Off Campus

So long and thanks for all the fish

2008-07-04T08:55:00.000-04:00

On this, the nations birthday, we recognize other birthdays and milestones, particularly the birth of this blog - a joint venture, spin-off and survivor of the comic that began nearly 17 years ago, and had six-month revival in print just before "blogging" entered the current vernacular.

Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness has brought far too much of our attentions toward fixing up the homestead(s), fighting the good fight against the aforementioned "pile", selling blood, and the lucrative world of producing a Horror-Host show (across New England).

Yes overscheduling can lead to productivity, it can also lead to apathy and neglectfulness on other fronts. (Which could also be a general sense of dis-ease from being a few pints low - gotta pre-buy our winter heating oil somehow.)

If brevity is the soul of wit, then the rambling-ness here today demonstrates the witlessness fatal to what began as a place for Mark and I to make each other (and hopefully, a few of you) laugh. So here we say goodby to an old friend and comedy outlet. We'll go back to making ourselves laugh over Belgian Fries and Panini at one of our favorite haunts, have time to fit in a game or two of Quiddler, and actually get out to a movie or two.

If you know me, find me on Facebook (challenge me to a game of scrabble (Scrabulous). If you don't, read through the backlog, and mourn the life and loss of this blog, as with everything we seem to acknowledge life and (semi) brilliance only when something or someone is gone. Or, in the timeless words of 80's hair-band Cinderella, You don't know what you've got til it's gone.

Time for a little more First Life people!

We're Moving

2007-09-27T20:14:00.000-04:00

and we're taking the blog with us!

In the words of a wise and wiley new-media director, or perhaps it was a socially outcast, self-loathing degenerate with WAY too much time on his hands, “If your not constantly redesigning your web presence you're dead.”

We're not dead, Not resting, not even pining for the fjords. We're moving and bringing back the classics from the early days of our foray into Web 2.0!

Gotta foster the illusion of new content, while we lose ourselves in the new Fall TV Schedule, before the cancel all the good new shows! (and have little time to blog about it)

Lumberjocks TV

2007-08-08T15:38:00.000-04:00

After 12 long years outside of film and tv production, I've started dabbling again... I just put the final polish on my second video upload at Lumberjocks.com
(when I'm not working wood... I'm working with it digitally!

So for your dining and dancing pleasure - turning a pen, in under 10 seconds!

Enjoy!

No one expects the Vegan Death Squad!

2007-07-13T20:35:00.001-04:00

(My phone didn't seem to quite grab all the pixels of) some graffiti found around town that makes me wonder if I'm a potential victim or not... should I keep prying eyes away from my grocery cart? Should I be gardening with "protection"

Ok fearsome Vegan Death Squad - are you a horde of (suburban) cattle ranchers roaming the city, striking fear into those of us not eating our fair share of baby cows and piggies?

or

are you a crunchier bunch - though just as fearsome - striking out with a carrot and a stick against anyone eating, or exploiting anything with a face on it?

Ok so you've tagged the neighborhood, can you post your manifesto too? The name, it's funny, but a little vague.

Loan Sharking at the ATM

2007-06-15T18:48:00.001-04:00

24 hour deposit available... still charging an arm and a leg.

Under Destruction

2007-04-02T21:03:00.000-04:00

Destruction, or perhaps a little bit of moving the furniture around. This blog has sort of outgrown it's original scope and needs a little spring cleaning, lest it remains relegated to the background of my blogging attentions.

Is a picture worth a thousand words? I hope so.... going to turn this into a bit of a cellphone photoblog. Get back to the funny look at the world around us, by captureing quick glimpses of things that make me laugh, without having to get all wordy like.

Brevity is the soul of wit, eh?

Got Wood?

2007-02-11T22:40:00.000-05:00

I do.

That's why most of my online time, blogging and reading, has been done here and over here at Lumberjocks.

and when I get hungry or inspired in the kitchen, here.

Is Off Campus dead? Heck no, (refer to previous post) It's just pining for the fjords, what with all my wood and all. And my partner in crime here is spending all his free time in (and some of his pricey time) working on and editing a weekly horror tv show.

Gotta run, I've got sawdust to make!

obligation blogging....

2006-12-28T23:50:00.000-05:00

is not much fun.

There are two types of bloggers.

#1. Those who post often. So often, that they have to apologize to their families because they never see them (But at least their family has access to up to the minute information on everything, if they choose to avoid any quality face time.)

#2. Those who post less than regularly, and need to apologize for not posting sooner everytime they finally get around to it.

This blog is obviously the result of the latter.

Now that the time has come for New Years resolutions, let me join the masses making their promises to be better in the new year. Others may stick to their promises and some may not. Let me assure you, dear reader, that I will not break my resolutions. (None pertaining to blogging anyhow).

Yes let me state clearly, loudly and proudly, that I will continue to post just as frequently as I manage to.
Whether weekly, or weakly... (Hey you try to keep up a three blog habit (Two out of three ain't bad), chase after a four year old (yours, or the neighbors), hold down a couple jobs, all while trying to fit in a meal or two and donating as much blood as possible.)

Ok, so for the record, I'll admit there are three types of bloggers, the third being those who manage to post regularly, (without overdoing it). But as these people are clearly freaks, it's best not to talk about them.

Perfect for any occasion!

2006-12-17T23:07:00.000-05:00

I saw a sign yesterday outside a DJ’s home/place of business, emphasizing he was available / had music for EVERY occasion.

That’s right! He’s available for your Wedding, Bar Mitzvah, 25th anniversary and colonoscopy.

Why not also put out a line of greeting cards for any occasion – and I mean every occasion.

Can’t you just see the signs at Hallmark store?

Happy - just fill in the blank - Birthday, Christmas, First Date, First Kiss, First Million, Awkward first bi-curious experience…. “Ummm, thanks, you…. I shouldn’t have.”

Christmas cookies

2006-12-10T00:05:00.000-05:00

So we've been bad bloggers of late. Formerly weekly, now weakly.... well, there's just too much in the way of holiday prep, and commitment avoidance filling up our days. I"m sure you know the feeling.

I've also spend a great deal of time bouncing between the workshop and the kitchen.

and based on the following recipe my grandfather passed along (he thinks this would pair well with my Christmas Punch recipe), you can see I'm probably spending a little too much time in the kitchen!

Christmas Cookie Recipe

1 cup of water
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup of sugar
1 tsp salt
1 cup of brown sugar
3 tblsp lemon juice
4 large eggs
1 cup chopped nuts
2 cups of dried fruit
1 bottle Crown Royal

- Sample the Crown Royal to check quality.
- Take a large bowl, check the Crown Royal again, to be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink.
- Turn on the electric mixer...Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.
- Add one teaspoon of sugar...Beat again.
- At this point it's best to make sure the Crown Royal is still OK, try another cup.. just in case.
- Turn off the mixer thingy.
- Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.
- Pick the gonedog fruit off thr floor...
- Mix on the turner.
- If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers just pry it loose with a dewscriver.
- Sample Crown Royal and check for tonsisticity.
- Next, sift two cups of salt, or something.... who giveshz a sheet.
- Check the Crown Royal.
- Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
- Add one table.
- Add a spoon of ar, or somefink.... whatever you can find.
- Greash the oven.
- Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.
- Don't forget to beat the turner.
- Finally, throw the bowl through the window.
- Finish the Crown Royal.
- Put the stove in the dishwasher.
- Dun

Cherry Mistmas

Rock and Roll Over

2006-11-07T23:42:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling old. Not because I have a birthday coming up (the next "big" number is a long way off), but because of the radio.

I grew up on the local Rock station. Current hard rock and metal mixed with classic rock. I'm of the school that "Classic Rock" has a particular flavor, not a certain definition. More than just two guitars, a bass and drum ensemble, but not easily describable without throwing out some band names, The Eagles, CCR, Clapton, (early) Aerosmith, J Geils, The Steve Miller Band... you get the idea (Google if you don't - now I really feel old).

Lately the local Classic Rock Station seems to play anything that hit it's 10 year birthday. I first caught on to this when they started playing Van Halen back in the mid 90's. Ok - early Van Halen, These were before my time (well, before my cognative time), so no big deal. But when I recognized songs from their 1984 album, I really was taked aback. How can music that premiered on MTV be considered classic rock, now or ever?

The Rock and Roll Hall of fame has a 25 year waiting period before an artist/album may be eligible for entry, so why is a song/artist able to be classic, 15 years before it's deemed worthy of their consideration?

Anyhow, I suppressed my memory of Jump (and the sound of Eddie's guitar solo), on the classic rock station, until they began playing some songs by "Van Hagar". Ok, this is going too far. Songs from my high-school days, when I was, (ok not was, but felt) barely out of college cannot be "classic rock".

As the playlist became more and more current, (for my tastes) I warmed to the idea of a 10-year statute of limitations on what could or couldn't become classic rock. This was fine, as I could still hear the "real" classics (from my parents time) intermingled with the newer ones from mine. Not a bad playlist if you ask me. A wider range of Aerosmith, CCR, CSN, Queen, The Eagles, The Cars, Whitesnake. Huh? wait a second. Hair bands (Metal/Rock) from the 80's/90's qualify now too? ... oops, I've moved back to the certain sound versus age definition again. Is anything 10 years old classic? Why, that still seems so young.

While scanning through stations, I heard Boston play back to back with Flashdance on the radio tonight, both from about the same time, but the former still seems timeless, while the latter definately screams 80's. Some bands/songs still have a timeless sound and are hard pressed to pinpoint to a certain year/decade/sound, and thereby immune to eternity as classic rock or any other quantifiable thing. I think Boston's catalog fits the bill, a number of Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, Springsteen, Queensryche and more - any thoughts/comments?

What a wierd time it will be when If I had a $1,000,000 and anything by an "American Idol" is deemed a classic anthem of the 90's or Aught-whatevers, by some future generation of DJ. You think I'm kidding?

One thought that amuses me, and certainly feasible today, which may help to argue the "sound over age definition of what truly is and can be deemed classic rock. Imagine a playlist as follows: Layla by Eric Clapton, Longview by Green Day, House of Pains Jump Around, Crazy Train by Ozzy, Higher Ground by either Stevie Wonder or The Red Hot Chili Peppers, then a little Metallica, Jane's Addiction, Extreme, The Clash, Tool and finally Faith No More before the commercial break. Not classic rock by my definition, but seemilgly so by another... and if you have to google those bands, I give up. I really am old.

Thinking about my parents generation - the Baby Boomers - they probably went through the same deal when the song they grew up with were classified as "oldies". I've been listening to a mostly "oldies" station (at work with my dad) this past week, partially because he likes it, and mostly because we're out in the boonies and have no other option. Most of what I've heard isn't oldies to me. Chicago, Stevie Wonder, The Animals, The Zombies, Fleetwood Mac, Barry White...

How about this, some new rules for classification, that won't change with time (hopefully). Anything that was once deemed Rock and Roll should really be classic rock - Chuck Berry, Bill Haley and the Comets, anything from the British Invasion. Hell the Doors celebrated their 40th anniversary this week, and they are still getting a lot of radio time. Also, any band that is still recording, regardless of their age, cannot be deemed classic rock, at least not until they break up, burn out or fade away. Hence the Rolling Stones cannot be classic rock, though the Beatles can be. Eric Clapton - no. But any band he was previously in, Derek and the Dominoes, Cream, sure. Anything older than that can be labeled oldies, or anything post WWII through Vietnam era without the standard guitar/bass/drum combo. Sonny and Cher, Diana Ross, nothing you could play air guitar too.

I'm sure there is a real definition out there somewhere and I'm wasting my time not checking... but for my taste most DJ's aren't either... so something has to be said. Otherwise I'd have to sadly admit that my entire CD collection is nothing but classic rock, modern or otherwise. AC/DC, The Black Crowes, Genesis, Talking Heads, Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, Extreme, The Who, Joe Satriani, The Wallflowers, Counting Crows, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Nirvana - nothing that should be, but is able to be deemed classic rock by the 10 year old standard. Thankfully I have my iPod to keep me young and up to date. Dave Matthews Band, Buffalo Tom, U2, Tom Cochrane, Bare Naked Ladies, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Weezer... Oh no! Thats all old too!

Well, I'm off to download some Jet, The New Cars, and.. (any suggestions?) so I can still have a shot at burning out, before I fade away.

Just when you thought you've fried everything

2006-10-12T22:00:00.000-04:00

Neccessity is the mother of invention, But I guess she had the day off.

You've had fried twinkies, fried pb&j, fried mac & cheese, fried green beans, chicken fried chicken, (how passe). How are you going to wash down all that artery clogging goodness?.... Have a Fried Coke (yes, as in cola) and a smile.

Looking for something more upscale? A little stronger? Try a fried cosmopolitan. Skip the glass and enjoy the lovely tang of lime, cranberry, vodka and triple sec with a crispy crunchy greasy coating. Hmm.... can I get that cosmo beer-battered?

Sign of the times

2006-09-10T17:51:00.000-04:00

Click on the photo to customize your own sign!

Rockin into the Fall lineup

2006-09-05T22:42:00.000-04:00

While there have been a couple gems on the TV horizon this summer (Treasure Hunters, Rockstar and ... oh, I guess that's about it), the fall lineup can't come fast enough.

In the wake of the lackluster Video Music Awards, there's an fashion/fundraiser/concert on Friday. Elton John is combining the best in rock with the best in fashion - Fashion Rocks! Call me a reformed (or somewhat older) late 80s Rock/Metal head... but, some of the big names they're touting don't scream ROCK to me. (Or whisper it for that matter). Only one of the bands on the list so far had a song covered on Rockstar - if that serves as a current barometer - and I'll tell you it wasn't Beyonce, Faith Hill, the Pussycat Dolls or the Scissor Sisters).

Oh! Poor summer programming. Once the home of twice, or thrice viewed reruns. Cheers, Friends, Cosby, Seinfeld.... Now the home of former celebrities trying to dance, sing, or eat their way back into the spotlight. (Or out of a box filled with bugs). The summer TV season started with a bang - on the season finale of Lost - and almost nothing has happened since...

We still have to wait until October to find out what happened on the island. Until then, I've got my money on Heroes, Smith, Studio 60, and The Class. Otherwise, I may just have to pull the plug.

At least there's always You Tube!

Too Goo To Be Troo?

2006-08-07T22:12:00.000-04:00

Though we have heavy spam filters on our e-mail account here at OFF CAMPUS, one or two occasionally slip through. They're usually easily identifiable, with subject headers filled with numbers-for-letters and suggestive uses of the word "load" and "univeristy". Once in a while, though, we're stumped. Read for yourself the following heartfelt letter and let us know if you think we should respond. It looks like a good deal to us.

OC

------------------

Subject: IMPOTENT OPPORTUNITY!

Dear Sir,

Peas swallow me to induce myself. My fame is Mrs. Owaltugo Manbuti, and I lie in Fleasollia, just southeast of the North African weigh station #614. Forgive my English is not strong, but my passion for this is greatly just so that I may contact a relatively stranger as you are.

I am writhing to you this day to apall to you for you kind help in a matter of grating impotence. My husbandry, Mr. Dr. Chief Owaltugo Manbuti, DDS, has been longfully impersoned by government offices, keeping from me and our familial several billions of dollars in a secured offstore band amount and threating the clothing of our own horse farm. We can't not have asses to these funds without the inlovement of a persons or persons from outside our arena, due to provincial laws and matters that involve high quart fleas and international charley horse.

I am making to your this possibly of a both way helping to free these funs to be for my family to maintain our horse restaurant and continue to flight for my husband's cheese. I for you will give a transfer of the runs contained in the amount of $500,000.00 of dollars in sexchange for making a dank depot that would serve as action to make the frozen foods available to us in a legal manner to which the goverment official will be of positive firmament. Logs of understanding, rumbler!

If you have are interesting in asses to a protein of these funs, response to me at this address no later than three days ago: prisoner1193878769876245@nigerianprison.net. This is my personable account that I use from our horse laundry and is safely pigmented.

Please do not tell publicly about this preposition, as we have encrusted to you this specious pop or tuna tree to mutual benefit and joy of the freeing of possesives to righfully be in and of with the proper. Others have excesses interesting in this inclusive offer, so please make sure to response soon, unless you have already been made to know of the sending. Granite beliefs will changemaker.

My husband and I and our son Kip are already thanking of you for your thyme and reasonment in this matter. It is with great distress that we ask of your help, uless we should lose the posting of our horse cannery and being forced to quail, move on forward to a less estate-making decision to expell into the sea several monies not yet understood in Arthur.

