Where have all the fingernails gone?

Stress. It's like a really uncool adrenaline. You can't fight nor flight. You're just stuck there, standing, waiting for the grizzly to eat you alive.

So, as any good blogger, I have abandoned this page for...oh, a year and some change. Completely neglecting my duty to the zero(0) people who read this. And for that I will say "I'm sorry, no one."

What has driven me back to this blog? Well, as any good employee, I spend countless amounts of time sitting at my desk, being unproductive. I just thought I'd share my incompetencies, so some one can dig them up and fire me.

That's all for now. Get back to business! Cause time is money, and I'm not getting any poorer.

Hero

The other day I busted up a child cartography ring. Some sickos were forcing kids to chart, produce and duplicate maps. Perverts.

Writer's Blog

Think.

Think, dammit. You have to write about something.

If you don't, people won't read it. And people need to read something. Oh, you should also make it interesting. If not, they'll just peruse some lost-wiki to theorize as to who's funeral Jack attended in that last episode (SPOILER ALERT: I don't know!).

Or look at porn.

I'd like to look at porn, but my roommate is sitting next to me. Stupid roommate. Doesn't he know that I have needs, and urges; urges I don't have the prowess to actualize, save for a winning-lotto-ticket-esque stroke of luck?

Wow, that was one heck of a run-on sentence. I should avoid those when I write.

We have a sweet oscillating fan. Man-Vs-Wild is better, in my humble yet uninspired opinion, than Survivorman. I wonder: how do commercial actors feel about their career? Ok, now I'm just watching TV.

(the previous 4 statements were written over the course of 65 minutes)

Written communication. It starts with a spark, an idea in your skull. You put the pen to the paper, or in it's modern translation, the finger to the keys, and churn out a piece of writing. It's that simple. Why is it so difficult?

I blame the media. for featuring watchable programming which is just barely bearable enough to prevent me from cleaning my room, or worse yet, from writing the Great American Blog.

Which reminds me, I should figure out how to add digg-type components to this page (it's like a popularity contest for internet garbage, garbage I one day wish to produce). That way I'll know that what I came up with was acceptable.

But first, I must think about what to write about. I have deadlines, expectorant readers... Oh, wait. No I don't. Screw this (I at least have the prowess for that).

An Open Letter to My Future Self

Dear Future Kevin,

What up dawg? (That's the popular greeting in 2007) How's life been treating me? I hope good. Things are going pretty good on my side of the temporal spectrum. I'm writing because there are some things you need to know, rather, remember.

I wanted to be somebody. I hope I still do. Or better yet, I hope I'm that body right now. Yeah, in fact, you better be successful by now, or at least on the road to it. Cuz if not, I'm going to be pissed. You had big dreams, aspirations, and if you haven't followed through on one of them, well then, you're just a no good failure.

Kill yourself.

I'm serious man. You better be a writer. Or something sweet. You better have a hot wife and some sweet kid(s). If not, cash in your chips, cut your losses and get out of this world, as I'm sure it's crowded enough by now.

Hey, remember college? I hope you remember me as the coolest kid ever, cuz I'm not actually, but time has a way of altering memories.

But yeah, the future must be sweet, I mean, it's the fucking FUTURE! Do they have jetpacks yet? Hotels on the moon? Have they found a way to send messages back in time?

I can only hope the world has advanced according to Gene Roddenberry's predictions. If so, screw writer, I want you on the course for Starship Captain (but I'd settle for lieutenant).

Say hi to your kid(s) for me; slap your hot wife on the ass and say "feels like it did in 2010", chicks still digg compliments, right?

Hasta La Vista, Baby
Kevin M. Wowsh

Suckerpunch, Boobs, Race Riot....The Makings of a Great Night

There was a pink ooze flowing under the streets of Urbana last night.

Walking to a party, Derek called for a high five from some Broseph, only to get punched in the stomach. I stepped between Derek and Brose Cuervo, trying to break it up, and when my head was turned, Bromagnun man SUCKERPUNCHES me in the eye. It didn't hurt and I am easily able to dodge this frat drunk's additional punches, I get a couple in, and we tussle to the ground. I'm on my back. When I realize he's not doing anything, because Derek and Stu were fish-hooking and tugging his hoodie, I throw a couple more in, and kick him off me. I put a choke hold on Brodney Dangerfield that I know for a fact is barred in pro wrestling. So I guess he starts to turn purple, Derek, Stu, and the girl Broner was with are pleading with me to stop, so I take him and throw him back in the mud. We begin walking away, and in typical bro-fashion, Broke stands up and starts challenging us again, walking towards us. I'm sick of his advances, and we just happened to pass an area rich in rocks, so, being without sin, I begin to hurl these rocks at the stupid Bromethius. I eventually peg him, and he eventually subsides, and walks away. Probably to bang or beat up that slut he was with.

Damn Frat Fucks.

So we're maxing at this party, I'm going around, bragging about my victory, icing my sucker punched eye for effect. Then, somehow, my friend Brock (not a bro term, new person) offends some stupid bimbo that happened to have big boobs. She follows him into every room, trying to verbally harass him, also trying to recruit guys to fight him fight for her. You should have seen this girl's eyes. She. Was. Insane. Well, eventually she is able to admit Brock is an engineer in exchange for him apologizing for saying she had big boobs.

I am as confused as you.

Then, as things are starting to calm down, some girl busts in to the party; asking if anyone inside can break up a fight outside. By now, I am a seasoned veteran of getting in the middle of fights, so I volunteer. I step outside to find two girls engaged in a harsh catfight, and no one is really stopping it from happening. So I grab the nearest girl to me and pull her back; trying to talk some sense to her. A particularly angry member of the opposing girl's team is on the edge of the porch, and we begin discussing how nobody wants to fight. He informs me of five hick friends next door that he doesn't want to have to call on. I repeat our earlier sentiment that no one wants to fight. But, I suppose at this point, the floodgates of adrenaline let loose, and he decides arbitrarily that Derek, in fact, wants to fight.

