Not really! Go here and check out what I did tonight! At least I remembered the words.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=OHgUYo96lcY
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Cell Phones
I love my cell phone. Chances are, I hate yours.
I'm all about technology. I love the little gadgets that make life a little easier. I love the digital age and all the shit your have to buy to participate. I've owned palm pilots, iPods, laptops, ebook readers, cameras, GPS, and tons of other shit with touch screens. I buy and sell electronic devices more often then Liquid Planet hires new employees. All I can say is...the cell phone thing is out of control.
The Mighty Travis' Suggestions for NOT being the asshole of society:
A. Your friend's joke wasn't that funny, stop laughing so hard.
B. I know that it's cold out, why are you telling me?
C. Your cell phone is not like the phone you grew up with.
Just a few years ago, when you heard the phone ring, you arose from the couch, answered the phone and had a conversation with your friend or family member while in the privacy of your own home. Since the telephone doesn't include a studio quality microphone and speakers, both parties spoke quite loudly so you didn't have to keep saying "what" or repeating yourself. You also talked about everything from the tedious and boring to the most disgusting and unreasonable, because it is a private conversation being shared by 2 consenting adults. The only difference between that phone and your cell phone is that you are now screaming to your friend about how pads with wings really are better while I'm sitting here trying to enjoy my razzleberry pie and coffee. I cannot stand to hear the bullshit that husbands and wives say to each other during the "please let this all end, make sure to pick up the dry cleaning" phone call. I actually don't want to hear those conversations so badly, that I don't break into your home and hide naked behind your shower curtain and spy on you. I'm doing you a favor. So why in the fuck do you choose to bring that phone call to me. I'm talking about the stupid college blond, squawking about how she got so drunk that she didn't mind having 3 dicks in her the night before. I'm talking about the guy who thinks the world is his office and that nobody minds him yelling about his roofing business. What about the kid who must do the "wander-stumble-sideways-backwards-one-footed-touch-everything-I-think-I'm-alone-because-I'm-on-the-phone-dance" right in front of the deposit slips at the bank. Do you ride your bike in your house? No? Really? You mean you never rode your bike in the kitchen while talking on the phone? So what made you think it is OK to talk to your sister while you swerve in and out of the bike lane? Are you really that busy and get so many calls that you can't stand in line at the cashier and not scream about your last doctor's visit? Why are your arms so tired that you need that stupid-ass bluetooth headset hanging off your ear? So you can drive safely? So you can order your McDonald's latte and still talk on the phone? How did industry, business, and boring-daily-family-affairs ever get taken care of before the cell phone? For you big-purse-carrying-the-world-on-my-shoulder-with-cute-straps-ladies...you have a decision to make. You can either carry the phone in your pocket with the vibrate on or turn it off and leave it in the bag. Because if I have to hear the shitty ringtone version of "I Will Survive" while you rummage through your "tote of denial", I will set you on fire with the magnifying glass, tissue, and hairspray you found during the second verse. Your call from Mary-Kay-Avon-Arbonne-Pampered-Chef can wait.
I'm no king of etiquette, but if the call is so goddamn important, answer with a quiet, "Hi, just one second" and either call them back or excuse yourself to the sidewalk or your car. Heaven forbid you miss a call from your buddy who was asshole enough to call when he only had 2 minutes spare.
The best thing about technology making things smaller and more portable is people being able to take their hobbies into public. I hope the coffee shops enjoy some of my really intense drum solos.
I'm all about technology. I love the little gadgets that make life a little easier. I love the digital age and all the shit your have to buy to participate. I've owned palm pilots, iPods, laptops, ebook readers, cameras, GPS, and tons of other shit with touch screens. I buy and sell electronic devices more often then Liquid Planet hires new employees. All I can say is...the cell phone thing is out of control.
The Mighty Travis' Suggestions for NOT being the asshole of society:
A. Your friend's joke wasn't that funny, stop laughing so hard.
B. I know that it's cold out, why are you telling me?
C. Your cell phone is not like the phone you grew up with.
Just a few years ago, when you heard the phone ring, you arose from the couch, answered the phone and had a conversation with your friend or family member while in the privacy of your own home. Since the telephone doesn't include a studio quality microphone and speakers, both parties spoke quite loudly so you didn't have to keep saying "what" or repeating yourself. You also talked about everything from the tedious and boring to the most disgusting and unreasonable, because it is a private conversation being shared by 2 consenting adults. The only difference between that phone and your cell phone is that you are now screaming to your friend about how pads with wings really are better while I'm sitting here trying to enjoy my razzleberry pie and coffee. I cannot stand to hear the bullshit that husbands and wives say to each other during the "please let this all end, make sure to pick up the dry cleaning" phone call. I actually don't want to hear those conversations so badly, that I don't break into your home and hide naked behind your shower curtain and spy on you. I'm doing you a favor. So why in the fuck do you choose to bring that phone call to me. I'm talking about the stupid college blond, squawking about how she got so drunk that she didn't mind having 3 dicks in her the night before. I'm talking about the guy who thinks the world is his office and that nobody minds him yelling about his roofing business. What about the kid who must do the "wander-stumble-sideways-backwards-one-footed-touch-everything-I-think-I'm-alone-because-I'm-on-the-phone-dance" right in front of the deposit slips at the bank. Do you ride your bike in your house? No? Really? You mean you never rode your bike in the kitchen while talking on the phone? So what made you think it is OK to talk to your sister while you swerve in and out of the bike lane? Are you really that busy and get so many calls that you can't stand in line at the cashier and not scream about your last doctor's visit? Why are your arms so tired that you need that stupid-ass bluetooth headset hanging off your ear? So you can drive safely? So you can order your McDonald's latte and still talk on the phone? How did industry, business, and boring-daily-family-affairs ever get taken care of before the cell phone? For you big-purse-carrying-the-world-on-my-shoulder-with-cute-straps-ladies...you have a decision to make. You can either carry the phone in your pocket with the vibrate on or turn it off and leave it in the bag. Because if I have to hear the shitty ringtone version of "I Will Survive" while you rummage through your "tote of denial", I will set you on fire with the magnifying glass, tissue, and hairspray you found during the second verse. Your call from Mary-Kay-Avon-Arbonne-Pampered-Chef can wait.