Thank you in vans for ass stance,

Mrs. Owaltugo Manbuti, Deceased

Home Sweet Home

2006-08-06T22:52:00.000-04:00

Ok kids... now THIS is a starter home.

Last Comics Standing

2006-08-02T22:29:00.000-04:00

I was miffed early on in the season when some made it through, and others that I thought were a shoo-in were left home (and deprive the rest of us of real funny). However I was pleased this week, when my choices for the weakest remaining we're cast off. Leaving us with the final three - basically a tie in my book. (unless they bring John Heffron back as restitution for cutting the voting short during the "season 1 vs. season 2" finale.) I'm happy with whoever wins.

in recent weeks I called (or rather hoped) for one of the guys to win this show. Before you get all off calling me sexist, one of the girls (I mean women) is likely to win Rockstar - the only other reality fodder worth your time this summer.

(I still can't believe they didn't cancel the rest of the season before the end of the first episode of "Big Brother 1"... let alone bring it back year after year after year.... at least the huge holes in the programming schedule allow us plenty of time to catch up on our summer reading lists - (blogs, not books, that is).

...and now, back to your regularly scheduled triple-digit summer night.

Even better than the real thing

2006-07-28T08:29:00.000-04:00

Are you tired, hot and hankering for a Coke, but you can't get to the store???

Thirst no more my friend... a few simple ingredients, and a little time on your hands, will get you a fridge full of caffinated goodness. (54 liters - thats 228 glasses worth, just enough to get you through til monday... with or without the rum... you may just have to pick up a larger fridge.)

Many thanks to two bar managers at The Cube an "alternative" cinema in the UK.

passport to adventure

2006-07-14T08:50:00.000-04:00

I went down to the post office yesterday to get my passport renewed. My old one expired about 3 years ago. I managed to dig out my birth certificate in case I needed to re-prove that I was born. (An expired passport isn't proper ID anymore, right?)

Thankfully everything went smoothly, I filled out the renewal form, Name, Address, height (no weight thankfully), eyes, emergency contacts, and all that jazz. There was also a spot for travel plans... the passport is good for 10 years, and I have no idea about what I'll be doing in the coming years, so hopefully not filling in every place I'm likely to visit won't bar me from future entry.

Last night, I realized I forgot to fill out one of the spots, and I'm afraid they'll send the form back (I won't get my new passport in time for my cruise this fall). After height, before eyes, there was a spot for hair. I left that blank. If they question, I'll refer them to the enclosed photographs. That should take care of it.

Not too worried, but you never know.

Rockstar...

2006-07-05T23:14:00.000-04:00

Oh Rockstar, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways;

1. You're only a tiny bit like American Idol, but you skip past all the crappy auditions and BS and get right to the really good performers.

2. You stick with a musical genre, that brings me back to my youth (ok... umm... formative years) and still sounds just as good.

3. You reach as broad an audience, without relying on a nasty Brit to keep the ratings up, and viewers tuned in.

4. You show that there is intelligence and talent behind the makeup and tattoos.

5. Just as with Jordis starting the show last season, Storm (yes her given name) came on stage first and gave a "Gentlemen we could already have a winner" performance.

6. None of the "tone deaf, in denial, I really wanna be on TV, can't carry a tune in a bucket, but don't you dare say so because I'm fabulous" BS from AI (did I already say that?).

7. We were all expecting Van Halen to step up after INXS, but you pulled a fast one,.. a supergroup for the 00's? Time will tell, but I'm more hopeful now than I was yesterday.

8. I get to dig out all my "vintage" 80s Hard Rock and Metal, and be cool again (if only for the summer) - all technically classics - now being rediscovered by (sniff) kids who were born when Guns N' Roses upcoming album was first announced (coming soon, or so the band, I mean Axl, still says).

9. No, I'm not going to mention how hot any of the performers, or co-hosts are.

10. I think the women have as good, if not a better chance of winning this season.

Happy Independence Day

2006-07-04T08:36:00.000-04:00

click to play.

(stolen) photo courtesy of Beau, wine blogger extraordinaire at Basic Juice

USB teddy

2006-06-21T20:07:00.000-04:00

USB teddy bear holds data, scares children

Dig the re-beheadable I love you bear!.. Creepy.

- Scott

I think you just invented a new word!

Rehead (ri-hed') verb - The act of removing and then re-attaching a head to a body.
As punishment for not cleaning its dungeon, Frankenstein had his monster reheaded.

- Mark

proof of life, virtually

2006-06-16T17:04:00.000-04:00

When last we left my struggle with and against The Pile it was virtually a tower of tapes and discs, slighly dusty from age, and gathering mass.

It appears to have reached enough critical mass for a virtual existence.

This week it sent and received e-mail, made purchases (expensive ones) on e-bay, and has developed a very respectable grasp of English language (for an ESL speaker or seemingly inert pile of plastic).

The evidence:

#1.
From: aw-confirm@ebay.com
Subject: eBay-PayPal payment confirmation
Date: June 13, 2006 3:43:17 PM EDT
To: thepile

Dear valued member,
This email confirms that you have sent an eBay-PayPal payment of $397.85 USD to another comunity member for an eBay item.

Payment Details
-----------------------------------
Transaction ID: 2LC956793J776EIEIO
Amount: $397.85 USD
Paid to: thephisherking@yahoo.corn
eBay-PayPal Email Receipt ID: PP118

Item Information
------------------------------------
Subject: "Sony PSP Ultimate Value Pack"
Purchased for: $397.85 USD
Seller's User ID: scratchandgnaw2
------------------------------------
Seller's Name: thephisherking
Seller's Address (Not yet confirmed)

You have initiated this payment using your credit card or bank account linked to your eBay-PayPal membership.

Thank you for using eBay.com & PayPal.com!
eBay Inc. & The PayPal Team

#2.
From: mn offcampus
To: thepile
Date: Tue Jun 13, 2006 10:03:15 PM EDT
Subject: RE: eBay-PayPal payment confirmation

Curse that pile! It's breaking me from the space and the time and the money! The gall of it all with the pile being so of self-wellness! Confusion of anger! Spirits!

MN

#3.
From: thepile
To: offcampus
Date: Thu Jun 15, 2006 09:08:12 AM EDT
Subject:

Don't those teachers very often love jogging?.
Do you hate shaving badly?.
Mr. Hanson isn't practicing working..
I didn't love dancing for two hours..
Did those students miss eating last winter?.
1.
They aren't enjoying running..
Have the managers already loved shouting?.
John was enjoying sleeping near the tree..
Were those pilots practicing praying?.
Cathy hasn't practiced reading yet..
I don't miss jumping for three or four weeks..
I didn't hate dancing last night at eleven..
You know, for the last few months, John's been traveling around the country talking about his positive, optimistic vision for America, talking about his plan to move this country in the right direction..

Lawrence had already liked dancing..
That dentist is not enjoying writing near my home..

Best of luck to the rest of civilization, and your demons. We're moving to a secure location, offshore (and off the grid), praying for deliverace.

Re: Code and the good book

2006-06-07T22:53:00.000-04:00

So the DaVinci Code, first the book, and now the movie, and coming soon: the breakfast cereal (but not on Sunday Please!!!) has got all these churchy folk up in arms about what really happened in the bible, and how the movie doesn't portray the good book in such a good way.

Being good and proper Americans, we at the OC have read the book (Mr Brown's, not the King James(es) but I'm sure we have one around here somewhere), seen the movie, and are in the process of re-exploring the book, via the wonder of the textbook like Illustrated version in an effort to really grasp the nature of what has caused all this hoo-hah and hub-bub.

Just to show how misperceptions and unintentional alterations have come about these past 2000 years though the childhood telephone like game of retranslation on down through the millennia - which is inevitable for any book first written in anything other than English. To reverse engineer the process, we started at the beginning with the Book of Genesis (which apparently was written long before Phil Collins took over for Peter Gabriel as lead singer) translated it back into French (through the miracles of the Babel Fish (and the snappy berets we're wearing), and then into German, Italian, Espanol, Finnish (but we didn't stop there), Spanish, and finally back into English just to see what we came up with, and show how some of the mistranslations could be accidentally misconstrued.

What began as:
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
Now the earth was without shape and empty, and darkness was over the surface of the watery deep, but the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the water.
God said, “Let there be light.” And there was light!
God saw that the light was good, so God separated the light from the darkness.
God called the light “day” and the darkness “night.” There was evening, and there was morning, marking the first day.

Turned into:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was a dark and stormy night, with the lights out it's less dangerous, here we are now entertain us. I feel stupid and contagious, here we are now entertain us. A mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido. Yea!

- and there you have it.

The Hunt For The Perfect Orange

2006-05-12T20:41:00.000-04:00

As spring springs and fall falls, we at Off Campus would like to present another in our ongoing series of consumer awareness and education missives, in an effort to make YOU the reader (singular...we hope to have more some day) a savvier shopper, armed with the wisdom that only we can muster, gathered from various sources that we just don't care to name at this time.

Orange-buying Tips:
When selecting the perfect orange, the following criteria should be met and/or exceeded:

Criteria #1: The orange should be round.

Although square oranges have been experimented with in a controlled lab setting (Knif Labs, 1975), they thus far have yet to hit the market. One doesn't know if the public would accept a four-sided variation on a long-standing spherical favorite, though they certainly would stack well and be less inclinded to roll off your desk, down the hall, onto an escalator, out the revolving door, and into a cab headed for Detroit. Square oranges would also pose a greater risk of eye injury, though their use as a temporary and fragrant paper weight might outweigh the eye-patch conundrum.

One should always verify an orange's sphericicity by holding both arms rigid in front of oneself at a 45-degree angle toward the floor, and having a grocer's assistant place it under one's chin. Once in place, the chin should be raised so that the orange travels freely down the citrus slope, into the waiting palms below. If the orange travels freely and with great speed, it is indeed spherical and Criteria # 1 has been met. If the orange veers off its path, it is clearly defective and should be sold at a greatly discounted rate. If the orange is crushed under the weight of one's chin before it is released, one is in need of some wet-wipes.

Criteria #2: The orange should be orange.

Is an orange that is not orange an orange? Is an orange named after the color, or the color named after the orange? Philosophers have asked themselves questions like this for centuries, but rarely shared them with the public. This criteria is more about the principal of the thing than any rigid dietary requirement. A blue orange is just not right. A green orange is not done yet, and a red orange is angry at you. A black or brown orange is something to be feared and not smelled.

Criteria #3: Its external texture should feel like a piece of sports equipment.

A good orange should have a tough, pocky exterior skin, much like Edward James Olmos. Smooth or squishy oranges are likely the result of tampering with forces Man is not meant to tamper with, and should be given dirty looks and mocked forcefully, like Pepsi Clear and reality shows. A proper orange should do damage when thrown, and cause pain and dizziness if dropped on one's foot, whether by accient or out of curiousity. One should be able to slap the orange around a bit, getting out the agressions of the day, and maintain is shape and color until consumed. If the orange bruises or blushes after such treatment, it is not worthy and shold be lobbed out of a moving car into a cemetery. In a pinch, and orange should be able to be used in a game of softball, but only for bunting.

Criteria #4 : Its internal texture should look like the picture on a Minute Maid carton.

If one cuts an orange in half and sees the image of a koala bear, something is amiss, and the orange in question should be cleaned and burned. Likewise, any visible text ("Kill", "Dingle", "Quiet Riot RULES!") should be a clear sign that the orange in question is of questionable nutritional value, and should be sold to the nearest sideshow.

Criteria #5: An orange should make no audible sound when left alone.

If an orange emits a low-decibel hum or murmuring sound, it is not recommended that it be cut open or eaten. The orange in question may actually be an incendiary device, or severly mutated hedgehog. Back away slowly and seek shelter.

We at Off Campus, in association with no accredited federal organization (we tried, but they kept saying something about a lack of "scientific evidence"), hope that these simple rules and guidelines will help to make you a more wizened citrus shopper, filled with vitamin C (C for "smarts") and a firm sense of ennui.

top ten quotes of the week

2006-04-29T23:18:00.000-04:00

- Slacker vacation edition

Ok, not only did I stop at five, I also killed 3 blogs with one stone with this'n! You could consider this is a top ten list in progress... (but it's not) bear with me - I've been down in the basement workshop all day trying to finish my fathers birthday present (and get that place cleaned up once and for all - proud to say I'm almost done!!! (on both counts), not exactly how one starts a vacation, so there. And with no further ado - some bits about food that made me chuckle this week:

#1 - Kate over at The Accidental Hedonist: When reading the headline Chinese Scientists Clone Mad Cow-Resistant Calf, the first thought that came to my mind was "Yeah, but how does it taste?"

#2 - Jenniferschmoo over at The Vegan Lunch Box: Bac-Os (yes, indeed, they are vegan!)

#3 - Fran Spielman, City Hall Reporter for the The Chicago Sun-Times: Forget about skyrocketing gas prices, soaring property tax assessments and corruption that has federal investigators crawling all over City Hall. Chicago aldermen have a more pressing concern: foie gras.

#4 - Over at The Food Whore: ...there were the infamous "soft pie" hunts, which basically means we would run through the cow pastures - in our bare feet - stepping on cow pies until someone found a fresh one. The first person to call "Soft Pie", would win a candy bar...

#5 - Barbara Fisher over at Tigers & Strawberries: The most important thing he has learned, apparently, is that it is okay to say “fart” on the ABC News.

Just Got SPAMmed

2006-04-20T21:30:00.000-04:00

You've seen the movie, you've tried the ice cream... now go get SPAMmed

Just saw SPAMALOT in Boston, and it was absolutely amazing. Totally a Python Broadway show, not just a re-tread of the film on stage, but a whole different ball of silliness. Songs and story by Eric Idle, so it's "authentic", and not just someone trying to ape the Python style. I can't remember the last time I laughed that long and hard at anything. I hope this plays here and there for years, because everyone I know really needs to experience it.

Shouting it from the treetops,

Easter '06

2006-04-12T19:55:00.000-04:00

In the spirit of Easter, and all things oval and brightly-colored that may or may not be filled with chocolate, marshmallow, or caramel, we here at Off Campus want to take a moment to answer a letter sent in to us by little Zuzi Tintorerra, age 7. We've been holding off replying to this letter until now, so hopefully Zuzi hasn't already found an answer to her query via a palm reading or on the playground (where we get our best inside information). We hope that by answering this question for Zuzi, others may benefit from the knowlege and experience that we have attained collectively in over half a century of trying to avoid major surgery.

Zuzi writes:

Dear Off Campus,

I really don't get your blog. Is this supposed to be funny? Mommy and Daddy say that it's OK for me to look at your blog because you use small words and are not photographic. Will you buy some popcorn for my school trip?

Zuzi Tintorerra
Age 7

PS - Do Easter eggs ever hatch?

Dear Zuzi,

This reminds us of a story that happed to me when I was your age (give or take 5 years).....

Every Easter morning, "The Easter Bunny" used to hide our Easter eggs in and around my house. Even though my sister and I had participated in dipping the eggs into the Coffee Cups o' Color the night before, we still had to find them the next morning before we could hand them off to our father to eat (we didn't like to eat 'em, just color 'em), and more importantly, we couldn't eat any of the candy in the basket until the eggs were all rounded up.

Anyway, one year we neglected to find one of the eggs, which lay hidden under a couch cushion in my father's favorite TV chair. There it sat for days until a strange sound began to rise out from under my father's relaxed, uh, "southern temperate zone". At first we thought it was just a reaction to the beef we'd had for dinner that night, but the prolonged repetition and high pitch of the noise ruled out the 'ol "chocolate thunder". Sensing something was not quite right, he got up and lifted the cushion to find that, unbelievable as this may seem, the Easter egg had HATCHED. Somehow, the combination of warmth, methane, and low-level radiation from the Zenith had caused a reaction with the Easter egg dyes and jump-started nature, right there in the recliner chair. And what did we see there, looking back at us with tiny puzzlement?

A psychedelic chicken.

That's right, looking just like it stepped out of a Peter Max painting, a multi-colored (we're talking one of the BIG Crayola boxes here, folks) baby chick was staring at us in wide-eyed puzzlement. As my father went to get the hammer, my sister and I sang repeated choruses of "Can we keep it/Can we?/Can we?" in the round until my parents gave in and let us have the only day-glo featherhead on the block. It was the best Easter ever! Even better than when I got the Weird Al tape in my Easter basket in 1983!