No he doesn't.

I have deja vu from about 2 hours prior and realize I don't want to be between Derek and another Douchebag. Meanwhile, the opposing girl is below the balcony standing in the driveway. She (an Asian girl) is insisting that I am a racist for restraining the girl (white) nearest me. Then a brown guy joins her rally, and adds that I am a member of the kkk. I have never felt more odd and prejudiced in my life. There's no way to persuade these people that what their saying is unfounded, because apparently I'm on team racist. I thought of a NOFX song from way back, so I begin singing; "I'll accept responsibility for what I've done, but not for who I am. Don't call me white, don't call me white."

What I don't understand is that they live at a house with supposedly five hicks waiting to fight.

So, being racially othered over my left shoulder, I turn back to the balcony, where the angry idiot from team Hick/Not Racist is jonsing for a fight. I'm pleading with this guy to not fight standing between him and Derek. I watch him grab a bottle and attempt to smash it on the side of the balcony. I am thinking "Is this happening??" His plan backfires, luckily, and the bottle falls out of his hand. Being without his phallic symbol lessons his will to fight. That, and the fact a police spotlight hits the balcony. I'm thinking "Thank God, the authorities, now I can finally leave this party." I zip up my muddy hoodie; hop a fence a peace out.

If any of this story makes no sense to you, trust me, it doesn't to me either. All I know is there was some bad blood east of the UofI campus last night. Maybe I should become a vigilante, or a bouncer, and separate fights for a living.

But all this has got me thinking about race. I have never been called a member of the kkk before. That was odd. Especially since they said this to because I broke up a fight. But here are my brief thoughts on race:

We are too simple as creatures to not focus on physical characteristics. Humans are dumb, on a whole. I feel that there are always going to be people with different physical characteristics, different cultural characteristics, different interests, tastes in music, hobbies, sex preferences, and etc. A lot of times, these different things overlap, but a lot of times they don't.

Recognizing a difference between you and the next guy is going to happen, but when something negative is involved (i.e. verbal harassment, denying employment, violence) that’s when shit become racist.

In trying to describe someone, you seek out the most general descriptors. It is a conversational norm to administer that delicate balance between detail and speed. I don't understand the stigma with saying, "the black guy," "the gay guy," "the kid who listens to phish" etc, if it is the shortest way of cuing him up in someone’s mind, and it is not done in a negative harsh or threatening way. There are people that would probably say I am othering these people, but I really don't feel this is the case.

These differences are apparent and obvious, and we can't pretend they don't exist. But the fact that these differences exist is no reason to act any differently towards another human being. I'm a Star Trek idealist; I would even extend this to include non-hostile humanoids from other star systems.



Please comment, I really need to know if I'm off-base, inherently racist, a champion fighter, or whatever.



Kevin "Bones" Walsh

Sometimes it's nice to walk through the mud. It helps you appreciate the sidewalk.

I'm not gonna make any friends with this one...

I've been enjoying my absence from writing things...toying with the idea of making my blog a vlog...but I recently viewed something that stirred me to write, and like I've said above, I'm not making any friends with this one.

Anyway, I was watching a pilot for a new program on PBS, starring Fox Chicago News lady Robin Robinson. The show is 22nd Century, check it out and vote for it. (Vote of Die, motherfucker)

One segment I saw wowed, and then proceeded to shock me. It was pertaining to cochlear implants. Cochlear implants, in case anyone doesn't know, are devices surgically implanted in the ear to help the deaf sense and interpret sound. It does not restore hearing or amplify sound though, but instead works by stimulating auditory nerves with electronic impulses.

I was amazed. This was no hearing aid. This was way for those with complete loss of hearing gain some sense of sound. Then I learned about the Deaf Community's outrage over the Cochlear Implant.

See they feel that this makes deafness seem like a disability when, to them, it's a culture.

I was blown away by this revelation. Hopefully, karma won't punish me, as I am possibly being a bigot, as I've never been deaf, but being deaf IS a disability. Disability = Lack of ability. Deaf lack the ability to hear. I'm aware that they still have a language, but they cannot hear.

Now picture not being able to walk, assuming you can. Being bound to a wheelchair is a disability. You lack the ability to walk. Sure, you play murderball, but I'm fairly sure that's because one person in a wheelchair playing basketball
against some 6'2'' dudes would suffer a disadvantage on the b-ball court. But let’s step away from handicapped people; I don't want karma to make me deaf and peg-legged.

I think sign language could have advantages if it was universal across borders. But it's not.
Sign language even has regional hand dialect. Another thing that separates it from a traditional culture is the lack of common ancestry; most deaf people are born into hearing families.

Lets say there was a huge aids community. And let’s say they finally release the cure for aids the major medical corporations have had for years. Should there be an outrage? Is it fair for a larger group to shun people who want a solution; shun those that desire white blood cells, because the community is centered around the lack of an immune system. Hmmm…

Once again, this is probably just me being ignorant.

Kevin "Peg-leg" Walsh

Back

Ew gross, I wrote this like a month ago. I may as well post it, but I warn you, its not my best work...



I'm back at my local education establishment. Hope everyone had a most excellent month. What to discuss today?...Ah,how about drunk dials!

It has been my experience that drunk dials have went from something cool, maybe a tad unexpected, slightly funn, but overall,Wwelcomed, -to something far more depressing. Drunk dials have turned into depressing calls to one ex, professions of love, or an airing of grievances. Bring back fun drunk dials. Bring back Dr. Funk Dials.

I propose the only way to save the drunk dial as we knew it, is to team up with an unlikely ally. A blast from the way past, something amateurish, sophomoric, the CRANK PHONE CALL.

