MOVING

hosts. ill be on wordpress now. sorry blogger. you still look great.

http://fatflanagan.wordpress.com/

pipe it.

George and the Magical Hot Tub, part 3

let's talk about bacon. now, this was no ordinary bacon. this was the type of bacon that probably knew truths about life...mainly in mathematics. dont ask me how! it was just special. something extraordinary. one person that was supposed to be present but was out of town was our semi-sweet friend nomi. she is what we like to call a non-jewish jew. let's get one thing straight....she isnt jewish....her parents arent jewish....but she did however grow up in israel so we can say that she is culturally jewish. one of these habits she adopted was not eating pork. theres no reason for this other than her cultural upbringing. so she doesnt eat pork...no big deal. i dont give her crap for not eating pork just like she doesnt give me crap for being straight edge. i mean, she is so respectful of my choice and the reason that i choose to be straight edge that i often send her handwritten thank you notes in the mail with hearts and pictures of me expression my gratitude. these expression range from a classy headshot to an interactive picture such as me hugging a puppy with printed off picture of nomi's face as a mask. SOoooOOoooOoooo cuuuute!!!111onewon.

anyways, all that chit chat was to say that this bacon would have won even NOMI's heart. she would have seen it and knew her no-pork run was over. the shine of the maple syrup beamed through the air like rays of delicious light as the aroma filled our noses. as we were about to dig into george's amazing breakfast, i looked up to see eva drooling, which is actually cleaning her face from the dinner the night prior. thollanders eyes were in the back of his skull as he hypnotically tried to eat the air. laura was rolling up her sleeves in preparation for the bacon grease overflow. anna was rubbing the extra bacon grease on george's bald head because thats what you do in marriage. paul was for some reason taking his clothes off. and lars.....lars? dammit lars! GET OUT OF THE HOT TUB! IT'S BREAKFAST TIME!!!

this was by far the best bacon ive ever had. perfectly cooked with a glaze of maple syrup and probably a bunch of other stuff that george used. black magic being one of them! the scrambled eggs were the perfect consistency with cheese and herbs. hashbrowns? YES PLEASE! we devoured this magnificent meal with no shame. fat bodies....healthy minds.

the afternoon was devoted to digesting the breakfast as well as playing darts and pool. which i rule at by the way. i beat EVERYONE....EVERY TIME! well except george at darts. but he's on a team....so he doesnt count! he's cheating. he couldnt play for long because he had to start cooking dinner. george was the hero of the weekend because of his cooking skills. it was ridiculous, i say!

the ham he prepared for dinner was incredible. i think what made the ham taste so delicious was its combo of spices, herbs, and human seasoning. "human seasoning?" the untrained chef asks. well because george is the king of multi-tasking....he decided to cook the hunk of ham in the hot tub with all of us in it.

this sound disgusting but take the word of everyone there.....IT WAS MAGICAL! the human broth hot tub was the secret ingredient in giving the ham the desired flavor. i can hear anna saying, "SSSSSICK!" as she reads this or more accurately, quickly skims this. sorry anna, no pictures this time. well how about this one. that should appease you.

dont judge us. nor george's unorthodox cooking methods. though seemingly disgusting, THEY PRODUCE RESULTS! and not the result i got from the doctor confirming my type-2 diabetes or the result of my american apparel model audition:

but POSITIVE results. wait, i cant say 'positive' because the diabetes test was a positive and the doctor was also positively sure that i ate one of the medical instruments when she was out of the room. YOU CANT PROVE ANYTHING. so i guess the results that george's cooking produces are.....

mathematically complete. by that, i mean they complete people. everyone is, whether they believe it or not, incomplete until they eat from george's kitchen. here is a documentary explaining this phenomenon.

sidenote: this clip is SO MUCH MORE RIDICULOUS when you realize that they are in a room full of people.

im done writing. making that picture took far too much time and effort. so, the weekend was amazing. feel good, look good, do good, eat good, laugh good. i am very thankful to have such amazing friends.

philosophical dinosaurs

christian historians/RV owners

mennonite inventors

crazy artists

pious drummers

loving feminists

sexy chefs

especially the ones that can cook....BECAUSE I LOVE TO EAT.

endnote: mom, i do NOT have diabetes. please dont think that i went to some canadian doctor who told me i had diabetes. dont send anymore articles about childhood obesity or proper eating habits. thank you. i love you.

I just Googled "the greatest moment of my life"

before i proceed to part 3 of 'George and the Magical Hot Tub', I'd like to share a little something i like to call: pure gold.

canada finally got 'streetview' on google maps and for those that don't know what 'streetview' is, it's similar to street cred but way better. this little internet device allows your to walk the streets (one big step down the middle of the road at a time) of your favorite cities and neighborhoods. it's quite helpful for a couple reasons:

1) showing your friends where your home is

2) showing your stubborn friends that there IS a dairy queen on broadway and trafalgar

3) fantasizing that you are godzilla who destroys cities with snail like speed but can only take out objects that are 3 feet from the street

so pretty much it's the greatest feature of google. theyre really doing it.

the reason it took so long for canada to get this feature is because when google gave them the choice of getting the streetview feature or drinking maple syrup for 3 years straight...well canada obviously chose the latter. google, when (not if) you read this, please promise me that next time you think of an incredible idea and need to offer it to a country, give them another option like "make your own milkshake" or "play in the ball pit at a local fastfood restaurant" JUST to see the look on their faces....and also see what they choose...

so iain and i were hanging out at the bus stop on 4th and trafalgar...looking so super cool when iain pointed and yelled: "LOOK! google car!"

as it passes us, making my family proud was the only thing on my mind. so my middle finger saluted the fruits of 21st century technology. granddad bennett, for one, would be shedding tears of joy as he witnessed his legacy live on. the year was 1969 and granddad bennett was in a middle finger tournament which was the most elite tourney of that time. competitors from all over the globe came to fight over the rigorous course of both physical and psychological extremes. after the 72 hours of battling, my granddad came out the victor. receiving the trophy that trumps all trophies. gold plated....with a wooden middle finger at the top signifying who truly is the master. well, a few years ago for christmas, my granddad passed this on to his successor. at the time i didnt think i was worthy but my granddad saw the needed potential.

for years the trophy sat on my shelf as i passed by it knowing i didnt deserve it....until yesterday. iain ran up to be with his laptop in hand and a smile that would destroy even the meanest of bullies. he showed me something. something magnificent. yesterday was when i became my full ethos. behold:

DESTINY!!

we did it, granddad. we did it.

p.s. the trophy really does exist and my granddad did win it in 1969 and passed it along to me....that part i DIDNT make up.

