Situation: Chris and I worked at Dick’s Phillips 66
The Story: The third and last job that Chris and I had together was at Dick’s Phillips 66, a local gas station in Elmhurst. I needed a second job, so my friend Dan got me a job at Dick’s. A few months later, Chris was looking for work, so I got him a job at Dick’s. Dick’s was great because you didn’t have to do much: you could watch TV, smoke cigarettes (smokes were $1.87 a pack), or anything else that you wanted (I use to play my guitar), and as long as you dropped the money in the safe, closed out the register, and turned off the pumps (a detail Chris forgot once or twice), it was gravy.
What was really eerie about the whole thing was that Clerks came out while we were working there, and people used to come in and call me Dante (notice any resemblance?). Our friend Dan got a ticket from the
Unfortunately, Dick had the misfortune of losing Chris and I at roughly the same time. Chris left for his road trip, and I moved in to the city (not before I broke my patella in Dick’s icy parking lot; I was on workers comp for five weeks). He sold the gas station the month after I left. I think it was because he missed Chris and me so much…
Situation: We quit our shitty jobs at TCBY
Date: Summer/Fall 1988
The Story: During our sophomore years, Chris and I made the horrible, horrible mistake of getting jobs at TCBY. Chris started working there first, and then recruited my miserable ass to work there. It was awful: everyone in
One morning, the douche-bag manager called me at 6:30am and told me I needed to come in and unload a shipment of yogurt. I was supposed to be working part-time, enjoying my summer, and here I was working overtime at a yuppie 31 Flavors. The next time he called me at 6:30am, I told him to get bent. I never showed up again.
After I left, I got a job at Brookstone. A few months later, Chris quit his shitty job at TCBY and came to work with me.
And I always answer, "He's nice."
As is understandable, Chris generates a lot of controversy and is at the center of many urban legends. I hope to dispel some of the more fanciful ones here.
Is it true Chris lost both his kidneys to thieves?
Chris did not lose both his kidneys to thieves. This rumor started because Chris regularly sleeps in a tub of ice.
Is it true that Chris was the only real person ever depicted on a Pez dispenser?
No. The only real person ever depicted on a Pez dispenser was Betsy Ross. Oddly, Chris owns a cat named Betsy Ross.
Is it true Chris' real name is "Christopher?"
Yes. His real name is Christopher. He earned his street name, "Chris," in Boy Scouts.
Is it true that Chris is the founder of a Satanic cult in Michigan?
Chris is does not belong to a Satanic cult in Michigan.
Is it true that Chris was the model for the Gerber Baby?
No. Humphrey Bogart was the Gerber baby. Chris was the Morton's Salt girl.
But as long as you're here, I want to talk about what I'm thankful for this year: the wonderful people I've come to know through this blog. I never would've thought it possible to make friends entirely through the written word. You guys are the fucking best!
Hugs & Big, Slobbery Kisses Like The Ones Your Great-Aunt Ruth Is Gonna Lay On You Today,
Oh, The picture is for you, Flannery. Thanks again!
Echo here, everyone. Just crashing the party to share a story about Chris and I from our days as missionaries in Guatemala.
When Chris and I were nineteen, we decided to take a cross country trip - to become one with nature, to paddle the rivers of our discontent, and to drink Old Milwaukee. It was an uneasy ride fraught with teen angst and bewilderment at a world that was passing us by. Chris was unsure of the world around him. I was unsure of the phalanx of Japanese soldiers, all in their seventies and eighties, who were unaware that WWII was over, blocking our path to freedom.
When we reached Antigua, all hell broke loose. Sure, we had no business paddling out of the Des Plaines River into the Gulf of Mexico, and I'm guessing that neither of us was aware of our relative proximity to Japan in those days.
The first eighteen hours of our captivity were challenging, but then we never expected to have to compete against each other for immunity. The soldiers had erected an obstacle course with vast pits of Jell-O (filled with half naked men and women hell bent on stalling our forward progress) and a table filled with sticks of butter to be eaten before a victor would be crowned.
At stake, of course, was an immunity idol lovingly constructed out of spider monkey feces and play doh - for authenticity. We clubbed each other senseless. Bloody, battered, and broken by the anguish inflicted upon us by our captors, Chris begged me to negotiate with the terrorists for our freedom. I couldn't bring myself to do it. We would have to fight on!
Chris, of course, was more experienced in those days at Jell-O wrestling and eating butter than I, and so, naturally, he won. (You really should see him eat butter. He's like the fucking Kobayashi of the Competitive Dairy Fat Eating Community!)