I know what you're thinking, the crank phonecall? Are you serious? We live in a world of caller id and cellphone contact lists, not star-six-seven(*67).

I hear ya, trust me. But I do have an answer, a soon to be not-so-secret recipe. Target business, target random numbers that are not random. Party people, we can make this thing work!

Here's a list of awesome numbers you can call, it also gives you a lot of content for your actual dr funk dial conversation. I've listed them as 1-800 numbers, but you can always just type em in with your local area code and see what develops.

1-800-FUCK-YOU
1-800-DR-TITTY
1-800-EAT-SHIT
1-800-TOE-PLAY
1-800-MR-PUBES
1-800-AWESOME
1-800-CUM-BOAT
1-800-BACK-FAT
1-800-BEER-CAN
1-800-ASS-CITY
1-800-FAG-BOT-2
1-800-MRS-LARD
1-800-BOY-TOYZ
1-800-JEW-FART
1-800-RAPE-VAN
1-800-BIG-POOP
1-800-SEX-TIME
1-800-YOU-SUCK
1-800-STAR-WAR
1-800-I-LOVE-69
1-800-PISS-MOP
1-800-???-????

So yeah, call those, the conversation follows naturally. You'll chuckle histarically with your refridgerator running/prince albert in a can type jokes. You sap.

-I'm not even signing this post

Ghetto Secrets

Everyone on the internet is a racist. Everyone who watches Seinfeld is a racist. I think all this racism is happening because we don't know enough about one another. We need to learn about other people's cultures and respect one another as human beings. I've learned a lot about "urban" culture that I'd like to share with you, in hopes that maybe it will bridge that Gap®. Here are my ghetto secrets.

The Chicken Soup Sandwich - This is exactly what it sounds like. Cook up some chicken noodle soup and fork out the contents onto two slices of bread. Its cheap an easy, you can even make it if your electricity has been shut off. Just hold a lighter underneath the can till its your desired temp and enjoy.

Yeah, we've all heard of unemployment, but have you ever heard of Funemployment?
(P.S. Avoid the currency exchange on the 1st and 15th of the month. That's when the checks come.)

Thug Workouts - You don't need some fancy gym membership plan to do these workouts, just a playground with some swings, gazebo or jungle gym. Of course you already have to be ridiculously strong to do most of their moves. I wish there was a better video of this online, like one with them doing sick pullups and bicycle moves on a jungle gym, but god damn google pulled all the decent videos off of youtube. Mother Fuckers.



You can't go through the rough neighborhoods in town without a ghetto pass, unless you're buying drugs. Also, the street has the right to revoke your pass at any time.
(Common Lost his ghetto pass the second he wrote "Peace, Love and Gap®.")

The DL (down low, as in keep it on the) - The "hood" community is extremely homophobicic. There are gay black people, but to maintain their masculinity, they keep the deed on the down low.

Twice Fried French Fries - We all know that cold fries are the worst. They seemingly revert to raw potato texture. Even the microwave can't revive them. If you wake up one day with leftover fries sittin on a table, and that's a big if, just toss a little oil in a pan on low heat and recook those fries to their true deliciousness.

Well, there you have it. Those are some of the best ghetto secrets I could muster for now. I hope that helps you become less of a racist, you racist. Have a safe and happy holiday season, see you in the new year.




Or will I?

Kevin Walsh®

Truth of my Youth [FAD CITY, U.S.A]

So I started this entry mid-finals week and it took me much longer than anticipated. Rather than act as if I wrote this all in one sitting, post-finals, I've decided to leave it as is, (except for this intro, of course) namely due to the fact that I mention the band Loverboy...


Well, I'm sitting here amidst a rabid finals week at a public university, blasting Loverboy, and trying to avoid anything that resembles studying. My thoughts dance seamlessly between my own delusions of grandeur... and a realization of the "cold, hard" world that sits waiting for me. (Then I hate myself for not thinking around the phrase "cold, hard.")

I, like any other delusional American, will avoid reality with a little known concept--coined by Johannes Hofer in 1678-- called nostalgia. Vh1 has saved itself from certain destruction many a time, soley by exploiting this concept... perhaps I can do the same.

One of the first things you learn as a young lad or lass is to embrace group-thought. Japan is especially extreme when it comes to the role of the "in group." There is absolutely no room for individual thinking in our society... I'm reminded of a girl in High School that thought she was a dragon...Goddamn she was funny... and mysteriously hot! He who sticks out of the crowd is laughed at, it's a rule of the school yard, and a law of the land.

It is in this environment that the FAD thrives. My "balls-to-the-walls" mentality has made me fully aware that my development was no more than a leap-frogging from Fad to Fad, and I am not only OK, but actually quite SECURE with that knowledge.

There are some amazing things that I now realize were intricate to my social development; things I want to go back to, have again, watch again, wear again. I could go on and on about every aspect of my childhood, and I just might. If not, this post will also be open ended, allowing me, much like Vh1, to fill in the gaps later on, in the form of a much less interesting blog.


Fashion

A lot can be said of a man from his pants. Granted, mine had a literal translation..."Husky." Coincidentally, I never cared much for jeans until modern times, when I could slip into a pair of "Regular Fit." But, all repressed fat memories aside, there where several notable pant forms that existed through my time, and I will attempt to chronicle them as best as possible.

Fortunately, the hospitals "Class of 1986" was not struck by the parachute pants craze like some poor, unfortunate elders. We did, however, fall victim to the Zubaz period. If you are unfamiliar with this pant, first let me say that you lucked out considerably. The best way I could describe it would be a Zebra patterned pant, in your favorite sports team's colors. You may have seen them on older polish guys from Chicago, or possibly hillbillys from the Appalachian Valley, as their fashion sense is roughly 15 years behind "main-stream" America. If you are familiar with Zubaz, wouldn't you just love to get a pair, you know, to work out in? I know I would...In fact, I think that's probably the only thing standing in the way of me working out. Except, of course, my considerable amounts of laziness.