Chicky Hendrix, as we call her, lived with our family for several years, making the newspaper (which sadly only ran its photos in black and white, thus diminishing her mindbending visuals in print) and an episode of REAL PEOPLE, which sadly never aired, as the master tape was accidentally destroyed when Skip Stephenson and Byron Allen let an inter-office Jart game get out of hand, and one of the deadly aerodynamic spikes crashed into the editing room and skewered the reel the Chicky segment was on.

She loved to dance to Moby Grape, Jefferson Airplane, and Iron Butterfly especially. To see her happily hop around and flap her wings to the "Inna-Gadda-Da-Vida" drum solo was something that those who witnessed it will not soon forget. She was prone to lying on her back in the yard and staring at the sun, and not clucking so much as humming.

Chicky left us one summer day when the circus came to town. I guess she saw the trucks go by our house, spotted the brightly-colored paintings on the side, and felt that she had at last found her people. Once the convoy of carnies rolled past our house, all that were left to remember Chicky by were a few multi-colored feathers and some particularly odd memories.

We tried to hatch another psychedelic chicken a few more times after that, but PAAS must have changed their ingredients (or my father changed his diet), as the magical combination of factors that led to Chicky never again came together.

So yes, Zuzi, you can hatch Easter eggs. Just not that easily. Or often. So don't try. Really. You're better off learning to weave straw or taking a German class or something you can make money from later in life.

you don't scare me

2006-04-09T19:34:00.000-04:00

My day job is in advertising, so yes, I am one of the folks who gets paid to help tell the world what to think, what to do, and more importantly, where to spend their money. I work for the local newspaper, rather than agencies representing major corporations, so I like to think we're not evil. Not entirely anyway.

One thing that has always left a bitter taste, is the use of scare tactics to sell. These run the gamut from fashion to medicine - fear of humiliation for not looking cool, or fear of death (due to social crippling acne, or E.D.). Something I actively try to avoid (scare tactics, acne and E.D. - I just avoid the whole lot).

"Buy this thneed because it's great!" not "Buy this thneed or the cute brunette in psych will laugh at you, and not even your mom would go with you to prom, you dork"

I was genuinely shocked this morning, when I saw a commercial for an upcoming Ballet company's performance in Boston of Swan Lake...

(deep announcer voice)

"Go see Swan Lake, or live to regret it!"

Scare tactics to sell the arts. Great.
:(

Not so close to home, (cookin')

2006-04-01T16:43:00.000-05:00

After living a semester in Europe, experimenting with various levels of vegetarianism, and becoming an avid watcher of the Food Network, I've become pretty open-minded about differences in cuisine. Eastern and Western.

Seeing firsthand pizza served with an egg on top (sunny side up), chicken brought to the table on a platter with the feet still attached, and being "forced" to sup on a meal of hamburgers and fries - on Thanksgiving - (not a very big holiday outside of this country), I've learned not to take even the most normal of "Western" cuisines for granted....

That being said, I was cuisinely shocked on a trip to the seemingly far off and foriegn land of Ohio (thankfully my In-laws had the good sense to emigrate to New England while my wife-to-be was young).

We'd just left a cold and snowy New Hampshire April, and landed in a hot and sunny Cincinnati, OH (technically Kentucky, but lets not split hairs... it was about to get weird...)

My father-in-law met us at the airport and took my wife and I to a pizza place he knew for lunch. I think we ordered sandwiches, my father-in-law ordered coffee (he always orders coffee) and a small pie with cheese and hamburger on it.

"You mean beef?" the middle-aged woman behind the counter asked?

Tired from the trip, wondering if we were being offered an "upgrade," and just trying to be agreeable, we said "sure"

I wanted something cold to drink, so I asked for a Sprite. She counter-offered with "Iced Tea?"

Ok.... not sure what parallel she's drawing with that one... Don't offer me a ginger ale. Don't tell me you have Coke, Diet Coke and Milk.... just make a leap and offer me whatever you like... I'm tired, I don't care.

"Sure." I don't generally like iced tea but was tired and weirded-out enough to not know how to cope.

We were the only customers in the restaurant mind you - generally my wife and I will never set foot in a new restaurant without patrons. However, I was told this was THE pizza place they used to go to all the time (but that was many years ago). Everything was brought out to the table one item at a time....

First my unsweetened iced tea, and everone elses drinks, then a small paper bowl full of sugar - helped the tea a bit (despite being at least a cup more sugar than we knew what to do with), and only served to add to the weird experience.

Next came the pizza. The "beef" topping we were offered was not nice, juicy cubes of steak but, rather, ground hamburger.

What the hell kind of place is this? I'm pretty sure hamburgers were on the menu, so what's the problem?

hypothetical....
Patron - "What can I git fer ya?"
Customer - "I'd like a hamburger. Oh, but wait I'm on Atkins, so hold the bun."
Patron - "Oh, so you don't want a hamberger then. You want beef?"
Narrator - Customer is served not a steak, not a Salisbury steak, nothing but a bunless hamburger (with fries)

The next day, on a quick trip to the grocery store, we couldn't find soda on the signs at the grocery store... that was until my wife remembered it was 'pop'. At least we weren't in the part of the country where all types of soda were a 'Coke.' (orange soda, root beer, Pepsi... all called Coke)

What other "translations" were I going to need to learn on this trip?...

Ultimately, and perhaps thankfully, we drove past the score of Waffle Houses and Cracker Barrels and hit the Olive Garden for dinner, and didn't have to worry about wondering what we were really going to be served... thankfully they didn't ask If I wanted gravy on everything there. (no - that happened at breakfast...)

The Agony of Da Feet

2006-03-25T19:44:00.000-05:00

I check my e-mail several times each day, but the most time spent delving into the inbox is usually during breakfast and lunch. There I sit, ingesting and reading, clicking and chewing, getting caught up on a myriad of missives. My personal e-mail account is through Hotmail, a free web-based service that is kept afloat by the ever-present banner ads that we all know and loathe. (Well, that and the multibillion dollar Microsoft Corporation.) I've pretty much learned to visually tune these ads out automatically at this point, but lately a new trend in marketing has me averting my eyes and putting my hand over my mouth, lest I yak on the keyboard.

Foot fungus ads.

Okay, this is just gross, and really has to stop. I'm sitting there, eating a bowl of Cheerios, and there's this yellow-green big toenail staring back at me. Or better yet (and that's "better" as in "much, much worse"), it's an animated ad with a little gremlin popping the nail up like it's the hood of a '73 Buick, exposing the horror underneath. MUNGO FELDINI! Do we really need to see this? Is this disgusting bit of visual horror anything anyone wants to click on and delve further into? I know when I see those (out of the corners of my quickly-averted eyes), I quickly click away to another page, hoping for a more appetizing ad to calm my violently churning stomach. I think, if anything, the regular presence of these ads would induce people to avoid visiting certain sites. And it can't be that any keywords in my messages are causing these ads to be tailored to my interests, because for the life of me I can't recall ever using the words "toenail" or "fungus" in a personal e-mail message, unless I was writing to a government official.

I realize that many people must suffer from foot fungi and sympathize with their plight, but I really, really don't need to see this problem magnified and animated on my computer screen. What's next? Flash animated hemorroid ads with the words "Roid Rage" strobing across my screen?

Fung off, I say!

Now it's personal

2006-03-14T21:39:00.000-05:00

The mailbag (both the virtual and the good old fashined ones) have been busting at the seems lately, and quite frankly we're surprised by all the requests for a little more information about the people behind off campus. Who we are, where we're from and what makes us tick. To risk coming off a tad impersonal, we'd like to answer these questions en masse (to save a little time, stave off the carpal tunnel... and well honestly, we've run out of 2 cent stamps). To make it up to our most faithful readers - send us an SASE, and we'll send you something!

Answers to the OC FAQ:

Usually 3 times a week.
Keene, NH
Surprisingly, twice this past week.
Yes, much shorter than you'd think.
Mocha chip first no question - chocolate and peanut butter a distant second.
I'd wake up with a headache if I didn't get any.
Just Keep your hands off my power supply - the only copy I'd ever seen, actually.
A combination letters, with only a "J" added.
Pottery for a short time, and now, the Lathe.
A long night by myself in a monestary in Paris, right before Christmas.
Mostly blue, with a little green
I probably still have it somewhere (if my parents didn't thow it out or sell it)
The night I turned fifteen.
It wasn't yellow when I saw it.
Balcony, front and center.
Only when it rains.
Not very often. Usually we just write down the first ten things that come to mind.
Curry Pineapple.
The Monkees (4), and a four-way tie between Shonen Knife (2) The Donnas (2), Supagroup (2), and The Upper Crust (2).
Larry Hagman, Forrest Tucker, and Alan Hale, Jr.
It's effortless for me. I don't even have to try.
Probably about 1,000 hours at this point.
When I was twelve, but I didn't tell anyone.
Once in OH, twice in UT, and never in SC.
Orange Circus Peanuts.
Lee Majors.
A BA in Film Theory, for what it's worth.
See, there's a story here. If we'd known it was going to turn out that way, we would have used flame-retardant wigs.
Fritz Belgian Fries (plug, plug).
Sweet's 7-inch of Little Willy (gee, that sounds dirty).

Soup's on. If you dare.

2006-03-07T23:37:00.000-05:00

Some 20 or so years back, a very "non-Indiana Jones" Harrison Ford starred in Mosquito Coast, where he moved his whole family into the rainforest bringing some sort of Ice machine with him. He was touting ice as what made civilization possible. Not the wheel. Not fire. Ice.

A recurring kitchen incident has got me thinking that before mankind got around to inventing the wheel, New York, war and so on, we had to invent the opposable thumb. None of our achievments would have even been possible otherwise. The insight for what we needed as a species to invent such an adaptation must have been deeply profound. Unless it was a fluke - an accident, perhaps, followed by improper medical care (by a primitve pre-neanderthal clearly suffering from the inability to grasp or use tools).

A really nasty hunting or gathering accident, perhaps a fall into the brambles or down a ravine that led to the most massively useful adaptation of our appendages. Why they stopped before proceeding to opposable toes was just ignorant. That would have been profound, and very helpful as I struggle through typing (and a myriad of other tasks I can barely mananage to perform (without any style or grace)), thanks to a massive wad of gauze shielding my nearly decapitated thumb from the dangerous forces of the universe - and icky germs.

The graceful and staccato rythym of the multi-finger dance across QWERTY will just have to wait, as I lumber along with an enormous bandage that speaks - no broadcasts loudly with streaming video, THX quality sound, and a flashing neon sign - of terrible and unspeakable horrors beneath. Horrors that really aren't

The truth of the matter is that this massive shield of gauze and first aid tape, a veritable cocoon or glove for thumb boxing if you will, it's just an obstacle to living. I have no pain beneath. Blood? Yes. Lots of that, but no pain.

I must have severed the nerves the first time... pain signal can't get through. (you know.... There's a telegraph line, you've got yours and I've got mine, It's called the nervous system...)

I've spent my DIY weekends, repairing and upkeeping the house, attempting to make furniture and other useful things out of wood, all while juggling power saws, chisels, and numerous other implements of electric death (as is so warned by the safety graphics printed thereupon), I've remained mostly unscathed on that front (knock on wood).

To date I've made 2 attempts at a thumb decapitation. Both times in the kitchen. Both times while making soup.

A sharp knife, followed by a trip to the emergency room for a quick re-glueing, (Superglue. Not kidding. No stitches.) Then a tetanus shot and a 5 inch thick sock of gauze got me out of cooking dinner for the family. It also gave me the first aid skills I'd need a mere 3 years later, when I thought I'd be fun to try to take out the same thumb. I made it halfway through the thumb and nail before I realized what happened. Cleaned it up, put on a coat of glue, and wrapped it up without bothering with the drive, and $10 copay nonsense. Tetanus was up to date and I never felt a thing. Didn't need the ice, and it's healing just fine.

The soup? Delicious!

I Scream, You Scream

2006-02-24T20:50:00.000-05:00

The good folks over at Ben & Jerry's (Ben and Jerry) just fired off an announcement of their new flavors for 2006. We're particularly thrilled with some of the new taste sensations. Black and Tan, Turtle Soup and Vanilla Ice Cream Bars.

Following suit with their line of ice creams paying homage to famous musicians and funny people, Cherry Garcia, Doonsbury Sorbet, Phish Food and Pistachio, comes the latest, and the punniest. It's.... Vermonty Python Origional Ice Cream, complete with little Fudge Cows...

(What, no Crunchy Frog? No Ram's Bladder Cup or Lime Cream?)

We're sure the Britons are now finally appeased since the departure of Cool Brittania to the Flavor Graveyard. (Or should that be flavour graveyard?)

A scan of the graveyard shows some of the tasty ideas who's time has come and gone. But what of the other flavors, never so briefly worthy of consideration? Ones inspired by a two pint trip on Dave Matthews Band Magic Brownie Ice Cream, briefly jotted down, and fortunately not hitting the stores this spring.

Jim Crow Jubilee (vanilla ice cream with white chocolate bits and coconut shavings)

Pickles N' Cream (nuff said)

Graveyard Granola (six flavors mixed into one unidentifiable grey slurry, with bits of granola mixed in for texture)

Numb Nuts (Anbesol-laced maple walnut, with additional Brazil and corn nuts mixed in)

Piggly Wiggly (Ham-flavored ice cream with bacon bits) (non-kosher)

Great Scot! (Butterscotch and whisky swirled with Haggis)

Crab Apple Pie (Apples and cinnamon swirled with crab meat in vanilla ice cream)

Almond Brothers Crunch (toasted almonds and Cap'n Crunch(TM) cereal in chocolate and vanilla swirl)

Chicken and Waffles, with Collards and Grits (a bad Vermont spin on Southern comfort food - with Southern Comfort(TM) swirl)

Hot Buttered Popcorn Chocolate Cookie (two great tastes, that are great together - but not in ice cream)

Manson Mint (don't drink the Kool Aid(TM) either.)

Mario Van Pebbles (Chocolate and Vanilla Ice Cream with Flintsones Chocolate and Fruity Pebbles(TM) Cereal mixed in)

Dr. Frankenfurter ...with a bit of mustard

Pizza Hut(TM) Stuffed Crust Pepperoni Supreme Cream (if you're intrigued, go see your doctor)

Eating Survivor and the Olympics

2006-02-18T20:05:00.000-05:00

Now that Survivor is back on TV, i figured I'd give their diet a go, as another futile attempt at dropping a couple pounds - albeit a extreme one. 1/2 cup of rice a day, combined with plenty of lethargy, and throw in the occasional odd-ball physical challenge.... bound to be gaunt and lifeless by summer! I'll fall out of all my clothes, but oh how skinny I'll be. One upshot - by remaining Stateside, I'll avoid a host of bug bourne plagues that make West Nile more like a common cold.

But, while waiting for the Uncle Benz to boil, the Olympics came on TV. In Italy no less, so I modified the plan a touch. Instead of a little rice everyday, (and only to keep it topical and interesting), I'll substitute in orzo, cappellini, rotini, lasagne, polenta, fettucini, stuffed shells and so on. I shall eat with relish and gusto!

In their first week on the island, the folks on survivor look like they've all lost enough weight to drop a size or two. I'm happy to report that their weight is not lost. I've found it all.

Today's menu included Italian sausage panini, plus heaping portions of angel hair with sausage, marinara and freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. Tomorrow, a 7 layer Lasagna, and Tiramisu. Mario and Giadia would be proud!

On tonights really big shew,

2006-02-12T21:28:00.000-05:00

musical guests, The Beatles with the Monkees!

Paperback Believer. Sounds even better than you remember.

you can get here from there

2006-02-07T21:40:00.000-05:00

Just a random sampling of the routes in which people found this blog the past couple weeks:

A search for the "raisinette logo" a "high calonic" brought people here, as did a google search for the Guinness Book.

When someone asked Google, "what is wrong with campus lunches".... we came in at #3

if you're looking for William petersen sneezing, we're a measly #7, Boston Butt, an abysmal #78

But if your looking for Butt Cinema, we're an appropriate, though perhaps horribly dissapointing, #2. (out of 764,132) - we're number 3 too!

under the table

2006-02-05T20:22:00.000-05:00

Looks like my little girl was drinking too much for a Sunday morning. I found her, quite happily, under my latest project (part of it anyway)

30 hours (so far) from a pile of rough lumber (hard maple) to a 3' square pub table. (For reference, the bottom of the apron is 39" off the floor.) Now I just need to finish. Literally.

Read more at my other blog.

Golden Butts

2006-02-01T21:04:00.000-05:00

To get you in the mood for the Oscars, here's a re-cap of that OTHER Hollywood awards show, The Golden Globes, as passed through the Butt Game filter. Use this handy-dandy guide to place your bets on who will take home the little shiny bald man in March. Once you figure out who'll win that date with Gavin McLeod, you can then use the list to make your Oscar picks.