Ultimately, I did negotiate with the terrorists and Chris received an incentive-laden, multi-year contract with the Yakult Swallows to be the team mascot. Chris is now in Japan, just north of Van Nuys, hoping to return home one day. I am still on the island trying to wiggle my way through the Jell-O wrestling section of the obstacle course. It's all so slippery. I'm thinking this could take a while. Thank gods for free wireless internet service!!!
That's my story and I'm sticking to it... Oh, and one other thing... Butter is not a good tanning agent. Somebody please send some Neo-sporin; the blisters are starting to hurt....
Ferris Bueller made the following observation about his friend Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off:
Pardon my French but Cameron is so tight, that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks you’d have a diamond!
Similar observations could be made about Chris. He was a good, upstanding, suburban Christian kid who didn’t want to get in to trouble and have his parents mad at him. It was actually quite respectable…if you were his grandmother!
That all changed one Friday evening in May of 1990. Chris was left to watch the homestead while his parents, brother, and sister went on vacation. A bunch of us were out at a party at a friend’s house, and we had started harping on Chris about having a party while his parents were out of town. During our senior year, a bunch of us had hosted parties while our parents were out of town, and we wanted Chris to do the same.
The conversation turned to what type of party Chris could host, and someone jokingly said Chris should host Jell-O wrestling. Chris immediately shot down the idea, but we all persisted. It took almost two hours to convince him, but Chris finally caved at about 10:00pm. We immediately left the party, went to various supermarkets in
The next day, we went to Chris’s house to prepare. Chris’s parents had just remodeled the basement, and Chris didn’t want to get anything sticky, so we had to cover his bedroom in Hefty bags. We also had to cover all the windows, so none of the neighbors could look in on what we were doing. We used the remainder of the Jell-O to make Jell-O shots. Guido went out and bought a kiddy pool. We called girls on the phone and gauged their interest in participating on the fight card for the evening. We called our friend Brian and made sure he was bringing his video camera.
That night, Chris hosted the party. We ran it like a WWF event. We interviewed all of the participants and their managers. Our friend Geoff was the ringside announcer. Our friend Garth beat his girlfriend Stephanie in the first match. Guido beat his girlfriend Tracey in the second match. Andy and I beat Christie and Jennifer in a tag-team match, and won the coveted Jell-O belt. People had sex in Chris’s shower. There was Jell-o dripping from the ceiling. Guido (clad in nothing but his skivvies) slipped on the Hefty bags and hit the ground with a thud. It was great.
As I was helping Chris mop up after the party, I remembered thinking that he was a pretty cool guy when he let his hair down. Luckily for all of us, Chris began letting his hair down a lot more in the ensuing years, and became the open-minded, politically-charged, socially-conscious codger I spoke of at the beginning of this post.
On a personal note, I was the steward of the Jell-O wrestling video tape for the last sixteen years. My plan was to transfer the tape to my computer, put the clips up on YouTube, and show you it in its entirety over the next week. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost this little slice of Chris history, and cannot provide a visual account of the event. Just picture a bunch of seventeen and eighteen year olds drenched in Jell-O and you can get a general idea of how the evening turned out.
I rely upon stories and pictures to imagine what Chris' life is like in Northern Michigan. My imagination fills the gaps when needed. This is where it gets dangerous.
I don't know for certain, but I believe Chris lives in a forest. I assume blood-thirsty bears attack his door on Halloween instead of trick-or-treaters. I wouldn't be surprised if his neighbor looks like Ted Kaczynski. I imagine Chris wakes every morning, goes outside nude, shovels up a pan of snow and boils it for his shower.
None of this is probably true, but it'd be hard to convince me otherwise.
Unlike Chris, I'm terrified of nature. I feel queasy if the air I breath lacks diesel fumes. My feet throb if I spend more than 10 minutes walking on anything other than pavement. I begin to predict doomsday when I see too many stars in the night sky. And I'm such a Midwesterner, I suffer high altitude cerebral edema when I drive over a hill taller than 100 feet. And Canadians simply scare the shit out of me.
I could never survive Chris' frontier life in Northern Michigan.
What perplexes me is we grew up in Elmhurst, Illinois, four blocks from one another and lived pretty similar childhoods. How can he rough-it while I get upset if my hotel lacks organic conditioner?