I'm no king of etiquette, but if the call is so goddamn important, answer with a quiet, "Hi, just one second" and either call them back or excuse yourself to the sidewalk or your car. Heaven forbid you miss a call from your buddy who was asshole enough to call when he only had 2 minutes spare.
The best thing about technology making things smaller and more portable is people being able to take their hobbies into public. I hope the coffee shops enjoy some of my really intense drum solos.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Where's the new blog?
Shut your mouth. How about that?
Just joking. If your reading this, than you have been waiting weeks for a new blog from the brain of the Mighty Travis. So a few updates...
I've been sick for the last 2 days. I've been hurling worse then the morning after a $100, guilt ridden night of underage girls and Stockmans Bar. Really, I have been able to hold down the Gatorade for about an hour before I get to experience the thrill and excitement of such extreme flavors like, Glacial Frost and Fierce Berry yet again. Before you jump on the "Oh God, you have the flu!" bandwagon, I can assure you the culprit is actually a certain burrito joint well known for it's use of aluminum foil. I'm not going to stop going, I will just stop ordering the fish. Now that I'm 7 pounds lighter and feeling a little better, all I want is a burger from the Mo-Club.
Next.
Outside of my front door is a tiny spot of gravel surrounded by my neighbor's fence and my driveway. It is where my lazy ass chooses for my dog to shit when it is the middle of the night and I stand shivering in the doorway. Throughout the winter it is also where I piled most of the snow from my driveway. Picture a couple months of dogshit with 10 to 15 major snowfalls in a spot that only gets like 30 minutes of sunshine. It is a little archeological dig of dogshit. As the snow melts it leaves the dogshit behind like boulders trapped inside a glacier. With the new layer of snow each week my dog could always find new spots. Now my dog won't even leave the cement to walk on it and refuses to shit until I walk him to the alley. Soon the snow will melt and all will be left is the memories of a frozen Missoula winter.
Next.
Be sure to check out my camera phone blog. The link is up in the corner and don't worry there are no pictures of my wee-wee.
Just joking. If your reading this, than you have been waiting weeks for a new blog from the brain of the Mighty Travis. So a few updates...
I've been sick for the last 2 days. I've been hurling worse then the morning after a $100, guilt ridden night of underage girls and Stockmans Bar. Really, I have been able to hold down the Gatorade for about an hour before I get to experience the thrill and excitement of such extreme flavors like, Glacial Frost and Fierce Berry yet again. Before you jump on the "Oh God, you have the flu!" bandwagon, I can assure you the culprit is actually a certain burrito joint well known for it's use of aluminum foil. I'm not going to stop going, I will just stop ordering the fish. Now that I'm 7 pounds lighter and feeling a little better, all I want is a burger from the Mo-Club.
Next.
Outside of my front door is a tiny spot of gravel surrounded by my neighbor's fence and my driveway. It is where my lazy ass chooses for my dog to shit when it is the middle of the night and I stand shivering in the doorway. Throughout the winter it is also where I piled most of the snow from my driveway. Picture a couple months of dogshit with 10 to 15 major snowfalls in a spot that only gets like 30 minutes of sunshine. It is a little archeological dig of dogshit. As the snow melts it leaves the dogshit behind like boulders trapped inside a glacier. With the new layer of snow each week my dog could always find new spots. Now my dog won't even leave the cement to walk on it and refuses to shit until I walk him to the alley. Soon the snow will melt and all will be left is the memories of a frozen Missoula winter.
Next.
Be sure to check out my camera phone blog. The link is up in the corner and don't worry there are no pictures of my wee-wee.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Put on some damn pants!
It is cold out. Before I go outside I usually put on a hoodie and my light down jacket with some gloves. Maybe even a hat. While I'm out in the valley it might get colder, it might snow, you never know. If I arrive at my destination, I might take the coat off, but it there is not a chance I'm taking the hoodie off.
So what the fuck is with these guys with shorts on???? What sort of uber-macho-masculin-bullshit is this??? Listen tough guy, I know it's only a 10 foot walk from your SUV to the IronHorse, but you look like a douchebag. The "chicks dig tough guys thing" only works in High School and maybe some parts of Canada. It is cold out and you should be acting accordingly.
Next...
Neighbor Update!!!
He moved out of the artist space/garage next door! He was using that space as his studio and he was living across town. Guess what? He moved out of both places and found a new house that he uses as both....3 doors down the alley...I see him even more now. Even better? He even has started to show up at Cleric's shows...I'm in hell.
So what the fuck is with these guys with shorts on???? What sort of uber-macho-masculin-bullshit is this??? Listen tough guy, I know it's only a 10 foot walk from your SUV to the IronHorse, but you look like a douchebag. The "chicks dig tough guys thing" only works in High School and maybe some parts of Canada. It is cold out and you should be acting accordingly.
Next...
Neighbor Update!!!
He moved out of the artist space/garage next door! He was using that space as his studio and he was living across town. Guess what? He moved out of both places and found a new house that he uses as both....3 doors down the alley...I see him even more now. Even better? He even has started to show up at Cleric's shows...I'm in hell.
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