Golden Globe Winner 2005 - Butt Game Edition

We here at OC have now reviewed the tape (which, by the way, allowed us to watch a 3 1/2 hour program in about two hours)*, and can now detail for our faithful reader(s) the results of the 2005 Golden Globe awards, presented here for the first time via the miracle of The Butt
Game:

Best Motion Picture - Drama
BROKEBUTT MOUNTAIN took the other nominees by surprise, beating out such heavyweights as THE BUTT GARDENER , GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD BUTT, A HISTORY OF BUTT, and BUTT POINT.

Best Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy
WALK THE BUTT, shaking its virtues in the face of BUTT & PREJUDICE and THE SQUID AND THE BUTT.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Drama Philip Seymour Hoffman for his quirky performance in BUTT, knocking Russell Crowe (for CINDERELLA BUTT) out of the ring.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture - Drama
Felicity Huffman grabbed the shiny shaft for her work in BUTT, while Charlize Theron (for BUTT COUNTRY) and Ziyi Zhang for (MEMOIRS OF A BUTT) were given the plain old shaft.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy
Joaquin Phoenix for WALK THE BUTT left Johnny Depp (for CHARLIE AND THE BUTT FACTORY) limping home.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy
Reese Witherspoon for WALK THE BUTT, trampling Keira Knightley for BUTT & PREJUDICE and Sarah Jessica Parker for The FAMILY BUTT.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Motion Picture
George Clooney for his powerful and hairy performance in BUTT.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Motion Picture
Rachel Weisz for The BUTT GARDENER, burying Shirley MacLaine for (IN HER BUTT).

Best Director - Motion Picture
Ang Lee came from behind for his work on BROKEBUTT MOUNTAIN, leaving Woody Allen (for BUTT POINT) and Peter Jackson for (KING BUTT) sore for the rest of the evening.

Best Screenplay - Motion Picture
Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana for their work in banging out BROKEBUTT MOUNTAIN.

Best Original Song - Motion Picture
BROKEBUTT MOUNTAIN's Gustavo Santaolalla and Bernie Taupin "A Butt That Will Never Grow Old" beat out such memorable tunes as "Christmas in Butt" (from CHRISTMAS IN BUTT - Tony Renis, Marrow, Marva Jan), "Wunderbutt" (from THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: THE LION, THE WITCH AND THE BUTT - Alanis Morissette), "There's Nothing Like a Butt on
Broadway" (from THE BUTTS - Mel Brooks), and the spirit-lifting "Travelin' Butt" (from BUTT - Dolly Parton).

Best Original Score - Motion Picture
John Williams for MEMOIRS OF A BUTT, beating out the thunderous sounds of KING BUTT, composed by James Newton Howard.

Best Foreign Language Film
PARADISE BUTT (Palestine) blew the competition to bits, including JOYEUX BUTT (France), BUTT FU HUSTLE (Hong Kong), WU BUTT (China).

(and not up for an Oscar, but at least one or two awards from the two or three dozen awards shows coming soon to a small screen near you) The Emmy's, the Latin Grammy's, The Anglo/French Grandpa's, The Half Swedish/Two-Fifths Scottish TV and Music Awards, The Razzies, The Spazzies and of course The MTV Spaceman Award

Best Television Series - Drama
Everyone to tunes in gets sucked in, ABC's powerhouse of mysterious mystery, "Butt", beating out "Commander in Butt", "Grey's Butt", "Prison Butt"

Best Television Series - Musical or Comedy
"Desperate Buttwives" rubbed their success in the faces of "Curb Your Butt", "Everybody Hates Butt", and "My Butt Is Earl".

Best Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television
Butt Falls "Buttpool", "Into the Butt", "Sleeper Butt", and BUTT SPRINGS.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Mini-Series or a Motion Picture
Made for Television
Jonathan Rhys-Meyers for perfectly pelvic portrayal of The King in
"Butt" Rock-a-Hula'd all over Bill Nighy in THE BUTT IN THE CAFE and
Donald Sutherland in "Butt Trafficking".

Best Performance by an Actress in a Mini-Series or a Motion Picture
Made for Television
S. Epatha Merkerson for in LACKAWANNA BUTTS, Halle Berry for THEIR EYES WERE WATCHING BUTT.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Television Series - Musical or Comedy
Steve Carell for his portrayal of an uptight office head in "The Butt", over Charlie Sheen in "Two and a Half Butts".

Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series - Musical or Comedy
Mary-Louise Parker for her seedy role in "Butts", beating out the entire cast of "Desperate Buttwives".

Best Performance by an Actor in a Television Series - Drama
Hugh Laurie for his probing work in "Butt, M.D."

Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series - Drama
Geena Davis for her role as the forceful "Commander in Butt".

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Series,
Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television
Paul Newman for his role as an aged windbag in BUTT FALLS.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Series,
Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television
Sandra Oh for "Grey's Butt", whupping Candice Bergen for "Boston Butt".

* We then spent the one-and-a-half hours we saved (plus the following two+ weeks) debating which was funnier: Walk the Butt, or Butt the Line, and Grey's Butt or Butt Anatomy.

Don't be fooled, the Butt Game may appear to be simple juvenalia, but it is really very serious comedy.

Coming soon, (or never) the Butt Game looks at the 100 most important books of all time.

Dumb Me

2006-01-28T13:58:00.000-05:00

Why is it that I can't remember my checking account number or my father's birthday, but still can recall with quartz precision my Columbia Record Club membership number (8K444915), which I haven't been a member of in 15 years?

I can recite, at the drop of a vittle, the complete opening and closing themes to "The Beverly Hillbillies", but cannot for the life of me come up with the phone numbers of my best pals, who I call every week?

Is this early old-timer's disease? Were the nay-sayers right about water fluoridation? Is it the brain drain? Is my brain draining?

Sometimes this bothers me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm getting dumber in my early pre-middle age (or late post-adolescence). Did comic books and monster movies truly rot my brain? I've always been substance-free (unless you consider grape Bubble Yum a "substance", and if you do then I'm a bubble junkie, baby), so it can't be that. I never banged my head when it was fashionable to do so in some circles, so metal health didn't drive me mad.

I'm starting to wonder if my brain is simply full, and unable to judge which information is worthy of purging and which is important enough to retain. In a pinch, is it better to recall the correct running order of the PLANET OF THE APES series (PLANET, BENEATH, ESCAPE, CONQUEST, BATTLE, repeat) or the right terminal to attach a jumper cable?

I mean, I don't really want to un-learn anything, like the best way to get ketchup to flow out of a glass bottle or how to make really boss farting noises with my inner elbow, but I'd easily sacrifice my instant recall of the 800 number for the "Ghostbusters Hotline" from 22 years ago (1-800-654-1984) in exchange for remembering how many days there are in March.

They keep taking my shows away

2006-01-24T17:59:00.000-05:00

First ALIAS, and now I've just learned that THE WEST WING has been cancelled.

Am I saddened that my shows will be gone, or relieved at the two hours a week I'll be getting back?

There was a time, a couple friends who were hooked on their standard show fare decided to, and actually stuck with the plan to not bother with re-runs. To their credit, they had glorious summers in the garden, on vacation and doing things during and after the extended daylight hours, that even the Army can't get done before 8am.

A great idea, I thought, we must try this. Unfortunately, this was the first year that the networks introduced new shows and off season replacements, rather than rerun all the tried and true programming from months, if not weeks before. And so we were hooked on the likes of the Amazing Race, The Mole and Last Comic Standing.

Forgetting once again, that I could have mustered up a break from the TV, I actually looked forward to this past summers crop of new programming - only to find myself completely turned off by Dancing with the Stars, Annoying Celebrities who've wasted their 15 minutes already, and other useless crap that someone had to have slept with (a lot) someone (ugly) to get aired. I was stuck changing channels finding something other than re-runs of CSI to watch. Food network fit the bill most of the time. Pining away for September and the return of my beloved Alias, CSI and The West Wing.

Yes. I'm sad to see Alias and West Wing go, and I wonder what new trap I'll get sucked into to keep me out of the workshop, garden and or running around the backyard like a crazyperson with my daughter (since it doesn't embarrass her quite yet - not like that's gonna stop me when it does). I'll stick with Lost (perhaps become more obsessed with it, and the origional CSI, though I could now finally embrace all it's incarations, unless perhaps Aaron Sorkin and JJ Abrams colaborated on a new series. Oh to dream!

43 words on American Idol

2006-01-21T17:09:00.000-05:00

Good thing my daughter (age 3) isn't one of the judges - she'd would still let through all the good singers - but would lose it's nasty appeal.

Her one and only comment Wednesday - "He didn't sing very good," she said quite matter-of-factly.

Golden Globs

2006-01-17T20:26:00.000-05:00

Being the pseudo-pop culture mavens we are, we were glued to the set last night watching the Golden Globe awards... Revealing dresses notwithstanding. (Besides everything else was a re-run, though I did get some good dinner ideas on Food Network during the commercials.)

While Hilliary looked Swank and Evangeline was more lovely than a Lily, I just couldn't keep my thoughts from returning to Nicolette Sheridan. Is it just me, or does always look really scary? Intimidatingly so. Or at the very least, really, really uncomfortable?

Nicolette, I'm trying to enjoy myself watching TV here - but I can't - I'm scared and concerned. For fear of meeting you in a dark alley, perhaps I could suggest a Zen Master? Chiropractor? Acupuncturist? High Calonic?

For fear of not meeting one of your colleagues in a dark alley, dark corner or private venue of their choosing - I'll promise I'll stand and take my licks. Felicity, I'll even talk shop (wood shop) with your husband. I'm sure he could teach me a thing or two about the lathe... but I digress.

I'm sorry to have broken a cardinal tenet of this blog and spent more than zero words talking about ABC's first time slot replacement for Alias (at least I didn't slip and name the show :). It feels good to get that off my chest, despite possibly coming off a little Joan Rivers.

Now we can get back to more important things - stay tuned for The Golden Globes Recap - the Butt Game version. As well as blogs about food and useless inanities - Important Stuff!

The Butt Game Revisited

2006-01-11T22:59:00.000-05:00

In an effort to keep up-to-date with current cinematic trends, as well as maintain an air of sophistication around this blog, we would again like to present you with another round of The Butt Game. The rules are still the same, no points are awarded, winners are determined by the ability of their titles to make milk shoot out of other people's noses in the lunchroom, and only you can prevent forest fires.

Here we go......

Playing this week at the Off Campus Multiplex (and Used Lamp Shade Emporium):

CINEMA 1:
A down-on-their luck husband and wife team turn to a socially frowned-upon activity to generate additional income in FUN WITH DICK AND BUTT.

CINEMA 2:
Three children escape their dreary world an enter through the backdoor into a magical kingdom in THE CHRONICLES OF BUTT.

CINEMA 3:
Two cowboys discover hidden feelings for each other and have to contend with saddle sores in BROKEBACK BUTT.

CINEMA 4:
Naomi Watts and Jack Black hear a low rumbling sound that shakes the jungle to its very core. What could have caused such a sonic trembling? Only...KING BUTT.

CINEMA 5:
TV newsmen in the 1950's fight McCarthyism, the Blacklist, and smoke like chimneys in GOOD NIGHT, AND GOOD BUTT.

CINEMA 6: (The crap screen with the sticky floor)
It's about vampires...with swords....bad wigs....and on top of all that, it looks like it's gonna....BUTTRAYNE.

CINEMA 7:
Once again, Steve Martin and his CHEAPER BY THE BUTT 2

CINEMA 8:
When two large families merge by marriage they try to forge a new family made up of YOURS, MINE, AND BUTT.

CINEMA 9:
Three friends cross the Australian outback and come up against something terrible. Soon they realize that they're up.....BUTT CREEK.

Extra Strength Resolv-O

2006-01-02T20:20:00.000-05:00

...now with 50% more Placebo!

It's a new year and we're doing our part to help the environment by recycling. It makes the planet healthier, and in turn, we are all healthier. Without that troublesome trip to the gym, the $37.63 in gas it costs to get there and all the toxic emmissions it realeases into the ozone.

So to do our part, we're happy to bring you this seasonally appropriate online content. Again!

If you didn't catch the comic version of this blog a year ago (And the latest US Census tells us you probably didn't) then this is ALL NEW TO YOU! IF your one of the 1-1,000 people who made the counter go ding, we'd like to thank you, by bringing you back to a younger and happier, if not funnier place... but first a word from our sponsor.

That's Right, all you need is Resolv-o*!
Rumpatatious Micklesulfate tablets
contains: Placebo and Yellow Dye No. 5

Lose weight, diet, exercise, learn French, learn to French, be a better husband, beat a better husband, clean the house, clean the oven, clean the oxen, stop smoking, go metric, heal the shunted, get the band back together, do the hokey pokey, shock the monkey, climb every mountain, learn to draw comics the Marvel way, alphabetize your belts, call your mother, walk the hamster, solve that Rubik's cube, close cover before striking, stop crying in public restrooms, take air hockey lessons, swim the Erie Canal, yawn continuously, ignore the voices in your head, see a doctor about that "paucity", spend a week in Lompoc, fix that kazoo, mend international relations, shave your tongue, tattoo your eyelids, eliminate walnuts, house and clothe the dizzy, spackle, consolide your remotes, streak at the opera, stop taking unnecessary medications and so much more, or not.

pay no attention to the fine print.
*Warning: PLACEBO* may cause psoriasis, paralysis, perestroika, constipation, loose and/or wobbly stools, heartburn, upset stomach, sneezing, indigestion, vomiting, loss of feeling in your limbs, loss of appetite, loss of sleep, Los Angeles, bone loss, hip displacement, you may see spots, stripes, plaid or paisley, a ringing in your ears, a fear of socks, insatiable thirst, pickles and milk cravings. Placebo* is not recommended for people, children under the age of 36 or women who may plan on becoming pregnant, president or may take a nap. Placebo is not intended to cure or treat any disease. This statement is not endorsed by the FDA, USDA, NBA or the ASPCA. Contrary to published reports, PLACEBO* will not stop time, but may stop most known vital organs. Please consult a statistician before wagering. Use of this product may lead to heat-induced Charleston fits. Taking PLACEBO while under the influence of alcohol and/or other drugs certainly couldn't hurt. If sweating, gesticulation, near or farsightedness, or blasphemy should occur while taking PLACEBO*, it is recommended you double your dosage. Should additional side-effects occur, Side-effects listed in this disclaimer may not reflect actual side-effects caused by PLACEBO*. At this point, the text in this paragraph should be small enough that it's safe for us to state safely that PLACEBO* will indeed cure cancer, grow hair, increase libido, give you x-ray vision, fight tartar, and/or help you learn calculus. All rights to the name PLACEBO* (and a table for two, in the back) are hereby reserved in the name of J.P. Skruujob, Inc. in perpetuity and for a long time after that. If you're still reading this, apparently your eyes are not what's wrong with you. Special wint-o-green PLACEBO* doesn't really taste minty, but more like a cheese danish.

also available in sugar free

Yule Be Merry

2005-12-28T20:27:00.000-05:00

My favorite sign this holiday season:

Do you like mistletoe, or do you prefer kissing balls?

No, I really don't wanna play.

2005-12-15T23:10:00.000-05:00

Ok, face it, your stuck at your great-aunt Mildreds house for the day. The eternity that is the post-Christmas Christmas. The day for all the family too distant to be included in any proper holiday get together. No gifts. Unless you count the dollar bill in the card you've got since you can remember. The gift that you "can't spend all in one place." The gift that mostly goes to the post office because you have to write out, and send a formal thank you.

The food borders on recognizeable and the relatives border on annoying. Your stranded sans ipod/gameboy or any 20th or 21st century distraction. Your only cousins not smart enough to get out of yet another day of holiday family obligation are all under the age of 7. What is one to do, when the only intelligent converstaion you have must somehow involve The Wiggles or Dora?

Let's face it, you're stuck with the kiddo's, which is way better than sitting around listening to the "grown ups" talk of diseases, procedures and all the other atrocities of aging (and everything else that's wrong with everything). Unless you can get them distracted, and get yourself extracted, your in for a sad day, that you won't be able to drink away come New Years Eve.

Let us offer up yet another public service, (we do it for the kids) Here is another batch of clever ideas at winning (or ending) family game time with your sanity intact.

Mousetrap: Place a live mouse on the board, and decree that if the real thing sets off the trap, everyone loses.

Twister: Frequent the bean dip.

