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

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CC Ya Later, Alligator!

We knew that Sabathia was just a rental and that it would be extremely difficult to sign him when he became a free agent. We knew that the Yankees made starting pitching (mainly Sabathia) their #1 target this offseason. We knew that we only had a snowball's chance in hell that he'd take less money to stay with us. We knew that he said the right things about Milwaukee and his time spent here, and I honestly believe that he had a really good time playing for this team, hanging out with his teammates, and seeing this city embrace him as he carried us to the playoffs. We knew that we were a long shot to have the best pitcher on the free agent market, if not the entire league, to toe the rubber for the Brewers come Opening Day 2009. We knew these things when Sabathia came to our team on July 7, 2008. But on December 10, 2008, everything that we already knew finally happened.

But even though we already knew these things, it doesn't make it any easier when it actually happened. CC took the money ($160 million for 7 years from the New York Yankees) and ran, but can you blame him? Suppose you were one of the best people at your job, and Company A offered you $140 million in guaranteed money, while Company B offered you $100 million in guaranteed money. You'd take Company A, right?

Not so fast. Turns out that Company A is an evil company that uses child labor, turns shady deals, is scrutinized by every other company (not to mention the millions of people on the outside watching the company), and the employees at company A are like the hired guns of the Old West - they're in it for the money and don't give a shit about loyalty. Company A is also located in one of the busiest and dirtiest areas on the planet, and it will cost you tons of money to work there, not to mention live in the area. Oh, and everyone at Company A eat babies for lunch. It's mandatory if you work for Company A.

So suddenly company B is looking good. You worked at company B for 2 ½ months and everyone at company B (including every single man, woman and child in company B’s State) loved you. Not only that, but they worshiped you. You were put on a pedestal and was heralded as the savior of the entire year. You were Man of the Year, and everyone wore the same clothes that you did as a tribute to your hard work. You were basically a Saint that could do no wrong. You were arguably one of the best employees in company B’s short history, and you made the biggest difference in 26 years at company B. So what if it is 40 less million dollars. You can’t put a price on happiness.

But wait, there’s more! Company A comes back and offers you $160 million over 7 years, and says that you don’t have to eat babies. Well now it’s a no brainer. You certainly could think of things to do with an additional $60 million dollars. Hell, I could think of things to do with an additional $60 dollars. So suddenly everything bad about Company A doesn't look as bad because now it is tinted in mint green and surrounded by dead Presidents. You can now afford to make changes. And maybe, just maybe, Company A isn't as bad as it looks like from the outside. Maybe the people at Company A are only jerks and assholes to outsiders. But once you're an employee, then you are treated with dignity and respect. But I still can't vouch for the foul mouthed consumers of Company A and how they will treat you. Oh sure, they'll love you at first, but be careful not to screw up. Because if you screw up, you are a $160 million dollar mistake. Hard to write that one off. But that comes with the territory, and that is why you are given $60 million additional dollars to help deal with the pain. You can now dry your tears with $20's whenever you are sad. Or just take a trip somewhere to clear your head. Life's good when your rich. But sadly I'll never know... No one has ever offered me $60 additional anything to go anywhere. I was never presented with the decision, so I can't really do anything than present my "what if" opinion."

