Been A While Since I Done One'a These...

Apparently this survey revolves around the suffix "ology." Or is that a prefix? Or a preposition? You know who'd know the answer to those questions for sure? God.

MOUTHOLOGY.*

Q. What is your salad dressing of choice?
Ice water and tartar sauce

Q. What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
Arnie's Shakes and Parental Supervision. It's in Denver. It rules.

Q. What is your favorite sit-down restaurant?
Sherry's Shuck 'n Sit Shack, because nothing says "delicious food" like "tongue twisters that make you swear."

Q. On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant?
About 4 inches by 2 inches?

Q. What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick off of?
Elm

Q. What are your pizza toppings of choice?
Oddly enough, ice water and tartar sauce.

Q. What do you like to put on your toast?
Tears

Q. What is your favorite type of gum?
Wadded up printer paper, flavored with talc

TECHNOLOGY.*

Q. Number of contacts in your cell phone?
Actually, funny story, I lost a contact last week, so I haven't been wearing them.

Q. Number of contacts in your email address book?
Oh, Christ! There it is! In my address book! So, I guess...it looks like there's "one"...and it's really dry. Well, hopefully I can cry this one back to health! Oh boy...this is going to be a "retina-scratching good time!"

Q. What is your wallpaper on your computer?
Actually I just have it painted. Wallpaper is too 1979 for my refined tastes

Q. How many televisions are in your house?
I can't possibly tell you that – you'll have to ask my televologist. I believe he has the most up-to-date numbers.

BIOLOGY.*

Q. Are you right-handed or left-handed?
Thanks. I actually lost both of my hands in a nasty "tartar sauce manufacturing accident" you bastard.

Q. What's your best feature?
My stumps.

Q. Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
The demon C'thulu. My pancreas. Alan Arkin.

Q. Which of your five senses do you think is keenest?
My sense of keening.

Q. When was the last time you had a cavity?
My belly button is my favorite cavity – it's where I keep my gum...or should I say, my "wadded, talc-flavored paper."

Q. What is the heaviest item you lifted last?
This morning I managed to lift my own fat ass. Out of bed. And to the brothel. Then I lifted a dead hooker. Then I don't really remember what happened.

Q. Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
I'm usually awake when I do that. "SHAVE AND A HAIR CUT! TWO BRICKS!!!" Right? Awww...so funny...what'll those guys from the 1920s think of next?!?!?!?


BULL[CRAP]OLOGY.*

Q. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
I already know the date; it came to me in a dream. January 12, 2005. Wait. Oh, crap...that angel was a damn liar.

Q. Is love for real?
No. But you know what is for real? Kit from Knight Rider. I saw him in person.

Q. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
Farty FartFart McFarterson. Because that was my grandfather's name. (More like "grandFARTER!" HA!)

Q. What color do you think looks best on you?
Mirrored

Q. Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake?
I swallowed a football once by accident. I thought it was a brown bowl of tartar sauce.

Q. Have you ever saved someone's life?
No, but I have shaved someone's legs (MY OWN!)

Q. Has someone ever saved yours?
Saved my what? Oh, life? No...except for that guy that saved me from drowning on January 12th of 2005. I never really thanked him for that. Actually...if I remember correctly, I sued him. Boy, that was a fun time in my life...

DAREOLOGY.*

Q. Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000?
I'd do it for a bag of Doritos and a BENDY STRAW!

Q. Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
I'd kiss a member of K.I.S.S. for $20...so long as they didn't get any makeup on my clothes.

Q. Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000
Then I'd leave it as a tip! Ha! Take that, establishment!

Q. Would you never blog again for $50,000?
Only losers blog.

Q. Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
Depends...would it be on a public street somewhere? Because....daaang...HELLO $350,000!!!

Q. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
I'd be lying to you if I said that there isn't any chance that you couldn't possibly see me never doing that. On a public street. Wait. What was the question?

Q. Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
I would. I'd take it to the circus, because they have "acrobats" there that will simply BLOW YOUR FREAKING MIND!

Q. Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000?
That's another question you'd have to pose to my televologist. Let me give you his number: 1-111-11111-111111-1111-111-111-14. I think he lives in Aruba.

