Pookcast Episode 6 (Christmas)

In what looks like a new Holiday tradition, we filmed a new episode of the Pookcast on Christmas Day. I talk to so many people who can't stand going over to their relative's houses and try to avoid holiday gatherings. I don't understand that one bit, probably because my family is the coolest fucking family in the entire world. Not even the Wilsons (Owen and Luke), Sheens (Charlie, Martin and Emilio Estevez) or the Stillers (Ben and Jerry) are cooler than us, no matter what the movie going public thinks. Truth be told, I'd rather hang out with my family (Kevin included) than any of my friends. That's no slight against my friends at all, but just goes to show that my family rules. On Thanksgiving we filmed one of the most random episodes ever, so I tried to replicate that once again on Christmas. While you can never recreate that same kind of magic, Brian, Stacy, Stefani and I created a brand new beast. This episode once again featured a few not so surprise guests, and I hope you like it. I added a few new effects, so please be sure to leave a comment. And make sure you continue the adventure below with part 2. I hope you had a wonderful holiday season, and check back often for updates from the World Series of Beer Pong (January 1-5 2010) as I will be updating my blog and twitter page (twitter.com/pookondotcom) frequently. Enjoy the Pookcast. Later dudes.

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Part 2



- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

"I Hope Not!"

I found this on the internet while working on Thursday - Day 6 of Afterglow 2009. There's this picture of Tommy crossing his fingers and saying, "I hope not" (check out track #12) in the Will Ferrell Harry Caray voice. This was of course from a SNL skit Space The Infinite Frontier with Will Ferrell and Jeff Goldblum. It was one of the funniest things to ever come out of SNL, and we spent our entire summer quoting this 5 minute skit. We did other things too, but that was one of the more memorable things from this past summer. Any time someone set us up for it, like my Mom saying, "it looks like it is going to rain tonight" we'd cross our fingers, bobble our heads and reply, "I hope not!" Tommy does it the best, and is the closest thing to hearing Will Ferrell or Harry Caray say those three little words. Have fun with this one.

- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

I Wanna Be... The 2009 Edition

Back in 2005 (when I first started this blog, geez can't believe that I've had this thing for almost 5 years) I started a "bucket list" of things that I wanted to be. When you were a child the sky was the limit. You always wanted to grow up to be an astronaut, a fireman or a video game programmer. Hell, I wanted to be a Ghostbuster. And somewhere along the way you grow up and forget about those dreams. And then you are 28 years old and work in a cubicle doing data entry for a travel company. But back in 2005 I started a mostly bogus list of things that I wanted to be. Some of them are achievable, and if I had a list like Jason Lee on "My Name is Earl" I probably could cross them off in due time. But some of them are so far-fetched that I'd need a Robin Williams Genie and more than 3 wishes to make them happen. But all of them are incredibly hilarious and completely random. It's one of those ideas that I wish I would have kept going throughout the years, but after a 4 year hiatus I am bringing them back. So now I present to you the 2009 Edition of I Wanna Be... And make sure you check the Archives on the right and go all the way back to 2005 and see the things that I wanted be back then.

A puppeteer in Jim Henson's Workshop so I can stick my hand up some Muppet ass, #1 on iTunes top podcast list and have the Pookcast available for download around the world, in Beverly Hills cause that's where I wanna be, in my upstairs neighbor's nightly bowling league, didgeridoo player #38,697 in Dewey Cox's army of 50,000 didgeridoos, the Beer that made Milwaukee Famous, a higher rank than Andy on the Richter Scale, a patron in the waiting room in the Play Doh Barber Shop, the first person to successfully check out of and leave the Hotel California, Ram-Man in the upcoming He-Man and the Masters of the Universe remake, an F5 tornado, Jelly from the Southside, a regular caller into The Usinger's Baseball Post Game Show who is eternally positive so that I balance out Peanut Butter from the North Side, a 5G network and have a map big enough to cover aliens in space and dwarf Verizon's 3G network and Sprint's 4G network, able to melt in your mouth and not in your hand, the Prom Queen like Carla, the Cow that started the Great Chicago Fire, a bigger science guy than Bill Nye the Science Guy, the person who pushes the planchette on the Ouija (Luigi) Board when we are in Jim and Mary's basement trying to summon the ghost of Chris Farley, an astronaut 'cause we're all astronauts, confident enough with my sexuality to say that it isn't gay to stare at David Bowie's package at the end of Labyrinth, the alley cat who pops out of the garbage can so that kids at Chuck E Cheese's can throw plastic balls at me, beautiful to look at... precious to hold... if you break it... consider it SOLD, Mrs. Claus' lawyer negotiating the movie rights for The Night Santa Went Crazy, be the one that parties like it's Will2K when everyone else is partying like it's 1999, the One and take the Red Pill so I can stay in Wonderland and see how deep the rabbit hole goes, Tres Locos Man's sidekick Taquito, one of Michael Hupy's Associates, the 6th member of Broken Lizard, the Them in Bonnie Rait's "Let's Give Them Something to Talk About", singing Whale Songs with Boyang, where the Wild Things Are, The Biggest Loser, too loud like Stacy and Stefani, too cool for school, the one they call for a good time, On the road again, up on the stage, playin' star again and turn the page, the first person to count to infinity, beloved by everyone in San Diego, a Jukebox Hero, the prize in the Cracker Jack Box, the person who doesn't want to work but instead wants to bang on the drum all day, the Man in the Yellow Hat, the San Francisco Treat, able to come up with more things that I wanna be every few months instead of every few years...

- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

Pookcast Episode 5 (Thanksgiving)

I promised my cousins that they could appear in an episode of the Pookcast, and Thanksgiving was the perfect time to get them involved. We were all together at Uncle Rick's house, and after dinner we had a few cocktails, and the rest is history. Go ahead and watch, but if you are offended by swear words or partial nudity, then please don't watch. The last thing that I need is some church group or a cadre of mothers tearing down my door trying to chase me out of town with torches and pitchforks. Save that shit for Frankenstein. So you have been warned. Once you press play there is no turning back, and I promise your life will be forever changed after that moment. It may be good or it may be bad, but it will be changed.

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Part 2




- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

Pookcast Episode 4 (Beer Pong Edition) - Part 1

I went down to Columbia, South Carolina to visit my Brother James and his fiance Melissa. I had intended to do a Sports Edition of the Pookcast, but James respectfully declined. I had a lot of interesting questions to ask him, but he didn't want to be on camera. Although I don't understand why (because I live my life in the public eye of the internet courtesy of pookon.com, pookon's ill blog, facebook and twitter) but I have to respect his decision. So I film a Sports Edition later sometime featuring the one and only Brian Kurutz. But I did play some beer pong down there at this bar called SCHOONERS, and after coming come drunk decided to film a beer pong edition. So here is a beer pong edition of the Pookcast (because more editions will follow giving daily updates from the World Series of Beer Pong) for your enjoyment.

Part 1

Part 2



- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

New Hunger Strike : Day 1

So I decided to do another hunger strike, but this one will have a limited time frame instead of being open ended like the last one. For those of you who don't remembered, I stopped eating for no reason and made it 4 days before shoving food in my mouth. This time around, I'm only going to do it for today (Tuesday) and tomorrow (Wednesday) before resuming eating on Thursday, which is Thanksgiving. To ask a Kurutz / Reck not to eat on Thanksgiving is like asking babies not to cry and shit themselves. Some things just happen. But this time around I kind of do have a reason for doing it.

I have been pretty sick lately. Not sick enough to think that it is the swine flu or sick enough to go to the doctor, but still pretty sick for me. I only get sick like 2 times a year, and when I got sick about 2 weeks ago I figured that it was the 2nd time in 2009 when I would be feeling ill. I was wrong. I got sick a few days after getting better, only this time I am experiencing tightness and swelling of the throat. This sucks because it hurts to swallow foods and even breathe. It calms down a bit when I take a bunch of ibuprofen, but I'm starting to wonder if I have a food allergy. I've never been allergic to anything, so I'm sure whether you are born with allergies or if you can develop them over time because the body is constantly changing and adapting. So I'm quitting food for a few days and drinking a ton of water in an attempt to clean out my body. Granted it won't do too much because I'll be eating like a starvin' marvin African on Thursday, but at least I'll go a few days and see what happens. I've been taking vitamins and cold medicines (drinking Dayquil like a bum drinks booze out of a paper bag) and will continue to do so in an effort to rid my body of this garbage. I wish I could promise to go easy on Thanksgiving, but if you've ever been to a Kurutz / Reck party (and chances are you have, because those are the only people who read this blog) there's way too much good food to pass up. It's nearly impossible to not try and eat your body weight in snacks and mashed potatoes.

Hopefully I learn something from this, because I learned nothing from my previous Hunger Strike. I looked back at the posts and true, I did have some sort of revelation of the poor and suffering, but once I started cramming food back into my pie hole, I forgot about it. And I still go nuts when it comes to food. Last night I ate spaghetti in bed because I couldn't sleep knowing that there were leftovers in the fridge. Who needs Kaboom baby? I'll clean that shit up. So there's me eating spaghetti at 3:30 in the morning when I should have been sleeping, not getting fatter. Night time is like the worst time to eat because that just sits in your stomach and you don't burn any of it off. Well, I might. I toss and turn in my sleep so violently that I usually wake up without covers. I blame Coach Gordon Bombay for stealing them, but he looks so god damn innocent that I usually give him a free pass regardless if he actually did do it. That cat could get away with murder. He probably already has. I swear I saw dead bodies being dragged around the alley. Maybe that's why he's always trying to sneak out...

