So I broke down and bought the last known case of Endurance Vitamin Water on the planet. I’m not certain its the last case, but the four previous orders I made from here, here, here and here all came back “canceled due to insufficient stock”. I found the unofficial last case of Endurance from a wine store on Amazon that had a one-star rating. They stated they had mixers of every known variety and promised to track down any beverage for your mixing needs. So I figured either they were true to their word and they indeed had a time machine that could go back to 2007 or they were just going to write “Endurence” on 24 bottles of Clearly Canadian. Sure I paid 50 bucks for it, but what’s 50 bucks in a mountain of debt? Although Coca-Cola sources say Endurance will be returning to markets soon, it apparently will be released as a whole new flavor (meaning tons more sugar to appeal to the masses) and so I don’t want a dozen MMS messages of images of Endurance at Giant going for 1.25 a bottle in three months -its not the same stuff. Once I’m done drinking all two dozen of my discontinued brethren I’m sure I will have wished I spent my money on this instead.

In the meantime I plan to sit in the darkness of my basement cedar closet on top of my mountain of Endurance with a loaded rifle and no shirt on to protect my bounty until they come for it. Who you ask? Oh trust me… you’ll see…. you’ll see.

I know everyone in the world except me saw Dark Knight this weekend so don’t take personal offense if you truly enjoyed your 33 dollar trip to Regal Cinema to catch the non-sold out 11:07 showing. I’m sure you had a great time as apparently this film is the greatest piece of modern cinema every captured by man. Rotten Tomatoes gives it a 97% fresh rating with the only reviewers who disliked it coming from “Pink Is The New Blog” and the Detroit Gay Blade. IMDB also has weighed in, giving the film a #3 best of all time according to current voting:

I should point out that if that image above was larger you would find Wall-E at #19, which is 7 in front of the 1992 Best Picture/Director/Actor/Actress/Writer winner The Silence of the Lambs. Granted, IMDB has been known to make mistakes at the hands of its millions of middle school aged preteen users, just note Step Up 2’s glowing reviews for confirmation, but this is a tremendous rave for a movie that had a lot to live up to, including marketing tie-ins from BOTH Domino’s and Pizza Hut.

It may just be that good of a film. I don’t know, I haven’t seen it. I do know that Heath Ledger is dead - and people want to give him an Oscar now. It makes me wonder if Three Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Moutain would have warranted critical acclaim if Mathew Botuchis had overdosed in his trailer during filming (appologies to whichever reader still has his Tiger Beat mega poster taped to the side of their ferret’s cage).

I suppose I just look back at so many movies that people say were fucking awesome and then by the time they make it DVD I don’t see them scooping up copies to give out to friends at Christmas or renting to enjoy again and again. I REALLY want Dark Knight to be as good as everyone claims, at least as good as Batman and Robin… because I watched Batman Begins again on Friday (when Dark Knight was sold out for the midnight show) and it really wasn’t all that great like I remembered, well except for this.

Disclaimer: I will be seeing the Dark Knight in IMAX sometime soon.

UPDATE: Apparently I should apologize to all films, maybe even the entire art institution. “Hey Claude Monet - taste my bat cock!” (throws small bat-shaped graphite sphere at Sistine Chapel - explosion ensues) - and yes I’m aware that it was Donatello who painted that - and yes again I’m aware that it was Michaelangelo who painted that - you fuckers are no fun today

Hating Dave Matthews has become as popular as donning a pink Red Sox cap. I have stuck by Dave Matthews Band for over ten years, dozens of live albums, and - as of Satuday night, twenty-five concerts. However, It seems Dave Matthews Band sucks, at least according to every bandwagon-trend fickle-fuck and well, just about anyone who has a friend who loves Dave Matthews. In reality, he only sucks because he is just too fucking awesome for mortals to understand. Only Jesus, Raiden, and The Rocketeer can appreciate him fully. Though I am a mere mortal I do know a bit about the man Dave Matthews, and his awesomeness, and will admit I can’t get enough of him and his accompanying band. And yes, I realize that this makes me a breed of serious cocksucker known as the “intense band fan”. And I am aware an “intense band fan” is the type of person I would normally make fun of on this blog. But if you haven’t caught on by now, I’m a horribly hypocritical person. The truth is Dave is musical marijuana served inside a Chipotle tortilla filled with mint Dibs. Eating such a treat causes nothing short of piss-in-a-pepsi cup in broad daylight euphoria. Though, the same way some Red Sox fans shun the influx of pink cap wearing fans, I like to shun those Dave fans who live by the song “Crash In To Me”, own a hemp necklace, and think Will Farrel is still amusing. Understand that, like with Boston’s pink hats, it’s not so much the objects but what they represent, the whole “Red Sox Nation” concept reminds some people of that other team with a huge fan base and no one wants the Sox to become that, even though it is already too late (I’ll admit I’m part of the problem…).