Parcheesi (or however you spell it): Line up two of your playing pieces on the same space on the board, declare a "road block" and wait it out until everyone else quits.

Sorry: Evertime you roll the dice, punch the person directly opposite you (as many times as the number shown) and yell "Sorry!"

Candyland: Claim that you're color blind and that any attempt by others to correct you on your space advancement is an infringement on your civil rights. Move to the end of the board in four turns.

Yahtzee: "Accidentally" drop the dice in a conveniently placed cup of black paint. As they are now unreadable, the game is impossible to play. If anyone claims that the dimples on the surface can still be seen or felt, yell "No feelies!" and leave the room in a huff.

Any game involving playing cards: Announce an impromptu game of 52 Pick-up, and aim the deck into the fireplace.

Monopoly: Carefully lay out all the properties, dole out the money, and carefully position all the houses and other pieces. Declare a hostile takeover of the bank, grab all the money and run.

OC - Season Spoilers

2005-11-29T22:34:00.000-05:00

Despite the fact that we're past November sweeps and the TV landscape is settling down a bit - and hopefully not returning to the disrupting world of the October Reruns (Deja-vu or flashback?) we're still having a hard time staying 0n top of all the storylines, character arcs and crossovers.

Are you finding it hard to keep up with your weekly cathode-ray addictions? Too many TV shows to follow and not enough time (or tape....or TiVo memory) to watch them all? Too many continuing storylines that if you miss one, you're out of the loop?

Never fear, fellow fellows. We at Off Campus have managed to unearth the plotlines of the season finales of all your favorite shows. No more "appointment TV", no more scrambling for blank tapes or struggling to make room on the DVR....just read the following plot synopses, and free yourself from the shackles of weekly teleservitude (and make some wagers to help pay for all the books you'll now have time to read).

DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES

In an effort to escape their complicated, sordid lives, the Desperate Housewives plot a tag-team seduction of neighborhood amateur scientist/crank Fenster Dickinson (special guest star Harry Anderson, sporting a handlebar mustache), and convince him to build them a time machine, so they can escape to a simpler era. After much degradation, he agrees, the machine is completed, and the ladies are whisked back to 1845. Their slates wiped clean, the women form the Wisteria Ranch and take up cattle rustling, as well as opening a dance hall called the Sore Leg. Next season the series continues under the revised title DESPERADO HOUSEWIVES.

LOST

It is revealed in the final episode of the season that the island setting for the series is actually Pacific Disney, and the castaways have been in the "Plane Crash on a Freaky Deserted Island Ride" all along. Next season the series will switch to a courtroom drama format, following each of the 40 survivors’ lawsuits against the Disney Corporation.

ALIAS

It is revealed that the previous 5 seasons of stories and adventures in the life of Sydney have all been the daydreams of a 13-year-old girl in after-school detention. Future seasons will track Sydney as she struggles with teen issues, romance, and early application to the CIA. Sort of an ALIAS BEGINS shakeup for the series, an attempt to attract the all-important 9-17 female age demographic. Similar projects in the works for next season: "Nancy Drew: 2006," "Ramona Quimby P.I." and "The Adventures of Young Condaleeza Rice."

INVASION/SURFACE/THRESHOLD

All three series come to a head in an unprecedented three-way network cross-over, a three-hour season finale extravaganza. The casts and aliens of the three series all work their way to Weehawkin, New Jersey, where they join together to square off in a battle royale to decide which series remains on the air, as there can be only one aquatic-mind-control-aliens-and-the-people-who-hunt-them series on at a time, according to new FCC regulations. Hint: SURFACE wins, because their monsters are the biggest.

SURVIVOR: GUATEMALA

Margaret wins, after beating all of the other contestants, and host Jeff Probst, in a winner-take-all round of Red Light/Green Light.

THE APPRENTICE

In a surprise move, Donald Trump fires himself, and leaves the company to the would-be Apprentices to do with as they may. Anarchy and record profits ensue.

THE APPRENTICE: MARTHA STEWART

Martha gets hold of some bad muffins and slowly, over the course of the last 7 episodes, loses her grasp on sanity. The tasks she assigns to her prospective assistants become more and more bizarre (like building a life-size statue of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar out of margarine without using a spatula), until the season finale, where she instructs the two remaining contestants (Jim and Marcela) to face off in a kitchen implement death match to determine the winner. Jim wins, gouging out the eyes of Marcela with a hand-cranked eggbeater. Martha is committed, and Jim goes to jail in a lovely poncho he designed.

SUPERNATURAL

The two monster-hunting brothers finally find their father, who admits to lacing their Rice Krispies with LSD when they were children, leading to their uncontrollable hallucinations of creatures everywhere they go. They claim him to be a shape-shifting Bigfoot, and beat him to death with a boat oar. "Feel Like Makin’ Love" plays on the soundtrack as they hop back in their muscle car and head off for another season of hallucinatory vengeance.

THE WEATHER CHANNEL (8-9PM, June 6th, 2006 episode)

A high pressure system will move across the Midwest, bringing with it moderate rain and wind.

AMERICAN IDOL

Keebler McDaniels, a 23-year old seminary student from Feng, Illinois, wins with an astounding rendition of "Does Your Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavor On The Bedpost Overnight". The tension between the three judges that has been simmering over the past two seasons comes to a head in episode 14, when Paula sets Simon on fire, and Randy attempts to put out the flames by beating the acid-tongued Brit with the petite "Forever Your Girl" Songstress, while performing an off-key rendition of "Who Let The Dogs Out".

PRISON BREAK

The two brothers break out and escape via a prison-made hot air balloon, which crashes in a gypsum mine in East South Dakota. As they have now broken out of prison, the next season of the series will focus on the brothers’ attempts to remain incognito while selling gypsum-based lubricants door-to-door throughout the Midwest in an old minivan.

CSI/CSI:MIAMI/CSI:NY

Again, FCC regulations force the creators of the three series to decide which will remain on the air. A tornado of epic proportions hits Miami, killing all but the meek (wouldn’t ya know it), ending that series in a CGI spectacle that, while dazzling, manages to kill off every character in the MIAMI series. The original CSI also ends its run in a strangely supernatural episode, where the victims of all of the crimes ever perpetrated on the series return as a vigilante ghost brigade and completely wipe out all crime in Las Vegas forever. The CSI unit shuts down and each character performs a song at the end of the episode (William Petersen’s "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar" is especially moving, given the circumstances). The winner in the world of CSI is the NEW YORK series, which ends the season with a simple episode about a stolen ice cream cone in the Bronx. It turns up melted on a sidewalk, and all the CSI team can do is buy a new one for the little girl who lost it and call it a day.

LAW AND ORDER/LAW AND ORDER: CRIMINAL INTENT/LAW AND ORDER: SVU

Another victim of the FCC ruling. During a LAW AND ORDER workers annual picnic, the assembled casts unite and engage in all manner of outdoor competition and hijinks. Events turn tragic, however, when a full-contact Jarts tournament gets out of hand and 2/3 of the casts of the three series are killed when an errant Jart hits a propane tank. The remaining members form a new unit to continue the series under its new name, LAW AND ORDER: MONKEY TEAM ENFORCERS.

Kick off the Christmas Season with us!

2005-11-23T20:20:00.000-05:00

We will be open at 4:00 a.m. on Friday, Nov. 25th for your 'Holiday' shopping pleasure.

Don't spend all your time and money waiting at The Wal-Mart or Best Buy - set the alarm super early and spend the wee hours with us.

You'll be home in time (traffic notwithstanding) for a nice nap before lunch (Turkey, Stuffing and Cranberry Sandwiches), and a nice big cup of Christmas Cheer! (Cranberry Juice, Ginger Ale and Southern Comfort)

May your day be merry and bright....

Truth in advertising, or poor use of spell-check?

2005-11-05T20:59:00.000-05:00

The power of design is huge. It gets us to buy our widgets from company A instead of company B... even though they were probably made in the same factory. We're convinced by the words like NEW and IMPROVED, when often the only thing that's improved is the package.

The adage used to be buyer beware, but in this day of law suits for coffee being hot, (the horror), a plastic bag not being a toy (no imagination), or a tipped over coke machine causing injury or death (duh!), the truth in labeling laws are forcing manufacturers to be hyperaccurate about content labeling - forced to even mention non-attributes of a product just to be safe.

Warning! While the blog you are reading was produced on a computer in a facility with nut, wheat and dairy products, it is dolphin safe.

Imagine also a world where the contents inside are altered to reflect truth in advertising/packaging. Whether the labels can magically alter their contents to fit, or more probably an office scene like the following:

Lackey - "Boss, the new power bar labels just came back from the printer, but they have a typo on it. I'll call the printer to send us a new batch."
Boss - "No, that'll take too long. Adjust the product to match. That way they can't sue."

Picture a runner - out on his training run for his next half-marathon, water bottle in one hand, power bar in the other... he rips open the package to take a bite to refeul, and he's blinded by a white cloud. He should have read the label more carefully. He was about to eat a powder bar.

Top 5 altered products to watch out for

5. Cracker Slacks

4. Quaker Oat Meat

3. Kingsford CharKoala Briquettes

2. Salad Hooter

and last but not least

1. PisQuik

The Real Two-Party Problem in America

2005-10-21T17:17:00.000-04:00

Great minds, think tanks and people who've read books without pictures in them have thought long and hard about what's wrong in America. Articles in magazines, reports on NPR as well as a plethora of literature on the grassroots level point to a growing problem that is unknown in other nations.

We need to get get away from the 2 party system and its terrible effect on society. Being limited to the forces of only two parties is denying ourselves the diversity we as humans crave and need. We're mired in a bi-polar trap of being told what's popular, feeling pressured to lean toward inferior choices, "lesser evils," and denied choice. This is producing a generation of unthinking and unfeeling lumps stuck behind desks, on couches and in our SUVs.

Whether or not it's our fault, and whether or not you feel powerless to stop it, you can! We need the chance to cut loose, break free of our social restraints, reset and reawaken ourselves before we're doomed. Doomed to wasted weekends, grazing over plates of room-temperature bites of starch and protien, drinking warm cola and nursing a general sense of malaise.

We need to remember that there is more options beyond Birthday and Graduation parties. Parties without a need for a last minute gift, or to pass down the $20 Gramma gave you for your birthday last month. Often enough we're stuck with seldom seen extended family at a young childs party, where little Timmy sprayed a bit as he blew out the candles, and to make matters worse - there's no beer.

These aren't the parties of our youth. We had ideas, hopes and dreams, our minds were free, boundless, inspired. And we had fun. What happened? This isn't living, this isn't recharging us so that we can go back to the daily grind on Monday as happy and productive people. This is killing us, making us think that trudging through life is all that there is, waiting for the next obligation to cross off the list. Getting stuck into this mode is a death spiral. Dinners become bland and tasteless. Is this coffee or tea? I can't tell. TV devolves into a flickering box of light and no sound, yet we laugh because we are conditioned too. We become blind to the world and somehow we think we like the 4 songs playing on the radio in an endless loop.

We need to cast off the chains and LIVE people. Invite the gang over on Friday for a "Thank (insert deity of choice) it's Friday" party. Drag the grill up onto the rooftop for a midnight barbeque, arrange a whole host of gatherings for any and every reason. A "three-day full-contact scrabble tournament", a "My son got accepted into a real 4 year college" party, or an "I'm sorry your Mom blew up, Ricky" party where you speak in John Cusak quotes and one liners. Demand a $2.00 cover at the door.

Don't wait for your niece to graduate from Jr. High school before you feel entitled to live a little (or A LOT), there are reasons to celebrate everyday. Halloween is coming up, but before that, This Sunday is Mother-in-Law day, National Mole Day, and the start of Massage Therapy Awareness week. While that might take a little imagination, (I'm certainly not suggesting a Massage with your Mother-in-law party - unless you're in a show on FOX - not that I'll be watching), there is still time to celebrate German Heritage Month (if you're not German, hoist a stein until you are), National Chili month, Cookie Month, Pizza Month, Popcorn Month, Rollerskating month, Toilet Tank Repair month,... With a little imagination, the opportunities are endless. If you were on the ball in September, come November, you'll remember all the good times you had at The October Frozen & Refrigerated Food Festival.

Two Parties? Bah. Tear a page out of Alice in Wonderland and have 364 unbirthday parties everyday (save one) of the year. Plenty of fun. No presents, just cake. Without candles for your nephew to slobber out. Life is a Party, live it.

The other man problem

2005-10-16T20:51:00.000-04:00

I saw a commercial this morning. A new medication is out there to reduce swelling of the prostate. The typical list of possible side effects followed - May cause this or that side effect and Women were warned not to take this medication (due to the risk of a particular birth defect).

I would think you women out there wouldn't need prostate medicine, but I guess I'm just a dumb ignorant male, beguiled by the all-knowing world of advertising. May your prostates remain small and trouble free.

Surprise him in bed?

2005-10-03T20:37:00.000-04:00

I hit the bookstore for lunch at least once a week. And by lunch and mean coffee and magazines. I've been getting my fill of "Wired," "Fine Homebuilding" and "Cooks Illustrated". An eclectic mix for sure, but my interests are varied, and I've got time to kill in magazine paced increments.

What caught my eye last week on the "news stand", was one of the latest "girly magazines." You know - the ones that feature a striking photo of a beautiful, famous person, partially hidden by all sorts of headlines - covering such important and diverse topics as "How to be skinny and pretty," "How to be skinny and sexy" and "What men really want."

That last one's easy. A beer and the remote. But that doesn't exactly fill or sell magazines, so they make up stuff. Do you think that the actresses and models ever have a sense of what they are going to have to share the cover with? What will their proud parents not be able to hang up on the refrigerator? "Oh, honey that's a lovely picture, too bad it says '15 ways to tell he's cheating on you,' 'new hairdos that will get you any man you want' and 'hot new sex tricks'.... your father should recover from his heart attack soon. Just warn us next time." But, I digress.

Again, what caught my eye was a picture of Kiera Knighly, and the teaser headline cover "How to truly surprise him in bed." Well, she would be a surprise (a welcome, though unlikely one) to most men. Of course the best and most surprising ways wouldn't come out of the tabloids or any aspect of the Hollywood machine. Rather, they could all be dreamed up by the untained mind of your average gradeschooler.

So let us present to you, Our top 19 WAYS to REALLY SURPRISE HIM IN BED:
(we couldn't think of twenty, and it seemed like a nice round number)

Fill his pillowcase with a mixture of Twinkies and Folgers Crystals
Coat the sheets with Icy Hot.
Pet mice.
Swap the Nytol with No-Doze - extra strength.
Invite over Angela Lansbury (or Wilford Brimley).
Two dozen alarm clocks.
Strobe nightlite.
Slip him some sleeping pills, then when he's in a deep sleep, push his side of the bed against the wall. Set the alarm early.
Make him breakfast in bed - in bed.
Midnight Dance Party! (for diaper wearing toddlers)
Add a bag of QuikCrete (or a dozen boxes of Cherry Jello) to the waterbed.
Host a Chili Cook-Off/Slumber party.
Snow
Swap the sheets for fine-grit sandpaper.
Pinholes in the waterbed.
Laxative brownies. (This is only good if you're in seperate beds).
Pins in his pajamas
Play host to the latest IRS reality show - "Midnight Surprise Audit!"
Get your 5 year old jacked up on sugar and caffiene, encourage him to do whatever he wants until he winds down. (This is only good if you're not going to be there - working nights, out with the girls, or divorced).

Is something missing from our list? Let us know your favorite.

A Nerf's a Nerf

2005-09-28T19:40:00.000-04:00

We here at OC, being of sound mind and pocketbook, are ever-vigilant regarding consumer protection and product awareness. Wherever there may arise a new and interesting product, we pride ourselves in passing the word on to you, our faithful reader (you know who you are, George Sanderson, 1334 N. Beachwood, Trengley, WI). Likewise, when consumer products fail to meet the needs of consumer-type people (or "When Products Attack", as Fox TV would say), we feel it is our responsibility to bring these facts to you, the consumer, so that you, the consumer, can be better informed in your decision to buy, say, an egg-beater that also lets you download ringtones or a shoehorn that doubles as a stun-gun.

In light of this consumer awarenessness, we have recently had cross our desks an internal memo from the Nerf company, detailing a list of proposed Nerf products that, for one reason or another, failed to meet the high standards of the Nerf company, and never made it beyond the prototype stage. The following document (with sections XXXXX'ed out that are deemed to be sensitive information and/or a threat to Nerfional security) lists several rejected products, along with brief reasons for their failure to proceed past the testing phase at Nerf Labs. We hope you will find this information useful when....uh...not buying products that don't exist.