George and the Magical Hot Tub, part 2

ok, time is going by and my memory is fading so let's see how well i can keep up this story to the accuracy it deserves. the first night (friday) was very relaxing and everyone just settling in with nothing more to do other than stargazing and hot tubbin'. thollander and i took the cold basement because we were the only ones that would see that as an upgrade from our normal sleeping situation. everyone wins. lars slept in the hot tub and wasnt killed because of his superior method. saturday morning came around and i actually woke up fairly early in regards to graham time......i was up and walking around in the AMs. ate a delicious pop tart and drank some coffee as i stood outside admiring the river and morning breeze. the cool zephyr chilled my white thighs, which were exposed because my robe came undone, as the coffee soothed my insides.

the weekend was obviously on a great start. i cant speak for the others that stayed in the cabin saturday but laura, george and i went into town to shop for groceries. the plan was that laura was going to cook saturday night and george was going to cook everything else (sunday morning and sunday night). lunches were no rules...everyone on their own. i was in charge of making sure they chose the appropriate foods because i was the representative of the eating crew. however my main responsibilities were dedicated to the dessert realm because according to my blood sugar level, i was the expert.

we finally departed from the grocery store with the car packed of fresh goodies. im glad i was there for the process because george was obviously inspired by my presence when he chose the basketball sized ham as his main course for sunday nights dinner. sweeeeeet sweeeeet ham.

that night laura made an AWESOME lasagna. super fun dinner that followed the game of "crazy heads". well, i think thats what the game is called, i kinda forgot and instead of asking lars, im just going to guess. and yes, this is yet ANOTHER invention from lars. its really exciting having a real life inventor as a friend. im inspired to invent my own inventions such as: the natural pillow. this has probably been discovered before but im going to take the 'lars technique of attributing self credit to something pre-existing'. it all started when i was at the water fountain and in the corner of my eye, i saw susie approaching. at first i was struck with the irrational fear of her coming up and hitting the back of my head down to crush all my teeth on the metal spigot. but what really happened was probably just as crushing. as my head was recently buzzed, revealed the contour of my skull...she gently grabbed my head fat roll on the back of my noggin and said..."oh what is the scientific name for this fat roll?" NOOOOOOOOO!! is what i screamed inside but then i though, hey, i could use that as a pillow. BOOM! world inventor.

anyways, 'crazy heads' is the most ridiculous game ive ever played and im pretty sure we all lost 10% of our IQs for it. leaving the group still in the "intelligent" realm while i was finally bumped down to the level of smart dog. or mario lopez. the game is simple both in the rules of play and the intellect needed from the players. this game is all about speed. you pick a card from a deck of playing cards and without any noise or the use of your hands, you write out the number or letter with your.....wait for it.......HEAD!!111onewon. CRAZY HEADS! SO ZANY! CRAZY!! AAHHHHH!! LOSIN' MY MIND! well as inane as it sounds, it was actually really fun. especially when everyone became crazy and competitive. we really got into it....which is hilarious to think of us getting "serious" about crazy heads. we should really be ashamed of ourselves. good thing we had a hot tub there to loosin' up the neck muscles.

throughout the entire weekend, we played darts and pool. now this was great. because i love sports, yes i said sports, where i dont have to run around and/or get hit with a ball. and believe it or not...im pretty much a shark in both areas of pub games. george pretty much destroyed everyone in darts....for very good reason. george, a sexy young man of 33, has just become a member of a darts team. this is definitely something to brag about because george can say that he is the youngest member EVER at the LEGION! i dont know what kind of lottery george won but he got the "in" at LEEEEEEGION! an exclusive lounge for the elderly...mainly retired vets. i have yet to join him but word on the street is that rumors of my dart skills have spread like a buffet table at the LEGION and they are looking for younger chaps so that the average age of the team goes from 103 to 94. im always willing to help out. especially when it gives me two boy scout merit badges.....two birds with one stone!

"wouldnt you get 3 merit badges for this event?" asks the guy whose brain is made of used espresso cakes. NO! ill only get 'darts' and 'aide to the elderly'.....i earned my 'buffet' badge LONG AGO when i was a new born and stole all my moms hospital food. it wasnt technically a buffet but the officials in the boy scout world were nonetheless impressed with my speed and agility...especially with such tiny hands.

oh, i found a picture of george and the LEEEEGION MEN!!!

they look great.

theres a short waiting list...because the LEGION is a "one out, one in" kind of place. but its the true 'one out, one in' kinda policy because it deals with life and death.

i really did it with that whole 'legion rant'....a little off topic. whatever. what else happened at the cabin?

there will be a part 3 that is dedicated to bacon...

George and the Magical Hot Tub

pathetic. this is one word that describes my blog habit. my weekly cinnamon roll/blog writing has been distracted by a little thing called: heart disease. now before my moms calls my canadian phone with her american phone to frantically ask me if i really have heart disease....i must admit that i dont. but im sure im pretty close. however, the start of the new school year has definitely been a challenge in trying to find ample time for blog world words.

so im here. now. writing a blog. of course about something that happened over a week ago. i lament not writing enough about my family vacation because the bennett family dynamic makes for good comedy. especially the in(s)ane personality of my mother. that 's' is in parentheses because she is absolutely insane but she its the inane type of insanity instead of the, you know, stabby type of insanity.

however, i have to cut my loses and realize that writing about something that happened months ago would only lead to the worst retelling of a story in history. so on to the story that calls for the title of the blog.

not this past weekend but the weekend prior, a group of went on an excursion to anna's parents cabin in the mountains of washington state. the team: lars, laura, eva, anna, george, paul, thollander, and graham flanagan bennett junior. anna, george and i were in the first car that left at 10am (1pm). those two times are anna's planned time, and anna's actual time of leaving. shes about as punctual as thollanders "clock" he bought from a dollar store. heres a little advice: dont buy an alarm clock from a dollar store....actually, just dont buy anything period from a dollar store if you need something reliable.

the drive wasnt that bad but the highlight of the drive up was a nice little country convenience store we stopped in, in small bum town, washington. i walk in to take a gander at all the great merchandise when my eye catches something quite incredible. a t-shirt. however, this was no ordinary t-shirt but a t-shirt that made you say "oh oh" when you saw it. at first glance, the shirt looked like a budweiser logo but upon closer inspection....it was actually a logo for "buttweiser" and there were three cartoon drawings of butts with thongs. wow.

oh this a whole rack of t-shirts? YES! so george and i start flipping through the selection and come across some gems. there was a michael jackson tribute one, which i ended up buying (of course). however, i do regret not buying the best t-shirt in the store...i really dont know what i was thinking. let me paint the picture of the shirt for you...

as you gaze at the majestic shirt, the first thing you notice is cartoon moose in the middle. what is the moose doing? oh, he is having sexual intercourse. who is the moose having sex with? would obviously be a poor question to ask in this particular case, but rather WHAT is the moose having sex with? a cut down tree, of course! since this is a cartoon, the artist took the liberty in letting the tree have the ability to speak because in a speech box from the tree was not words of love but rather, "what the f--?" due to future public presentation of the shirt by a lucky consumer, the artist had to censor the "f-word" to keep the classiness of the shirt. im glad he did that because i didnt want the picture of the moose humping the tree to lose its classiness...

this lovely picture was surrounded my some words, which formed the best poetry of the 21st century. above the picture was: "when i get drunk..." and below: "i make mistakes!"

incredible. and i fully regret not buying it.