But anyway, that's not what I'm here for. We'll see how the Hunger Strike goes this time, but I figure it will be a whole lot easier than last time because I know when this one will end. And it's going to end in grand fashion on Thanksgiving day when I eat more food than any human should, then sit around and feel sick for the rest of the day. There's a reason that they call it a pattern. It's cause it keeps repeating over and over again. Someday maybe I'll break the pattern, but not yet. I got too much eating to do on Thursday.

- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

Facebook told me to do this

Facebook told me that I was supposed to post this to my website. Since I'm in an abusive relationship with that piece of shit, I do whatever it tells me to or else it will give me another black eye. Seriously. I'm scared of that bitch. She definitely wears the pants in this relationship. I remember once she pushed me down the stairs and blamed it on the dog. I knew that it was her because we don't have a dog. But I just told everyone that she was right. After all, if I say that she isn't right she takes away my credit cards and tells all my friends that I can't go out drinking with them because I am a degenerate piece of shit and I just lost my job, and now she has to support my unemployed ass. Oh yeah, then she tells them about my obsession with Care Bears and that I'm lousy in bed. God damn. Facebook really is a bitch. I'd divorce her ass, but she'd get everything. But since she already has everything, I say screw it. I better just go ahead and post this before she threatens to throw away my Uno cards again. That's the only toy I got to keep when she moved in. And true to the game, she only lets me play in by myself. Since it's the one thing that I have left that is close to sanity, I'll just do what she says. I hate my life.

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- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

(from the Lost Archives - February 13, 2007)

Sometimes I get what I like to call "the Hunger" and it festers inside of me until I satisfy it. I first learned about "the Hunger" from my cat Coach Gordon Bombay when he incessantly meows at me for hours at end until I feed him. His normal feeding time is at 10:00 pm every night, but lately he starts getting "the hunger" at about 7:00 pm and won't shut up until I dump a 1/3 cup of Science Diet into his dish. How does that relate to an article titled "It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time" you ask?

(from the current archives - Tuesday November 10, 2009)

Ever seen the dancing banana singing It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time? It's all over the internet, and it has been for years. I've provided the clip from when they referenced it on Family Guy cause that was funnier than the original. It was one of those random moments that made the show pure genius before they ran out of ideas and just started being wrong and gross. Plus it's a dog wearing a banana costume. I know I'm the first person to criticize people for dressing up their animals, but I'm also the the first to laugh because it looks both ridiculous and hilarious. The fat cat wearing a sweater in Anger Management is one of the funniest moments of that flick. But why am I talking about animals wearing clothes? This was supposed to be about Peanut Butter Jelly Time. Watch the clip.

Peanut Butter Jelly Time sounds like a great time to me, mostly because I love me some sandwich gooey goodness. I ate so many PBJ sandwiches as a kid that I had to take a few years off. In fact, I took some time off from sandwiches in general, but I have since had a new found love for deli meats, cheese or spreads between two slices of bread. My Mom knows this, and keeps her fridge healthily stocked with all sorts of sandwich materials. Once I even tried to take a stack of lunch meats and a stack of bread and shuffle them together like Shaggy and Scooby. It sadly didn't work. I believe that is the day that I grew up and realized that cartoons were not reality. I remember it vividly. It was Sunday afternoon in the Fall of '07. I was 25 years old when my world came crashing down around me, and it was that moment that I segued from childhood to adulthood. It was now what I refer to as the saddest day of my life. But I have since rebounded. I have figured out a way to blend childhood and adulthood. All you have to do is act reasonably grown up at work and in social settings, and then you can goof around the rest of the time. I vow to never loose my childish behavior, and unless they figure out a surgical extraction to remove it from me, I will never fully grow up.

But what does that have to do with Peanut Butter Jelly Time and "the Hunger?" I keep getting sidetracked. Both are childish and primal ideas that are pretty ridiculous. When you're overcome by "the Hunger" or when you start dancing around in a banana costume, all rational thought it usually thrown out the window. And when reasoning and the thought process is gone, that's when true child-like playfulness can occur. And that's when I feel most alive and like myself. It's not sitting in my cubicle falling asleep doing paperwork. It's not when I'm paying bills and stressing over paying back my student loans. It's not when I'm cleaning kitchen floors and taking out the garbage. It's when I'm eating sugar at inappropriate times and ruing my appetite. It's when I laugh at words like "insert", "member" and the "Penal System". It's when I quote movies in adult conversation then laugh because no one else gets it. It's when I stop acting my actual age and just kind of make shit up as I go along. Depending on when or where you hang out with me, you might see different sides of my personality. But I do hope that you see more of the goofy childish one than the one that is struggling with being a responsible and grown up adult. Cause no one wants to see that shit. I'm gonna go make a sandwich, drap a giant banana around my body, and dance around the kitchen. I expect you to do the same. IT'S PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!!!

- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

Pookcast Episode 3

I asked Timmy and Kevin to join me for Episode 3. There was no real structure or topic to this one, we basically just BS'd for a couple of minutes. Ok, so we BS'd for more than a couple of minutes. In that time span I learned that I could not BS a BSer, and that Timmy and Kevin are BS proof. Timmy was sitting over there, and Kevin was sitting over there, and I didn't know which way was up! And that is the most proper introduction that I can possibly give to this video. Enjoy Episode 3!

Part 1



Part 2



- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

Pookcast Episode 2

So I just found out after watching the video as it appears on my blog that only 10 minutes of video was available. The video runs for about 14-15 minutes. My video hosting site only lets me do 10 minute videos, so I'll try to keep them around that length. That's probably not going to happen though, so I'll most likely have to split them up into 2 pieces like I did with this video. So enjoy Episode 2 of the Pookcast. Later dudes!

Part 1



Part 2



- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

Pookcast Episode 1 - Introduction to the Pookcast

- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

If I was a Secretary, I’d file this one under B for Bullshit

(from the Lost Archives - 6/3/09)

So if you don’t already know, I live (for the time being) above the bar Vitucci’s on North Ave. My roommate Joey Kanz works (for the time being) as a bouncer at the bar, which is how we started living there. All that changed last night when the bar owner told us that he was getting booted out of his house by his wife and now needed to live above the bar. So he wants us out asap, but we told him it would take time to find a new place to live and move our shit out. See, he’s our landlord, and we never signed a lease, so he really can do whatever he wants. But that doesn’t make it right. It just makes him an asshole. Things of this magnitude can’t just happen overnight, and we need time to get the ball rolling in order to work the process of finding an apartment/house, signing the lease, paying the deposit and 1^st month’s rent, and moving. We’d be lucky to get that all done by July 1^st, which is what we are telling him that we are going to do. We were planning on moving out at the end of the summer anyway, but the timeliness of this couldn’t have been any worse. Aside from working 40 hours a week (9am-5pm) at my day job, I told my boss at Miller Park I could work 12 out of the 14 home games this month. So that’s 530pm-1000pm weekdays and afternoons on the weekends. This weekend is the Reck Family Christmas Party, I’m working the next weekend after that (12-14), then I’m in Detroit from the 19-21, working the next weekend after that (26-28), then all of the sudden it’s July. I don’t have time for this shit! I purposefully booked myself up during the month of June because I had nothing else going on in my life that I needed to deal with. And then this bastard throws this shit at me because his wife kicks him out of the house cause he’s screwing around with some other chick that isn’t her? Why the hell should that be my fucking problem? Now I don’t mind moving, cause to be honest with you, my downstairs neighbors are starting to piss me off. Vitucci’s may very well be the worst bay in the entire world. At times, I am ashamed to admit that I live there. I like the upstairs (especially my bedroom) and was just really getting settled in with all of the décor that I have added to the place. And now I have to take it down, pack it up, and hang it up in a new place. Plus I have to move my cat Coach Gordon Bombay for the 4^th time. He’s probably getting sick of this shit too.

But if I was a secretary, then I’d probably be too busy scheduling appointments and making coffee to find the time to bitch about this unfortunate circumstance. Oh, and I’d probably also be an old gray haired granny with glasses on the verge of retirement. So I would have worse things to worry about, like my kids putting me in a home.

(from the current archives 10/17/09)