Too Much: Red Sox fans are suffering from identity crisis and the growing pains of a fan base trying to redefine itself, it is something Dave fans can empathize with. Dave fans have been tormented for over a decade by bearing the load of trendy assholes who for some reason gravitated to DMB. Whether it be Phish fans desperately seeking a new place where “shrooming” among massive crowds is considered acceptable, midlife crisis soccer parents driving their cherry red Sebring convertible in to the show and using VIP parking, or pooka-shelled yuppie hipster fucks bouncing in to the show with their Jimmy Fallon bed-head reeking of Abercrombie stenchs while holding hands with emaciated aviator-wearing girlfriends who like the show “The Hills” - the cycles of these assholes seems to go on perpetually but *true* Dave fans remain loyal despite the bad eggs.

Pink versus Green: I really can’t be all that cocky about my DMB fandom… I haven’t followed a Dave tour with the vigor of many fans, nor have I paid more than 20 bucks for a ticket, and come to think of it I guess I do own a green Red Sox hat… a green hat is almost as bad as a pink hat so my Sox fandom isn’t any better off either. Fortunately, I think I jumped on the Sox bandwagon when there was still a few good seats left on the truck bed and back at that time I received open arms from old school Boston fans willing to add one more sorry sack of shit with a hatred of the Yankees to their fan base- with understanding that a World Series win would never happen. With that comparison, I think I understand my place in the DMB fan continuum… I’m squarely in the Dave Matthews counterpart of the category of “somewhat-legitimate fan but-can-be-dethroned by anyone from Boston”. I am humbled.

Wrapping up a post that clearly is aimed at masking a self proclamation of myself and a trip to a 25th Dave show, I can thank my sister for first subjecting me to Dave in 1994 (via Oakton Toker Team’s spring break drive to Ocean City) and since that first exposure there are certain Dave Matthews Moments which I feel the need to document in no particular order and of no interest to any of the 4 people who read this blog:

1. Is that a manatee? (2001)
Swain and I went to RFK to initially tailgate and ended up trading ciggerrettes and a handful of singles to get in to the show, only to rush the floor and be within 10 yards of the stage. We couldn’t stop raving.

2. Perfect Things (2007)
Dave Matthews + Lane Stadium = Heaven (if it rained Chipotle)

3. Clouds rolled over our heads (2000)
Rained the entire show at RFK and Dave played for four hours causing property value in SE Washington to rise 3%.

4. Swiss Missed (2001)
An illicit night ended with listening to Lillywhite Sessions on the roof of a villa in Switzerland while the sun rose. I lost my left shoe and may have shat in a bidet.

5. Lost Wages (2007)
Two shows back-to-back in Vegas with Katie and Andyman. Itinerary: Gamble, drink frozen 190 proof daquiri, see Dave Matthews, eat breakfast buffet, play horsey game, prostitute, see Dave Matthews, eat live bear.

6. Saturday (2008)
Are we assholes? Lets check the tally - Came to show without tickets? Check. Parked in handicap lot? Check. Refused to pay more than 20 a ticket? Check. Snuck in our own alcohol? Check. Pissed on lawn? Check.

Well back when I graduated from college I was to say the least “out of shape” (a tub of shit if you will) and to counteract the effects of four years of binge drinking and pokey sticks I went on an insane health kick that ended with before and after pics being posted online in the early days of dic tailgate.

As of midnight June 22nd, I have just concluded a second round of lunacy, this time to attempt to remove the damage that State College wreaked upon my body in the form of Lion’s Head beer, Sheetz MTO and those fucking pokey sticks again. My health changes centered around a one-month-long diet that eliminated all saturated fats and sugars from my diet and focused heavily on leafy greens and shockingly NO CHIPOTLE. Though I didn’t stay absolutely 100% true, It was pretty damn close … I think I can excuse that trip to Chipotle and the piece of funnel cake I had in celebration of Manny’s 500th homerun.

As was the practice last time around I will now post the effects of my month of eating rabbit crap. Other than the results shown in the picture I no longer own any shorts that stay on my ass without the use of a belt.

And yes, I will be eating Chipotle for lunch.

Though I have sent this news and accompanying video to many of you, Spore, the video game, is Will Wright’s “Sim Everything” manifesto which has been in the works for nearly a decade. This week a demo of one aspect of the game, Creature Creator, went online for free download. Already people have been giving the game the respect and admiration it deserves…

Eat that Sim Tower.

UPDATE: Apparently theres a video of a Jeff Butt monster which reacts to seeing someone eating his string cheese without asking, and then becomes depressed upon realizing it was the last one in the package.

In the bad storms that came through Northern Virginia yesterday there was 90 MPH gusts of wind and while I was watching the storm out the garage door we lost one of our proudest trees. I thought the force was worth putting pictures up of.