so we arrive at the cabin friday evening and i immediately find a robe to put on. my swim trunks, michael jackson(with the sleeves torn off), and the robe was my official outfit for the entire weekend. after the grand tour, i came to the conclusion that the cabin was totally delicious. a couple "selling points" were: pool table, dart board, and the hot tub. however, the true hidden gem of the weekend was: george. george is anna's husband who is totally awesome. im glad he exists.

big statement? i dont care. i can say whatever i want in this here blog. george was the super glue of the trip as he was responsible for the majority of the cooking. i, of course, was responsible for the majority of the eating. the first example of this was the "quick dinner" we had our first night. "hey graham, you want a grilled cheese?" asked george. immediately my response was YES because i love grilled cheeses. hot cheese? dont mind if i do thank you very much!

while waiting for my sandwich, i decide to spend my time wisely so i started cleaning out all my bellybutton lint. after the last piece is pulled out, i realized i had enough to make a completely new shirt. yay goody, a FREE shirt! go green people. right as i was starting to assemble my new creation, george hands me the sandwich.

grilled cheese? george thinks THIS is a grilled cheese? this king sandwich was yes grilled but with: cheddar cheese, turkey, mayonnaise, honey mustard, tomato, caramelized onions AND pure lust. my eyes went dead when i consumed this hearty sandwich--shameless.

the rest of the peoples arrived later and the hot tubbin' began. oh, well the hot tubbin' started for anna the second we walked in...hours before the rest of us. you know, there are some girls that arent as "domesticated" as other traditional housewives, which is fine...but i believe anna takes this anti-standard to a new level. its as if someone tried to domesticate a dinosaur for the purpose of being a guide-dino for the blind....its just not gonna happen and more than likely someone will be killed.

so anyways, since the rest of the team arrived late, the night was just hot tubbin'. and thanks to lars, whose family not only brought hot tubs to canada BUT also invented the most efficient hot tub sitting position to maximize hot tubbin' time. someone employing this maneuver can stay in the hot tub for DAYS without dying. now, i would love to share this knowledge....but this particular move is going to have to cost you...

ok thats good for now...ill discuss more about the delicious foods and good times in a little bit.

Family Vacation 2k9: the Sociology of Mom

well its been a while since ive posted so the people who read only this to stay in touch with me are probably very worried on my whereabouts...and im interested to understand what their image of me is if they only get a taste from my cyber life. i mean, everything i write in this private journal is 100% accurate. i hate people who employ hyperbole....they are straight up liars in my book.

speaking of which, you should buy my book here: GRAHAM'S BOOK

instead of conventional packaging, each book is delivered to the new master chef in a big jar of mayonnaise. just screw off the 10 inch wide cap, dunk hand in vat, pull out book, lick clean, turn to page 32, and start making your very own spaghetti and meatmayonnaiseballs. now, for all you health nuts out there (martha), you can turn to page 67 for a 'lighter' meal:

4 tablespoons of mayonnaise

4 skittles

dont throw the tablespoon in the sink because this is pretty much what youll be using. its called the "graham's 4 bite anti-depressant". total calories: 510. my advice is not to strain the body in any way because your cholesterol will be the through the roof.

dangerous? maybe. BUT pages 390-400 are dedicated to troubleshooting body malfunctions. youre gonna need to read those pages.

ANYWAYS, i feel so stupid self-promoting my book. i dont mean to squeeze my own pepper here, but...im pretty proud of my first book.

aside from writing and publishing my book, my family came to vancouver from august 9th to the 18th for our family summer vacation extraordinaire. in the midst of the christmas 2k8 disaster, we managed to plan our vacation in vancouver. we thought that since i was already up here and taking summer school, it wouldve been to hard to figure out summer schedules to work out with my parents and two siblings....steve and martha.

this rift in my normal life was filled with family funtimes (clownings) with a dash of arguments and awkwardtimes. my mom, though thoroughly trained in the arts of being a southern belle, sometimes exhibits a complete lack of social awareness. but at least she looks great! same haircut since she won miss western high in high school.

so since you are asking the question, "how is mommy j socially unaware sometimes?" then i have no choice to present the family vacation not in chronological order.

incident 1 of 902938457:

as i was driving the rental car around vancouver and various tourist-friendly places around vancouver, i realized that i was an adult. i know there are several different questionable factors that go into the determination of an adult, such as:

voting age, drinking age, puberty, homeowning, financial independence, out of school, being a parent, killing a lion, various other tribal rites etc etc, the list goes on and on but i was never sure if i was an adult or not until this trip. upon extensive investigation, i have come to the conclusion that the only way you can be an adult is IF you are the one that drives in a vacation.

this responsibility is only deemed fit for a full-fledged adult. and once you are an adult, you must pronounce the word 'adult' correctly: with the emphasis on the A syllable rather than the U. not uhdUlt but A-dult. the A is like the A in 'apple'....you would never say, "excuse me martha, the uh-pple pie that you refuse to eat because you are some sort of health nut has now managed to make its way all over evas face"

so as adult me was driving the family-filled rental car to victoria, bc for a day or two, we had to take a ferry. we end up being late to the first ferry because we just had to stop in a white spot restaurant which is like a canadian classier Denny's. the breakfasts we had were simply shameful and my dad and i felt awful afterwards. my sister of course filled her new stomach...she replaced her God-given stomach with an empty hacky-sack she stole from a hippie when he was cleaning out his bong with diet coke...with a piece of toast and a couple bites of yogurt. im hesitant to say "bites" when talking about yogurt but "sips" definitely doesnt work and "slurps" might not be academically acceptable which shouldnt bother me since i care SO MUCH about being academically appropriate in this blog.

anyways, God told me he was thoroughly disappointed in my sisters decision to use a used hacky-sack when he clearly created the beach ball as a suitable stomach replacement. quit laughing. start learning.

we finally drive onto the ferry along with several other motor vehicles on a collective quest for victoria on vancouver island. we park and begin to get out of the car in order to go upstairs and snag prime seats on the ferry. and let me tell you, snagging prime seats on a ferry is serious business. my dad, sister and i were out of the car ready to go in seconds...my mom however, likes to take her sweet time getting out of the car. it doesnt matter where we are or where we have to be, my mom WILL spend 10 minutes deciding which visor is best for the specific occasion.

so as my mother was meticulously gathering her things to put in her zesty summer tote bag, my sister and dad made a run for it. i, of course being the the favorite of the family, stayed so my mother wouldnt be alone. things were looking encouraging when one of her legs was out of the opened door. however, this is where things got socially awkward.

since her door was open, she was blocking the back door of another car beside us. the drive had walked around and was waiting for my mom so he could get into his car and retrieve his child from the car seat. this particular stranger wasnt prepared for my mom's inability to exit a car in race car drivers speed, much less 10 minutes.

now, this could have been an innocent mistake, HOWEVER, my mom made eye contact with the guy waiting and completely knew he was waiting on her. this social exchange of recognizing each other's purpose and existence would lead to a couple of normal responses:

1) "oh sorry, i didnt know you were there, let me get out of the way" and then grab your things to exit the car so you arent in the way