So a lot of time has passed since then and I'm over it now. I now live in this small duplex on Brady Street with Asian Paul and my brother Tim, although they both spend so much time at their girlfriend's houses that they only pay rent here. So it's just me and Coach Gordon Bombay hanging out here. It's not too bad, but there's this family living above us and we kinds gotta start being quiet around 9 pm cause the kids have school in the morning. It's a tough adjustment after the last place, when my downstairs neighbors would rage it until 2 or 230 in the morning. But things are so much better here, and I don't have to deal with that Vitucci's bullshit anymore. My Mom lives next to Vic Vitucci (my old landlord Tony Vitucci's cousin), and he hates his cousin, so whenever I go over there we just talk shit about him. Makes for a pretty interesting conversation. But life isn't too bad here on Brady Street, but I don't what's going to happen after this. Timmy wants to move out of Wisconsin and who the hell knows what Asian Paul wants to do. Personally I'd love to stay here because I don't feel like moving again. If I had things my way in a universe that I could control, I would have a girlfriend/fiancee live here with me, cause this place would be perfect for a young couple just getting started out. It's in a great neighborhood, the rent is affordable and just the right size for that family. But since that's never going to happen, I guess I'll just live here until my rent is up and then go get a 1 bedroom apartment with Coach Bombay, and we'll go from there. But I don't have to worry about that until next year, unless I get evicted for being too loud. And not the "you're being too loud" that Uncle Greg accuses Stacy and Stefani of being, I mean really being too loud. It could happen. I try to be respectful of other people, but I go balls to the walls when I watch movies and listen to music. I always say go big or go home. But I'm already home so I have no choice but to go big. Going big might land me on the streets one day, but since Coach Bombay is from the streets, that means only one of us needs to get adjusted to the new life. But I don't see that happening because I went and pussied out and got more responsible with age. Definitely one of my bigger regrets in life. So now that I'm down to limited raging within a specified time period, my life has become rather mundane. Any suggestions how what I can do from here on out? I don't want to be that old secretary with the bun hair and rope things that fasten to the glasses so that they can hang around your neck. I don't want to be stuck ordering office supplies and signing for packages at my desk in the front lobby while answering telephones and scheduling appointments for my boss. Nobody wants to do that. In order to avoid filing paperwork, making coffee and picking up lunch for everybody, I have to do something and fast. I don't want to be stuck being somebody's secretary. I don't want to have to sleep with the boss to get ahead in life. And now I just realized that I seriously offended anybody who is or knows a secretary. Ah screw it. It's not like I never piss anyone off though. I should be used to the backlash that comes from talking shit about people. So bring it on secretaries. I'm ready for you.

- pookon -

http://www.pookon.com/
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

Pookon's Ill Blog presents: From the Lost Archives...

I guess you can call them the found archives now. But they were never really lost to begin with. I knew exactly where they were - sitting dormant in my unposted section of this blog, trapped in limbo in the "editing stage." What are they? Blog ideas that for whatever reason never got posted or completed. I decided to pick up yet another daunting task and post them you all of you (Kevin) to see, since I think that some of them were actually pretty good ideas. I will now alter any of the old text (and I will include the date from when I wrote it) but simply add new ideas or try to explain my ideas better. Or maybe I might just leave it as is and post it. Who knows. Just another project that I am taking on that prevents me from meeting new people, getting a girlfriend, falling in love, getting married, having kids, etc. You know, all the things that all my friends and people my age are doing right now. I'm a bit of a renegade, so I'm going to go the depressing route and say screw all that junk, I'm gonna sit alone in a dark room listening to 80's pop music and type shit on the internet that no one will probably ever read. Cause that's certainly a more useful thing than trying to better myself, right? I mean, why try to be like everyone else, right? The world needs losers too. There's got to be some kind of balance. Everyone can't winners. That's why the first version of The Matrix failed cause mankind cannot live in a perfect world. Agent Smith taught me that shit. Then he called me Mr. Anderson. I said no, my name is Ted "Theodore" Logan.

But I guess we all make choices. I could choose to not drink PBR and eat sandwiches bigger than my head. I could choose to socialize with people of the opposite sex. I could choose to find a better job. I could chose to not be a loser. I certainly have the ability to make those choices. But for now I am going to choose to post some of my blog entries that would have never seen the light of day if not for the daring adventurer "Sconnie" Reck discovering these lost archives. I hope if you do end up reading this shit, you'll enjoy it. It's because of these blog posts that I don't have 2 1/2 kids and a white picket fence. It's all your fault blog posts. DAMN YOUSE! GOD DAMN YOUSE ALL TO HELL!!

- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email: pookondotcom@gmail.com

I don't wanna die...

Truth be told, no one really does. That it is why explorers used to waste their lives searching for the Fountain of Youth. For besides the Cup of Christ that Dr. Henry "Indiana" Jones Jr. and Henry Jones Sr. drank out of, eternal life does not exist. And even then, they had to remain inside of the temple for eternal life to be bestowed upon them. Since they weren't willing to do that, Indiana Jones got old and Henry Jones Sr. ended up dying. But I would like to live my life for a little bit, and enjoy this shit as long as I am still mobile. So I joined a gym. I decided to start working out a few times a week in a last ditch effort to loose some weight, get in shape, meet a wife, get married, and have some kids. My goal is to do all that shit by the time that I am 30. Cause the last thing that I want is to be old as shit while my kids are growing up. I don't want my wife to have to put the kids and me down for an afternoon nap at the same time. That would suck. So I guess I am putting my sad shitty life story out to anyone who happens to stumble upon this crap, but since Kevin is the only one who reads this, I think that I'm safe from the embarrassment for now. If I am embarrassed that I am fat and ugly, then why write about it then? It's because I remember reading somewhere that writing a journal or blog during this process is therapeutic. For some reason, it helps to put your thoughts and feelings down on paper or hard drive space, because it gets them out in the open. Even if the open is for your own eyes only. That's kind of what this blog is, for my eyes only. Now if I was popular, then I'd have to worry about tons of people making fun of me for being such a whiny crybaby about this crap.