Elmhurst is just outside Chicago. We both spent countless days and nights cruising suburban mini-malls and Chicago neighborhoods. That's our native environment - urban, suburban wilderness - Outback Steakhouse and Gander Mountain, oh my.
But somewhere along the way we split. Chris is at home in the remote wilderness. He enjoys the sound of crickets and wolves howling. He's not paralyzed with fear that the Michigan militia will take him away in the middle of the night.
Chris has traveled extensively. But I have too. But when I was drinking hurricanes on Bourbon Street, Chris was building homes in the Third World. While I reserved rooms at bed-and-breakfasts throughout England, Chris toured North America and slept in motel parking lots.
Does this mean that despite our similar upbringing and travels, Chris is just more worldly than me? Or am I just a pussy?
So, you like Some Guy’s Blog...but do you really know Some Guy? Pass this quiz and you’ll know everything you need to know!
1. Which of the following actually happened to Some Guy?
a. Was beaten up by a Branch Davidian while visiting Waco, Texas
b. Threw up in a Taco Bell bag while driving his Honda Civic
c. Was Grant Miller’s understudy in the York High School production of Star Wars
d. All of the above
e. None of the above
2. Which of the following is an authentic Some Guy quote?
a. “I don’t even like salt water”
b. “I speak Spanish…Sí”
c. “I’m kind of like a girl”
d. All of the above
e. None of the above
3. Which of the following happened at Some Guy’s high school graduation party?
a. Was pinned by his younger sister in a wrestling match
b. Was accosted by a ‘Rent-a-Nerd’
c. Was given a key to the City of
d. All of the above
e. None of the above
4. What is the name of Some Guy’s Cat?
b. Mario Van Peebles
c. The Ass-Man
d. Some Guy’s Cat
5. Which pop-culture icon visited Some Guy in his youth?
a. Twinkie the Kid
b. Mayor McCheese
c. The Kool-Aid Man
d. All of the above
e. None of the above
6. Who did Some Guy call a, “Cunt-Ass Pee-Hole”?
a. George W. Bush
b. Ann Coulter
c. Bill O’Reilly
d. All of the above
e. None of the above
7. In which country did Some Guy help build houses for the poor?
c. South Africa
8. What show does Some Guy watch before going to work every morning?
a. Saved by the Bell
b. Mass for Shut-Ins
c. Fox & Friends
d. All of the above
e. None of the above
9. Some Guy was photographed as a toddler with what on his head?
a. A sombrero
b. A steaming pile of dog-doo
c. A bird
d. A traditional Native American head-dress
10. By what popular nickname is Some Guy also known?
a. The Hypercolor Kid
b. Red Scampi
c. Uncle Grundles
d. Monkey Balls
e. Sir Lumpy of Chorkworth
Answers posted Monday.
1-3 correct answers: You don’t know Some Guy!
4-6 correct answers: Some Guy is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there
7-9 correct answers: You have an unhealthy infatuation with Some Guy
10 correct answers: Are you Some Guy’s mom?
Frank Sirmarco and I have hijacked Some Guy's Blog. Over the next two weeks we will expose Chris and spew our extreme political agenda.
Please feel free to leave any comments or suggestions below!
Have a great day!
Grant Miller, Esq.
Tags: Hijacking, Extreme Political Views
Here you are, expecting a humorous pick-me-up to start your day, and you come here to find...
My normal routine is to generate a few ideas for possible posts on my way into work each day. Typically there's no problem. There's usually something that pops into my head or else some bonehead politician has said something asinine the day before. While I'm sure there was something stupid said yesterday, I wasn't paying good attention. I'm preoccupied with making sure everything's in order before I leave and tending to a printer malfunction at a most inopportune time.
So now I'm stuck. I'm looking around my office trying to create comedy from nothing. Hmm, a Sharpie. Is there anything funny about that? No. Here's a feet & inches calculator. Nothing funny there. How about the latest copy of the Michigan Building Code. Absolutely not. Arrggh!
I'll understand if you never visit my blog again...
Some of the things its guessed correctly: ceiling fan, aardvark, golf tee, nothing (I just kept hitting the no button to see what it would say), parakeet, aircraft carrier.
It did not guess turd or bong.
You can try it online HERE. They even give you more options for answers.
So, if I've worn this jacket and Brando has worn this jacket, then according to the transitive property, it would seem that I am Marlon Brando. Of course, he got WAY more nookie than I'll ever get, so you never know...