-----------

Internal Memo

Nerf Industries
Product Testing and Evaluation Department
XXXXXXX XXXXXX

Re: 2004 Q3 Product Prototype Results - Section 3B to 4Y - Negative Group

EYES ONLY

XXXX XXX XXXXXXX

Product No. 548325
The Nerf Pilates Ball

Test subjects had difficulty maintaining balance on the Nerf Pilates Ball, complaining that it lacked the necessary support to perform exercise and instead caused them to crash awkwardly to the floor whenever they attempted to place their weight on it. Suggestions were made that the item would be better served as an oversized pillow or dodge-ball substitute.

Product No. 882184
The Nerf Switchblade

While the product functioned properly, never failing to spring open when activated, the parents of some test subjects expressed concern over a product that would encourage children to have playground knife fights and begin using the terms "shiv", "blade", and "pig-sticker". Test groups of children (aged 4-7) were often found dividing up into gangs and shaking down the research observers for candy and spare change. Failure of this product to proceed beyond testing phase also brings to a close the development of the satellite product line of Nerf Zoot Suits.

Product No. 828637
The Nerf Bicycle Helmet

Field tests on this product indicate a basic re-design, if not complete abandonment, is necessary. Crash tests indicate that Nerf alone is not enough to prevent lacerations, abrasions, and skull fractures when a subject wearing the Nerf Bicycle Helmet impacts against concrete, brick, or tightly-packed hay at speeds as high as 40MPH, and as low as 3MPH. It was also learned, tragically, that Nerf cannot stop bullets.

Product No. 258764
The Nerf Thermos

This product was essentially a failure on all counts. The Nerf Thermos failed to keep hot liquids hot, failed to keep cold liquids cold, and essentially failed to keep any liquids contained within its soft, porous form. Upon pouring liquids into the Nerf Thermos, they were basically absorbed within its walls and then slowly began seeping out onto the countertop. Clinically one of the most disgusting things our technicians have ever witnessed. Especially the beef stew.

Product No. 483571
The Nerf Fondue Set

Much like the Nerf Thermos, this product had containment issues. While the liquid contained here was of a thicker nature, thus prolonging the eventual absorption and oozing, the end results were nonetheless disturbing. Primary factors in the failure of this product were: A) Nerf and extreme heat do not mix, B) Hot cheese and burning Nerf create a potentially deadly odor, and C) no human should have to witness the sight of a melted cheese/Nerf puddle.

Product No 588214
Nerf Jarts

Seeking to capitalize on the nostalgia for the long-banned backyard game of the 70's, this product was designed to be totally safe, even in the event of direct ocular impact. The end result of a non-lethal, totally Nerf Jart, however, was a fairly non-aerodynamic (a stiff wind could send the projectile off-course and into another state) projectile that through no amount of forceful lobbing would stick into the ground. A sub-group tested a revised version of the Nerf Jart, which featured 10-lb lead weights attached to aid in terrestrial penetration, but ultimately this modification resulted in the destruction of the Nerf aspects of the product, as well as several broken feet and cheekbones.

Product No. 757128
The Nerf Two-Person Submersible

Designed as an amusement and low-depth exploration vehicle for children ages 5-9, this item succeeded in living up to its name, as no sooner did the two test subjects climb into it and close the hatch, than the submersible sank like a wet Nerf rock to the bottom of the test tank. More a submersible-shaped lead sponge than a recreational sea exploration toy, the item, in its present form, delivers a one-way trip only. Focus group research has indicated that any association of the Nerf name and the words "watery grave" would lead to negative market recognition and possible loss of sales in the long term.

-- END OF REPORT --

XXXXX XXXXX,
Chief Engineer
Product Testing and Evaluation Department

XX XXXXX XX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

---------------------------------

We at Off Campus salute the staff at Nerf Labs for their continuing efforts in striving for safer consumer products, and making the world a better place through Nerf.

A church full of yankees

2005-09-19T19:33:00.000-04:00

My cousin was married this weekend, somewhere in the upper reaches of "Red Sox Nation." This was the first wedding we've been to that our daughter (age 2 3/4) was old enough to attend. I was most excited about the reception, where we could dance together, and she could jump and dance like the little ball of energy she is. We were expecting a quick (read "non-Catholic" ceremony) and figured her attention wouldn't get a chance to drift. An hour in the church could have been bad - sitting in a room full of strangers and no nap.

Despite all the squirming in my lap, attempts to escape or mold my face into funny shapes, she did very well. She paid attention - a bit too much attention. She commented and laughed heartily at the ministers highly exuberant commentary. (He did set a commanding yet light and amusing tone - which did wonders to calm the groom, who looked like he needed it). She caught and repeated the names of the people who were introduced to sing or give a reading, and was very interested in the "pianyo".

The most memorable moment of the evening, or rather the most quoted moment of the ceremony (from people sitting further away than I thought could have heard), came just after the minister made a comment about the church being full of "Yankees."
My daughter replied, somewhat loudly "Boo Yankees!" Twice.

We've never laughed so much at a wedding, (at nobodys expense), and never have so many people been more proud of a disruptive "baby" in church.

Hell hath no fury like Hell, when it's mad

2005-09-07T19:49:00.000-04:00

Did you ever make Hell mad at you?

I realize that the notion of making another dimension (one consigned to the afterlife, no less) angry at you seems unlikely, but hear me out. I think that, in one way or another, I've managed to upset the residents and management of Hell.

I've never been there (duh....I'm not dead yet!), or seen color photographs of the place, but I've been getting some pretty strong indications that if I were to visit for a weekend or an eternity, the welcome would be of a harsher nature than, say, your typical Saturday afternoon telemarketer gets.

At first, the signs that all was not swell in Hell were pretty subtle. I'd get the occasional demonic message coming through my alarm clock in the morning (which I initially thought was the antics of a "Morning Zoo" crew, until I realized that they generally don't broadcast through a wind-up clock), my toast would pop up with "The Beast awaits you" singed into it, and once in a while the TV would bleed. Other than that, though, everything was normal.

This week, however, I've found that my car drives by itself on my way to work in the morning, always in the wrong lane, and always double the speed limit, and the radio will play nothing but "Highway to Hell" at top volume (which I'm actually kinda fine with). Then the abusive e-mails started, all containing coarse language and vivid descriptions of uncomfortable places to put a spear, all coming from " hell.gov".

I've spent the last few days trying to figure out exactly WHY I've become such a focus of anger emanating from the tortured souls of countless sinners burning in the fires of eternity, and I think I may have figured it out. Combing through my "Sent Messages" folder in my e-mail, I noticed that I sent out a few mass-mailings of chain letters (hoping to get that free trip to Disney World or million dollars in M&Ms from Bill Gates, Jr.), and in doing so accidentally typed " thedevil@hell.gov" (which apparently is the address of His Dark Lord Satan) instead of "thedevil@hell.net" (my friend Kip). It turns out that the message had a virus attached to it that makes your computer play "I'm A Little Teapot" repeatedly (with accompanying visuals of a pony dancing with a fireman around a wishing well) until your CPU commits suicide. I'm on a Mac so the virus didn't affect me, but other friends reported that their antivirus programs caught the little cuss and quarantined it.

Apparently another aspect of Hell is that no computers have virus protection, and all are running Windows 95 with 32Mb of RAM and a 14.4k modem. (Translation for the computer illiterate, or technophobes not suffering from bouts of laughter: THEY HAVE STINKY COMPUTERS.) This virus must have locked up all their PCs, making their worldwide control of spam, bogus websites, and pop-ups shut down for the time being. As this is their main source of revenue and recruitment (according to U.S. NEWS AND WORLD REPORT), I can see why they're touchy about it. Pitchforks don't come cheap these days, you know.

So, I'm not sure exactly how to get back on the good side of Hell. Amazon doesn't deliver there, so there goes sending CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE DAMNED SOUL. For the time being, I guess I can live with the demonic tauntings and mind-bending multi-dimensional visions. Actually, if I can manage to keep this going until Halloween, I could have a pretty kick-ass haunted house attraction. Hmmm....if I charged 10 bucks a head......I just may be able to send some "sorry dollars" to the Hellions via PayPal (yeah, they own that, too) and let bygone multidimensional tiffs be bygone multidimensional tiffs.

Is it hot in here or is it just me?

History, Synchronicity, Anniversary?

2005-08-28T20:02:00.000-04:00

Here we are on the 1 year anniversay of the "comics" digital presence, permit us to pause for a moment and look back at the convoluted trip that brought us all together (virtually).

Whether you've been enjoying the blog, you're pining away for the return of the comics, or you keep coming back week after week because you lost a bet, join us as we (spare you the long and the short of it, and) give you just the Bullet points.

It all started with a bang, the universe cooled down and the planets formed.
something crawled out of the ocean, and grew legs, this evolved into man and horses (while one variant turned back to become the whales)
lots of stuff happened

Ok, no time for the bullet points, let me sum up.

Off to college to study Graphic Design in 1991 - Keene State College, Keene, NH. Not being a fan of the comics in the school newspaper, I started my own - Campus Radio. Junior year I spent a semester in St. Malo, France (a fortiefied medieval city right on the English Channel) while a bunch of classmates started up a TV Show (weekly latenight comedy/variety). I jumped back across the pond and managed to get on board, thanks to a chance encounter with the shows host and creator. I wrote, acted, directed and produced, (still doing the comic all along). Highlights included interviewing famous funnyman Steven Wright.

I hung it all up after graduation to go out into the big wide "real world." 9-5, marriage, house and fatherhood. Pursued some creative endeavors, but nothing like the intensity of all the extra curricular back in school.

Time passed, as is its wont, and I pulled the creative box out from under the bed when 168 launched and came calling for comic strippers and bloggers) - I teamed up with Mark - one of my tv buddies (we were literally the last men standing due to attrition at the end of my senior year), and revised the comic strip (renamed Off Campus) for 1/2 a year, and started blogging, and here we are. Blogging on and on and on...

A very convoluted series of events could very well be credited with creating more and lasting friendships, as well as beloved series; "Slow Motion Kung-Fu Theatre," "The Z-Team," and the game show phenomenon "Win or Die," plus noted characters; "Danger Boy" and "Dr. Storm" - TV weatherman complete with shirt, tie and nothing else. All may or may not be elaborated upon in future blogs.

Raise a glass of whatever you have (or go pour some champagne) and toast our paper anniversary! An odd choice for a digital medium.

And, yes, I was recognized by the manager of a Taco Bell - who was looking over the counter to make sure I had pants on.

-Scott

August Mail

2005-08-17T19:57:00.000-04:00

Dear OC,
Summer is here, and the lack of anything worthwhile on TV is killing me. I'm going numb from watching all this drivel. The good shows aren't even showing re-runs.
Any advice?

Stuck on the couch in Milton

Stuckey,

First of all, you need to realize and accept that there is more to life than TV. A whole world awaits outside your living room for you to explore, filled with myriad sights, truths, and adventures. Throw off the shackles of A/V mind control and breathe a victorious lungful of fresh air! Become active in your community! No city or town can have enough vigilantes! Get up, get out, and get going! You could be dead tomorrow!

Either that or go to the video store.

OC

Dear OC,
How long can I wait until I Declare my Major? I'll be a freshman at PSU in the fall. I want to try a little of everything and still be out in four years.

Undecided in '05

Undi,

Off the record: Some advice from those who know: your major matters minorly, for it is the know-how that you emerge from college with that shall hold you in good stead on the road to ruin. In plainer and gooder English, if you can dig a good ditch, nobody on the road crew will care if you were a marine biology major.

On the record: You have until the fall to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life. Get with it. Research your eyeballs out and hit Pelt State University with your head held high, declaring your major to everyone you meet. While steadfastly persuing your fully declared major, attain variety in your studies by taking as many elective classes as you can fit into each day, and perhaps an independent study or two on the side. The hours may be long, and the costs may be crippling, but by following this method, you'll be assured a fully-rounded education and at least one cardiac arrest by the time you graduate.

OC

Dear OC,
What's the best way to remove wood varnish from a potato salad?

Norb in Wardsboro

Norbin,

Take a trip on down to The Homey Depot (chu' can do it, we can help), you'll find a number of options. The good folks in orange can point you toward the best option based on the type of potatos (e omitted for Dan Quale) and whether the salad has a mayo or vinegar base.

I'd suggest starting with a more environmentally friendly, and therefore less toxic, option - "Citrus Strip" (a safe but hard working Non Methylene Chloride Stripper) or "Peel Away" (for restoration or hard to strip surfaces - handles up to 30 layers of paint in one application) might fit the bill just nicely.

If these don't cut the mustard, try "Goof Off" and a stiff wire brush or rent a pressure washer if time is of the essence. If you have the time, and aren't keen on ingesting trace amounts of volatile carcinogens, let the varnish dry, and peel it like a sunburn.

OC

And the winner (really) is...

2005-08-16T20:16:00.000-04:00

Congratulations Mark!

The pile is (still) ALL YOURS. I hope you enjoy another season of The Twilight Zone, Chips, 24 or whatever you choose to throw on top of the pile.

If you skip work, sleep and basic personal hygene (and FF through all the previews and commercials) you could be out from under it in a mere 23.25 days.

Happy viewing!

DUKEing It Out

2005-08-12T20:59:00.000-04:00

Seeing THE DUKES OF HAZZARD (or THE DUKES OF HASSARD, as one local theater seems to think it should be called, placing their "z"s backwards on the marquee) imagery once again flooding the airwaves reminds me of one of my earliest scholastic memories, circa 1979.

In our kindergarten classroom, there were several climbable playthings to amuse our young short selves when we weren't being read to, coloring, or playing with (and for some occasionally dining on) paste and construction paper. There was a balance beam, numerous tables and chairs, a small gymnastics mat for tumbling or general horseplay, and a wooden bus, which consisted of a hollow rectangular base that the chilluns could straddle as if they were "riding" it, and a wooden steering wheel at the front. The base of the "bus" opened on the side, so you could store....uh, imaginary luggage in there or something. This wooden bus-like structure was probably the most popular of the classroom play items, and there was always fierce competition to see who would get to use it for the 15-20 minute indoor recess.

Well, one day, two other classmates and I were lucky enough to get dibs on the bus, and it was decided that we'd play "Dukes of Hazzard", which was easily the most popular show amongst the whole school (K-6) at that point, a program that soaked through to the core of our tiny beings. Excitedly, we set about deciding which character each one of us was going to be.

"I'm Luke!" one kid called out, probably more because it was a God-like name at that point, invoking both the "Dukes" character and the hero of STAR WARS, which was the other school-wide obsession at that time.

The other chum followed with a lightning-fast "I'm Bo!"

I followed with a confused "What about me?"

"You're Uncle Jessie."

Now it might be hard for anyone older or younger to understand this, but being designated Uncle Jessie in a game of "Dukes of Hazzard" was just not what a male kindergartener wants to hear. For contemporary kids, it's like playing "Harry Potter" and being told you're Dumbledore. A good character, a noble man, but not someone who gets to mix it up with bad guys or, more importantly, DRIVE THE GENERAL LEE. (Though I never did see the last season or so of "Dukes", so for all I know Dumbledore may well have taken the General Lee out for a spin.)

Stunned, I accepted my fate as the useless character in our little adventure. The other two "Yee-haw"'d and hopped on our bus-shaped General Lee, ready for action.

"What about Uncle Jessie?" one of them asked. (I don't recall if it was Bo or Luke. At that point, I don't think any of us knew which one was which anyway. Come to think of it, I'm still not sure which is which.)

"Put him in the trunk."

I was then quickly assisted into the bottom "luggage compartment" of the bus...er, General Lee. I kneeled down and climbed into the dusty compartment, just big enough for a 5-year-old, and the door was shut.

In the darkness, I heard the muffled sounds of two little kids re-creating the average "Dukes" episode:

"There's Rosco!"
"Yee haaaaawww!"
"Take the jump!"

Meanwhile, I waited patiently for the "story" to include the part where Uncle Jessie is let out of the trunk.

"VrooOOOOOOMMMM!"
"Take that, Boss Hogg!"

Then the bell rang, and I heard the scuttling of many little feet, play objects being picked up, and the teacher issuing instructions to get settled and prepare for the next lesson.

When I climbed back out into the fluorescent light of mid-day, "Bo" and "Luke" were long gone.

And to this day, I've never played "Dukes of Hazzard" again.

And the winner is...

2005-08-10T20:15:00.000-04:00

still up for grabs.