So here it goes. I joined the gym (an Anytime Fitness center a block away from my house) on Thursday May 28, and went there for the first time on Sunday May 30. I plan on going at least 3 times a week, and picked this specific gym because it is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. That way I can go work out at 11:00 pm when there aren't any people there to look at my fat and ugly ass. That is one of the reasons why I have avoided working out all these years because I'm worried that people would look at me in disgust and wonder why they have to share a space with me. When I was last there around 10:30 pm on Sunday, there were only 4 other people in there, so I didn't feel weird trying out the equipment. As you can tell by looking at me, I'm not exactly exercise savvy, so it was a little awkward even turning on the treadmills and other workout equipment. I had to read all of the instructions and keep the time, miles and weight limit to a minimum as I eased myself into it. I'm also planning on biking around more often, which is aided by the fact that the Milwaukee County Bus System put bike racks on the front of buses, which should eventually allow me to bike at least halfway to work. On Sunday, I biked home from Miller Park, and although it was a tough ride for someone who isn't used to it, I made it home. So at least I am taking steps in the right direction. The next thing that I need to work on is eating healthier, but I do have to take it one step at a time.

So hopefully I can get my weight back in check and start looking hot again. I certainly have enough humor and personality to win any girl over, but I lack the confidence and good looks that the ladies love. Hopefully I don't screw this chance to take back my life, because I've already screwed my life up too far. I do have a lot of regrets about my highschool and college days, mostly because I definitely wasn't a stud with the ladies. Now that everyone (including those 4 years younger than me) are getting married and having kids, I feel like my opportunity for that shit is growing smaller by the minute. So I have decided to do something about it, and I just hope that it isn't too little too late. I'd like to think that I have at least 50 years left in my life to make a difference and live it out to the fullest, but it starts with me turning it around. I would like to try and chart my progress somehow (if I do start making any) but I know that no amount of numbers can match the way that I feel if I do get into better health and shape.

So who knows. I may succeed or I may fail. But hell, at least I am trying. It's better than drinking myself retarded, sitting on the couch watching TV, stuffing my face with Twinkies and dying a slow and lonely death. Hell, anything is better than that. If good things to somehow start to find their way towards me, then you, my faithful audience (Kevin), will be the first to know. If you do stumble upon this I'd like to ask for your support in my endeavors. Oh, and if you do know any single women that are interested in a nice fixer-upper project (me), then give me their number. Better I get in touch with them now instead of later. Cause later I'm gonna be so hot that I'll have to fight off women with a stick. And they'll wish they knew me when there was just 1 girl vying for my attention instead of 1,000. But that's just me dreaming for now, because the only women on this planet that gives a shit about me is my Mom. And only because she's the sweetest lady in the entire world. And she has a heart of gold. I'm lucky that at least someone cares about my well being.

I feel good knowing that I am at least trying, and 2 days later, my muscles still hurt. But no pain no gain as they say, so I guess the hurt means that I am gaining. Gaining what, I don't know. I've only been doing this for 2 days now. We'll see what happens after a little more time passes. Hopefully by the next time you'll see me, you won't even recognize me. But chances are I'll never be able to lose this figure that has seen me labeled as "big guy", "large and in charge" and "tons of fun." But I guess it could always be worse. I don't know how, but I'm sure someone out there could present a worse situation that I'd be thankful to not have to deal with. So I guess that is it for now, and I'll write something in a few days. That is, if I'm not too tired to pound out a couple of non coherent sentences on this keyboard. Until then - stay beautiful.

- pookon -

www.pookon.com

email : pookondotcom@gmail.com

So this is what it's like to be 28...