So now it's time to stop using fake "Company A + B" scenarios because everyone knows what I am referring to. I just felt like doing it that way. CC Sabathia chose the New York Yankees over the Milwaukee Brewers (or any other team that had yet to make an offer) because there would never be a better offer than the one made by the Yankees. It is obvious that decision came down to the money. As evidenced by reality TV shows (most notably Fear Factor), people will do just about anything for money. Even go live in a city that we really don't want to live in. It may not have not been his ultimate goal (which I think was the San Francisco Giants), but with that additional $60 million dollars he can certainly live anywhere he wants and make anywhere feel just like home. Plus in the offseason he can afford to keep his home in Southern California. He wanted to live in California and pitch in the National League (so that he could bat on a regular basis), but in the end none of the teams could come up with an offer that was even in the same galaxy as the Yankees offer. There really was only one choice to take then, and that one was the best offer. I really don't blame him because a player of his caliber should command the best salary out there. He really is an exceptional player (and person, as I am told) so he should get rewarded for his efforts. And since there is no salary cap in baseball (which is a topic that I will not get into today, since it is a monster debate) this kind of thing will continue to happen. The teams with the deepest pockets will always get the best players. Thankfully the best individual players doesn't always translate to the best team, and as much as I loved CC, I will be wishing with all of my heart that the New York Yankees once again miss the playoffs (like they did in 2008.) Money can buy you the best players, but unless you have the right players, you're never going anywhere.

So even though he is now one of those dreaded New York Yankees, I’ll never forget what CC Sabathia did for the Brewers. I’m still not going to go out and buy a #52 Sabathia jersey, but I will recognize and thank him for putting the team, this city, and the franchise’s often spoken about 26 year playoff drought on his back and carrying them into right into October. I have no reason to hate him. I will continue to boo Carlos Lee and Francisco Cordero (especially CoCo) because they left to play for inferior teams for the same amount of money. I hate to say it, but CC was just a little too good for us. The only way you can ever afford a megastar player is to lock them up when they are young (like Ryan Braun) or offer them a monster contract (like CC Sabathia). Since we didn't have the money to keep CC, we'll just have the memories of his time here and his contributions to the franchise. During his press conference when he was introduced as a Yankee, he shed a little light on why Milwaukee could not compete with the Yankees for his services. Although his statement hurts, it is nonetheless a true statement. "In Milwaukee, they would have been looking at me to win every single game," Sabathia told reporters in his first public comments since season's end. "Of course, I expect to win, and I know that's going to be here [in New York], too. But I think it would have been even more immense pressure there, because they wouldn't have been able to put the pieces around to actually help me win. I think I can get that here." If we committed $20 million+ per year to CC, we wouldn't have the money to keep Prince Fielder, JJ Hardy or Corey Hart, and it would difficult to sign any free agents at all. That's a lot of money for a team with a payroll of $80-90 million to commit to one player. And if he gets injured, we still pay him that money while he is sitting on the bench. It would've been huge to sign a player like that, but too difficult for the Brewers to pony up that dough for a guy who only plays 1 out of 5 days (and sometimes 3). It would have been franchise suicide for the ownership group led by Mark Attanasio to make that kind of mistake. These guys are business men, and they obviously looked at the short and long term implications of splashing out that kind of money, and they put their best offer out on the table. I commend them for even getting CC Sabathia in the first place, and showing this city that they were going to take the necessary measures to field a competitive team. No one that calls themselves a Brewers fan can be upset that we didn't offer CC more money to stay in Milwaukee. End of story.

So now that CC Sabathia has moved on, we need to thank the big man and move on too. There are still plenty of question marks on the 2009 team, and signing Mike Lamb, Jorge Julio, Casey McGehee, R.J. Swindle and Trot Nixon don't answer any of those questions. They all provide very interesting low-cost options, and some of them (like Lamb and Julio) seem primed for bounce back years. I think the Brewers do need to add another starting pitcher to the rotation, but need to be wary of adding another Jeff Suppan (a #4/5 pitcher commanding a salary of $10+ million per year) because we certainly don't need that. With each passing day, we get closer to Spring Training, so hopefully some of those questions do get answered. If not, 2009 is going to be an interesting year. So keep your heads up Brewers fans, don't set lofty unobtainable goals for the 2009 season, and cheer your asses off. The Crew is going to need your support in 2009 if they are going to go to the playoffs for the 2nd consecutive year. My prediction - we once again dance in October. The Brewers will fight hard and figure out a way to get it done. Until Spring Training or another Brewers acquisition, that might be it for my Brewers talk in 2008. But I'll be back in 2009 with some more of my insight into our favorite team. So until then - keep turnin' up the heat!