OR, if you plan on taking a nap first or finish a 1500 piece puzzle before exiting a car like my mother, then this response is acceptable:

2) "oh sorry, i think ill be a while, let me shut this door so you can get your things for a minute" and then pull your leg in and shut the door.

unfortunately, my mother took the unorthodox road which was to smile and stay put. the guy stood patiently as i apologized and begged my mother to hurry up or at least shut the door. "oh that isnt that awkward of an incident" you may say...well this lasted FOREVER! even one minute of two strangers staring at one another with "what the hell is going on?" faces feels like an eternity.

i was pleading with my mother but apparently gathering the right possessions requires full attention and the need to block any outside sound or influence. as i was speaking to her, i could just see her looking into her tote bag, not acknowledging my existence (much less the poor miserable and surprisingly patient stranger), mouthing to herself, "i wonder if im going to need my hairdryer for this hour long ferry ride.."

internal humiliation burns began to weaken my body and the rest of my strength was dedicated to informing this stranger, who actually had time to makeshift a stool out of the stinks and trash he found around his car, about my mothers car-exiting condition and apologizing for wasting his life.

as the last water buffalo was crammed in the spacious tote bag, my mom finally exited the car. SUCCESS! finally the guy was able to get his child, who was now 13 years old, out of the car to be reunited with the family.

as i was questioning my mom about her thought process in that situation, she said, "well i knew he was there!" to which i responded with, "yes i know, which makes things worse!" but she explained that she translated the courteous smile from the gentleman on their first eye contact exchange to mean, "oh hello ma'am, i need to get my child out of that seat and your door is granting me sub-optimal access, but thats ok, take as long as you want."

since i was an Adult now, i thoroughly and firmly explained to my mother of her social faux pas. so which is replied, "i dont know why you are yelling at me."

i ended my lecture on social courtesy and manner with, "quit crying. start learning."

we finally begin out voyage to the upper decks to take in the beautiful british columbia scenery. suddenly we are halted by a sea of people returning to their cars. whats this? then my dad and sister appear to inform us that the ferry ride was over. great. all that effort for NOTHING.

The Wax Mistake, continued

so there i was, standing in the nunnery kitchen with a back that would make a baby say, "damn i need to shave my behind". i was smiling more because the pain was over. my skin was rosy red and starting to inflame. of course the blood was still squirting because every open pore was like a busted door in the jail cell of grahamskin prison. ESCAPE!

i thought i was done. no problem here. then nomi looked at me and said, "well now its weird because your back is bald and your chest is full"

then the discussion of waxing my chest was hot on everyone's minds. except mine of course. no no no no no nono noooooo i pleaded but they kept arguing for it. eva and nomi were CERTAIN that if they just wax off the top corners then it wold look so much better. i, knowing the ways of the chest hairs, KNEW this was a bad idea. the idea of a unnatural line across the top of the chest hair was the worst idea ever. because it would look so out of place. people would see it and say, "well i know thats not natural, did he wax only part of it....to try to shape it? what a freak!"

however, they wouldnt budge on their foolish idea and insisted i was wrong. "it would look so much better if those top corners were gone..." thollander decides to chime in by siding with the idiot ladies.

"COME ON! THOLLANDER! you know damn well that this is a horrible idea!" i yelled

"oh yeah, most definitely" he replied

i hate thollander because all he wants is misery in my life. nomi and eva were just foolish but thollander knew better!

finally i cracked and decided to let them wax the top corners so they would KNOW that they were wrong and i was right. and they would finally see how STUPID it was going to look. nomi was giddy as she was nuking the lava wax. hated life i did.

as she applied the liquid death to my chest, any sort of endorphins that were running through my adrenaline filled body were exhausted during the back episode. the pain was so much worse. she ripped away. stood back. and busted out laughing because of how dumb it looked. OF COURSE IT LOOKS DUMB! i called it. i would love to say i won this argument but i feel i lost since chest hairs were ripped from my body.

i wanted to leave it. i was done. this was so stupid.

but nomi's peer pressure kicked in again and at this point, i wasnt thinking clearly at all. i was a mess. im pretty sure she had in mind that she was going to take on my whole chest inch by inch.

"theres that little part in the middle that pops out above your shirt, let me get that at least.."

fine. whatever. dammit.

she ripped throat.

everyone is laughing at this point as i go to the mirror to assess the situation. was it halloween? my chest looked like a hideous heart. this asymmetrical line that ran across the top of my chest signified the level of hatred i had in my body. when people say, "ive had it up to here!" they have to make some indicator with their hand but this is never an accurate portrayal. i, on the other hand, had a distinct line that you could see.

coincidentally, it was the same level of dignity that id lost.

this looked horrible. i had to think quickly for a way to redeem this tragedy. uhh, lets make it into a joke! we need to make it look horrible so people know its a joke rather than onlookers trying to figure out what the hell i was doing because NO ONE shapes their chest hair!

i act as if i walk around with my shirt popped off all the time and this would be a serious problem BUT nonetheless, if i find myself at the beach soon, then i want to be prepared to impress all the beach babes that have augustinian metaphysics.

in my stupor, i threw out the suggestion of taking away my sternum! TAKE IT AWAY! whatever, we needed to make it look obvious that it was not serious! ANYTHING! nomi's vietnamese hands (she isnt vietnamese, she just has vietnamese hands....apparently...ask her) stoked my zaftig chest with hot dripping wax. my sternum was covered. the density of the sternum forest was impressive....one could get lost in there....dreams fulfilled.

she grabbed the waxing strip and yanked upwards to the sky. now, my back was a bleeder but my chest apparently is hemophiliac. wow, it seemed like every single pore was ready to BLEED! and bled it did. it was miserable. and to make things worse, my sternum forest was apparently quite resilient like my phoenix wings. because nomi had to go over that spot at least 4 times. great.

we got done and took a look at the "progress". it was horrible. i had two perfect square patches of hair on each titte brother. although the "joke" was the objective, it seemed like attaining it wasnt satisfactory. i looked/felt like an idiot. thollander was quite pleased with this new look of mine.

the parts of my chest that were waxed were already WAY WORSE than my back and honest, my tattoo was less painful than this. i really didnt expect there to be so much blood stowed away behind the skin of my chest. i already knew my pectorals werent muscle but i just assumed the cavity was filled with some sort of semi-solid carbohydrate, not blood. but i guess im learning something new everyday.

so im standing in the kitchen with nomi, eva, and matt around me laughing at me. i really wish someone could see in the window because they would have seen what looked like a shirtless rhinoceros standing in the middle of a laughing parade. clearly being mocked for its rotund figure.....and of course its abnormal hair growth.

after several HOURS(minutes) of debating...we finally decided to just go ahead and take the rest of the chest off. i was really reluctant but gave in to the three's recommendation. i sat down and nomi proceeded to heat up the wax once again.

she painstakingly worked her way down my chest. loving every minute of it. and by "painstakingly" i mean, she was working hard and i was receiving all the pain. she approached the hair around my nipplez and was delicately working her way around my nipple as to avoid the potential of a nipple removal. i have to hand it to my chest...it LOVED its hairs. it fought good and hard to keep the hairs but after the 3-4 times nomi had to go over the same spots, the chest would cry blood for each hair. EACH HAIR.

nomi was getting impatient with the need for a tedious nipple application so i just saw her stare at my nipple, touch the outside of it with the wax application strip, hesitate, and then just smear a big glop of wax across my nipple. well clearly she didnt want to bother with it anymore. luckily it wasnt ripped off. because, you know, as a guy, i really need those and all.

so the event was finally in its closing and i felt great. "great" means "waves of shame" in this context. i hate my life.

this was a few weeks ago and my back is still covered in red bumps. awesome.