I've been stressing out a lot lately about getting older. All of my friends are getting married and having babies, working real jobs and are upstanding citizens in their respective communities. And me? I'm raging it, living the dream, starting the revolution, occupying myself with Brewers and baseball stuff, playing beer pong and staring in documentaries. For a while, I envied my friends because they seemingly had everything that I was craving, but in fact I do have almost everything that I've always wanted. In case you didn't get the hint in the title, today I turned 28 years old, which is 2 years away from 30. Or I could look at it and say that I just turned 28 years young, and I am still just 3 years removed from college. Not many people are working in their given field and rocking their career right after college. I don't mind my job, but I still feel like it's not what I envisioned myself doing. Hopefully I still have plenty of time to work out all of the kinks before I consider myself an old man. I may not be living society's dream, because they are most likely be telling me to grow up and give up the whole beer pong and drinking thing. But I am almost living my dream. There's just a few things that are keeping my short of my goal.

I have a great family, and the bestest of friends that a guy can ask for. I have 2 jobs (one of them that I love more than life itself) and all of the material earthly possessions that anyone truly needs. The only things that I am lacking are a hot girlfriend/wife (hell, I'd be fine with any girlfriend/wife) and a beer pong win. I've invested so much time and effort into this beer pong thing that I want to see some sort of result. Truth be told, I have been featured in a soon to be released documentary, in several articles and I am well known in the beer pong community, but I have yet to win a CHBPL championship or even a small tournament. A week from Friday, I will get my 2nd chance on the first one (CHBPL championship). In my 2nd season of CHBPL (which was season 3) and my first with Fresno Chris, we made it to the Championship game onlt to lose in 5 games to Slider and Hudson. I've got a better partner now (no offense, but Joey Kanz is amazing) but the competition has gotten better. We're facing arguably the best team in the league in Sean Flood and Ben Beaird, but I'm feeling pretty good about it. It's now or never my friend. As for the girlfriend/wife thing? That one is a little further away from happening. I need to figure out how to meet people, cause once I do and I get comfortable, I can be myself and let my best attributes shine. So I definitely need to work on that one, because I want to still be young enough to goof around with my kids without worrying about bad knees or a stiff back. Plus I think I'd make a pretty sweet Dad. There's something about my youthful joy, exuberance and child like enthusiasm that I think would help me connect with children. And I also think that I would do whatever it takes to make sure that my children would have all of the advantages to succeed in life. Despite my issues with my parents (which I will not get into today) I think that they did do a good job with preparing me for life without them. And I'm better off because they cared. So I guess what it boils down to is that I need to take that next step in my life and settle down and start a family of my own. Even if I am reluctant to grow up.

So I guess I am no worse or better off than I was last year when I turned 27, although I may be a little wiser. In the past year I have gained some more experiences that hopefully will help shape my life for the better, but with a few exceptions, I am happy with where I am at in my life at 28. There is always room for improvement, and I will hopefully continue to take some more steps in the right direction and learn from my prior mistakes. After all, 28 is the new 22 or some shit like that. Isn't that the bullshit that people say to make it sound a little better? I guess. Or I may be wrong. I could be Mr. Bullshit or Dr. I'm Full of Shit, but to be quite honest with you, I'd rather be the one with the Ph.D. But what do I know, I'm just a 28-year-old dude who is making all of this shit up as he goes along. And so it goes. Hell, at least I made it another year. Here's to many more. But since I'm kind of an old man now, it's 1:30 AM and I need to go to sleep. Later dudes, and I hope you look this good when you turn 28.

- pookon -

www.pookon.com
email : pookondotcom@gmail.com

My Boring-Ass Life

My life has turned into a pathetic waste of space. I don't think that what I am doing right now is what I was meant to do. I work at a job that I am indifferent about. I show up for 8 hours a day and do what is required of me. No more, no less. I don't know what I want to do with my life, but I certainly know that this isn't it. When I punch out, I go home, throw together some dinner, then lay on the couch and watch TV. Then I go to sleep and do it all again the next day. It's incredibly boring, but to be quite honest with you, I really don't feel like doing anything at all right now. It could be because of the weather, which forces me to stay home and keep warm. When I watch TV, I am snuggled underneath and electric blanket, and Coach Gordon Bombay (my cat) snuggles up on top of me or beside me. So it's not all bad because I am warm and hanging out with my BFF - best friend forever (really more like my OFF - only friend forever). I don't have the will to work on this blog or my website, both of which are really suffering because of lack of recent content. And I don't feel like calling up a friend or a family member to hang out. I just don't feel like doing anything. Normally I am ok with being a pathetic waste of space, but now my conscience is nagging at me to do something with my life. I'm closing in on 30 (in 2 more years) and my life is just as retarded as it was 10 years ago. Only then I was 18 years old with my whole life in front of me. Now I'm just some 27 year old who thinks that his big break in life is going to come on the opposite end of a Bpong table shooting 40 mm ping pong balls into 16 oz plastic cups. And I have this ridiculous notion that a silly documentary is going to make me a star and I can quit my stupid job and tour the country playing beer pong. Oh, and I become a semi-professional athlete in the process and make dollars off of sponsorships. But wait, there's more! I'm putting all of my eggs in that basket so if that doesn't pan out, I'm screwed. So I sit at the computer and make shit up and wait until the day all of that happens.