- pookon -

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

My Hunger Strike

So it has been 20 days since my Hunger Strike!, and I feel like it has been in vain because nothing has changed since then. I still eat garbage all the time, drink lots of beer, and eat at inappropriate times of the day. And to make it worse, I never sent the $96 check to my Mom so that it could go to charity. I brought one with me when I was at her house 3 Sunday's ago, but because I was drunk when I wrote it out, it wasn't in proper check format. (I had written the numbers 96 in numerical form instead of spelling them out like ninety six and 00/100 on the second line.) I promised to send another check, but since that day, I have not had enough money in my checking account to clear that check. So even though the money will reach the proper charity eventually, I had intended for it to be done in a more timely fashion so that I felt like I had accomplished something. If I were to have done it 20 days ago, both my body and my bank account would have taken a hit. Instead I'm just some useless loser who can't change himself or the world around him. God I wish that I didn't suck so much. For once in my life I took a chance and decided that I was going to make a change for the better, and all that I could do was stick to it for 96 hours. From the moment I ate something and ending the Hunger Strike, everything that I intended to accomplish ended right there with it. But alas, it still can be considered a success if I ever feel like a guilty piece of shit for not following through on my end of the deal and shape up hardcore. Since I keep suppressing my feelings and emotions (most often with the assistance of alcohol), I doubt that even the strongest guilty feelings will be able to creep up into my head and cause havoc. But who knows, maybe I'll see Jesus or something and have a Revelation and change my life. Christmas is coming up; I may just get a visit from the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future. As long as they don't look creepy like in the Muppet Christmas Carol (although that Giant was pretty sweet) I'll be ok with their visit. What's the worst that could happen? At least if I listen to the spirits, then Tiny Tim won't die. That's got to be a good thing, right?

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So when I look back at November 2008 in the only way that I can (through these blog postings and my website) I will see that I had a sudden change of heart and decided to listen to Jiminy Cricket (my conscience) for 4 days. I will see that it was the 1st time in my life that I decided to care about someone other than myself (poor and starving people) and to do something about it. I will then see that after those 4 days, I went back to being the selfish, robust, cold hearted bastard that I always have been. But I guess that at least for those 4 days (out of 366) I was a different person. That's something to be a little bit proud of, right? I don't really know. Screw it man. I am who I am and I guess there is no way to change it. So I'll just sit and bitch about it while all of my friends are out getting married and having kids, and I'll just be sad and alone. It makes me feel like a complete and total loser. But at least I don't live in my Mom's basement. But I live in the 2nd worst place - above a bar with 2 other dudes. They say it's never too late to turn things around, but it is when you've given up on life. I really don't know what else to say here, but this coming Sunday (November 30th) I plan on giving my Mom that check for charity. I also am seriously considering going back to church. Maybe Jesus can help me turn my life around. Cause if he can't, then no one really can. Have you found Jesus yet Gump? I didn't know I was supposed to be looking for him Lieutenant Dan. Well now I know. In fact, I've probably known since 1994 when I first watched that flick. But maybe someday I will go out looking for him. Who knows. But for now I'll continue to sit here and write about how depressing my life is, even though it really doesn't have to be that way. But life is what you make it, and you only get one chance to make it rock. And I'm running out of time to do it before I'm old and it's too late. Maybe one day I'll look back on all this nonsense and laugh over how stupid I was to believe that my life sucked balls. But maybe my life will suck more and I'll look back and realize just how sweet it really was. But there's only one way to find out - and that's to just keep living and see what tomorrow brings. So I'll do that. And maybe tomorrow I'll have something positive to say. See you at ze track.