The Wax Mistake

look, ive done a lot of stupid things. my portfolio has an array of memories that range from countless visits to the hospital to one fateful visit to a prison for a "scared straight" program. warning: the video thats linked features a guy whos favorite word is the f-word. so mom, dont click it...unless you want to live vicariously through your 15 year old son.

regardless of the slew of idiotic choices ive made, the decision i made a couple weeks ago might go down in the "do not do that again" book. which is really full by the way. however, surprisingly "go to prison for a scared straight program" is not in the book. the best part of that day was that the leader of the scared straight program or the 'prison tour guide' was more imaginative and frightening than any of the prisoners. he would describe brutal scenarios and start sentences with "now, if I were a prisoner..." and then we all ate at dennys on the way back. it was awesome. remember the good times, pito? oh, you hate me and regret our friendship? well thats a shame.

back to the story:

it all started when we were discussing our trip to the lake. oh, this is in vancouver by the way. ill return to raleigh, nc stories after this but i really feel i should interject and share this gem. as i was pondering on the subject of sunscreen, i started giggling at the idea that when asking someone to put some on my back, i would have to preface that said volunteer would have to run their fingers through a few "trouble areas" on my back. the trouble areas are certain islands of unwanted hairs. now, before you think i have a body sweater, my trouble areas are not dense rainforests so whatever. my trouble areas include: phoenix wings, bat wings, rib cage fur, and the infamous lower back mat.

for those that are ignorant in the ways of body hair, ill explain each zone so you get a picture of the "party pads". the phoenix wings are hairs that are coming out of the traps in the attempt to provide the ability to fly. bat wings are the upper arm hairs that are the complete opposite of the rest of my arm. if i have a t-shirt on, the arm hairs that are exposed are short, blonde, and growing downward. however, if im at a dance party and things get "wild", then i might pop that sucker off to let my body breath. once that happens, the upper arms reveal longer, darker, and strangely anti-gravity upward growing hairs. unattractive.

the rib cage fur and the infamous lower back mat seem self explanatory. they need to go as well.

eva, who im trying not to clown as much, intelligently and eloquently suggested, "nomi could wax those off for you."

i, whose complete attention was drawn to the cartoonish amount of lettuce in her hair, almost missed her suggestion. not only was i impressed that her attention span lasted through my 30 second explanation of my "trouble areas", but that she would offer some help on the matter.

ridiculous waxing is. thats why i said yes.

nomi, was completely in agreement to this idea because of her sick obsession to either inflict pain on me or let pain happen with no effort of hers to stop it. shes a real meany. yeah thats right, 100% mean, nothing good about her. i hate her. she is the worst. or in the gillan/fresh fashion: she is the ruiner. see, the best part about nomi is that this paragraph is FULL of compliments and nice things but noooooo she will only notice the negative things. silly girl.

so the week preceding the lake trip, nomi and i kept missing a chance to wax my roly-poly flesh. i was crammed with work and didnt have the energy to wake up early. i was up late every night studying HARD with thollander at the grind. and no this was not an appropriately named late night dance club. late night dance club? are their mid-morning dance clubs? im off topic.

the waxing festivities didnt occur in time for the trip. so i strutted my stuff, hair and all, on the beach. the cold, cloudy, lake beach. good times:

we ended the laketimes and arrived back at the nunnery where we lamented that i didnt wax my back for the trip. the day was relatively early so we decided to do it then. great idea! false.

as i popped my shirt off which made michelle blush, thollander laugh, and eva throw up, nomi was microwaving the wax.

thollander and i pleaded with michelle to allow me to lay on the kitchen table for this experiment, she was firm in her sanitary principles and didnt budge. well, the kitchen floor is a close second.

i was ready and happy to rid my back of hairs that served no fashion purpose. i mean honestly, why are they there!?

from the looks of this picture, one might conclude that i dont have a serious hair problem. well thats why my back hairs were elite...they were sneaky in appearance and a victim was clueless until it was too late. "i didnt see anything but something just grazed my face!!" says the victim. terrible.

nomi immediately put her game face on and her "no bullshit, true professional" attitude kicked in as she began to prep me. by prep me, i mean, she told me it was going to hurt.

as she spread the first dollop of wax, or hot lava, my body convulsed as the boiling liquid scalded my skin. "THATS SO HOT!" i squealed. nomi, knowing her sadist nature, probably heated the wax up to an unnecessary temperature just to spite me. the picture below shows the application of the lava wax as well as thollander pointing to my beard, suggesting it should be waxed off as well. jackass.

she ripped away the first strip. and luckily, it wasnt that bad. the spreading of the hot wax was actually way worse than the tear away. for those that know me, know then when pain is upon me, my reaction is to uncontrollably laugh. if im not laughing then two things have occurred: 1) it didnt really hurt or 2) im unconscious

so my high pitched, out of control giggling and out loud laughter began to fill the ears of everyone within a mile radius of the house. nomi had no idea what to do and this really didnt help her professional attitude. her character of being the tough serious pro was quickly broken.

now before you ask, "is she wearing pants?", ill go ahead and answer that. NO!

nomi lives by a few peculiar life guidelines:

a) makes sure to mention that shes from israel in every conversation

b) go to every star trek convention

c) argue that if dogs, who have souls, could talk then it would completely change the relationship however it wouldnt really matter to us since they speak hebrew

d) never wear pants

regent college has been very tolerant of her unique lifestyle and there is actually a special part of orientation dedicated to "nomi preparation" to inform the new students.

now, if you ask her about this photo, she will argue "NO! graham is a liar, i AM wearing shorts but you just cant see them because of my long shirt and the way i was sitting!!" just to appease her, just nod and say, "of course nomi, of course" although we all know she constantly lies and never wears pants.

as nomi was ruthlessly ripping my hairs out, there were a couple immediate problems.

1) my hair, especially my phoenix wings were true fighters. real hardcore hairs that held their ground with the utmost strength and endurance. this meant that not all the hairs tore out so a second and sometimes third and fourth try was needed.