While I'm at work I'm filled with excitement about what I'm going to do when I get home, and start making lists of projects that I'm going to complete, but then then couch sucks the life out of me. It's like an unholy beast sent from hell do deter God's plan for me. Simon Birch called himself an instrument of God. If I am in fact an instrument of God, then God must be playing the wrong notes. Or God might be being one-upped by this mystical life-sucking couch. Hard to believe that God is being bested by a davenport that folds out to a bed, but then I realize that God has bigger and better things to do then to smite a davenport. But if I get home and my couch is a smoldering pile of ash, then I'll know that God's will has been done and he's telling me to get off my ass and do something. It's funny that only only an act of God could get me to give up on creating the perfect ass-grove in my hand me down davenport. Because at this moment in my life there is nothing else that can separate my rump from those cushions.

It sucks because everyone else around me is growing up, getting married, starting families, working sweet-ass jobs, having life experiences, and I'm not doing jack shit. I have my 10 year High School Reunion coming up in October of this year, and I'm hesitant to go because I haven't done shit with my life in the last 10 years that I would consider to be worthy enough to brag about to people who were better than me 10 years ago, and probably are better than me today. The worst part about it is that I realize this, yet I do nothing to change my current situation. I expect change to happen to me on its own and that it is not necessary for me to put in the time and the effort. So I really am a pathetic waste of space. But that thought won't deter me from going home, mixing a nice stiff drink, then sitting on the couch watching TV until I fall asleep. I'd hate to say that I've given up on life, but it's starting to look that way. I feel like my best years are behind me and I've lost out on the opportunities to change my life for the better. So I'm doomed to end up as another nameless faceless dude in the crowd and fade off into the night. That is unless someone out there realizes that this Iceman character is pretty sweet and they want to throw some dollars his way. I'm not begging or anything, but a little somethin' somethin' wouldn't hurt. I'm just saying. Help a brotha out man.

So that's how I feel today. And that's kind of who I've felt all year so far. I know it's about 58 days into the year so far, and there are still 307 days left, but so far 2009 has been a total disappointment. But I always get a little depressed in the winter, and usually the only thing that can cheer me up in the return of baseball. Pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training on February 13th! So heads up Iceman, better things await! You have a whole new year of Brewers baseball to look forward to. At least that'll be a good thing to watch while sitting on the couch, right? There I go again, trying to rationalize my current livelihood. As long as I can make it seem ok, I can sleep easier at night. But I sleep easier at night when I pass out sitting up on my couch with my contacts still in. Which kind of happens more often than not. That couch is sucking my will to live, and it's only a matter of time before I do something about it. Hopefully that day is tomorrow. But knowing me, I'm going to spend my life hoping for tomorrow.

And I succumb to it's demonic powers. It appears that I am just not strong enough (or one with God enough) to resist the evil temptation. But even today the couch will not stop. It's an unholy demon hellbent on causing me long lasting fatigue and regret. So while I lie on the couch, injustices are happening to the people of unjust nations, the poor continue being poor, the hungry keep starving and the helpless are not being helped. It's sad but true. And to think that I could stop it all by getting my no-good keyster off of the couch and stand up to all of the hate and suffering and put it right back where it belongs. Every night I come home with grand ambitions of how I will change the world, and the couch beckons for me to lay on it and forget about those world changing ideas. But I don't and I won't, because my ass groove in the couch will not form itself, and as I watched him on the stage my hands were clenched in fists of rage. No angel born in hell, could break that Satan's spell. And as the flames climbed high into the night to light the sacrificial rite, I saw Satan laughing with delight, the day the music died. Bye bye Ms. American Pie indeed. Touche Don McLean, touche. Sad but true. That guy knew exactly what I am talking about.

Rage against the davenport my friends. Rage on! Rage until you can't rage anymore. And maybe someday we can fight this evil demon. We shall band together as one in a final battle of Good vs. Evil, and at the end of the day, Good shall triumph! That day shall come; the prophesies have foretold that glory. But until that day arises, we shall quietly wait for the coming of the Savior of couch dwelling. Who knows who that may be or when he shall come, but await his presence dear friends. He shall come, and when does, the davenports of the world will erupt in flames and they shall be sent back to hell where they belong! And your asses shall be free of their captive clutches. Fear not my friends, for that day shall come. Any day now, that day shall come. Until then - watch out for your behind, and await the coming of he who shall save you!

- pookon -

http://www.pookon.com/

email : pookondotcom@gmail.com