. "wesley who?" some are asking.."Star Trek? we thought Jerry was cool!" others say.

Well, okay maybe they aren't saying that.

anyway, while watching season one of ST:TNG yesterday I was inspired. What had become of the boy genius we, as young nerds, had so thoroughly idolized? The only contemporary work I could remember involving Wil Wheaton (the actor who portrayed the young ensign crusher) was a brief cameo on an episode of the abc hit CSI in which he portrayed a mentally challenged and possibly homicidal homeless man named Walter. Hardly the future I had envisioned for the enterprising (pun very intended) young ensign. I decided to dig deeper and contacted two of my most reliable sources...google and Wikipedia.

As it turns out Wil Wheaton is doing rather well for himself and, oddly enough, seems like a pretty cool guy. How do I know this? well...I hit up wikipedia, read all the bio crap on imdb.com (which revealed such career highlights as a Jell-O commercial opposite Bill Cosby and, of course, his role in the film adaptation Stephen Kings classic "Stand by Me") and pursued a few sites created by dedicated (if not downright insane) fans. I learned facts, I read about roles on TV shows and in video games, learned about frequent contributions to slashdot.org, and then finally stumbled upon Wil's personal, and frequently updated, blog.

After reading a few entries I was surprised by how normal this former child star seemed....nowhere to be found were the torrid tales of three-week-long coke binges with Corey Feldman. Nor any mention of a "special" relationship with masked, unigloved global pop stars. I read on and, somewhere between an amusing account of a failed attempt to make a grilled cheese sandwich and his choice of Death Cab for Cuties "Transatlanticism" as one of his musical favorites, I almost forgot that I wasn't reading one of my friends blogs. It was, however, this quote in response to what movie he would make if he had unlimited funding that made up my mind about Mr. Wheaton:

my dream is Watchmen as twelve two hour episodes: the first 90 minutes would be the main story, and the last 30 minutes would be Hollis Mason's book, and Tales of the Black Freighter

(if you have not read the graphic novel "The Watchmen" you are seriously missing out. go buy, borrow, or steal it. you won't be sorry...unless you go for the "steal" option and get caught...then you might regret it a little...you know what? I digress...)

Shit yes.

And yes, I was supposed to be working. Deal with it.

Now, those of you that know me know that I generally don't give two shit about the lives and careers of celebrities or TV personalities. This is because, on the general whole, the bloated "cool kids" clique that is American celebrity is just as vapid and self-involved as the aforementioned example was when we were in high school. I am also not some weird, Trek obsessed fan boy...well, not all the time anyway.

So, why am I mentioning this? What is the point? Well, aside from the weird internet day dream that someday Wil might google him name, stumble upon this blog, and send me some kind of E-High Five...

Well..none, really. I guess I just think it is cool that someone that I was impressed by as a kid turns out to actually be a decent, intelligent person.

Way to go Mr. Wheaton. Maybe someday I can buy you a beer.

Kansky out.

[also I have a new Photoblog that I send pictures to pretty much all damn day due to my obsession with this new-fangled phone. check it out if you have a sec. okay..later]

The REAL Nascar on Ice. Really.

Okay faithful blogscribers...first, let me apologize for the HUGE gap between this post and the previous ones. As it turns out, when my wife is in town, I am nearly 100% content with the world and, as well all know, this state of happiness ruins all attempts at maintaining any kind of creative rhythm. weird.

anyhow, here am I at work. It still sucks. No real surprise there.

I got a new phone and it rules the earth...It takes pictures (with a flash no less), records video, has a qwerty keyboard for speed and ease of text messaging and emails, plays rad games like the Doom RPG (sweet!!), and some other stuff. Oh, and it also makes and receives phone calls. This is probably the least used function of said phone. Seriously.

Last night I was enjoying a beverage at the Clever Dunnes when Joe, a friend that I forged a relationship with based largely on our common love for smart-ass answers to myspace surveys, heard me refer to hockey as "Nascar on ice". He immediately began to excitedly explain that hockey was, in fact, Not Nascar on Ice but, rather, some new Olypic sport called "Skeleton", which is some kind of crazed mix between "suicide by bobsled" and the Luge upside-down and backwards, was the true holder of the aforementioned title. This would have been noteworthy in and of itself. The weird part was that, during Joe's animated description of the sport, no less than three complete freakin' strangers wandered into our conversation and excitedly exclaimed "Are you Dudes talkin' 'bout skeleton?? Shit Yeah!!"