2) the hairs that DID get ripped out decided to leave holes in my skin which obviously was an invitation for blood to escape.

so not only did nomi go over the same spots 3-4 times, but those very spots were bleeding. and let me tell you, hot wax on open wounds IS SO PLEASING!! nomi really knew what i wanted in life. as nomi strategically worked her way down my back, she arrived at the infamous lower back mat which she requested a "helping hand" to hold my pants down. eva-saurus rex offered her claw for the job. so this is by far the most incriminating picture of all three of us:

note the redness where the phoenix wings formally flourished.

the entire time, michelle was heartbroken as if she was watching a torture scene however it was so mesmerizing that she couldnt resist. thollander was yelling out tips for nomi such as: "yeah go over that spot again, im pretty sure you missed a hair", "nomi, im pretty sure it works better if you pull the strip slower" or "the wax is cooling, you should nuke it more". makana provided professional photography.

the back was done and i looked great. by great, i mean my entire back was red, inflamed and covered in dots of blood. but i was smooth...thats what matter, right? the objective was successfully completed but the plan took a wrong turn and what happened next, i truly regret...

to be continued.

TRIFECTA PICTURES

ok, so i found a shoe box under my bed that said:

DO NOT OPEN unless you a) like to party or b) you want to go down memory lane

after 3 sandwiches, 2 baths, and a nap (not including the 2 naps i had in the bath tub), i finally answered both a and b because i couldnt choose just one.

i found pictures of the TRIFECTA: me, jeffron the immortal, spago

jeffron climbin' sexy graham and spagy:

oh hey! summer dresses, summer lovin', summer secrets:

bath time with jeff-kitty:

p.s. these pictures are 100% real. no funny business.

NC Summer '09: of what i can remember about raleigh

raleigh, nc aka the city of oaks is full of great people. i wish to meet those people because all i know are the CLOWNS in that city. however, this fits perfect because from the evidence of this blog alone, you know that im a clown too. a sexy clown. a clown that doesnt have to buy make up because the food that i store on my face (so i dont have to walk all the way back to the refrigerator) acts as a professional concealer that successfully scares children.

the first night in raleigh was pretty special because i was met with a warm welcome. it all started when i went to the morning times, a lovely little coffee shop that is a hang out/place of employment for a lot of my friends. its kinda like 'the max' in saved by the bell but with more awkward touching and less ac slater crotch shots. who am i kidding...jeffron the immortal alone makes up for the 'crotch shot quota' that every team should have. i would proceed to link a picture of ac slater sitting backwards in a chair as he always did in the beloved teen show however google images have failed me. so this ice cold businessman looking to get fresh with YOU will have to suffice.

i cant believe there arent thousands of pictures of ac slater in a backwards chair...there sure were a lot of these, but who the hell cares!?

so i arrived at the morning times and ol' jeffey poo was working hard (and lookin' great) as usual. we lock eyes, and run to each other in the typical slow-mo fashion that you see in various rom coms. well obviously the world just doesnt cut to slow-mo to accommodate to a romantic moment but my lethargic stumble of a run made it look like it did. mission accomplished.

side note: i just realized how lax i am with the use of "mission accomplished". it seems like either everyday activities are missions or that i have no idea what a mission really is.

spago was there as well so the trifecta was BACK IN ACTION. when i was living in raleigh, jeffron, spago, and i formed the sexiest trifecta in all of the southeast. here is a little step by step progression to illustrate the sexiness/awesomeness of the grahamjeffronspago trifecta:

warm:

warmer:

HOT SAUCE:

ok i am thoroughly disappointed in my graphic design skills. upon realizing that there were no 'trifecta' pictures, i decided to make my own awesome picture using a simple program on the computers. and hour and a half later, i have failed like non other. ive downloaded 3 'ms paint' wanna-bes for mac and 2 have failed and 1 is too good for me apparently.

im really pissed off. this is the only thing i hate about macs: THERS NO MS PAINT. with ms paint, i was a MASTER! michelangelo (the artist and the teenage mutant ninja turtle) would fall on the ground to worship the art i would create with the ms paint! but with the mac, nnooooooooooo im left with other means to eventually fail. WHAT THE HELL IS A LAYER!! AND WHY CANT I SELECT THEM BOTH! whatever, im probably just completely dense and my graphic design friends are probably giggling like little school dweebs while muttering, "omg i bet he doesnt know the ctrl+alt+f7+leetdragdiack function uh huh huhuhu huhhh" SHUT UP

FURIOUS I AM!

ok whatever, im over it.

so we hang out at the morning times until jeffron got off work around 1030ish or something. we then left and went to a new cool hip bar called the foundation. it was me, jeffron, spago, and courtney. jeffron was drinking his mandatory mountain dew (he has to drink at least 2 liters and/or base jump from one skyscraper a day to keep his sponsorship). i was drinking what sets the foundation apart from other bars: homemade sodas. boom city! homemade gingerale rules hard.

we were only there for a little bit because everyone was going to be meeting at another new hip bar called busy bee. i was so excited that i may or may not have peed a little when thinking about partying hard with all my friends! jeffron left a little early to go back to the morning times to get his bike and said he was going to meet us there. all three places were around the same block so its alllllll gravy baby.

spago, courtney, and i take the short cut down a well lit, spacious, not creepy at all alley. butterflies are battling in my belly as i take each step towards friendville 2k9. wait a minute, do my eyes deceive me? is that don don in the flesh waiting to greet me with a big hug (with sweaty palms)?

his mustache glistened in the moonlight as my lethargic stumble started up as if i were running after the remains of a oscar meyer wiener car/ice cream truck collision. the butterflies in my stomach must have found my secret sugar stash in one of the artificial folds in my stomach (the ones that i had surgically put in for "future famine" reasons) because they went into extreme flutter mode and popped my belt and pant buttons off.... weird.

so there i was, running towards ol' don don with my pants quickly falling to my ankles. now, a lot of you are probably wondering..."why were his pants dropping?"

well, i think my steroid butterfly story is fine enough BUT if you need more info, well IM SORRY! the excitement and thrill of the night was so overwhelming that everything was hazy!

but honestly, who WOULDNT drop trou? i mean look at him!

as i reached him, we embraced in a brotherly love hug. it. was. magic.

then immediately, he shoved me off like i was covered in mayonnaise! (likely, but i checked, i wasnt)

whats the deal, DON DON!??

then a bunch of my friends jumped out from every nook and cranny that alley had to offer with water balloons in their hands.

IT WAS A TRAP!!!

solid move sending don don to be the bait....they knew i couldnt resist.

as im getting pummeled by water balloons, i realized that maybe my pants being down around my ankles wasnt nearly as helpful as i thought they would be. i was like a sitting duck frantically shimmering in circles as i was bathing in what i hope was just water. i managed to catch one balloon and CREAM jeffron the immortal whos "hey, im gonna go get my bike, ill meet you at busy bee" really meant "hey, im gonna leave you early so i can get you wet"

side note for nomi: note that 'get you wet' did NOT have a wink wink following it SO quit thinking what i know you are thinking. perv.

they eventually ran out of ammo and they all celebrated as if they won the game winning point in a volleyball game. nerds.