No, if it were up to me, I'd just slink back into a pair of the baggiest pants I could find....OH WAIT, I DID! Yeah, they were called JNCO's, and they were probably the hottest commodity around! They were baggiest, most straight-leggiest jeans with awesome "Urban" art on the pockets. It really made everyone's legs look equally large...if it weren't for my damn upper torso! Anyway, according to the wikipedia page (that I just edited) , JNCO's will be back, so be on the lookout.

Who can forget about the Adidas tear-aways? Not a single youth with "Hoop Dreams" lacked these pants. The pants, essential; the premise, simple. Button up, and tear away. If there was an M. Night Shyamalan movie where the hero needed to dunk over some monster, someone would surely tell him to tear away, Mike, tear away.

Did M. Night direct Space Jam??? Nah, the ending didn't tie together . Regardless, this leads me to my next topic

Sports

And by sports, I mean basketball. And by basketball I mean the Chicago Bulls. And by the Chicago Bulls I mean Michael Jordan. And by Michael Jordan I mean Bill Wennington. (the preceding statement is false) [Should I have used Luc Longley?]

What team can win three consecutive championships, take some time off for their star player to have a successful stint in baseball, then return to re-peat the proverbial three-peat?

The Chicago Bulls were not only a local phenomenon, but a national one. I cannot stress how empowering it is to know that your home team is the best in its class.

Toys

I'd like to note that I had essentially every Ninja Turtle, Power Ranger, Jedi and supervillain in action figure form. But I am much more fascinated with time tested, old favorites, returning for their one final stab at glory in the mid-90's. I'm trying to think of things that weren't really more than the some of their parts, I've come up with three:

Pogs - Remember those paper milkcaps from the 30's? Well they're back...in pog form. I'm certainly glad they added the radical graphics to them. I had a bodacious slammer, it was real thick and had the Mortal Kombat logo on it.

Trading Cards - Wow. I hope these get revived. I have about 500 sitting in my grandma's basement. Mint Condition, in plastic sleeves. I intend to sell every last one at a premium to recoup the hundreds of dollars I lost collecting every Fleer, Topps, Skybox or Upper Deck officially licensed NBA card. Sport card where my thought, but then it occurred to me that Magic The Gathering and Pokemon generated huge sales for the 2.5 x 3.5 in. paper-with-image-printed-on-it industry.


Yo-Yo's - Zainy Brainy's bread and butter. You know I'm talking about the Yomega fireball. Here is a comprehensive list of trick names; and while I've seen them all, I could only really do a sleeper, walk the dog, cat's cradle, and Michelangelo's Around the World, from TMNT II: Secret of the Ooze. I lacked basic hand-eye coordination in grade school. Still do.


I realize now that I've left out a lot of fads, trends, toys, shows, movies, events, and the like in the above post. Please, if you've stumbled upon this, I wanna hear what you think. I fully intend to Got Milk? this 90's nostalgia with a followup post.


Inconspicuously yours,
Kevin "For the Weekend" Walsh

Learn Something About Yourself

This blog used to be biting social commentary.

The second I wrote the previous sentance I realized how big of a liar I am.

...And how well I ammend things with followup sentances.

Simple Pleasures (A Recurring List)

-An umbrella on a rainy day.
-A piece of candy found on a sidewalk(fully wrapped, mind you).
-A cigarette when you are really, and I mean really stressed.
-A warm smile.
-Plans going off without a hitch.
-Having. Exact. Change.
-People listening to your stupid problems, and at least pretending to care.
-A bus that arrives right when you want it to.
-Free food.
-Free anything.
-A song coming on randomly that happens to perfectly describe your mood.
-Making your mom laugh(with you, not at you)
-...hell, at you too.
-Finding a quarter, anywhere. Not a fucking penny, nickle or dime.
-Giving the middle finger to a complete and total stranger, for no reason.

Top Ten Ways To Die

Yessir, after extensive thought, I've narrowed down the ways that I, Kevin "Scotch-Tape" Walsh, would like to die, given the option.

Number Ten: Being Swallowed Whole
Like by some large Dinosaur or Whale, spending the rest of your days in his stomach, sitting on a makeshift bench, eating any food that comes in, maybe a small fire off to the side dimly lighting the oversized organ. I would no doubt compile a journal, be it on makeshift paper or carved into the large beast's stomach lining. I'd also have a set of tallies indicating the number of days I'd spent in the creature's gullet.

Number Nine: Reverse Aging
Its a common scenario forced upon heroes in cartoons; some sinister madman creates a potion that literally turns back your biological clock, and you grow rapidly younger with every passing second. You continue shrinking until you become a baby, and shortly after that, you blink out of existence. This is a preferred way of death for me because I would do anything to be a kid once more...

Number Eight: Natural Causes
And by "Natural" I mean "Sexual." Going out on the brink of orgasm is probably every man's goal in death. The top of the mountain, the peak, why go downhill when you can just die?

Number Seven: With A Conspiracy Surrounding My Death
I kind of want a real "Magic Bullet" end to my less-than-mysterious life. It would be ideal if the logistics of the cause of death were nonsensical, but thats just the icing. If I was to be murdered, I would want it to be for no conceivable reason to the public except that someone was either incredibly infatuated, or incredibly jealous of whom I was. That person should be a mystery to the world, and remain a mystery until 50 years later, when the murderer, motive, and exact cause were released from government archives.

Number Six: Being Sucked Into Some Form Of Vortex
I initially considered being sucked into a tornado as one of my top ways to die, but I decided to look at the larger whole. Why stop at an earthly natural disaster? There are other swirly things that could suck me in to my demise, like a black hole! Of course, if this were the case, I feel I should at least receive the unadulterated knowledge of how black holes work, seconds before my untimely end. That way, for two seconds, I would hold the answers physicists have sought after for years. Two seconds is just enough time to smile at how much more you know than anyone else in the world.