Since no one could figure out the math and the complexity of our "win something from the pile giveaway," we've decided to extend the contest by offering up the following "bonus question round." No winners by this time next week (8:15 pm, Wed, Aug 17th) means that Mark gets the green light to buy buy another season set of some TV show to throw on the pile - further condemning him to complete melding with the couch - as well as upsettin' the misses with even more clutter.

The Question:

Currenlty in the pile, there are X episodes of The Twilight Zone, add to that, the difference in years between the newest and oldest episode of Benny Hill, times the number of Stooges, and the combined ages of William Shatner in the following appearances in the pile: Twilight Zone, final season of Star Trek and first season of TJ Hooker. To this number add the result of the number of episodes of the Man from Uncle, divided by the total number of video cassettes in the pile minus the number of DVD's. This sum, plus its numerical opposite (example 34+43, or 317+713) times the caloric content of a jumbo movie sized box of Sno Caps plus a large Diet Coke divided by the difference in minutes of the total running time of the Lord of the Rings trilogy plus The Bourne Identity/Supremacy minus Harry Potter (1-3) and the X-Men (all extended DVD versions where available) Divided by the widescreen aspect ratio, rounded up to the nearest 2 decimal places. Subtract the cost of 2 matinee ticktets for a movie at The Colonial Theatre, Keene, NH and divide the result by 2. This answer, in dollars and cents, can buy you what food item(s) on Fritz's Menu?

Bonus question: What would you have for dessert?

see previous post for rules, and contact info..

The Pile Abides

2005-08-02T20:05:00.000-04:00

When last we left my struggle with and against The Pile, I had XXX hours of viewing in front of me, and little clue as to when and how I might actually get through it all. What was purchased as a respite from the pressures of the real world was creating an unreal amount of pressure on me, threatening to overtake the free space in my living room and occupy my every waking moment in an attempt to "enjoy" it all and put it on a shelf.

FREE GIVE-AWAYS, keep reading for details...

Well, XXX months later, The Pile continues to grow. Every time I think I'm making progress, another online sale or local bargain bin catches my attention and my wallet, and, like The Blob or Communism, The Pile absorbs the new additions and continues to spread upward and outward. $5 each for Clint Eastwood classics?!? Yessir! A $.99 rack of used, hard-to-find flicks on VHS at a video store tent sale? Fill me up a box!! Season sets? DID YOU SAY SEASON SETS??

The mixed emotions remain. I like owning the stuff (since my taste in infotainment makes it unlikely I'll find what I like at the local video store), but have run out of space to put it. I could "go vertical" with it, but it might topple and kill me, or damage the Hummels (a Norwegian group of glass-blowing autoharp enthusiasts who are distant relatives of Tony, the little boy who lives in my mouth). When you have to go from racks to bins, you know you have a problem.

The daily burden is as strong as ever. I feel like I HAVE to watch a disc (or tape) every night, so that it can either go on the shelf (and off The Pile) or get traded in at the used music store in town (credit that is in turn used to get more stuff that winds up on The Pile), and thus is out of the house. I feel like I need to keep up a steady, daily viewing pace in order to make up for whatever additional items may get picked up over the course of a month, and stay "ahead" of The Pile. Once in a while I'm able to do this, but mostly, The Pile just looms and taunts me. Even when I DO find the time to watch something, I'm torn as to what to view, not because I'm trying to find the right film for my mood, but more because I'm trying to fit the most viewing in that I can at a given time (at 10PM, I might be able to fit in two 90-minute monster movies instead of a single viewing of SPIDER-MAN 2, which runs over 2 hours, with probably three times that duration in bonus materials). Two discs viewed vs. one? Monster movies win. Also, if a film is something I've bought blind (which I try to avoid doing, unless it's ridiculously cheap), there's more of a chance that I might not like it, and it could be a candidate for jettisoning from the house. So, the unseens usually take precedent over the old favorites.

Some titles sit on The Pile for a loooooong time. I always feel a sense of accomplishment when something that's sat unwatched for a year or more earns its (alphabetical) place on the shelf. A gentle tear is shed, a few quiet words are spoken, and an angel gets it wings.

Right now, The Pile stands about eight feet tall, DVD and VHS combined. Total running time of what's left to be viewed: 21,529 minutes (aka 359 hours...aka 15 days). Likelihood that I'll buy more stuff to add to it this week: about 50/50.

As was mentioned in my previous entry on The Pile, the damn thing is so big that it has its own e-mail address now.

In an effort to spread the joy of cinema (and get some more stuff out of my house), and due to popular demand (the popular demand from the Mrs. that I get this stuff outta here), we are again running a contest where YOU, the loyal OFF CAMPUS reader (which I suspect to be *the* OFF CAMPUS reader...) can win a piece of The Pile for your very own nefarious uses (please note that all fingerprints and hair samples will be removed from the winning swag to prevent malicious cloning of OFF CAMPUS staff).

So, fill in the "blank" correctly, or be the closest one to do so, and something that may or may not make you change your cola preference will be yours for FREE:

On Monday, August 8th, 2005, the number of hours of viewing in The Pile were XXX.

Don't wait to see Ice Cube as XXX on video, fill in our XXX for your chance to win a three pack of mystery movies that each have a 50% shot of being better. The lucky ducky will win a random grab from the pile, suitable for framing, viewing or for use as a cruelty-free clay pigeon substitute. Odds of winning based on total number of valid entries received, actual odds of winning - 50% - either you will or you won't.

Send entries (in a plain brown e-velope) to the pile. e-mail us your name and guess. Winners will be notified by e-mail, and asked to provide us with a mailing address for prize delivery. Your privacy, and keeping our deskspace clean, is important to us. We will not save, share, spindle or mutilate your personal information. One entry per house/email address please. Any attempts to "stuff the box" will result in (either) disqualification, or might prompt us to stuff your mailbox. Please keep your karma in balance, and your seats and trays in their upright position.

And the Franklin goes too...

2005-07-25T22:30:00.000-04:00

Taking a bit of a diversion with this one... going to kill two blogs with one stone this week, and give out our first web award. "The Franklin."

In the history of mankind many people have sought improvement in their daily lives. People who'll question what is, and take a shot at improving on the status quo. I'm not talking about the poor souls who re-invent the wheel on a regular basis because they can, but rather those who add pinstriping and pneumatic tires to make for a flashier, if not comfier ride.

Leonardo Da Vinci was one such man. Arguably one of the smartest men in history, this inventor brought Europe out of the Dark Ages with advances in both art and science. And then just a "couple" years later an inventor on this side of the pond, Benjamin Franklin, did the same for the new America.

Though Franklin had his triumphs - bifocals, newspapers, the library, the fire dept, daylight savings and a little thing called electricity - he had his misses too. Reworking the English language via a new alphabet among the biggies. Despite being more efficient and perhaps easier to learn, try as he might, he just couldn't get the colonies to adapt to relearning what they already knew.

Perhaps this resistance explains why we are still stuck with the inefficient QWERTY keyboard or why we're the last country to hold out on the switch to metric.

(and here's the brilliant segue...)

This brings me to the Franklinesque spirit shown by one Mr. Robert Dunstan. A furnituremaker in Wyoming who's challenging the Imperial (English) and Meric systems to give up their weaknesses, and combine their strengths into his new system. A system he humbly calls "The Bob." Dividing the ruler into 24 units instead of 16 (or 32). You can read all about it at Bobsrule.com and judge for yourself whether it was insight or courage that inspired the production and marketing of Bobsrule.

I for one, (tired of being firmly entrenched in the camp of the 5 feet, 7 inches 5/8 and a sixteenth) raise my kite to you!

It started out with pizza

2005-07-14T22:31:00.000-04:00

I was having a hankering for pizza the other night. Not just a craving, or a mere burning desire. I'm talking an out and out basic PRIMAL NEED. Luckily for me, the magic word of the day was DELIVERY, it was Saturday after all. I suppose in hindsight, I should have driven or walked to the nearest pizza joint, a short drive by car (or long drive, with a slight dogleg with my #1 wood), but I thought I couldn't get away from the house.

So I play a little yellow pages roulette and my finger lands on "Sylvia's House of Pizza and Discount Lumber". Haven't tried that one before. The ad (featuring a beaver holding a pizza cutter) mentions an "If our pizza doesn't burn your tongue by the time it gets to you, we'll burn your tongue free of charge at a later date!" deal, so I figure I'll take a chance and give them a call.

I'm greeted with "You want a pie or a cord?" I have to think about it for a moment, as hunger has so fully gripped me that the thought of eating reduced-priced wood is almost palatable. I go for a Bavarian Rounder instead. The ad said that this was their specialty, so, feeling adventurous, I order three (one to eat now, one to eat later, and one to file away as evidence).

I queued up a DVD, (The Meaning of Life, if you're keeping score) and went into the kitchen to grab something to drink. I put down an entire bottle of IBC and grabbed a second, when I noticed a raccoon on the bird feeder, just 3 feet from my face. An old, brittle window was all that protected me from potential eye-gouging and rabies. I didn't know whether to try to scare it off, or let it enjoy the all you could eat buffet. I banged on the glass, he looked at me, paused, and got right back to business. He was bigger than both my cats put together, and clearly not to be trifled with. I decided I'd leave him be. Besides, If I let him fill up on the oily black sunflower seeds, he wouldn't mug the pizza man, and make off with my dinner.

About 15 minutes later, I hear--no, make that FEEL--an unholy rumbling, coming from outside. I peek through the blinds and see a giant lumber-hauling 18-wheeler slowly making its way down our narrow dead-end street. It's hydraulic brakes spit out a rude exclamation and the behemoth comes to rest at the end of my driveway, blocking out any potential traffic on my street, as well as the sun. A sawdust-spritzed driver climbs down from the cab and makes his way up the driveway, carrying my gastronomic salvation.

"You order the pizza?" he asks.

I'm tempted to tell him no, I ordered a cord of butt logs, but in my weakened condition the best I can come up with is "Yeah."

We make the munch-to-moolah exchange and before I can ask about his beaver-shaped hat, he's back in the big rig, deftly backing it down the hill and onto the main road. I watch him all the way down, and never once do I see a 2x4 or anchovie fall out of the truck. He's good.

Okay, the pre-game is over. Now it's time to slay the beast, to crush the revolution, to....uh, eat. I pop the top and gaze at what has to be the most unique-looking pizza that has ever been delivered to me by a guy with a beaver hat in a lumber truck.

to be continued...

The Guinness Book of Records

2005-07-05T23:12:00.000-04:00

Kane MacSween of Kilarney bested Englishman Peter Dowdeswell's 1975 record, when he drank a yard of Guinness - (2 pints) in 4.9 sec. on Feb 12, 2005.

Seamus O'Malley managed to drink 19 pints and still made it home before sunrise!

Ned Devine of Tully Moor beat Om Prakash Singh's 1997 record when he remained motionless for 2 days, 23 hrs, 10 min and 17 secs on August 15–17, 1997. (He'd fallen asleep on the john after an evening of pints with the townsfolk.)

Fiona Dillon correctly recited the titles of James Joyce in chronological order after polishing off 4 pints in 3 minutes.

Fachnan Burke beat John Evans 1998 record by balaning 12 empty beer kegs on his head for 15 seconds. He'd emptied the kegs that evening (with a little help from the townsfolk).

Quintin O'Donovan sang Danny boy for 18 hours straight - he said he could have sung longer but he really needed a pint.

Brendan Malone bested Ashrita Furman's record when he balanced 76 pint glasses on his chin for 10.6 seconds outside a pub in 2003. He broke all the pubs glasses in future attempts to break his own record (and later prevent others from breaking his record).

Lugh O'Donovan Jr. Beat his old mans record of correctly spelling his name after 8 pints. Not bad for a 11 year old bonnie lad.

Cream Cracker Eating - Still considered the benchmark of record-breaking prowess. On October 29, 2002, at the London offices of Guinness World Records, Liam Campbell smashed the existing record by more than 10 seconds, chowing down on three crackers in just 39.15 seconds, and washed it down with a couple pints in 53.97 seconds. (Not a record, but refreshing none-the-less). How quickly can you YOU eat three Jacob's Cream Crackers?

A couple Guinness FAQ's:

Q: Guinness is high in vitamin G, isn't it?
A: The folklore surrounding Guinness has often lead to it being called vitamin G. Recommended Daily Allowance: 3 pints a day.

Q: What's the proper thing to say when someone {buys you a Guinness/ gives you a 4-pack of Draught-flow cans/gives you your own cask}?
A: Whale oil beef hooked! ;-)

Q: Is there a Guinness smiley/emoticon?
A: (:-{d) (licking the rich, creamy Guinness foam off the upper lip.)

What's your Irish Name?

Beat the Heat

2005-06-28T21:36:00.000-04:00

Are you forced to wait in the air-conditioned comfort of the office, grocery store or post office until the sun goes down and your car tires slowly unmeld from the parking lot? Are you afraid of rolling power outages because your neighbors seem to have at least 2 air conditioners running in each room? Are you tired of burning your hands on the steering wheel day after day after day? Did you get roped into a family gym membership just for the open swim?

Let us help you save money and time while you deal with the dog days, as we offer up these ways to the Beat the Heat:

With A Stick
With A Boat Oar
Cheat Codes
Ice Pants
Pretend you're sleeping, and when Heat isn't looking, hit it with a stun gun.
Tie its shoe laces together
Fill a small paper bag with dog poo, put in on Heat's front door landing, set it on fire, then ring the heat's door bell. When Heat opens the door to find the flaming bag of filth, it will naturally try to stomp out the flames, thus getting hot poo all over its shoes. This will not necessarilly BEAT the Heat, but it will certainly ruin its shoes, and therefore hurt its self-esteem.
Have the Ice Cream Man stop him when he's passing by
Sign it up for unwanted magazine subscriptions.
Lure it out to the driving range behind the country club, and break out your Big Bertha

The Last Comic

2005-06-20T23:38:00.000-04:00

A lot has happened in the past four months or so since I lost my magic sharpie and stopped the cartooning bit for the good folks over at 168. I've received countless letters, faxes, and notes via homing pigeon concerning the fate of the characters, quite literally being left in the dark. So, here for you today, I've dusted off the final comic of a three-part story arc exploring if life can go on without TV.

Rather than show you the end first, and then force you to wait countless nanoseconds (after clicking the "off campus comics archives" link) before reading the beginning - a la the Star Wars model, I present the entire story below... in sequence. (If you find you're eyes straining to read the dialogue, take a break to do some eye stretching, or click on one of the pictures to zoom.)

I particularly enjoyed the whole "Scooby Doo" look at the end.

Gentlemen start your (search) engines

2005-06-13T23:57:00.000-04:00

It has come to our attention (in looking at our reader statistics) that more than a few of our readers are getting here by accident. Not that we're complaining, mind you....we'll take the hits however we can get them. (Remember, for every hit we get, a marionette becomes a real boy.)

Below are some of the words and phrases* that individuals (or several people huddled around one computer) have entered into search engines, sending them to their ultimate reward here at Off Campus.

Ponytime
Rotunda envy
Arch McTence
Illegal Jarts
That thing with the scoopy handle that you used to toss a ball to your friend and made a clacky noise when you did it
Reno
Bojango Chicken
Telephony
Whistle while you weld
Tint
Bolo Yeung
My First Epiphany Playset
Fluff
Lockjaw
Na Na Na Na, Hey Hey, Kiss Him, He's Lithuanian
Sludge 'n' Fizz
Arctic Apache Federation of South Florida, LLC
Amber Tamblyn
Schmoo Fever -- CATCH IT!
Dick Butkus
Women who love men and the men who love them
Switchblade fife
Feline diseases spreadable to humans
Home cold remedies with Olestra
Boboli preservatives
Wayward nerf collectors
How to size up someone without looking directly at them
Snout theory
Jiffy Pop house fires
Military history of the cheetah
Full-contact checkers tips
The history of Bob Barker's Hair
Hot, hairy Buffalo folk dances for Protestant teens
Dudesterless Fungi Ifkiff Manwaukee Immortality Rays vs. The Desperado Farm Team: Maple Avenue School Playground Catchphrases in the 1980's (ashcan edition)
Celebrity reality shows featuring a lemur
Baby wipes
Munchatation
Leonard Melt
1-800-FAKE-NUMBER
Hair care for the deaf
Chocolate rain

But don't take our word for it, give it a try yourself and let us know some of the more bizzarre searches that lead you here.

* Please note that some of these items may no longer appear in our archives, either due to revisions or threats of legal action.

There's chocolate in my peanut butter

2005-06-05T22:16:00.000-04:00

Just a wee little bit of cross-blog promo: The search for the ultimate peanut butter sandwich.