my iphone and mom's cellphone were soaked. oh no. i take them out and them off to the nearest dry hands. the iphone is fine but my moms screen was all white. aaaaawwwweeeesome! i thought mommy deary was going to kill me BUT smart thinking by yours truly, i took the battery out and let it dry up for a day. the following day, it worked perfectly! GRAHAM - 1 CELL PHONE WATER DAMAGE - 0!!!!1111onewoneleven

after that, we all went to busy bee to hang out, laugh, touch, taste, etc. we were on the back patio and it was a lovely night to sit outside completely soaking. there was another group of partiers on the patio.....a 21st birthday to be exact. it was a group of loud OMG whooooo girls and the birthday girl was wearing a crown that said "buy me a drink im 21". which i read as, "do something stupid to me". so i did that.

i walked up, and told her i was going to get her a drink. she whoooed, i gringed, and went on my way to the bar. my friend tori was working so i knew i could get something for free AND the idea in my mind wouldnt cost them much.

i told the bartender that i wanted a big glass full of EVERY SINGLE non-alcoholic liquid he had back there. so he proceeded to put in every mixer, every soda, every fruit, every energy drink, every damn thing he had! it was unbelievable. unbelievably high in sugar content.

i walked up to mary ashley ashleigh (i assume that was her name) and gave her the cool beverage. she asked what it was and i said, "oh, the famous suicide version 2.0". i then waited, stared, smiled with my hands under my chin as she took her sip of every taste imaginable.

"mmmm pretty good!" she said.

"really? i mean, yeah, of course its good!" i replied in shock.

"whats in it?" she curiously inquired

"oh, everything the bar had, except alcohol" i said truthfully

"EWWW NO! im NOT gonna drink it!!" she responded with an alcoholic fury

i wish i didnt say anything and made her drink the whole thing. she gave the drink back and we all had a sip. it was so sweet that the back of your eyes hurt after more than one sip.

thats enough for now. more about raleigh later.

oh ps there is a video of the water balloon attack that hopefully ill get my hands on soon.

NC Summer '09: picture...

that sums up the ashleigh/justin wedding weekend:

more extreme version

NC Summer '09: of what i can remember about winston

after having to drop cargo to get the plane off the ground to accommodate to my needs, i left north carolina. i arrived in vancouver only to be in the library full time to write two papers for my book of Daniel class. success! i wrote two 10 pages papers in 5 days. (research, writing, everything). unfortunately i didnt have time to do the wanted illustrations for the papers. maybe next time. after turning those in, i had a couple days to catch my breathe. this was when i wrote part one of the NC adventures. immediately after that, i was full time in the library as well writing my two papers for theology of culture. success. finished on time!

NOW, im free until my next class starting the 27th. so i have time to write in my private journal inconveniently published on a public internet websitepage on a dot com. so i might just have to write about a couple highlights in NC because i have the short term memory of a goldfish.

WINSTON-SALEM:

winston was great because i got to ride my premium cafe racer. 1964 triumph bonneville t120r. riding that around town was so great and i can hardly explain the feeling of riding something that you built from the ground up. flying down the highway knowing that ive touched and tasted every bolt on that machine is both exhilarating and completely terrifying because im not a professional so i could explode without warning. well i guess my amateur mechanic abilities would be warning enough...

winston was full of hanging out with friends and family. erik and i surpassed our rom com quota with ease. for those that dont know what a rom com is, well its the movie genre: romantic comedy.

if i remember correctly, erik loves the rom coms over the com roms but the com roms beat out the rom drams however the com drams would be a strong contender if they hadnt died out in the late 90s.

erik and i (buddies for life):

me, erik, blake, stacey:

garrett wasnt there that evening but i cant forget him because i got to hang with him a lot. this is garrett. i dont know what hes doing in this picture...but note that he thinks covering 10% of his shirt is good enough to protect the whole thing:

unfortunately i cant remember any specific adventure but i do remember having an awesome 100% of the time with all my friends.

oh wait, in winston, i ran into my friend rachel who i went to high school with. she was getting married so my friend patrick and i decided to join their bachelorette party. we fit it well. it was good to hang with some of my high school buddies that i hadnt seen in a while.

here is sarada, me, katie, patrick, kristen, rachel:

they were playing some bachelorette card game that had 'dares' or some odd request on each card. i didnt really know this until from across the bar i hear from rachels mouth, "GRAHAM!! how would you like to spank your mother!?"

appalled i was.

but then i realized what she meant. in high school, rachel was the girl that looked after us with a motherly love SO i called her 'mom'. and no she didnt constantly spank me when i misbehaved in high school BUT this night, she wanted me to spank her. at first, i thought she had lost her mind but she explained that the card told her to. and as we all know, we can never not do something that a little card tells us to do. just a rule of life really.

i decided to give her the whole 'sympathetic dad' routine by telling her that "this is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you". well let me tell you.

my joke turned into a reality when i was crying the entire time i open hand slapped her fanny. (the 'fanny' part will only be hilarious to people from the UK or australia as 'fanny' means something completely different than the innocent north american definition of someone's rear end)

now, those that know me personally (hopefully john milbank soon), know that though i feel emotions, i do NOT cry. so when i say that i was crying when i spanked my 'mom', suspicion arises from the validity of the story. well children of modernity, i have EMPIRICAL evidence that will prove the said event:

i cried. she laughed. well everyone laughed. except my real mom upon viewing this picture. im sure i will get a nice little email about decency and chivalry soon. awesome.

"graham! i cant believe you would disgrace our family by letting your hand graze a woman's fanny! i have developed a 5 point essay about common decency for the 21st century called 'janice's tips on finding the donna reed in all of us'..."

ill make sure to post the email when i get it.

OH!!! speaking of emails, i got one from my mother explaining the whole 'all the way' incident.

my email to her:

"hey mom,

remember that first night i was back in NC when you, dad, martha, and i were eating at midtown cafe and were messing with that waitress. and you said, "he dated the owners daughter....they went all the way". now according to the standard definition of 'all the way', katie and i DIDNT have sex...much less kissed. SO as ive been telling this hilarious story to my friends, im trying to figure out what you meant by 'all the way' because even if you did know the definition, and the circumstances were true, i know you would NEVER share that information in a public conversation so nonchalantly. SOOOO clearly you have another definition of 'all the way' and im curious to what you mean.

love, graham"

her response:

"Oh Graham

I am so sorry that you are telling the Midtown waitress story with miscontrued information. I NEVER said that you and Katie went "all the way!" My gosh, I would never say that to anyone.....plus, I would be COMATOSE if I thought y'all went all the way in the 8th grade....

What I said was that "y'all went all the way back to grade school!! However, with the interrupters we have in our family, that last part of my sentence probably never made it out; and if it did, it was probably drowned out by these rude family interrupters and critics. Does this make sense? Golly, next time I say something that you think is out of character for me, PLEASE ask me about it so that you don't misquote me or even worse, get the wrong impression of me.

Love, Mom

PS. My definition of "all the way" is the same as yours."

well im glad we got that cleared up. however not before i saw katie during rachel's bachelorette party and told her what my mom said. we had a good laugh.

