Friday, December 31

Top 10 Of Everything.

So, I was all set to create something huge, a culmination of everything that was anything this year. However, looking back only solidified the truth that 2004 really wasn't all that good. In general, 2004 was terrible. War, natural disasters and another inbred hick in the White House.

2004 was a good year for me, though. So in the spirit of total and complete egotism (it's my page, after all), I decided to do a top 10 list devoted entirely to pictures of me, Ryan Zeinert.

#10 - Ryan heroically overcomes writers block and unemployment.

I was celebrating my 3rd month of unemployment writing a screenplay, when I hit the wall. I think this photo perfectly expresses what I was feeling. Icky, unshaven and allergic to showering. Thank goodness I found a decent job, or I might be writing for a living.

#9 - Ryan masterfully imitates Bat Boy.

There's this spot on the back of my neck that you're not allowed to touch. For some reason, it makes me cringe, and all the nerves in my face contort, forcing me to scream in terror. This should be all the backstory you need.

#8 - Ryan drinks heavily at Thayers.

This was during out first trip to Thayer's Historic Bed & Breakfast. I made sure that a bottle of Champagne was waiting in our room when we arrived. We had so much fun, we decided to get married for the sole purpose of coming back.

#7 - Ryan is a rebel, I'm told that the ladies like that.

If the sign says "Don't Touch", I'm still touchin'. The simple fact of the matter is that I'm dangerous, and you shouldn't hang out with me unless you want to live on the edge. (I wrote a formal apology to the city of New Glarus, and sent them a check for $250 to remove my fingerprints from the ceramic cow.) This is without question the most rebellious thing I've ever done on camera, so don't bother searching Google for "Ryan Zeinert sex tape", or anything like that. Please don't do that.

#6 - Ryan is a voice for the voiceless.

I run a little charitable organization from my apartment called "Tails of Giving", which saves homeless and abandoned cats from a dangerous life on the streets. Through donations, we put up enough money for the cats to be fed into an incinerator, thereby eliminating the chances of creating more unwanted cats. I'm pretty proud of it.

#5 - Ryan becomes a terrorist.

Almost a year ago, someone was under the suspicion that I was a terrorist, or at least looked like one. This photo was all the proof that the Department of Homeland Security needed to put me on a torture jet for 96 hours. They attached a car battery to my unit until I gave them the names of my superiors. Good news is that I get to put one of those "POW-MIA" stickers on the back of my car.

#4 - Hello from 1961.

This bowling alley should be a historical landmark, not open for business. After bowling a lifetime-low score of 54 there, I realized that perhaps this place should be condemned instead.

#3 - Ryan shows his wiener.

I came home from work one day to find the Wienermobile parked right outside of my house, and unattended. I took full advantage of this, and took it on a joy ride until the Sun Prairie Police Department shot the tires out and pulled me out of the window. It was worth it.

#2 - Ryan hits on a headless woman.

It was the day before my wedding, and I decided that I should enjoy my final day of being single. Long story short, I woke up next to her, completely hung over and convinced that I was responsible for the absence of her head. To this day, the authorities haven't found the rest of her, and I'm not talking.

#1 - Worst picture ever.

This is the ugliest, most disgusting, funniest picture ever taken of me. Sure, it'll make you unattracted to me for the rest of your life, but you can't stare at it for more than 5 seconds without laughing your ass off. To me, laughter is more important than looking good.

Well, what a fun trip down self-pleasure lane this has been. I can't believe that you come here and read things that I have to say about myself. This whole thing is perverse and voyeuristic, and I'm not stopping until I have to. See you in 2005, where the CDP will return will all-new material and more of the same. I'm off to bed.

Wednesday, December 29

We Got A Winner!

As excited as I am about White Noise, I'm really looking forward to Ring Two, which will be released in March 2005. Sure, The Ring has been sequeled into oblivion in Japan, but I still think that the American remake was the best yet. The new director (replacing Gore Verbinski) was the same guy who did Ringu and Ringu 2 in Japan, so you've got to trust his vision. It might be a shot-for-shot remake or something completely original, and the studio's not talking.

As Sweeps Month draws to a successful close, I want to thank you for making December the biggest month EVER here at the CDP. We had 2100 visitors this month, which is pretty damn nice as far as I'm concerned. Hopefully, we can keep it that way, or maybe even more. Maybe if I actually got some dry hump movies up and running, we could really reel in the kids. Based on the search terms, that's what they want. I wonder who would be willing to make such a film.

On New Year's Eve, I'll be spending a quiet evening with the Missus, then we're heading up to Green Bay on Saturday to spend some quality time with Benjamin & Sherry Jenkel. Celia and I took next Monday and Tuesday off, so we're looking ahead to a nice 5-day vacation. We shall accomplish nothing.

Since we're on the subject, will people stop bitching about the Packers, for God's sake? We must be the only fans in the nation who complain about our team even after they win the Division for the 3rd year in a row, and are heading for a 10-win season. They have a #3 spot in the Playoffs, they get a first-round home game after losing 4 of their first 5, and they're capable of beating any team in the league. Give me a break. The Packers are NFC North Champions again, and even if they lose in the first or second round, cut them some Goddamn slack. Brett Favre has had a year that would push most men to suicide, instead he's thrown 28 touchdowns. I'm sick of this crap. If you don't care about football, that's fine, but don't complain about your favorite team when they play well. If you want to coach the team, fill out an application.