Number Five: In A Dual Where, After Being Shot First, I Manage To Rise Up And Kill My Opponent Before Dieing
It's the stuff that westerns and revenge flicks are all about; to die the ultimate badass. It also messes with the audience a little bit. You see someone shot, you think it's over. To rise up shows both one's strength physically as well as the mental commitment to bringing that opponent down for the great sleep. That person will die...Even if it is literally the last thing I do

Number Four: Doing Something Incredibly Noble And Selfless To Single-Handedly Save Humanity
This scenario has been inspired by the movies. I think, nay, I know it would be amazing to be placed on a mission knowing the there would be no mortal return for me, but the end results of said mission would save the entire human race. (Or at least a group of people that meant the world to me) I would happily trade my life for those of my close peers/species. Especially since my Kamikaze mission would no doubt be etched in minds, hearts, even history as a whole, forever. This blog post has been dedicated to Kevin Walsh, the man who knowingly and selflessly sacrificed himself to save our planet from certain destruction.

Number Three: Killed By Some Sort Of Alternate/Bizarro/Mirror Self
For all I know, I'm the evil me. If I was killed by myself, I'll know that the better man won. Clearly I've been bested. In fact, I'm certain the only one that can beat me is... well, me. The question is, is this act homicide... or suicide? If it was suicide, was it really me that committed suicide, or was it my mirror self? And what happens if after killing me he kills himself? Double-Suicide? These questions are better left to the future police of the human race(s).

Number Two: Some Irreversible Scenario Where I Still Have The Time To Belt One Sweet (Catch) Phrase
Also inspired by the motion pictures. I'd love to discover a bomb with only two seconds left on it, enough time to say one last (hopefully witty) thing before the grand kablamo! I really need to consider what to say. The simple "Shit." would work nicely, but it would be great to think of something really memorable to say, like "Figures." or "It's a living." or something real cool and related. Also, I think a simple yelling would work, like screaming at an oncoming nuclear explosion until it eradicated my existence.

Number One: The Apocalypse
Oh man, the king of all death scenarios. I would certainly be left behind, as I am no more a Christian than you are a Chesapeake Bay Retriever, but this would make for an even more awesome and intense death. Not only would it solve the greatest mystery of mankind's existence, shoving in your face how wrong you really were, but the things you would have to deal with in the final hours would be nuts. Earthquakes. Comets. Man killing man. Plagues. Intense Heat. Poisoned Waters. Locusts attacking flesh. Seas turning to blood! Oh the lime-anity! Imagine surviving through all of these things, witnesses the four horseman ride. Knowing that your end is near, I know it seems harsh. But it would certainly be one killer death.


Kevin "Pun intended" Walsh

SuperMegaFantasticHappyFunTime ExtremeBlowoutDoublePost [New York Trip]

This is more of a personal post than anything else, so I'll understand if you don't care to read it. ^The other half of this dual post is above ^

I was in New York for this past weekend, and I bring to you some photographs and observations from the trip. First, I'm going to let off some steam at AD Majors @ UofI as a whole, as I was thrown in an incubator with them all weekend. I made about 5 friends out of the 100, and I'm fine with that, as I'm convinced that those 5 made up the entire cool population of the trip. My Gripes:

For the most part, AD Majors at UofI are one of two things.*
*please note that there are some exceptions, if I know you, chances are you are an exception.*

>Sorostitutes: Ever wonder what major idiot sorority girls choose? It's certainly not engineering. I've never seen so much of the same shade of blonde as I have in my advertising classes.
>Assholes: The few males in the field it seems, frat or not, are just plain assholes. Awkward as shit, yet assholes nonetheless. Maybe they put on the attitude in some peacock way of attracting sorostitute tail. Sorority Girls and Assholes, that’s the base makeup of my major. I like my chances.

There are Two approaches said AD Majors have to their future.

>The Undecided: This mainly applies to the aforementioned "Sorostitutes." They have no idea what they actually want to do in the field. These are juniors and seniors with no knowledge of where they're gonna be in less than a year or two. I especially enjoy those who feel that they want to be a creative, with no sense of humor, writing or art talent to back them up. "Hmmmm, well, I was like, thinking of being an art director maybe...." Good luck. I recommend something low cut with your push-upiest of bras. You may just be able to dupe someone in to thinking you have talent.
>The Shark: This person views every single person in the field as competition. This person feels that there can be no real friends in this business, as one day everyone around you may come to usurp their glorious throne. Ok hotshot, have fun building future enemies instead of friends. We'll see how well that works in the long run.

Now, my comments on the Big Apple, the Big Easy, the City that Never Sleeps:

New York is Chicago Times Ten
I hate to say it, but it really is a much more intense Chicago. The buildings are bigger, there are way more tourists, later nights, the city is dirtier, but all in all, I feel safer in New York than in downtown Chicago.

They Aren't as Rude as You'd Think
New York has a stigma of being filled with real exceptionally rude people. This didn't ring true for me though. People actually pointed us in the right direction, helped us out and such. There was a slight amount of stiff-arming, but that’s only when it got really crowded. I hate looking like a tourist, so I tried to blend in, but when I got lost, they helped out. Props New Yorkers.

Seeing things on TV up close and in person is really a mindfuck.
This is mainly because TV portrays them incredibly inaccurately. We were at Rockefeller Center, inside NBC studios, and an assortment of other places which look differently than they do on TV. Rockefeller is actually fairly small, NBC is poorly lit, and MTV does not look nearly as cool as they make it on TRL.

Anything You Want to Do There Requires Weeks and Weeks of Notice
Shows, tapings, tours, etc. Plan ahead if you ever go. It may sound sucky that you have to map out an entire vacation, but trust me; it'd be for the best.