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- pookon -

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http://www.pookon.com/

email : pookondotcom@gmail.com

Hunger Strike : Hour 96 (4 Days)

Hour 96 was as long as I could make it without eating, although in retrospect I probably could have gone longer. When I got home from beer pong around 1:30 in the morning, I made myself a nice big salad complete with all the fixings. It really didn't taste that good, but I ate it anyway because I was drunk. See, I decided to drink during the games, and although the beer contained calories and was possibly a violation of the rules of a hunger strike, it may have ended there. But I defined this as a not eating hunger strike, and although I abstained from consuming any calories prior to Friday night, I decided that I was going to drink beer if I was going to play beer pong. After all, there was no reason to keep this thing going any longer because I didn't have a reason to keep it going. So a little after 1:30 am on Friday night, I ended my 4 day Hunger Strike. And when I woke up in the morning, I promptly threw up the salad that I ate the night before. I don't know if it was my stomach reacting to not eating in 4 days or the amount of beer I consumed on an empty stomach. All that I do know is that my Hunger Strike came to a very violent end. I should not have been drinking if I hadn't been eating, and I certainly should have picked something better to eat, like a sandwich or some soup. Something that wasn't as rich in flavor or multitude of different things (lettuce, mixed veggies, cheese, croutons, dressing) in order to let my stomach catch back up to speed. But I didn't, and I dearly paid for the price on Saturday morning, believe me.

But now that the Hunger Strike is over, I can certainly say that I am lucky and fortunate to have the choice of whether or not to eat. I would hate to feel like I did over the past 4 days and for it to not have been my choice. The stupid and idiotic thing that I did is a reality for a lot of people in this world, and hopefully my $96 donation will make a better day for one or a few of them, even if it just for one day. $100 is a lot of money for me, as it represents around 1/12 of my monthly income. With rent and all of the miscellaneous bills that I have to pay, it's difficult for me to give that money away. But when I think about all of the security that I do have compared to others less fortunate, I shouldn't be worrying about crap like that. Even when I do give away this $100, I will still have a roof over my head, a job, transportation, food, heat and electricity, and family and friends that love me. When Joey Kanz heard of my Hunger Strike, he initially wondered why I was doing it. I told him what I told you guys - no reason, just kind of felt like doing it. But when I told him that I pledged $1 to charity for every hour I made it without food, he decided to strike along with me. I am happy to report that he went 72 hours without food, and he also plans to donate some money to charity. So I guess I did make a difference after all. I finally did something good that got noticed by someone else, and they emulated my good deed. I believe that my Hunger Strike now did have a purpose, and that was to make a change, even though it appears to be minor. But this minor change can have big effects, much like when you drop a pebble into a pond and the water rings grow bigger as they circle outward. Now I'm not going to lie, in the 24 hours since my Hunger Strike officially ended, I did eat a little more than I normally would have in a normal day. I guess I was just excited to be eating again and slipped back into my overeating ways. But that shit can not and will not continue, or else this whole strike thing will have been in vain. It was meant as a way to start some changes in my life, and if no changes are made, then I really did strike for no reason. Since I don't want to be a jackass and be laughed at for my meaningless plight, I must stick to my guns and try and make a change. Michael Jackson has done a lot of things that people and society shun, but he did make some pretty kickass songs. I especially like this one because it has a strong message, "I'm starting with the man in the mirror. I'm asking him to change his ways. And no message could have been any clearer. If you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make the change." The guy has led a pretty messed up life, but at least he moonwalked and delivered some good messages to millions every now and then. That's more than I can say about my life. I can't compare myself to the King of Pop, and I shouldn't. Every person is unique, and therefor not comparable to others. So I needed to do my own thing and go on this strike. I guess we'll see where it goes from here.