Apparently I am the only person on earth that has never heard of this sport. Anyhow, the long and short of it is I agree to print a retraction of my previous "Nascar on Ice" statement on this blog post. So here it is:

"Skeleton" is the One, TRUE Nascar on Ice forever and ever Amen.

Also, Today I have randomly had Foreigner's "Jukebox Hero" stuck in my head all day and I think my co-workers have gotten a little tired of my constant falsetto belting of "It's just ooooone guitaaaaaar!!!. I don't care. I AM a jukebox hero.

and they can shut it.

Later.

The married life (Episode 1):Hot meals and haircuts

Man oh MAN, aside from 8 hours of soul crushing office work, yesterday was the best valentines day Ever! When I got home my lovely wife had cooked me a huge meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. It was amazing. In fact, it was so amazing that I even ate the leftovers for lunch today. After dinner Melinda gave me an awesome new haircut and then we snuggled up in our warm bed, complete with new flannel sheets, and watched downloaded VCDs of season 4 of one of our favorite shows, 24.

This morning we woke up early and just hung out in the apartment together. As previously stated, my baby packed me a lunch and then we drove off to work on a new route my wife discovered that seriously shaved like 40 minutes off my commute. After dropping me off my wife then went to teach small children in a friends elementary class about Korea based off her own recent travels to the country.

so...
Makes me food. Check.
Takes care of me. Check
Is good with mapquest.Check.
Is a hero to small children.Check
Puts up with my shit.Check.

yep. Best wife ever. So THERE!

Tonight she is making Hawaiian Pizza and then we watch a new episode of LOST. *sigh* could my life get any more awesome? Answer=NO.

later..

Observations from the animal kingdom.

In the animal kingdom the weak, sick, and elderly are routinely pushed to the outer fringe of the herd to provide a "buffer of uselessness" protecting the young, productive core of the population from attacks by predators. This system ensured that the healthiest, most capable members were at the core of the herd making all the tough decisions...like, what field to crap in and whether or not to terrorize all those tan landrovers full of gawking pale-skinned tourists. It was a flawless system,

And yet, humanity has somehow forgotten its primal instincts and, instead, has embraced a system quite the opposite. Want proof? turn on the T.V. Go ahead, do it. You will see a world that heartily embraces and protects the "rights" of every right-wing wackjob advocating summary stake-burnings for members of the "Eternal witches coven of homosexuality" and every left wing radical In favor of teaching the virtues man-on-pumpkin sex in Americas classrooms.

Have a moderate and intelligent position on running the nation that seamlessly blends the strong points of all parties in the interest of national unity forged in the spirit of compromise? EDGE OF THE HERD!!

However, if on the next episode of your FOX TV show you will be showcasing "gun-toting Nazi midgets of the Miami underground racing scene", please step right this way to the center of the herd!!

Okay. I'm done with the rant now.

This weekend at the Camlin with Melinda was amazing; easily the most fun I have had in a very long time. The highlight of the trip had to be watching my wife create ingenious methods for making grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and pasta with marinara sauce using only the burner from a coffee pot, a cutting board, and a tiny microwave. While the pasta left something to be desired, the grilled cheese was amazing.

Tonight I'll be going home to homemade meatloaf. Meatloaf, people!! My wife is amazing!

aaaaaaaand I'm out!

My baby's back!

...for a little while, anyway and I am very very happy about it! Our appartment fianlly feels like a home now that my wife is sharing it with me.

Last night The 4cp played a show at the El Corazon Downtown and It was the most like "a band" I have ever felt with this new group. It really lifted my spirits and further stoked my excitement about things to come.

Now, as much I as I want to spend my day blogging about stuff, Melinda and I are going to spend the next two nights at the Camlin Hotel, Downtown so we are off to buy groceries and assorted items for this, our valentine weekend.

So if this post seems rushed and brief...that is why.

blog to you soon.