Bums Are Less Abrasive:
They mostly keep to themselves on the steps of churches. I did see one kneeling down and urinating at passersby, but that’s the extent of the bum outburst. There were one or two people sitting with the clever signs like "Why lie? It's for beer!" Instead of the direct bums, you see lots of street performers. Musicians, Mimes, Artists, Small Vendors, etc. It’s a much better system when you earn your money, rather than beg. Subways are filled with an equal number of performers as visible rodents (both make the New York experience more lively).

New York's Pizza IS NOT Better Than Chicago's.
I don't care what the people from NYC have to say, their pizza is no better. Sure they have all sorts of crazy toppings, but there's a place at UofI (Antonio’s) that makes pizza exactly the same way. Having first been exposed to Antonio’s, I don't find New York clever nor original (even if Antonio transplanted this type of Za from there to here) Not to mention we got the DEEP DISH! I'll take big and thick over long and thin any day, am I right ladies?

People Don't Like Talking To Strangers.
This makes sense from my stereotype of New York, but I was a little taken aback when, waiting for my flight to Chicago, people were the same way. What an individualistic society we live in, when people would rather sit in silence, or listen to the same damn songs for an hour instead of talking to another human being. Exchanging verbal contact, sharing and learning from someone else, was a core human value. I would have really thought this would be more popular, as it gives a chance for people to talk about themselves and share their tired old stories to someone new and different who will appreciate them. Maybe if I had some candy they'd wanna talk.

Oh, and guess what. I encountered one of The Most Distressing Things on the Face of the Earth...EVER! Yup, as I'm getting on a plane, in the aisle seat, sure enough, a man without the use of his legs. Worse yet is I had the window seat. He ended up crawling over to the window so that I wouldn't have to climb over him. Then some couple came and asked him to trade seats with one of them so they could sit together! AH!!!! I immediately volunteered myself for the job, and sat between two very pleasant people on the ride home. Social Disaster Averted.

The Most Distressing Things on the Face of the Earth.....EVER

I saw this product on the shelves at Target, and I had to pick it up. Why? Because I invented it, that's why! Two years ago, no less. It was called the "Cranberry Kevin"(I toyed with the idea of calling it a Cranberry Cevin or Kranberry Kevin, but both looked too stupid, also because that whole re-lettering thing is no longer clever.)

It was a drink born out of necessity. Fed up with the juice selection, and bored by tired old sodas, as well as new attempts at adding flavors to sodas, I went to town concocting this beverage. I sought the perfect proportions of ice, lemon-lime soda, and cranberry juice. The result was the Cranberry Kevin.

It actually served well as a mixer as well, and with a simple double-shot of cranberry vodka, the alcoholic version was born. Now, these "geniuses" cleverly stole my drink. Goddamn talking dog.

I'll digress, for now.

Following the theme of things-that-really-induce-stress, I present you with the following. Not only are they stessors, but they also have severe tear-jerking capabilities. Some are light-hearted, some are extremely serious, but all are The Most Distressing Things on the Face of the Earth.....EVER:


Movies Where the Underdog Loses:

Its fairly ingrained in movies that the "Mighty Ducks" will win. The "Little Giants" of the movies will pull through, overcome adversity, learn something about each one of themselves, and win out in the end. When you "Cool Runnings" an ending, the viewer leaves the movie experience disgusted. How dare they toy with emotion like that!?!?! It's soul-less... it's immoral. What kind of message does this send to the youth? "If you aren't already the best, don't try, because you will just lose anyway." These types of movies have severely stunted the growth of our national pride

Native American Alcoholism:

First, small pox blankets, the trail of nears, and associated atrocities gringo has brought upon his native brother. Now, trailer parks, casinos, satellite television and a terrible addiction to Alcohol are the only things this proud indigenous race has to show for themselves.

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome:

We don't know the causes. There are no solutions.

Movies where a fat kid falls in love with a beautiful girl:

Cuz you know that just won't work out.

Public Displays of Racism:

Commonly known as PDR's, these never cease to tense me up. Especially when I know the racist. Even worse when I know both parties.

The Runner Up in any sort of pageant:

They jump and smile and act happy for the person who won, but you can see it in their eyes. Why force them to continue to share the stage? That's just cruel!

Inconvenienced Handicapped People:

If you've ever been on a crowded plane, and they've had to carry in someone to their seat, you know this feeling. Or out for a walk and crossed paths with a blind person, or someone in a wheel chair. These people lack a significant and common human function. And chances are, you take it for granted. Excessively large or short people are also significantly disadvantaged too in some respects...especially at theme parks for some reason. (All of those height and size constraints.) Also, controversially, I include obese people in the handicapped demographic. Here's my logic: a person crippled in an accident chose to jump dirt bikes through hoops of fire, just as a fat guy chose to eat all those chocolates.

Burn Wards:

This goes double true if located at a Children's Hospital

Sad Animals(Especially Dogs):

Possibly the most distressing thing I've experienced. When an animal is sad, it cuts to the core. Some animals, like dogs, seem to be comprised purely of emotion, so it hurts more to see one sad. This is often a gripping plot device in movies. They will either kill a dogs owner, or, more gut wrenchingly, a dog will jump in the path of a bullet shot at its master. So selfless. But it is true of other animals as well.
True story: There was a widowed mother duck who laid her eggs next to the front door of our house some years ago. Everything was going fine, she would go off and forage during parts of the day, and hang out near our house the rest. Well, one day, while she was out, I guess some sort of raccoon or wolverine-like creature came and ate every last egg. The real tear jerker, true in my mind today as the day it happened, is that mother duck which stood in our front yard, staring blankly into the wind. The last link she had to her deceased life-long mate, his offspring, brutally taken from her. If there isn't at least a single tear streaming down your cheek, I hate you. That was a beautiful, yet tragically gripping story, and you know it.