So I gave up eating for 4 days and raised $96 for charity in the process. Now that sounds like a good time. I don't know if I'd ever purposefully do it again, but maybe someday I'll give it a go just to try and beat my own personal record. Although my body was starting to feel a little weak, I did feel like it had been cleansed of all the toxins and chemicals. That tends to happen when you don't eat and drink nothing but water; you flush all that useless crap out. I was starting to show signs of wear, and my work performance was slipping, but if I had to go back to the beginning of the week, I certainly would do it all over again. It was one of those life experiences that you only get to be a part of when you do something different. I always say that you only feel alive when you step outside of the ordinary and experience change, which is why I love getting tattoos. You sit there for an hour or more while someone is inflicting pain on you. It's a numbing sensation that cannot be replicated. Not eating for 4 days also made me feel some kind of pain, and it also seemed unusal. I felt more alive this week than I have recently, which was really cool. But I'm back to eating, and hopefully I will start eating better and healthier. I'll let this week be a lesson to me, and use some of my experiences in my future travels. But oh what a wicked week it was. Until next time my friends - later dudes.

- pookon -

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Hunger Strike : Hour 84

Not much has changed in the past 12 hours, although a lot will certainly change within the next 12 hours. I'll explain in a bit. I still don't feel hungry at all, although I do have momentary periods of time where I get hungry because something smells great (like a cup of coffee that someone next to me was drinking) or I see someone eating something (like a chocolate bar). When I'm on my own, I do alright, although last night after dinner I was really tempted to end the strike. I even looked in my cupboards to see what I had available to munch on. There wasn't much in there, and what little was left didn't really look appetizing. I'm just not in the mood for maruchan ramen noodles or instant "just add water!" pancakes. To tell you the truth, I really do feel like eating anything in the near future. Why eat when you aren't hungry? But I might have to start eating soon because this hunger strike is starting to cost me a lot of money. It's already up to $84 and counting by the hour. There I am - being a cheap bastard and only caring about myself. Don't I know that this money is gonna go to a good cause? Some family out there is going to have a pretty sweet Thanksgiving dinner because of me. Or even multiple families. I've never done anything like this before, so I never really knew how rewarding it is to make sacrifices for others. Even though my stomach is empty, my heart is full of warm happy feelings.

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Which leads into the next part. I am going to have to end this tonight when I go play beer pong. I can't drink if I don't have any food in my stomach, and I don't really want to play with water in a live game because it is a violation of the terms of the game. Now I practice with water all of the time at home, but I have never done it in a league sanctioned event. True, I have used it at the World Series of Beer Pong (in the back 4 cups only) and at bars where they don't allow drinking games (where we play with water and have a beer on the side to get around the city ordinance). I don't think that I can do it in league. But why do I care that I am breaking this strike that has been ongoing for no particular reason? I don't know why I do care so much about it. It's like I'm striking for a reason. True, I am donating some money in the end, but that's only because I felt like I needed a reason. I guess I don't want to end it because I already feel healthier. I know that it is not possible, but I feel like I already have lost a few pounds. I still look the same, because it's going to take me a lot of time and effort to look like a Greek God again, but I feel better. I am worried that I am going to get sick soon, because starving yourself is not a great way to get healthier. In fact, studies have probably shown that it is less healthy to starve the weight off than to work it off by dieting and exercise. I'm no doctor (although I went to college for 7 years), but that makes a whole lot of sense to me. If you're gonna do something, do it right.

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So I guess I will let you know when this story comes to an end, but it will be ok because it will have a happy ending. There's no point in going 84 hours + without food. So I'm going to stop, eating a shitload of nachos, then probably throw up because my stomach won't be ready for that rush of awesomeness. So I guess instead I will take it slow by eating some soup and crackers and drinking 7 up, much like I did whenever I had a stomach virus when I was little. For some reason, when you can't hold any food down, 7up and saltine crackers figure out a way to stay down there. It's probably another one of those things that scientists and doctors have tested and proven, which is why my Mom used to feed me that stuff when I was sick. And so at least it goes on for a few more hours, because I can't eat anything until I get back home. I thought that I was Starting the Revolution by going on this Hunger Strike, and it looks like I have made a little bit of a difference. Time will tell on that one, and I will see you all in a few hours and let you know about my decision. Later dudes.

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- pookon -

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email : pookondotcom@gmail.com