Friday Facts!!!

I don't really have anything interesting to say today so, instead, I am going to leave you with this collection of Friday Facts!

Fact #1
It is common knowledge that my friend and bandmate Winston McClain used to look just like Davey Havok complete with vinyl pants and a jet black devilock. But do you know why he suddenly became the "Emo Dicaprio" we all know and love? Was it a girl that turned him emo? Was it something he ate? The Government perhaps?

NO!

Winston turned from his Mc-Evil ways due to the rapid onset of a severe allergy to the chemicals in black hair dye...and everyone knows you can't be goth with blond hair. I don't care what the bass player from AFI has to say about it.

Fact #2
That crap you frat buddies used to sell you about "Beer before liquor, never sicker, liquor before beer, never fear" is complete fucking bullshit.

Ask Yahoo says:
Portland's Willamette Week interviewed a nutrition expert and a pharmacologist; both nixed the theory. They astutely note that mixing different types of alcohol is generally a bad idea. The reasoning behind the proverb is that it's easier on your body to absorb weaker alcoholic drinks, like beer, later in the evening. This probably holds some merit. It's also true that your body tends to process alcohol from carbonated drinks faster. But any piece of advice regarding alcohol consumption that contains the line "never fear" is obviously pretty suspect.

I read this on The internet. Clearly, this makes it true.

Fact #3
When my best friend, Casey and I high-five time stops for a nanosecond as all of nature holds its breath in the presence of our awesomeness.

And you know that's true. Because I Said it.

Peace Outside!!

The Comrade Rodriguez

Sometimes all you need is your best friend and a bottle of bourbon. Thanks Casey, you made all the shit that’s dragging me down seem a little lighter. Ben, Jermaine, thanks for being my brothers, last night was just like old times. Perfect.

So, as you may have guessed, I hung out in Seattle last night with my boys. I've been down in the dumps due to some shit that's out of my hands and I needed a night in the city with my brothers to get me back on the level.

I went straight from work to Casey's apartment and just sat on the couch with a perfectly poured bourbon and seven. There is no way to explain the easy, relaxed relationship of a friend as close to me as Casey. All I can say is that it was just what I needed last night. We hung out for a few hours and laughed about old times at camp amazing and old high school nonsense before we made our way down to Ben's Restaurant for a few more rounds, some good company, and what was, quite possibly, the most amazing chicken alfredo in the universe.

Among the many conversations we had last night, one of us told the story about one of Caseys Ill-fated custom drink creations from years back called the "Senor Stalin", named for its mixture of the Russian (vodka) and the Mexican (Salsa)...and nothing else. Greg, the bartender who seems determined to make the nickname "Petite Burger" stick to me due to my fondness for that particular Red Robin "secret" menu choice, declared that he would make us a round of "his take" on the Senior Stalin on the house. Although it was frightening proposition, it was not one we could turn down and Greg immediately went about collecting the ingredients for the shots.

The finished product looked very much like a small amount of vomit suspended in a shot glass full of vodka. Not surprisingly, it had a very similar taste and texture that left the lot of us gagging in-between long pulls off our respective water glasses. Casey got the worst of it when he lost the "rhyme game" and was heavily peer pressured into drinking the extra shot that Greg had poured in observance of "The unknown drunkard". We named this drink the Comrade Rodriguez and promised to use it only to initiate new members and punish the wicked. It is not a thing to be trifled with.

Still reeling and gagging from the unkind effects of the "Comrade" we made our way up to Linda’s. I stayed there for a little over an hour and then made my way home with a much lighter heart then when I had arrived. its good to know who your friends are. Very good indeed.

This is your Blog...

I know I should be asleep but I've been listening to Elton John for over an hour and trying to figure out why I seem to have lost my ability to write or sing anything I don't hate.

And, I know I haven't written about much since the hockey game...actually I haven't written about anything at all. Brief update: the superbowl was a bummer, ryans party was not (the clam dip was amazing and playing call of duty 2 on the Xbox 360 with Jim, Ryan and Keith was freaking great). Practice last night was both good and bad and today has not been much different. there, we're all caught up.

