Friday, February 11

You're Still Here?

Happy First Birthday, CDP!

After almost 8,000 visits and nearly 12,000 page views, we've reached this point. Over 100 posts, hundreds of thousands of words, tons of links, dozens of terrible pictures and a multitude of stories I should have kept to myself.

I started this page when I was unemployed last year, as an outlet to keep my writing skills active and public. 1 year later, and I'm still not an accomplished author, but as of yesterday I AM a published writer. My first CD review (LCD Soundsystem) ran in yesterday's issue of Core Weekly, and I'm writing another review for them as we speak (Goldfinger's new "Disconnection Notice"). I get paid to tell people what I think, and that's all I ever really wanted. (If you live outside of Madison and want a copy, just let me know; I swiped about 20 of them.)

Many thanks to the few friends I have that keep coming back to check out what's going on. I try to write about people around me as much as possible, because I know they'll check out the page if I talk about them. I'm under the assumption that 4 of my friends visited the page 3,000 times each over the past 12 months. That was really nice of you guys.

Since I started this page, I launched 3 other pages that I'm pretty proud of. "72 Hours" is a now defunct document of making a film out of a script I wrote last year. Boycott Unity is my daily comic strip devoted mostly to politics and tolerance. Ryan's Ween is...well, that's on the way.

I wanted to make this quick. As long as you promise to keep coming back, I'll continue to make an ass of myself for the sake of social acceptance and entertainment. Thanks.

Congratulate me and raise a glass in the all-new comments section. I'll be waiting for you.

Wednesday, February 9

It's Still Summer Somewhere.

I'm letting my Winter hair grow longer.

It's a little game I like to play. Every now and then, someone will tell me that I'd look sexier if my hair was a bit shaggier. This person is usually my Wife, and I comply. This goes well right up until that first day I have to blow dry it. Now, I don't consider myself to be a typical man, but hear me when I say that men shouldn't blow-dry anything. It's not natural, and I instantly head right off to the nearest Regis salon, and have them chop it all off.

Well, this time it's my idea and I'm sticking with it.

Obviously, my hair isn't anywhere near long and shaggy, but it's a start. I usually wear it quite short, showing off my massive oval-shaped melon. Short hair accentuates my giant forehead, and draws lots of attention to my elfin ears.

The chicks love it.

But alas, I'm moving on! Celia changes hairstyle more than I shower. I'd put up a montage of all her trademark styles, but if you just look at the photo section of our old band's page, you can track her styles through the years of 2000-2002.

My history with hair is a bit more simple; allow me to walk you through it.

1982 - 1985: A Curly Mop

(Straight mop pictured.)

1986 - 1989: The "Koppel"

1990 - 1993: Don Majkowski

(Shown doing what he did best, being tackled and subsequently injured.)

1994 - 1998: Koppel Returns

1999 - 2001: Spiked and Angry

2002 - 2004: George Clooney

2005 will be hereby known as.... The year of the "Shaggy".


(Various other hairstyles have been omitted to protect the credibility of the author.)

I'll keep you up to date as to how it's coming along, because I know you're concerned. Besides, I'm such a photo whore that I usually have a new picture of me up every week. My family has a good strong hair gene, so baldness doesn't seem to be in my future. Right up until the day he passed away, my Grandfather had a head of silver hair as beautiful as that of Lute Olson, coach of the Arizona Wildcats.

There were so many things I could have talked about today besides hair. American Idol is going quite smoothly, all the losers are getting cut (new episode tonight). The triumphant return of sub-zero winds and snow have convinced me to take a noose-tying class, just in case (1 hour a week at the YMCA). There's also a new (clip show) episode of Mythbusters tonight (see link on right).

In news that actually has to do with me, my CD review should be in tomorrow's issue of Core Weekly, and I'm in the process of hammering out another review for them. I've got a daily comic strip that you really need to check out more, and Ryan's Ween is in the early stages of being stocked wall-to-wall with tasteful soft-core pornography. You'd almost think I'd be getting paid to do all this, but it turns out I'm just a complete dumbass.

Today at work, I got an E-mail from someone asking if they needed a license to open a "Pet Massaging" business. I should have asked her for a job.

I'm ordering a pizza before American Idol starts. Then I'm going to run a round brush through my long, thick head of hair.

Sunday, February 6

Who's Going To Be The Odd Man Out?

When I was a kid, back in '85-'86, I was sort of pale and thin. But I obviously knew how to throw a deck party!

Bring your Styx records, Frampton 8-tracks and a case of Blatz, because this was one 4-year old that could rock until the sun came up. I walked around looking like that for years, honest to God, years. You'd think someone would have eventually scooped me up and put me on a talk show, or at least had me do some extra work on Holocaust films. The best part was my hair, as I looked like a young Ted Koppel. Still, I was certain the ladies would flock to me. Huge hair full of aerosol spray, spandex, leather jackets and dangly earrings. Yeah, I really miss the 80's.