DUMBOLOGY.*

Q: What is in your left pocket?
The shame of my ancestors

Q: Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie?
Does the Pope Catholic in the woods/1?!1/?

Q: Do you have hardwood or carpet in your house?
My hardwood matches the drapes, if you know what I mean. And if you don't, then allow me to help: both my hardwood and drapes are brown...and covered in pubic hair.

Q: Do you sit or stand in the shower?

I usually just cower...cry...and pee a little...

Q: Could you live with roommates?
Only if they don't mind living with a guy who likes to burn shoes indoors.

Q: How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
Several million.

Q: Where were you born?
Nowhere. I was "Bourne." Three times.

Q: Last time you had a run-in with the cops?
I might have accidentally stolen a cop car and set a bunch of buildings on fire a couple of months ago.

Q: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Older

Q: Who is number 1 on your top 8?
.125 (HA HA HAAAA!!!! FRACTION COMEDY IS FUNNY!!!!)

LASTOLOGY.*

Q: Friend you talked to?
Oh Christ...really? Sentence fragments? You were doing so well? Well...I'll answer anyway: I talked to my giant rabbit friend Harvey Keitel about ten minutes ago.

Q: Last person you called?
Right now: I call on all of you to end racism, violence, and CSI Miami.

Q: Person you hugged?
I put John Lovitz in a bear hug when he wouldn't leave my apartment.

FAVORITOLOGY.*

Q: Number?
Beetle-Seven

Q: Color?
Beetle-Brown

Q: Season?
Beetle...umm...Autumn.

CURRENTOLOGY.*

Q: Missing someone?
Almost every time I throw stuff at them.

Q: Mood?
Defeated

Q: Listening to?
A tree falling in the woods. Because I'm around.

Q: Watching?
A blinking cursor, and my own sickly reflection.

Q: Worrying about?
My sickly complection...and the next season of Road Rules

RANDOMOLOGY.*

Q: First place you went this morning?
Already told you – Jimmy John's Hooker House on Hanover Street.

Q: What can you not wait to do?
Get in line somewhere!

Q: What's the last movie you saw?
That guy made us all watch a "Sexual Harassment Avoidance" video. I thought it was awesome how all the chicks in the film had big ol' boobies.

Q: Do you smile often?
If I had teeth I would.

Q: Are you a friendly person?
Fuck you. What do you think, Einstein?

Q: Now that the survey's done, what are you going to do?
Gather all the pennies I can find around the house, put them in the tub, and have a "Penny Bath" with lavender soap and vinegar! Then...I don't know...maybe I'll play with Legos and eat Pringles.

The Results are in!!!

And guess what!? I'm still fucking bald!

Sorry. I don't like to bust out the "f" word much -- it's like using the "good" China (as opposed to the "communist" one). The way I see it, there's a time to eat off of the cheap ceramic plates (1,261/1,262nds of the time really...my fraction-friends), and then there is a time to risk thousands of dollars (and the love of your fiancee), break out the 'spensive dishes, and drop that KFC barbecue wing right onto the finest, expensivist, floweryist plate you can find. That's my relationship to the "f" word. Good in moderation, but too fucking much fuck, then you start to distract from the issue...

That issue, of course, being the slow, inevitable retreat of my goddamn hairline (now there's a word I can buddy up with)...coupled with a ever-growing patch of skin peeking its way through the back part of my dome. Those of you who knew me four months ago might remember this little gem, where I bared my soul (as well as a surprising high percentage of my pate) and told the world that I was a balding 27 year old American...and that I chose to fight back by filling up my hair with goopy hair tonic "twice daily."

Well, I thought I'd keep it up for two months, and see how much would of my old hair would return to me. Now, here's the before picture...when I was at, what I like to call, my "most baldest" back in January:



This was my projected hair...at the time...




Finally...the real deal. Four dang months of what I like to call "somewhat inconsistant" application...aaaaaaaand...



Bah! Crap-balls. Let me center that better...