LUKE: "Han, can you reach my lightsaber?" (Return Of The Jedi)
PS: I'm adding Coaster Punchman and Bunso (mainly for "outing" Grant Miller) to the blogroll. Welcome!
One example of "knee-jerkiness" that you'll hear all the time is that Senator John McCain is some sort of maverick that doesn't vote in lockstep with other conservatives. He goes his own way. He doesn't let partisanship affect his decisions.
I am here to tell you not to believe it. Before you accept all that the media will try to tell you in the march towards the next presidential election, I urge you to look closely at McCain's voting record, his past statements and current position on Iraq, his flip-flop on Falwell, and his awkward alliance with Dubya after all the shit they did to him in South Carolina. I'm not gonna tell you what to think, just that you look beyond what the talking heads tell you. You should know by now that the talking heads (no, not the band) are worthless bitches.
This post was paid for by the Committee To Quell All The Bullshit Propaganda About John McCain. Thank you.
Over the weekend, Cinemax was featuring a continuous loop of all six Star Wars movies in consecutive order. It was kind of nice to see the original and "Empire Strikes Back", which I hadn't seen in quite a while. While standing at the stove, making tacos Saturday night, I had the first of the series, "Phantom Menace", playing in the background. First things first, the movie is a turdburger, no two ways about it. At any rate, I could hear the dialogue, but wasn't paying close attention. It was at the part where Natalie Portman's character is beseeching the head of the Jar Jar Binks (ugh) clan to aid them in battle. One side note: my friend, Frank, alerted me to the fact that this character was voiced by Brian Blessed of "I, Claudius" fame. Getting on with my unnecessarily long story, Brian Blessed (the character's name is Boss Nass) mulls over the request and decides they will assist. Everyone cheers in a particularly lame fashion. The first thing that popped into my head was:
"Yay! Now the villagers have a place to pray!"
This is usually my response to any lame movie celebration-scene. If you understand why this obscure reference would pop into my head, chances are we could be friends. If not, don't dispair. There will be other opportunities to win my admiration...
**Edited to add: The above quote has nothing to do with Brian Blessed or "I, Claudius". Sorry if that was misleading. Trust me, it is far more low-brow than that.
My family had a bean bag chair. My mom made it. It was black courderoy. It was ultra-comfy. My brother, sister, and I would fight over who got to sit in it. It was also super-close to the TV, perfect for young, growing eyes.
One of these bad boys combined with a hand-knit Afghan (the blanket, not the people) was the epitome of comfort. Of course, that comfort was ruined when my brother and I were rough-housing and one of us tackled the other on top of it, exploding it and releasing millions of little styrofoam beads into the atmosphere.
Life at our house was never quite the same. We never got another bean bag chair. I can't be sure, but this is probably why my parents eventually got divorced several years later. You see, they always tell kids of divorced parents that it isn't their fault, but let's face it, most of the time it is.
- Anything by Buckwheat Zydeco. Fun stuff, I'm just not always in the mood.
- Certain Professor Longhair songs. My I-Pod seems to favor these, so I hear them more than I'd prefer.
- Certain instrumental musicians like Ramsey Lewis and Oscar Peterson. Again, a mood thing.
- "The Girl From Ipanema" by Stan Getz & Joao Gilberto. Pretty song, but tends to be too mellow for me.
- "I've Got A Bike" by Pink Floyd. It's insane and I like it, but only in small doses.
- Occasionally I skip Donovan songs, but only certain ones.
- For some reason I never skip the two Bob Marley songs I have and I'm not a fanatical Marley fan.
- I never seem to skip Los Fabulosos Cadillacs songs.
- I never ever skip "The Obvious Child" by Paul Simon. That song gives me chills each time I hear it. The drums? Come on!
- I never skip They Might Be Giants songs.
- I never skip "Black Betty" by Ram Jam. Probably one of my top one-hit wonder songs.
- I never skip Tenacious D songs.
Anyway, I used to dabble in internet dating until I realized I was having minimal success considering the money I was paying. I've compiled an easy guide detailing key words or phrases that should be red flags when it comes to pursuing someone online. They include:
- I enjoy long walks on the beach. This is about as lazy a cliche as you'll find. I live near a shitload of beaches and, according to Match.com, they should be teeming with these supposed "long-walkers". Strange thing is, I never see them. They also aren't limited to coastal areas or places with lots of lakes. You'll find many of these people in Oklahoma and Nebraska, too.