It’s not that I don't have anything to say....I have a lot to say but none of it should be said here. The things that are eating at me day and night should stay in the dark where I keep them and I'd rather write nothing than shit out some pandering small talk about the trivial minutia that fills the pregnant silences between the things that keep me from sleeping.

Some genuinely concerned person told me today that "A door is never closed without a window being opened". I get where they are coming from but, It just seems like, in the long dark hallway of how I'm feeling tonight, there alot of closed doors and fewer and fewer windows to make all of this worth it.

Sorry for being dramatic, I'm just very confused, hurt, and alone at the moment and I guess I though writing a vague and self-centered blog would make me feel a little better.

Yeah, I was wrong. Back to the self-flagellation of comparing myself to the greatest of classic rock anthems.

Nascar on ice

Oh holy lord. Last night, I fell in love with hockey.

After work last night I made a brief stop at my parents house to eat some home made meatloaf with my dad. I was on my way home for an uneventful night of watching a tivo'd episode of Battlestar Galactica when Jordan called me up and invited me to a Seattle Thunderbirds hockey game at Key arena and since I lacked any real plans for the evening, I agreed to meet them at the game. I then invited my buddy Ethan to tag along, he agreed, and we made our way to the Key for a night of mullets and mayhem!

After a particularly traffic-hindered drive from Sammamish to Seattle, Ethan and I picked up our comped tickets at the will call window and joined the rest of the Seattle hockey crowd shuffling into the arena. Once inside, Ethan and I were rendered speechless by the almost dangerous concentration of mullets and beer guts that seemed to afflict nearly 80% of the sports fans that surrounded us.

It was at this moment that we ran into Kevin and Jordan as they stumbled towards the outdoor smoking section on perilously unsteady drunken legs. Kevin was already well into a blackout drunk and, since it was only 8pm and he had already drunkenly accosted several total strangers on his way to the smoking section, I got the feeling that my night was about to get much more interesting.

Our seats were amazing. Were only about 20 feet from the Ice; close enough to hear bones crack as players were repetitively body-checked against the Plexiglas barrier between the crowd and ring. Ethan and I amused ourselves by inventing our own remarkably generic sports cheer (we would simply jump to out feet and yell "SPORTS!!" at opportune moments)and by frequently turning to each other and exclaiming "We're at a hockey game!!" and then collapsing into a fit of nerdy, nerdy giggles.

By the time the second period had started Kevin had managed to reach the nearly impossible to achieve state of "too drunk for a hockey game" and was loudly berating the row of fans in front of us because they were, as he so eloquently phrased it, "FUCKING EMO HIPPIE CANUCKS". Brilliant. It was at this point that Jordan, also far to drunk to be in a public place, finally lost his evening-long battle with beer-induced nausea and deposited the majority of his dinner and drinks back into several empty plastic cups which he then hid beneath his seat.

Kevins belligerence reached critical mass when the remote controlled "prize blimp" floated near our seats and denied him one of the fabulous prizes hidden within its nylon exterior. Enraged by being passed over for free extra large Thunderbirds t-shirt or foam beer cozy , Kevin decided to voice his frustration by stealing a full bottle of Pepsi from the 13 year-old boy to his left and hurling it at the blimp. At this point his relationship with the surrounding sports fans went from "mild annoyance" to "soon-to-be-dead honky". When a fist fight between Kevin and the child's justifiably infuriated father seemed inevitable security took this as Kevins cue to leave and, admidst his drunken assertions of his 4th amendment rights, escorted him out of the arena.

I must admit that this epic display of maturity and wit put a momentary damper on the night for me. Then, for the first time in my life, I witnessed the pure beauty that is the Zamboni Ice groomer. The third quarter started and I was back in the game. The 'birds closed the gap and tied up the score and the game went into overtime. The crowd was insane and I found myself on my feet with everyone else screaming at the top of my lungs with every shot. The opposing teams goalie, a kid with the very unfortunate last name of "Sexsmith" was subjected to an amazing amount of heckling by the drunken band of hockey fans behind us who chanted his name for impossibly long stretches of time and occasionally hurled comments like "I really care about you, Sexsmith" and "Blocking shots with your apron doesn't count, Sexsmith". It was amazing.