Well...I don't know if "fuller" and "more luscious" would be a good word to describe it. Maybe "greasier." Well...let me try to fluff it out a little bit...give it the old "finger-tip-volume" run-through that I'm famous for:



Well, that's a little better. One might say it's "downright passable," though it does appear that I'm still having same ol' "receding hairline" issues (my generic minoxidil does nothing for that, supposedly). Well...maybe if I try to add even more volume to this bad boy, things would resolve themselves...


Ahh...perfection.


And no, those of you looking to make a snarky little comment about my computer screen: "No, I was not looking at porn." Unless by "porn" you mean "a pornographic web site," in which case I am guilty as charged. Ah...porn...the greatest thing to happen to me since apple juice.

However, on the plus side of this whole "bald dude" thing, due to some "persistent" suggestions by my pretty lady fiancee person, I've managed to lose a little bit of weight (which I may detail later...when I'm in a better mood...and not completely high on opiates...).

Though, admittedly, I'm not nearly the adonis I dreamed of when I first ordered my two-pack of hair growth formula. Ah, well...the eternal quest for exterior beauty surges onward.

Elementary School Confessional

We all carry regrets. Many of us also carry Sucrets, and to those fine people I say: "Bully!'

But for me, the wonderful memories at Arrowhead Elementary School are a bit tainted. I was not a nice kid growing up. I wasn't a bad kid, but for sure, I did a lot of pretty bad things that I'm not proud of. For every "I was the last man standing when we played British Bulldog," there's an "I made fun of the girl with down syndrome in our class." So I thought I'd take this opportunity (since it's on my mind) to air out some of those regrets and secrets and sucrets I've held for the last 15 years.

1) In Mr. Gribble's class, we were rewarded for correct answers in class by being given "shots" at a toy basketball hoop above the door. If you took those shots and made them, you'd earn rewards...like 5 mintues of extra recess time, candy, etc. Well, he'd ask at the end of the week how many "shots" you made in class. I lied about how many I made. A lot. I still feel pretty bad about that.

2) One time I tripped my friend Ronnie playing basketball...by throwing my hip out. He fell to the ground and skinned his elbows and knees pretty good. I told him I didn't mean to do it...but I think I did...in hindsight. I was just really bad at basketball...and I still am...

3) One time I threw an interception during a two-hand-touch football game. I was so pissed off (because the kid tricked me into throwing it to him, even though he was on the other team) that I drop-kicked the ball across the field and stomped away to pout.

4) I was really mean to my 4th grade teacher Ms. Quackenbush. I don't know why...I just liked picking fights with her for some reason. She actually retired from teaching the year after I left her class. To this day, I think I had a hand in her leaving the profession.

5) One time there was a kid running down the cement covered area in our school. I remember thinking "Hey, you're not supposed to run on the cement areas." So I stuck my foot out and tripped him...sending him skidding across the ground...once again giving him some nasty scrapes on his appendages. Incidentally, it was the same kid who made me throw the interception to him. Actually...holy cow...it's this guy. Looks like he landed on his feet, though...which is nice for him. In any event, he's got twice as many friends as I do...so...he's got that going for him...

6) In preschool through 2nd grade I had a crush on a girl named Lisa. In the 3rd through the 6th grade, I had a crush on a girl named Erin. Just to let you know how "smooth" I was around women, the longest conversation I had with either of them was with Erin...when I asked her (during recess), "Hey...did you see Kent go this way?" To which she replied, "No." Then I left. Yes...I was a gradeschool casa nova.

7) When I was a school crossing guard, one time there was a kid at the crosswalk and I didn't get up to guide him across the street. One of the "short bus" bus drivers was in front of the kid when that happened, and she stopped her bus and yelled at me.

8) We were playing Smear the [un-PC-term-for-homosexual] one time (though, at the time I had no concept of the pejorative use of the name -- I just though it meant "weirdo"...just FYI), and my buddy Myles had the football. He tried to jump over a group of people, and I kinda' kicked his legs out from under him when he got airborne. He landed really heavily on his side, got the wind knocked out of him, started crying, and he was asking "who did it." I didn't say that I was the one who did it...but I still feel really bad about it to this day.

Well...that's all I can think of for now. Join me next week, when I take a nap on the keyboard...and you get to see an entertaining sequence of repeating letters!!!