- I like NASCAR and Tractor Pulls. OK, I guess I could tolerate one or the other, but not both. The two together create some sort of toxic sludge that I'm gonna do my best to avoid. Women like this are rampant in these parts.
- Any profile that mentions Jesus more than 50 times in one paragraph. I don't really need to explain why this one is a non-starter, do I? Cool.
- I don't want someone who plays games. You see this one a lot. I have the sneaking suspicion that the person that writes this is actually a huge game player. And what's so bad about playing games? Are they saying no more "Chutes & Ladders"? What about "Candyland"?
- I love to travel. Obviously. Who doesn't love to travel. Again, lazy. These women usually claim to love camping, too.
- I just got out of a serious relationship. Translation: My ex is a psychotic stalker, so consider yourself warned.
- I am easy-going. This is usually a good thing by any count. The problem is 50% of the people that say this confuse easy-going with boring-as-hell.
- I'm looking for something serious. This woman wants to have babies immediately. If this is not your desire, run for the hills!
I love it when there is crossover between two things I really like.
**Edited to add: Apparently, Bob Mould wrote it, but TMBG performed it. I stand corrected. Thanks to Bryan for pointing this out. See the comments for more...
I may be premature, but this show may just be the heir apparent to "Seinfeld".
- The Mollusk - Ween
- Goodbye Baby - Elmore James
- You And The Clouds Will Still Be Beautiful - XTC
- Bold As Love - Jimi Hendrix Experience
- I Love Your Lovin' Ways - Nina Simone
- Waiting For The Great Leap Forward - Billy Bragg
- I'm Yours, You're Mine - Morphine
- Swing Low, Sweet Cadillac - Dizzy Gillespie
- Hey Pocky A-Way - The Meters
- Had A Dad - Jane's Addiction
I hate to pile on the guy. Wait a second, no I don't. I fucking love it!
- Chappelle's Show
- The Aristocrats (the movie)
- George Carlin
- South Park & Team America: World Police
- My sister telling stories about working in daycare.
- The Daily Show
- Bill Hicks
- I'm sure The Simpsons did, but it's been a while.
Teri has been a frequent commenter here for a while. I sense that she doesn't like Dubya much, either. She is a Family Tree Junkie (thus the name of her blog). She has put me in the "Less Normal Folks" category on her site. I wonder what I have to do to get into the "Downright Deranged" group.
Nobody has a blog about nothing. Apparently I rank as one of his favorite blogs. Don't ask me how that happened. There is an attractive picture up there today of a dead mouse surrounded by leftover Halloween candy.
Sans Pantaloons seems a little off-kilter, in a good way. He does nice, short posts and likes Borat, which is a good omen. Be sure to join him in a game of "Hide The Banana".
I should also take a moment to point out another link to a fellow Elmhurst native, my buddy, Geo, who has dedicated his site to his passion: popular culture. This guy watches even more bad TV than I do. As usual, I will NOT be alphabetizing my list, so deal with it!
You have no idea the agony I was in yesterday. Some construction worker had accidentally cut our cable, so there was no internet or TV in our office yesterday. For a political junkie like myself it was torture. Election days are like the Super Bowl for me. I know it's all bullshit and that these people are a bunch of power-hungry assholes, but I still get into it. Call me a glutton for punishment.
I was sure glad to see some people go (Santorum). I'm still holding my breath on the alleged Webb vistory and it sure would be nice to see Ted Steven's protege Conrad Burns go down. Also, that weiner in Arizona, J.D. Hayworth lost. Good stuff...
The Bush Administration knows how influential my blog is and they know that the posts I WOULD HAVE done today could've played a large part in turning the tide in today's election. They knew that I had to be silenced. They sent some of their goons to disrupt my service and squelch my progressive words of wisdom. Am I misguided? I don't think so. This is what six years under President Fuckbucket has turned me into.
Please. Pretty please with Stem Cells on top. Go out and vote. Show these hypocrite bastards that we think their policies are ruining our country. Ignore all the punditry who will tell you the race is tightening and that it's too close to call. It's all bullshit. We will prevail. They suck and they need to know it. Let's give him the finger right back. What a worthless prick...
**Edited to add: I know we don't get to vote Dubya out, but it sure would be nice to have at least a trace of accountability, something the current Republican Congress has been derelict in providing. Stupid assholes...
I know I promised some tuxedo pictures, but the one time I asked someone to take a picture of me with the bride and groom, it turned out like this:
Anyway, thanks to Guido & Heidi for a wonderful time. For more details, visit Frank's blog...