Long story short: The Thunderbirds won, the crowd went crazy, and we walked back to the squad chanting Seeeeeexsmiiiiith at the top of our lungs as a jubilant victory cry. Upon arriving we ate Liz Dobsons amazing spaghetti, drank root beer, and played several rousing rounds of Boggle. Ethan and I then took the long walk up to Lindas and enjoyed several well deserved bottles of High-life with Casey, Leiah, Mildred, and Andrew.

We briefly hit a house party after the bars closed but I was exhausted from the Hockey game and drove home at around 3. All in All, a great time with great friends.

Now I am off to a SuperBowl party at Ryans....If I keep this up people might start thinking I'm a sports fan or something.

weird...

Inside Jokes?? WTF is Jerry blogging about now??

I returned to work today and, after three days gone, I had a pile of work a mile high to take care of. Still, after my being couch-ridden for the better part of a week, even being at work was a welcome change. My day was uneventful, my work is mind numbing, and I feel like every day I spend here is a day lost.

My job is 9 hours of spinning my wheels.

For some reason, I’ve been thinking about Camp Amazing a lot today. I’m fairly sure it’s because I used it as an example in a conversation about exactly how much time you have between failing to pay your utility bills and the actual shut off of services. Those of you who were there know what I’m talking about. The rest of you just think I’m a raving lunatic.

Anyway, the fond recollections of “robe day”, indoor gunfights, and Band Of Brothers marathons has led me to abandon the responsible notion of going home tonight in favor of a night of capitol hill shenanigans with my closest friends.

Really I just need to hear “Fiji” shouted in deafening unison immedietly before a blanket bombing of cherry bombs.

Oh yeah.

Fools! Morons! Heathens! (my feelings on TV)

Spent today on the couch again. I'm still sick but, no matter what, I'll be going to work tomorrow. I feel like anything over 3 days out may be pushing it.

I spent all day today watching VCDs of one of my favorite, now cancelled, sci-fi TV shows Space:Above and Beyond. It's kind of like a cross between Aliens and that old TV show combat! and as is true of all good shows on Fox (arrested development, Firefly, etc) it was canceled prematurely. Damn you Fox. Damn you.

Come to think of it, at the moment, I'm pissed at television networks in general. They've been betraying me left and right lately and I'm beginning to think they don't love me anymore. For instance, Wednesday night is always "Lost" night. I wait all week like a little kid for the next episode. It's one of the best parts of my week. Last night I was all set. I had my popcorn, my soda, and my couch all set up for an hour of suspense and intrigue on my favorite fictional island but, what should happen?? Re-Run!! A damned dirty re-run! I was crushed. It ruined my whole night.

I guess it wouldn't have stung so much if the same thing hadn't happen the night before when I sat down to watch "Scrubs". Again, betrayal!

I realize that this post is pure crap. This is what happens when I don't leave my apartment for days at a time. I promise that updates with some substance will return soon.

Oh, I may be facilitating a music video shoot to take place at my old highschool. More on that as it develops.

later.

Captains Blog...Supplemental

I won't lie to you. I am a huge Star Trek Fan...

I've seen every episode of every season of Star Trek, Star Trek:The Next Generation, and Deep Space Nine. Now, I know that publishing this fact on the internet will probably hurt me in the "Hippest Jack-ass on Capitol Hill" election primarys later this year but, if I can't be proud of my roots what can I be proud of? that's right.nothing.

Why am I wasting your time talking about Star Trek, you ask? Well, to be honest I had a good reason when I started writing this post but sometime during my search for the adorble picture posted above...I seem to have forgotten due to a particularlly funny comercial for Bacardi and Cola.



It would seem that, when it comes to derailing my blog posts, they get the job done.

One thing I do remember is that I found Wil Wheaton's personal blog/website.He was the boy genius on Star Trek: TNG that all of us kids would have killed someone to be. I realize that this discovery holds little or no interest to anyone but me and my fellow nerds, geeks, and trekkies but, still, I felt I would post it out of my lotalty to Star Trek Fandom.

anyhow. Still feeling like shit, might not make it to work again. Depends on how I feel.

Off to watch Lost

Later

Too sick to blog