Friday, January 5

Evan Takes A Vacation.

(Note from the CDP: The following post was written entirely by Evan, the Official Spokesbaby of the CDP. Any expressed opinions are his own, and do not necessarily represent the opinions of the CDP. He merely wanted to discuss his recent vacation in an open and public forum.)

Evan Sez: Merry Christmas!

Happy New Year, bitches!

Man, the holidays stressed me out big time, yo. Adults was everywhere, gettin' all up in my business, pickin' me up and ticklin' me and s***. Is every Christmas like this?

Pshhh, anyway...

I needed to have a few weeks to myself, you know? Just to kick back in a hotel somewhere, let the concierge change my diaper every hour on the hour, and watch a little Nick Jr. on the hotel television.

"F*** this s***," I said. "I'm going to Vegas."

Evan Sez: Double Down!

The Vegas chicks were all up in my grill, probably because I was straight rocking my CDP t-shirt (available at the CDP webstore in all sizes and colors). The pit boss brought out a special stool for me and everything. I was suckin' back strained carrot martinis out of a baby Pimp Cup all damn night.

Evan Sez: You're Teh Gey!

I met these two fruit boots on the way back to my suite. They was all, "Vaht is a baby doing crawling avound in dee hallvay by himself?" I had just about enough of their crap, so I kicked they asses shortly after I posed for this picture.

They old as hell, and the dude on the left smelled like pickles.

Evan Sez: I Didn't Pack A Suit!

I got sick of the scene after my first day in Vegas, so I took a cab to the ocean. Peeps on the west coast get me, you know? They laid back; nobody more laid back than me, though.

Evan Sez: Pray For Me!

Wack-ass shark didn't scare me. I popped that fool right in the nose, and he scurried away like a little bitch. He'll think twice the next time he decides to screw with Evan.

Evan Sez: I Refuse To Bathe!

I only spent a day in Paris. Those fools smell worse than me, and I'm constantly crawling around with fresh crap in my pants. That s*** is inexcusable.

Evan Sez: I Don't Believe In Animal Rights!

Dat' bull didn't know what hit him. I used my CDP Throw Pillow (available at the CDP webstore) to knock that fool straight off his game. Five minutes later, I was parading his heart around like a bowling trophy. Vegetarians can suck it; they don't know me.

Evan Sez: I Might Die!

I straight-up told that elephant a joke about his mom, and dis' is him laughing his ass off. He was pretty cool, though.

Evan Sez: I'm Teh Drunk!

Now that I've discovered beer, I found out that I don't need to leave my house to take a vacation. I just get straight-up ripped every night.

Shut up; y'all don't know me.

-Evan.

Thursday, January 4

Winner By Technical Geek Out.

MySuck.

Just a friendly reminder that MySpace will eventually kill you and defile your children.

In my never-ending quest to spend more money than I make, me and the Missus have once again joined a health club. For the Missus, this is a chance to be active and healthy in a close-to-home atmosphere; for me, it's a chance to develop my body into something resembling the UFC fighters I have grown to cherish and idolize. Oh, and a chance to pee in someone elses' shower for a change.

I'm either going to be ripped and certifiably sexy in weeks, or I'll develop a blood clot in my leg that eventually kills me in my sleep. Either way, I'll give you a full report once I get rolling.

By the way, these 'mini-blogs' will continue until I have enough time to start working on my many big CDP projects this year. Stay tuned.

Wednesday, January 3

As I Live And Breathe, You Have Killed Me.

President Of The Jamie Lee Curtis Fan Club.

Yesterday, the Missus remarked on how I like to walk around the house, wearing one of the several masks that I own, scaring her and the cats every chance I get.

This is true.

For the last few years, I've been making small transitions in my fashion sense, overall appearance and perception. In middle school, I was a flannel-wearing Nerd. In high school, I transitioned from Nerd to Punk, and slowly turned again from Punk to Sad Emo Kid.

I maintained this appearance for several years, before once again returning to my Nerd roots.

Within the last two years, I have abandoned the Sad Emo Kid/Nerd persona, mainly because I'm pushing 25 years of age. I've been recently going for a more 'take me seriously, but not too seriously' approach, boasting manly facial hair and hundreds of dollars worth of Urban Outfitters apparel. I want people to think that I'm a successful young man that listens to Indie rock and can still kick your ass in the clutch. It's hard to make people think all of those things based on the strength of just one dress ensemble.

What does this all have to do with the masks? Slow down, douchebag, and let me talk.

My next transition? Full-blown American Psycho.

It's a perfect fit. I can still wear the blazers, suits and argyle I've been filling my closet with, only now I get to scare people and potentially murder them. Let's face it, I've been teetering on the border for a long time now, it's due time I made the most of my abilities. My music tastes needn't change, I can still wear novelty shirts, and I get to throw in an axe-murder every week or so.

Thank goodness I already have the masks.

Sound off in the comments section and give me good advice as to how I can properly achieve this new persona.

Oh, and don't even pretend like that's not the coolest photo you've seen all day. Stare into my eyes for awhile; it's hypnotic and will likely cure your various ailments.

Tuesday, January 2

I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness.

You Can't See Me.

What Am I Doing?

Catching up on all of the books I need to read.
Working out in training for my upcoming UFC match.
Doing the work of three people at the office.
Not getting my stomach ulcer taken care of.
Being the best husband and friend I can possibly be.
Laying groundwork for the first CDP book.
Mourning the loss of James Brown & Brett Favre.
Looking forward to my mini-vacation next week.