Well that's all for me this week, if anyone knows a lawyer, I think I have a very strong case against PepsiCo.

Kevin "Mathmagic" Walsh

Things I Find Incredibly Awesome(and theres no reason other people shouldn't find them awesome too) [part 3/3]

So I had a killer Wikipedia page for about 10 seconds.

(click the pic to see it full size)

Apparently, existing isn’t grounds enough for an entry.

Anywho, this is the third installment of my three part series, and what better a way to close this one out than...

TIME TRAVEL

How incredible would it be to one day be able to visit the past, to really observe it first hand. Now I’m not talking about traveling through time all willy-nilly, putting your parents back together at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance, killing your alternative-dimensional selves for super-strength, or stepping on a single butterfly, thus altering the future.

Well, actually, yeah I am. Those are probably some of the coolest prospects of time travel. The meat and potatoes, the bread and butter, however, would be for scientific/historical observational study.

Some smart guy (Stephen something) argues that the absence of tourists from the future suggests that time travel isn’t, nor ever will be, possible. I would like to refute S. Hawking’s argument with one of my own. (Yes, I am just so cocky as to do that)

Many views of how time travel works argue that you can only travel as far back as the time the machine was created. Since it hasn’t been invented yet, no one is traveling back here. It is possible, that on the day the machine is invented, 999,999,999,999,999…… people instantly show up from various points in the future, visiting the historic day in which time travel first became a reality. Alternatively, if this wasn’t the case, there are still other possibilities.

Let us assume, dear friends, that a society advanced enough possess the capabilities of time travel is also far beyond the level of civilization we currently have. (Picture shopping the day after Thanksgiving to be a good representative sample of our current civility) Anyway, I would imagine such an advanced culture would have regulations on when and where you could travel, armed with an advance knowledge that influencing the past could be über disruptive to the progress of the future.

If our culture got wind of a gateway to the future, we would most certainly become “future-dependant.” Future dependency is a serious issue; our natural progression in science and technology, art, music, literature, all would halt, as we would just pump in technology from the future. But this, in turn, would create a paradox, because we must naturally develop time travel technology, or else it wouldn’t exist. The Rapture would most certainly ensue.

If you traveled back in time and killed your own grandfather, prior to him boning granny, neither your parent nor you would ever be born. So then, who traveled to the past and sadistically murder grandpa?

Don’t sweat about it, it’s supposed to make no sense. It’s a paradox.


Dealing with the inherent paradoxes of time travel makes it more interesting to think about. I’m going to recommend further reading on the Grandfather Paradox and the Predestination Paradox. If you have the time, read up, they present some very interesting theories on how paradoxes of traveling to the past wouldn’t result in the end of the world. (They’re certainly more credible than that entry on Kevin Walsh) But for now, lets assume if we were caught in a paradox, the Rapture cometh.


I have a few different ideas of how the futurinos (as I’ve aptly named them) could interact the past, with little to no destructive disturbance:

- Send in realistic looking data collectors. A society capable of time travel should also be capable of insanely realistic-looking birds. These cyborg birds could also have cameras and sensors so microscopic that we can’t even detect them with our primitive technology. You want a safe investment? Nanotechnology.

-What if we have evolved so much that we can transform into whatever we want? For instance, I could become the cutest golden retriever you’ve ever seen, and then show up in the past at a shelter to be adopted and fawned over for the rest of my life. Sweet deal, wouldn’t you agree?

-Maybe the future is conducting experiments with the past that aren’t detrimental to humanity’s progress toward the future. What if planting dinosaur bones or staging Kennedy’s assassination were mere experiments to observe their impact on the human race? These experiments, of course, would have to be greatly calculated as to not disrupt society’s progress, but then again, this is the advanced futurinos were dealing with.


So yeah, I’ve bested Stephen Hawking yet again. Sue me.
I’ll be waiting for you, in the future.





…Oh shit, that was supposed to be my clever sign off, but I haven’t even discussed traveling to the future.

Well, need I even go into it? You can just “Phillip J. Fry” yourself into the future. You know, just “Walt Disney” yourself into the 38th century.
The real money is in bending time backwards to the past. Once you have that, you can just “Encino Man” yourself forward, then bend yourself back to the moment of freezing through some complex physics I’d rather not get in to right now.



Satisfied? Good.
Kevin “Carbonite” Walsh

Things I Find Incredibly Awesome(and theres no reason other people shouldn't find them awesome too) [part 2/3]

Next up in the great list is the only one of the three that can (and will) physically manifest itself in my world. Forgive me if the post is too short for your liking, but I have included a personal reflection period where you can just sit by the computer and daydream about the topic, much like earlier Americans did after listening to FDR's fireside chats. The topic, friends, is of course:

SECRET PASSAGEWAYS

Also referred to (by some) as Secret Passages, these ingenious devices have served practical purposes dating back to the time of the Ancient Egyptians. This great people, who broke the backs of thousands of slaves for entire lifetimes to construct the great pyramids, also built secret passageways to protect burial chambers from grave robbers. (Apparently threat of a Curse isn't deterrent enough)

The secret passage, like the triceratop, was a wonderful asset of Christianity. These passageways would lead to secret rooms where religious types could hide/practice faith in a time when Christians were persecuted for their beliefs.

But, dear friends, the number one purpose Secret Passageways have served over the course of time is... ESCAPE. Yes its true, those in power had secret passages in the event of an attack or uproar, usually leading a safe distance outside one's castle or fortress. Makes sense, but then you don't get the chance to ever use it, and I think that's the real crime.


The secret passage is one of those things you envision when planning your dream home. My dream home also has a cascading waterfall that flows from the second story into a lazy-river below. The difference. This dream is attainable. With precise planning and cooperation of an architect and a team of construction workers, this dream can become a reality.