So, I got a Game Boy Advance for Christmas (The Retro Classic NES Design that was super-limited edition), and I also got the original Metroid game to play on it. In 1988, I was a Metroid master at the age of 6. Now, I might as well be a paraplegic. I can't play it to save my life, and it's embarrassing. What happened in the last 16 years that would make me suck at a classic video game? I shake my head in disgust every time poor Samus explodes into pieces, thinking that there was a more simpler time when I could have saved her. Maybe it's because I'm married now, or that there's a war going on or something. I'll be buying Super Mario Bros. 3 for it very soon. (In case you're wondering, I don't play my GBA when I could be spending that time with Celia. I know better.)

I'll be back before the end of the year with "The Top 10 Of Everything - 2004", and don't forget to check out the offensive comic masterpiece that is Boycott Unity. Until then, here's Bat Boy:

AAB-A-GAH-DAH! (Have a good day.)

Monday, December 27

A Cure For Insomnia.

(Monday, December 27, 1999 - 11:27pm)

Here I sit. 11:30 central time. I am cold. I am lonely. I wish I wasn't alone. Does anyone share my sentiments? I'm not one to complain, it's just that with every evening growing more and more frigid, wouldn't it be nice to know you have someone? Someone you know will always be there to comfort you and keep you warm. At least more of a companion than a computer monitor. It's times like this I regret the choices I made in the past. The choices that got me here to this state of unrevivable apathy. Blind to the frost that shrouds my basement window at ground-level. Jaded to what is going on outside of it. Deaf to the silent tapping of keys and calloused to the freezing sheets that protect me from the elements. I am quiet. I try not to think about much of anything, but darkness is the imagination's playground. My mind becomes a carnival of a past gone wrong, of lost love, and of love not yet found. The opposite sex is merely a surface problem on the body of a human shell, yet in times like these, it becomes more of a primal need. Why must I want what I can't have? Why must our minds revolve that way? Why can't I just stop thinking and drift into slumber? I am shivering much too violently and my heart is knocking so loudly on my brain's door, it has no choice but to let it in, and keep it company. Give it coffee. Try to calm it down, and warm it up from its hypothermic state. The heart is weak to the elements, and the brain is strong. Yet in almost all cases the heart is in control, and the brain is simply a passenger, accepting whatever it is left with. But the heart is blind, and knows no logic. It is a guaranteed mishap. Even though we all know this far too well, we continue to let it plague us every waking moment. This leaves us only with peaceful dreams to rely on. Wonderful alternate reality. Anything can and will take place at this, the least productive of times for the body. As soon as you come to terms with your surroundings, you have already forgotten. I continue to shiver, but I can't tell now, as I am too used to it. I try not to think about her or my life. I just want one evening where I can sleep and not worry about anything else. However, that is my curse. I have seen far too many sunrises due to my lack of acceptance. So the next time you see that one true thing, don't hide it. Let it be known, and shout it from the bell tower. It will be all worth it for some sleep.

Oh mercy, where do I start?

This was written by me, 5 years ago tonight. To keep a long story from running any longer, I was in a pretty dark spot in my life, and I wasn't really sure what was going to happen next with me. There were a lot of things crumbling all around me, and I was slowly breaking down. If the selfish, "pity-me" writing style didn't give it away, I was in High School and I was sad. There.

I don't bust this thing out every year because I consider it a good writing of mine. Oh, heaven's no, most of it makes no sense. This is because I hadn't slept in days, maybe weeks. ("Battling insomnia and fighting wars that I can't win") Sure, I got an hour here and there, but I honestly couldn't sleep to save my life. I would spend most nights driving around and wondering what I was doing with my life. ("I filled my tank 3 times this week") If it isn't obvious that sleep deprivation is something that has affected the way I carry myself, may I direct you to the entire movie I wrote about it.

Winneconne bridge, passing foreigners and passers-by
2 AM, a Sunday night, the headlights heavy on my eyes
And now I'm all alone, a world away from home
Vacant sights and yellow lights, I guess I really should have known
What is my purpose here? What was I sent to be?
Asking questions to the stars never made much sense to me
But I know they're all I've got tonight
You are my shelter, moonlight

What's important is that I was writing about Celia. At this point, we hadn't really met. This woman was tearing me up at the time and she didn't even know it. Instead of just introducing myself like most normal people do, this was my formal hello to her. I posted it on a message board that she and her friends liked to frequent. (The board has since been overrun with Spam and the like, it's really not worth the visit.) Nobody knew who I was writing about, they just thought I was an emotional loser venting at midnight to nobody. (They were right.) However, this was enough to worm my way into her life, and soon we began chatting on the very same page. This led to talking at school, and eventually spending time with each other out of school. In a few weeks we were going out, in a few more weeks we were in a band together, and as I speak we are celebrating being a married couple for 6 months.

We've known each other for 5 years now, and I couldn't be more of a different person than who I used to be. I was all set for a mental and physical crash of epic proportions in 1999, but she showed up and changed all that. We were exactly what the other needed, and she filled the passenger seat in my Buick Somerset like nobody else could. How many people can say that the entire season of Winter reminds them of their wife? I can, and although it's bittersweet to relive memories passed, I couldn't be happier in any other situation.
Now I can finally sleep. Goodnight.