With no new television on the air for the last two weeks, I've been able to dig into the stack of unread books that have been accumulating for the last six months. In addition to that, I'm doing my best to at least consider getting into better shape. With a new health club opening less than 100 yards from my house, I'm completely out of excuses. Considering my height, weight and metabolism, there's no reason why I shouldn't be kicking everyone's ass right about now.

January is the hardest month for me in the office, due to 2007 scheduling deadlines and other pointless piffle. I'll keep it brief and state that I'll be a much better guy to hang around come February. I'll probably get a raise, too.

Because nothing's harder than being a 24-year old white guy, I'm coping with what is now been proven to be an honest-to-goodness Peptic Ulcer. It keeps me up at night, it keeps me from eating before bed, and it's causing me to pop Tums and chug Pepto-Bismol like nobody's business. As you can imagine, I had been anticipating the moment my anxiety would start destroying me from the inside out for decades now. I'll go to the doctor soon, I promise.

At the end of the day, the Missus is my best friend, and one of the only people I actually want to participate in a conversation with. As logic would dictate, it makes sense to attempt to protect my assets and give her a reason to reciprocate the attention. I'm not always a great guy to be around, but I'm doing what I can to let her know that she's special and worthy of as much common decency as I can muster.

It's been nice not having to keep abreast of all the new television shows the last few weeks. Part of me wants to keep the TV off and focus on all of the other things I've had time for, but past behavior predicts that I'll be setting the TiVo like mad and giving up on all attempts at parallel creativity. At least I know who I am.

Whenever I get a few minutes to myself, I'm trying to compile and edit enough old and new CDP material to comprise a book. I've accomplished many goals in my life, but getting a full-length published novel has always been pushed aside for one reason or another. This is unacceptable, and I will cross it off of my list by the end of the year. Count on it, and buy a copy for your Mom.

The night after Brett Favre's father died, he proceeded to take the field against the Oakland Raiders, throw 4 touchdowns and pass for 399 yards. When interviewed afterwards, in what many people refer to as the most inspirational and emotional NFL performance in history, Brett was solemn but did not shed a tear. On Sunday night, when asked if he just played his last football game, Brett broke down on national television.

He's retiring, folks. It's over.

On January 12, 13 & 14, I'm leaving the state for a much-needed departure from everyone. I'll let you know how it goes.

Quick playoff predictions:

Wild Card:
Seattle over Dallas
Indianapolis over Kansas City
Philadelphia over New York Giants
New England over New York Jets

Divisional:
Chicago over Seattle
New Orleans over Philadelphia
Indianapolis over Baltimore
San Diego over New England

Conference:
Chicago over New Orleans
Indianapolis over San Diego

Super Bowl:
Chicago over Indianapolis

Later, kids. Sound off in the comments section and let us know what you're up to.

Monday, January 1

CDP Mailing & Contact Info.

Mailing & Contact Info.

If you wish to contact me outside of the CDP, you have a few options:

1. I can be e-mailed at communistdance@yahoo.com. I check my mail dozens of times a day, and I'll get back to you quickly. Be sure to make the subject heading something I won't delete by accident.

2. Facebook and Twitter are also pretty popular with the kids, as well.

3. If you prefer the Postal Service, I can be written to at the following:

theCDP.
PO Box 865
Sun Prairie, WI 53590

I check my PO Box a few times a month to process mail orders. If you write me something by hand, I'll probably write you back by hand. Mail me something cool, and I'll do the same.

I look forward to hearing from you.

How To Buy 65 Poor Life Decisions.

65 Poor Life Decisions - The CDP Book.

There are two ways you can order copies of 65 Poor Life Decisions, my debut book:

1. Directly through Lulu, by clicking on THIS LINK. It's safe, secure and simple. Cost is $15.95. If you're feeling charitable, feel free to leave me a 5-star review or any kind words while you're there.

2. Directly through me, which includes a copy of the book, shipping to anywhere in the nation, autographs/personalization and free CDP merch. Cost is $21, and we will accept money orders or well-concealed cash (no checks).

Send the $21, along with a return address, name to make the book out to, and e-mail address for delivery confirmation, to:

theCDP.
PO Box 865
Sun Prairie, WI 53590

If you are requesting a copy through me, and you live outside of the United States, please send $25 to cover extra shipping charges. American money or International money orders only, please.

If you are paying via money order, please make orders out to Ryan Zeinert, not 'theCDP.' Also, while money orders are traceable and secure, I can't be held responsible if your cash payment doesn't make it to my PO Box.

Thank you so much in advance; I really appreciate it.

"Man, Dick Clark Sounds Like He's Hammered."

Tinker, the Official CDP Spokescat.

Tinker, the Official CDP Spokescat, sez:

Happy New Year!

The 2006 holiday season caused the CDP to lose respect for almost everyone that he knows, causing temporary depression, confusion and an understandable lack of humor. When he's not forcing me into ill-fitting sweaters (designed for small dogs, mind you), he's swearing that he'll start the 2007 CDP season properly. Until then, he claims to be 'on vacation,' even though his real vacation doesn't start until January 11.

Whatever. As long as I get my food, he can claim to be the King of Goddamn England, for all I care.

He's not dead, however. He should be back soon. I crap in a box.

-Tinker.