I can finally have a hidden secret corridor leading to a relaxation room above my garage. Or a fireplace that spins out, revealing a slide down to a sub-basement complex/bomb shelter, where my life can continue (quite pleasantly) even in a post-apocalyptic world. Or possibly it will be a narrow, rugged passage to a small, white room where I can store all the memories of my old life. One day, my young children will discover my secret passageway, and it will drive them wild with delight. Even with the secret out, I could still reap the benefits by sharing that excitement with my son (presumably a son, though me writing that almost curses me to having all daughters).

I must suggest, if you intend to build your own home, that you take a look at these guys. They are engineers with a license in Secret Passageways. They have lots of clever (and functional) designs, and are certainly worth the added 20 grand to your building costs.

It is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.


I have one thing that I must stress before I leave you to your whimsical reflection period.
NO PERVERTS!
Seriously guys, if you are using a secret passageway to rape women or store kiddy porn, GET THE FUCK OUT. No one wants you here, and all you're gonna do is ruin it for the rest of us.

Now, that being said.....Reflect.


Insincerely yours (truly),

Kevin "Bueller, Ferris" Walsh

Things I Find Incredibly Awesome(and theres no reason other people shouldn't find them awesome too) [part 1/3]

I value a few things in life: honesty, symettry, and chronological ordering. Thats why, for post 1 of 3, we're starting with the oldest:

Dinosaurs

(Artist Rendering of a Dino-Man Cohabitation)

All hilarious images aside, Dinosaurs are fucking intense. They ruled the earth for over 160 million years. To put that in perspective, human beings haven't even been around 130,000 years (one/thousandth that amount of time), and we certainly haven't been RULING that long. I'm highly confident we'll all be dead before we can even begin to see the dinosaurs' ruling-record on the horizon. Just ask Al Gore, he would love to talk to you.

Types:

For the sake of time, we're only going to focus on the essentials, the big 5*, the ones the Mississippi school system would most likely claim are the only types of Dinosaur. In essence, I agree.

I'm olde-fashioned when it comes to dinosaurs. Number one in my book, the ferocious Tyrannosaurus Rex. Big ass carnivore, huge head, tail and back legs, with little midget arms, T. can tear you serveal new-ones. King Kong was able to exploit this advantage, however, and defeat this mighty giant, whose bones are now on display at the Field Museum. Don't fret; Kong was later defeated by T-Rex's evil cousin, Godzilla, somewhere in Japan.

Next up, the Brontosaurus. I refuse to refer to it as an Apatosaurus. No, I come from a more romantic time period, when Pluto was a planet, and a Brontosaur was a Brontosaur. They are a hard working animal, often used by crane operators at rock quarries, and are rumored to be very fun to slide down.

Stegosaurus, nature's gladiator. Brian the size of a peanut, sweet coat of armor, and the spikiest tail you could ever have the displeasure of getting struck by.

Velociraptors are excellent hunters. They're also super smart, and can quickly adapt. They remind me of the Borg (star trek reference #1). I wouldn't doubt it if they still existed today, biding thier time until they can recapture the Earth. All I know is that I wouldn't want a Raptor on the other side of my door.

Triceratops, the most prestigious of the dinosaur. Best known for thier role as the Jesus horse, the Triceratops gave the Christians a distinct advantage in the Crusades. Thier heads, a natural shield, with spikes able to wipe out an enitire front line of infidels.

*Pterodactyls are not technically dinosaur. Perhaps one day, I will post on Pterosaur, although that is highly unlikely

Extinction:

One of the coolest aspects of the Dinosaurs, bar none, is the mystery surrounding thier extinction. While some believe it to be due to a natural cooling of the Earth, combined with decreasing oxygen levels that killed off the dinosaurs, the non-lame view is that the Earth was struck by a giant asteroid, or possibly tons of comets.

What a way to go.

An object from space collides with Earth, causing an impact that would make Nagasaki look like Kawasaki. Then, fragements from the space rock cause global firestorms. Yes, raining fire.
Next, in a catoclismic "Insult to Injury", the worldwide dust cloud that forms from the impact blocks out the sun for months, causing steep temperature changes and effectively killing off lots of plant life. Those which need lots of food to survive, i.e. our dinosaurs, would easily fall from such a massive reduction in the food supply.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!! We can only dream of that shit in the movies. (note to self: rent armageddon, and if thats checked out rent deep impact) One of my top 10 ways to die is in an asteroid collision, (future post) and the dinos have already been there, done that.


Dinosaurs......today? :

Many scientists believe that birds are the modern decendants of dinosaurs. I have mixed feeling on this subject. On the one hand, I want to scream "FUCK THAT!!" at the top of my lungs. (as emphasized with the two exclamation points) On the other hand, take a look at a bird, watch its movements, take a look at its head moving side to side. Tell me that's not dinosauric.

But what about real dinosaurs walking amongst us? We've all seen Jurassic Park. That could not happen. And if it could, We've all seen Jurassic Park TWO. I don't have time to deal with a T-Rex running through my neighborhood, eating up dogs all the live-long day. I just don't.

I say leave the dinosaurs where they belong, thriving in the past. Don't re-create them to be some Zoo feature. They deserve more... Unless, of course, we affix weapons to them, and ride our Dinosaurs into battle, like Jesus did, in the old country.

Cheers, Ya'll, Cheers,
Kevin "Edits Old Posts for Consistency" Walsh

Y-2-¿Que?

Today I decided to create a blog and, Voilà, a blog is formed. Imagine if I decided to create more, like a clay pot... or a human child. But alas, those decisions are meant for another day.

This blog is to serve as a window into my thoughts/thought process. It will be a mixture of: facts, "facts", lies, statistics, beliefs, opinions, and the like; all of which will be presented as "Truth".

This post, however, is to serve as a model while I set up the color scheme and layout of this blog.

I apologize, nay; I don't apologize if this wasted your time.


Yours truly,

Kevin "The Jam Band" Walsh