JOHN MILBANK

i am free now. thats right, due to my 'good behavior', i was released from the sticky constraints of the library. and by 'good behavior', i mean, all-nighters with thollander at the grind coffee shop...a cute little 24/7 cafe. im sure they are glad that we are done with our papers too because of the now absent discussions of ontology, ecclesiology, eschatology, etc that filled the air. one of the papers i had to turn in was about JOHN MILBANK and his ECCLESIOLOGY or the fact that ecclesiology is need of some more thinkin' through.

i capitalized his name so he could find it easier when he googles his name and my blog comes up as a result. i got this idea from my friend who has a "serious" blog and posted about tim keller, an author and the pastor of redeemer presbyterian church in nyc. i say "serious" because hers isnt like mine where 90% of the post are about mayonnaise and/or my affinity for adult pajamas. well, tim keller responded on her post which led to the conclusion that he googled his name and her blog came up as a recent result.

SO john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, john milbank, (i assume that the more frequent use of the name will make it show up at the top of the google results)

john milbank is responsible of my excruciating headache tuesday morning between 5am and 6am. i was sweating in my sheets, and the pain was so bad that it made me throw up. it as pure CRAP! and it was the last thing i wanted in celebration of my papers being complete. i blame john milbank's vague and drawn out writing style. theres a big difference between academic writing that is just over your head and poor writing that is unable to convey the appropriate message. john milbank falls in the latter...sorry brother. dont get me wrong, he had some really good stuff to say BUT there were also a lot of inconsistencies....and im pretty sure he made up a few words. SO JOHN MILBANK! if you googled your name, a) you can email me at: fatflanagan@gmail.com to say hey, tell me how your day was, and explain your ecclesiology. AND then ill send you my paper and you can tell me if im right or wrong.

and b) i just really want a theologian to stumbled across my blog to only be completely confused on why some clown that writes dumb stories is critiquing his theology. hilarious. to me. not to him.

SO IF YOU ARE READING THIS POST AND YOU ARE NOT JOHN MILBANK, THEN IM SORRY, BECAUSE THIS WAS AN EXCLUSIVE POST FOR JOHN MILBANK.

key words: john milbank, radical orthodoxy, mayonnaise, ecclesiology, eschatology, king hippo, augustine, bro-zone lair, "sir, youre making a scene"

NC Summer '09 part 1

so im sitting in a coffee shop. typical. however, get ready for the change up....im in a coffee shop in NORTH CAROLINA. raleigh to specific. helios....a coffee shop that i used to stomp when i lived in raleigh. i arrived, said hey and hugged my friend cameron who was working and proceeded to get an iced chai and a carrot cake cupcake for FREE! i figure this is a good time to start writing about my adventures in NC. i arrived about 2 weeks ago. so i have lots to say which means that its going to be a quick overview since ive forgotten everything. useless brain.

soooo for those that know, know that i was on some sort of track towards reaching the ever-so-desired goal of a summer bod. i was sorta working out with iain and thollander and sorta eating healthy. i stress the 'sorta' because i have been putting 'eating cinnamon rolls' in both of those summer bod categories. laugh all you want haters, but eating cinnamon rolls is HARD WORK! especially if the cinnamon roll is attached to the back of a grizzly bear's neck. fear = weight loss

regardless of any twisted summer bod track, my decision to visit north carolina was a disgusting surrender of self respect. when i stepped off the plane, the southern humidity, that engulfed my body, made the chore of salivating part of the past. my mouth opened with no remorse as i shoved any deep fried thing within arms length in my mouth. long story short: i have gained weight since ive been back.

evidence: i recently lost half of my suit in a traveling disaster to the dry cleaners. again, long story short: there is a bus driver in vancouver who is wearing premium suit pants. anyways, because of this i had to purchase a sexy euro cut suit. i bought it in vancouver a week before i left for north carolina and if fit perfectly. however, at the wedding i went to last weekend....the pant pockets were rendered useless as my muffin top hung over and down to my knees. breathing was not an option.

i have been to two wedding thus far and i also had to unfortunately miss one because there were two scheduled on the same day. the first wedding was located in hendersonville, nc....a small mountain town.

so i wrote that first part a couple weeks ago in raleigh, nc. now i am in vancouver AND not only that, i turned in my papers yesterday so i have SOME free time to a) sleep b) party c) dream about partying d) write in the blog. what about eating? oh, well that goes without saying....every possible free time activity will ALWAYS be coupled with eating. does anyone think about eating humans? no? ok, well whatever.

so where was i....oh, hendersonville, nc. the bride and groom were from this quaint little town and we just had a lovely dovely bubbly time there. the highlight of trip, no offense to the bride/groom, was our little visit in a particularly creative custom t-shirt shop. though the wedding was amazing and i had TONS of fun.....this t-shirt store had the "x-factor". it gave me butterflies in my stomach, my face was sore from smiling, and my whole body was tingling from the essence of this place of commerce. granted, darius' heavy breathing on the back of my neck may have added to the sensation but nonetheless, this store was special. and by 'special', i mean, state fair quality.

three dominate shirt themes were: god, alcohol, and patriotism. and sometimes (somehow) all three were having a little tea party on one shirt. one of my favorite poetic shirt employed alliteration in communicating the message of the shirt: "god, guns, and girls: what else does a guy need?"

my answer: class.

however, im pretty sure there was sign on the front door that said, "leave you fuckin' class at the door!" so i guess the shirt was in the clear according to the set standards.

darius and i witness the most hilarious and sad exchange ever. a large american male, and by large i mean, large by american standards. instead of the simple "yes" to the question, "would you like to supersize that?", this man's response would be "hell yeah, and ill take another for the road"

so this man was walking with a shirt that he painstakingly picked out that was an irish themed XXXL that read: "LET'S GET READY TO STUMBLE!?" while strutting through the store to show off his wise choice, another toothless male walked by and said, "ohh nice shirt man!". the large man acknowledged the well deserved compliment and continued on his path. then he provided an audible declaration to himself, and no one else. "i LOVE alcohol!" darius and i watched as this self affirmation occurred and were completely amiss as this man chose to vocally express what a simple inner monologue would have achieved.

after this lovely experience, i walked into the back section of the store. there were....paintings? weird, but i decided to take a gander knowing i would probably run into a portrait of either jesus or robert e lee. ohhhhhh whats this!? my eyes lock on one particular canvas that had more vibrant colors on it than an american apparel shop. is that a white man riding a horse with a sword coming out of his mouth? YES! IVE STUMBLED UPON THE SECOND COMING DESCRIBED IN THE BOOK OF REVELATION!!!! mind you, that 'stumble' was not a reference to that large male's shirt in the previous paragraph. i didnt know i was able to feel the same sensation for another painting as i did with darius the free but this painting was absolutely unbelievable. feast your eyes on this bad boy:

view larger size here

bonus: the owner of the store was the one that painted it. to this day, i regret not buying it. i really blew it on this one.

some special features of this painting:

1) the anger steam coming out of the horse's nostrils

2) heaven is a constant game of jacks under a rainbow

3) jesus opts for golden cowboy boots for apocalyptic adventures

4) is a that a double-sided lightsabre?

5) im pretty sure jesus has cancer if the playground myth of "if your hand is bigger than your face then you have cancer" is true. however, jesus, being all-knowing, wouldnt get tricked into getting hit in the face by his own hand.....so nice try childhood bullies!