I'm also a liar, and this picture is the only proof in my mind that the early 80's even existed.

Nowadays...Well, I'm still pale and thin.

(Artist's Rendition)

But now I have the common courtesy to wear a decent pair of pants every now and then. If you're ever around when I have to strip down for any reason, you'd notice that I basically look exactly like I did back then. It's troublesome and sad, and I'd rather you not bring it up to anyone.

So, what the hell am I getting at here? Nothing, really. I just really wanted to show everyone that picture of me. I used to hang around a group of friends that thought it was really funny to get naked for no reason. I never fully understood why a group of straight men would even consider such an activity, but I stayed quiet. For a brief period in the late 90's, teenage male exhibitionism was all the rage. The fire stoked by Blink-182's "What's My Age Again?" video, kids everywhere were running down sidewalks naked while their friends laughed their asses off. They would then pick up their clothing and drive off, leaving their friend for the cops to handle. I never participated (and none of my friends were ever arrested), but I must admit it left me with some humorous, non-gay memories.

I did have a gay best friend for most of Elementary and Middle school, but those stories alone could fill a book. That's a different post for a different time. Remind me to talk about that some day, will you?

While I'm comfortable enough with my own body in front of my wife, it's around others where I start to get jittery. Luckily for me, once you're married you usually don't find yourself showing your scantily-clad body off to loved ones and co-workers. I mean, you totally can, it's just generally frowned upon, depending on your friends. 98% of the people that I now hang out with are women, and they aren't really as into the exhibitionism thing as my old male friends were.

That's roughly the equivalent of winning 10 cents in the lottery. But in the grand scheme of things, pants always beats no pants. Let's move on.

Since we're on the subject of friends of my wife, I have to commend them all for something that's been going on for about 15 years. You see, every group of friends has a bully. Someone who pushes everyone around and treats them like rubbish, and everyone is always too nice or too intimidated to do something about it. Well, they finally did something about it last week, and I praise them for their efforts. Keep fighting the good fight, and don't stop until you get what you rightfully deserve. I used to put up with girls like that in High School, and it sickens me to see them invading my life now that I'm older. All I can say is that you're doing the right thing.

Speaking of doing the right thing, I'm starting to get a little annoyed with my job. I don't like to get caught in creative quicksand, especially when it comes to employment, and it's happening to me as we speak. I'm getting paid a certain amount of money to do a certain amount of things, you see. However, the amount and importance of things that I do far exceeds my current classification. Result? I'm getting screwed, and I feel the need to get a bit greedy about it. I feel I'm capable of much more in my field, and I'm going to look around until I get that chance. I love where I work, and I hope I can stay there as long as I'm happy, but I will not hesitate to leave should something better come along. It's nothing that anyone else wouldn't do.

Unlike most people who have lost the will to live, I don't look at my job as a privilege. I look at my job as something I should enjoy and feel respected in. Maybe it's a mix of my age and attitude in a work field that's so dominated by middle-aged folks, but I honestly don't care what anyone around me thinks when I step into my office in the morning. That may sound like I'm an ass and I'm difficult to get along with at work, but it's not true. In fact, I'm the cheeriest bastard in my office every single day. I have no idea why, either. My attitude is top notch, even as middle management finds yet another way to slip another task under my belt. I'm one of the fastest workers you'll ever find, and I honestly think that no one employee can take my place right now. Some days I do the work of 4 people, yet I couldn't be lower on the pyramid. This rant is officially over. As a final disclaimer, I'll have you know that I love and respect my job and supervisors, and am planning a long and satisfying career working for the State of Wisconsin.

(That rant was brought to you by Post your resume online and find the job of your dreams at, where you're the Monster!)

Who wants ice cream?

Hey, what a Superbowl! Both teams played like crap, but I'm glad the Patriots pulled it out. I wanted so badly to have Terrell Owens make an ass of himself out there, but he lost the big game, and that's all that matters to me. The commercials were a complete non-event, and the whole tribute to America was nothing more than redneck pandering. I'm glad the Simpsons completely trashed the whole spectacle, because it made the night come full circle. "American priorities are a joke!".

3 more things, then I'm going to bed:

1. The CDP turns 1 on Saturday. Make sure you keep visiting, because there's some things on the way you should enjoy. (Do I sense an all-nude pay site just around the corner?)

2. The day we start dropping bombs on Iran, I'm cutting off my thumbs to avoid the draft. Sure, I'll never be able to play the drums again or hold my unit straight when I'm taking a whiz, but at least I'll be able to walk around Canada with some sense of pride.

3. I sense an all-nude pay site just around the corner.