I’m sure that there are plenty of ‘necks in Vienna who can’t wait to chop this baby up or trade services for a few DIP arrests. To date I don’t think there are any ax-wielding killers on the lose in the area so any trade of service should be on the up-and-up.

As many of you know, I refuse to spend a lot of money on getting my hair cut… in fact I usually spend nothing and opt to cut my hair in my boxers over the bathroom sink or outside if the weather is nice (still in boxers only). Well, with all the time spent finishing school, together with the lack of being mailed SuperCuts coupons and scrapping the barrel to save money, I had gone almost 3 months without a proper hair trimming. All of that changed today as I joined the world of the social haircutting elite and ventured to a man salon at Tyson’s II (that’s the one that’s always empty except for the Persian Terrorists and people waiting 2 hours to eat Cheesecake Factory).

I felt a bit uneasy, almost nauseated, at the thought of spending $50 on a haircut – but I figured I had saved so much money on avoiding a haircut since spring break and I need to start looking presentable to practice law - which meant I had to stop using Dark And Lovely Relaxer on my hair and finally get a hairstyle which would be acceptable to mainstream society.

When I arrived at this man salon, I was approached by a woman who welcomed me as “Mister Phillips” – a far cry from my usual routine of spinning a piss encrusted keyboard around to type in my first name and wait among stacks of old Road And Track magazines for the next available and clearly pregnant redneck to call me up for a 10 minute jaunt in the world of Wahl electric hair trimming. I was offered a drink, which I politely refused until I realized they meant a REAL drink… after seeing the Maker’s Mark and Johnny Walker bottles along a wet bar stocked with cold wine, beer, and IBC root beer I put my finger in the air and tranformed in to the type of person who would never be caught dead in a Man Salon …“Ahhh Ahhh Ummm Yes, can I have some of that liquor, its free right? Uhh Yeah Hmmmm.” Fuck it, I didn’t care, I saw it as a chance to drink my haircut in to a fucking bargain. My stylist, Sunshine, was a ray of just that. We were talking about travel, politics, even fishing in Alaska – again a far cry from nodding insanely and uncomfortably at the indiscernible mumbles of a woman renamed to an American palatable name like “Kim” who likely has no driver’s license and even more likely has no license to be operating sharp objects near human skin.

The entire (scissors only) cut lasted nearly an hour and included a hot lather neck shave, warm face towel, a face, back and neck massage (sadly lasting all of 2 min), shampoo and deep conditioner. I was pretty toasted by the time I left the place too. “Mister Phillips” then had to go to an ATM since they don’t take tips on a credit card. The ATM task took me 30 minutes and I was on such a high that I almost bought a Zegna suit for 29 hundred dollars but being charged a $2.00 ATM fee brought me back to Earth. Coming out $50 lighter for 20 ounces of less hair, I can’t say I’ll be returning every month, but I think when you are chopping off that much off your Jew you can allow for a little splurge.

I made it to the part of the series where you get done with school but I really don’t know which adventure to choose next.

After completing Choose Your Own Adventure #14 “Law School Seems Aight” I figured I had to go on to #15 “Summer In A Bedroom That Looks Like Bombay Company shat a Build-A-Bear” but now do I choose to go to page 39 and spend my last ten dollars on a haircut or skip back to page 8 and buy yet another Chipotle burrito (an obvious follow up on the ending to #11 “You Fat Fucking Fattie: Eating And Sleeping Makes You Fat”)?

I am pleased that I bought in to #14 and that somewhere through the story I decided to choose the path to State College on page 711. However once at that part in the story I found myself in a continuous loop, turning to page 120, whereby I would get hammered and break kitchen table chairs. Eventually I simply ripped out page 120 and read the commencement chapter which followed. I know it ruins the story but I have actually skimmed ahead in book #15 and I noticed that almost all the options end with “Turn to page 3 and study your ass off”, so really it seems like Summer might end up being a rather boring read.

Three years of re-learning how to binge drink will culminate tomorrow afternoon in the streets of State College. Some may consider it just “two idiotic old men drinking” but for us it is a release from the past three years of classes and a celebration of an accumulated $100,003 debt. It kind of reminds me of the time when I, along with a group of 12, climbed Mount Doom in an attempt to throw the one ring into the fiery pits of Mordor from whence it came. The only difference here is that we are walking in attempt to throw up at least one time, and instead of Sméagol we get Todd Kline. There will no doubt be other competing bar crawls of undergraduate sorority girls and custom t-shirt circles of friends all trying to sleep with the same mediocre girl, but our crawl has the unique ability to sue under the dramshop act if we are served past our limits. Not to worry however, chances are good that the group will blow its load within the first 2 bars and will be in bed before SNICK starts.

Learn more at our green $2.99 website:
http://www.ryanandjonsjurisprukencebartourinstatecollege.info/

Well at least UVA lost that other tournament - yeah there is one worse than the NIT.