Leather, PVC and Pyrotechnics!

2005-06-03T18:13:00.000-04:00

Kicking off their North American Tour, It's The Blue Man Group meets Kiss (well, just Gene Simmons)...
Ladies and Gentlemen, THE BLUE GENES!

Mime it out loud!

Off Campus Guide to THE SUMMER MOVIE!!

2005-05-28T00:02:00.000-04:00

This summer, all the major Hollywood studios have, in an unprecedented effort to ward off slipping theater attendance (whether it be the result of illegal - though really fun - downloading, or the ongoing popularity of cliff diving), banded together to present audiences with THE SUMMER MOVIE, one huge, star-studded, all-encompassing tale to rivet your tail to the seat hour after hour, dollar after dollar, Raisinette after Raisinette.

To prevent theater crowding and reduce gluteas soreicus, this film will be split up into two-hour installments and will be released under a variety of titles. They've managed to assemble an amazing cast for this film, and it's combined budget exceeds [Figure unavailable at press time, but believe us, it's HUGE. We're talking at least, like, ten zeros at the end.] Several directors, including George Lucas, George Romero, Tim Burton, and others who were paid far less leant their creative visions to the project, which will no doubt go down in history as the most ambitious, if not the longest, action/drama/romance/sci-fi/softcore/western/
period/horror/documentary/snuff film of all time.

Off Campus has the exclusive scoop on the plot of what's being called THE SUMMER MOVIE by those "in the know." We're not "in the know," but we know someone who is, so if you tell anyone about this, you can say the details came from someone you know who knows someone in the know.

The story goes a little something like this....

Will Ferrell is an ineffectual man trying to coach a rag-tag kiddie soccer team to victory; while teaching them the value of self-respect and honor, and learns a little something himself. Across town, Billy Bob Thornton is an inebriated man trying to coach a rag-tag kiddie baseball team to victory; while teaching them the value of self-respect and honor, and learns a little something himself. Meanwhile, at the local prison yard, Adam Sandler is an incarcerated man trying to coach a rag-tag convict football team to victory; while teaching them the value of self-respect and honor, and learns a little something himself. The story flashes back at one point to focus on Russell Crowe as a punch-drunk boxer who brings a nation closer together in a time of national funk. While knocked out by a foe's heavy blow, he flashes back and dreams about Orlando Bloom wielding a sword and crusading in Jerusalem, who, while knocked unconscious by a foe's heavy truncheon, hallucinates about a longer time ago, in a galaxy farther away, where Darth Vader gets a helmet and a bad attitude. Meanwhile, back in the present day, Jet Li struggles as a man raised like an animal, trained to fight to the death. Little does he know that zombies are running rampant in Pittsburgh (or is it Toronto?), while Tom Cruise and his weepy-creepy daughter dodge Martian Destruco-rays. This monster-laden armageddon doesn't seem to bother the Duke boys, two back-woods brothers racing their souped-up Charger through the back roads of rural America, knowing that someday the mountain might get 'em but the law never will. Somehow, their actions go unnoticed by Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, two married spies who know they're married, but don't know they're spies, that is, they don't know that each other are spies. They're apparently too busy investigating each other's briefs to notice Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson crashing weddings to scoop up the free food and babes (a misdemeanor in some states, and just very bad manners in others). These freeloaders luckily manage to avoid Jennifer Lopez, whose married bliss is threatened by her nasty maw-in-law whose acidic demeanor is the result of an unfortunate photo opportunity a few decades earlier in another country. She's in dire need of help... unfortunately Bruce Wayne is busy traveling to the ends of the earth to learn the ways of martial arts and two-fisted detective work from a guy who may have once been either a Jedi or Dark Man.

Please understand that these segments of the film can all be viewed separately in any order, but to fully appreciate how the parts fit together to form a cohesive whole, it's important to watch them in the correct order, which may or may not correspond to the order in which they are released. To ascertain the correct running order of THE SUMMER MOVIE, you need to look at the MPAA production code number at the very end of each film's credits. We realize that in order to do this, you must first sit through the entire film. Cynics have insinuated that this is by design, so that audiences interesting in seeing THE SUMMER MOVIE in sequence will see all of its parts once, take diligent notes, then go back and RE-SEE the film in it's proper order, thus assuring double the box office.

This is, of course not being done for monetary reasons on the part of the studios, but to bring the fun and magic of moviegoing to a new generation.

Really. They swear.

The Final Star Wars Post (#3): opening night

2005-05-22T22:21:00.000-04:00

My STAR WARS III Diary

For this, what is purported to be the last theatrical film in the STAR WARS saga, two of my pals and I decided to do it in style, attending a midnight screening at a mammoth AMC Theatre multi-plex in Framingham, MA on the outskirts of Boston. The very same theater where we joined the frenzied crowds for the reissues of the original films (or as I like to think of them, the "real" STAR WARS movies), as well as THE PHANTOM MENACE, several years earlier. I snagged tickets online in advance, and present for you here a look inside the journey that spans 25 years of action figures, pillow cases, breakfast cereals, and three out of five great movies.

---------------------

Wednesday, May 18th, 2005
7:15 am
Wake up from a dream about going to see REVENGE OF THE SITH and having HERBIE GOES TO MONTE CARLO screened in its place. The light sabers that audience members have with them suddenly turn real, and they slice the screen to ribbons.

45 minutes before my alarm will go off, and a little less than 16 hours until I see the final STAR WARS film. Need to try to get whatever sleep I can to charge up for the day ahead of me.

7:58 am
Wake up two minutes before the alarm goes off, and stare woozily at the numbers until they say "8:00". The radio comes on, and I'm greeted with "Love Shack". Time to shower, shave, and shovel in a frozen waffle or two before work. I've pulled my vintage Luke Skywalker "X-Wing Pilot" Underoos out of storage, and attempt to put them on. The t-shirt is more or less a dickey now, and the underwear basically explode when I get them on. That does a lot for my male ego, but little for their future eBay worth. I scrap the idea of nostalgic clothing and go with the Scooby-Doo boxers. Too much information? Tough. This is a diary. Looking forward to sneaking in a nap at some point in advance of the long night.
16 hours until I see the final STAR WARS film.

3:30 pm
Well, the work-day has turned out far busier than I'd hoped or expected. What I thought would be a mostly-uneventful day has turned out to be a week's-worth of activities packed into not-yet-eight hours. Great. So much for that nap. I'm driving to the theater tonight (2 hours and 14 minutes from home), so sleeping on the way is out, too. It's gonna be a looong day.
8.5 hours until I see the final STAR WARS film.

4:30pm
I'm at work alone today, and manage to use my wily, coyote-like skills to lock up a half-hour early, fight my way across end-of-day traffic in town, and pick up my co-pilot Tim for our trip to the theater. I've decided to forego dressing up as my favorite character, "Luke in the water tank" from THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, as time, finances, and breath control (not to mention the lack of a minivan to carry the man-sized tube of witch hazel to the theater) prevented me from getting the whole thing together in time (though I do predict that my Reed Richards/Mr. Fantastic costume, complete with 4-foot arms made of those bendy pool-toy tube thingies, will be ready in time for THE FANTASTIC FOUR's July premiere).
7.5 hours until I see the final STAR WARS film.

5:45pm
On the road, our listening of The Star Wars Christmas Album is followed by Tim and I getting into an argument about the greatest STAR WARS-related food product of all time. I say STAR WARS Cookies (circa 1982), he claims "Dark Side of the Force" M&M's. As STAR WARS Cookies can't be found for comparison, we call it a draw.
6.25 hours until I see the final STAR WARS film.

6:30 pm
Somewhere in Massachusetts, we pass some STAR WARS fans whose car has broken down. They're on the side of the road, their back window proclaiming "SITH OR BUST" written in soap. Am I hallucinating? Did I really just see Darth Vader and five Jawas thumb-tripping on the side of the road?
This is madness.
5.5 hours until I see the new STAR WARS film.

7:15 pm
After weaving our way through downtown Framingham at rush hour, we pick up the third member of our alliance, Matt, at the train station. Just in from Boston, he's ready to rumble, as are all of our stomachs. Time to find food, and lots of it. As we still have, oh....4.75 HOURS to kill until showtime, we figure we'll find somewhere to sit down, take our time, and consume a potentially lethal amount of caffeine.
As I just said, 4.75 hours until I see the final STAR WARS film.

7:30pm
Why do I hate driving in and around Boston? Because if you, say, miss a turn, it might be 10 miles or so before you can find a place to turn around on a divided highway. That is, if the lane you're in suddenly doesn't become "turn only" and jettison you out into some farther-reaching suburb on an unmarked rural route. I have no idea when we'll be able to simply turn around and go back to the restaurant we saw several miles ago. We console ourselves with the fact that the screening is still a few hours away, we've already bought our tickets, and we had time to kill anyway. I could swear that I just saw Darth Maul pumping gas. Hunger hallucinations are definitely kicking in.
4.5 hours until I see the final STAR WARS film.

8:30pm
Finally we sit down to eat at Bugaboo Creek. Kind of an Outback Steakhouse, minus the Australian theme and substituting a Canadian one. Feels like you've been shrunken down, Dr. Shrinker-style, and are eating in Paul Bunyan's summer home. Toss in the hallucinatory effects of talking moose and buffalo heads, and more food on your plate than you could fit in a gym locker, and you've got yourself the perfect place to kill a few hours before seeing the final film in a series that once featured a garbage monster. We eat our fill, and then some. I've had so many re-fills on my Coke that I think I can hear my veins humming. The boys have broken into a fierce chicken-and-caffeine-fuelled argument about the eventual outcome of a fight between Grand Moff Tarkin and Salacious Crumb. I tell them that they weren't meant to think about such things, but words and actions escalate until they're both trying to psychically choke each other. Luckily this amounts to little more than a staring contest, and other patrons are quitely amused. I excuse myself and visit the restroom to, uh....rest my, um....pressures. We manage to kill a good amount of time at Bugaboo, and head over to the nearby theater at 10:00pm.
2 hours until I see the final STAR WARS film.

10:15pm
So that took forever. Again, genius traffic design threw us like a slingshot away from the theater, which, as the crow flies, is probably a quarter of a mile from where we just ate. We ultimately do make it to the parking lot, surprised to find a good space so close to the front. When we saw the reissues and THE PHANTOM MENACE here, the lot was full and the theater had a shuttle bus running to auxiliary lots, bringing patrons to the front door. We enter the pre-lobby to find it also rather mellow. Short lines and only a few people in costume (Obi-Wan seems to be the favorite of the REVENGE OF THE SITH costumed movie-goer--far fewer "Leia-as-slave-girl"s than we had hoped for). I skip to the Automated Box Office (literally--I'm excited, what can I say?) and in a flash I have our tickets. We enter the main lobby, again find far fewer people than before. Can this be possible? The electronic marquee shows REVENGE OF THE SITH on NINE SCREENS, all sold out. Where is everybody? We search the lobby for signs of fandom gone wrong, but there are no impromptu half-ass lightsaber battles as before, nobody in tuxedos like when we saw the first STAR WARS Special Edition (when asked why he was in formal attire, the gentleman in question replied "HELLO?!? It's STAR WARS!!").....just a few people in line for $4 bottles of soda and $6 bags of popcorn. Then we noticed it. People were going into the theater already!! Almost two hours before showtime and they're letting people in??? We quickly skipped (we were all excited at this point) to the ticket-tearer, who informed us that yes, we could have a seat now if we wanted to. Fearful that all of the good seats had been taken, we entered quickly. To our surprise, the theater was still only half-full. We grabbed three rather prime seats in the middle and, well, sat there.
What else was there to do?
1.75 hours until I see the final STAR WARS film.

11:00pm
Country. Why did it have to be country?
The pre-show "entertainment" provided to us by AMC Theatres was the usual series of plugs for films now and coming soon, local businesses, and albums in current release. We didn't really pay any attention to this (does anyone, really?), but instead chose to focus on the other members of the audience. We only spotted one Ben Kenobi in our auditorium, and sadly no Taun-Tauns. People to our left had their laptop out, watching ATTACK OF THE CLONES as a last-minute refresher before the final chapter would unspool in front of their eyes in a matter of dozens of minutes. Someone else was doing likewise a few rows in front of us, but they were watching ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN which, when you get down to it, is a funnier film than ATTACK OF THE CLONES was.
1 hour until I see the new STAR WARS film.

11:30pm
The theater is starting to fill up more now. One by one, we leave the auditorium to grab any provisions we might need to help us through the 2.5-hour epic to come, and to alleviate any biological tension brought about by the Bugaboo experience. (Note to the Bugaboo Creek corporation: you really should call your drink menu "Bugabooze".) I use my trip out to grab some more junk food to hop me up and keep my eyes open. After careful calculation of the dietary benefits of what AMC Theaters has made available to me, and mental balancing of my checkbook, I decide that I can afford (dietarily and financially) to go with the Medium Coke ($3.75) and small popcorn ($3.50 and still enough to choke a horse). They're almost more than I can carry back to my seat. I forget sometimes that in the parlance of Movie Concession Speak, "Small" means "Large", "Medium" means "Huge", and "Large" means "Suicide".
30 minutes until I see the final STAR WARS film.

Thursday, May 19th, 2005
12:02 am
The film is supposed to start now. Is something wrong? Did they not get enough prints? Is the projector jammed? Is this another bad dream? Just as a few light saber-clad teen warriors start to ferment the seeds of their own rebellion, the lights dim and a cheer rises like none I've heard since the last time someone dropped a tray in the school cafeteria. Then the previews start and we're overtaken by the dark side of silence. After several trailers for upcoming summer blockbusters (or so the studios hope), that twinkly Lucasfilm logo magically appears and the place goes nuts. Just as everyones palms and vocal chords were about to give out, the STAR WARS logo blasts onto the screen and the aural apocalypse gets LOUDER.
Then everyone shuts up and watches the movie.
I am now seeing the final STAR WARS film.

3:00am
We emerge from the theater, having seen the final STAR WARS film (did I mention that REVENGE OF THE SITH is the final STAR WARS film?) I joke that we'll enter the lobby to find every broken out into discussion groups, as well as the largest bathroom line we've ever seen. I'm half right. The bathroom line iss medium-sized. The discussion groups are in full, passionate swing, however. As we leave the theater, I wonder how long the place will give the debaters and dissectors before they usher them out into the cold, damp darkness of the parking lot to face a life without any more STAR WARS movies. We sit in the car, comparing notes and looking at a sea of headlights and taillights that looked not unlike the starship battles we'd witnessed over the last two-plus hours, with slightly fewer explosions and screaming droids (but only slightly fewer).
5 hours until my alarm goes off.

3:20am
We pull slowly out of the parking lot and head into Boston to drop Matt off at his apartment.
4 hours and 40 minutes until my alarm goes off.

3:45am
Tim and I bid Matt a good night and head home to glorious New Hampshire. I take a wrong turn and we get lost.
4.25 hours until my alarm goes off.

4:20 am
I stumble upon the route home that I know. We start to notice the sky getting....lighter. We realize that the sun is coming up.
Great.
3 hours and 40 minutes until my alarm goes off.

5:00am
The sun is bright and strong now, and we really, really just want to be home. Has our town been moved farther away from Boston since we've been gone? Then the CD player refuses to eject a CD and gives the playable surface a nice new cross-hatching texture.
3 hours until my alarm goes off.

5:30am
I stumble through the door in a daze and fall into bed.
2.5 hours until my alarm goes off.

8:00am
My alarm goes off.
Didn't I just get up 24 hours ago? I gotta do it again? Without a new STAR WARS movie to look forward to? Ever? Screw that. I hit the snooze and dream about STAR WARS Cookies and Underoos that fit.

Star Wars Episode III - special early review

2005-05-17T00:02:00.000-04:00

Last November I had the good fortune of being invited to Skywalker Ranch to screen an early rough cut of the most anticipated movie in a generation. This movie had me speechless. Speechless with delight, and speechless because I had to promise not to publish anything until the movie actually opens. Six months down, 24 hours left to wait... I almost made it. Warning! Spoilers ahead.

Star Wars III, the Sith - Review of an early production print.... Nov. 19, 2004

Let me tell you that all the hype is peanuts compared to what happens. This movie is HUGE. EPIC. No. It's BIGGER than that. Being the last in a group of prequels I was shocked with how the plot developed.

Going in, we all knew that Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi would survive, and since Mace Windu wasn't in the original movies, that he was likely a goner. Since both Darth Maul and Qui-Gon Jinn were killed in the first movie, we knew we wouldn't be seeing them at all, unless in a flash back or something.

I found the new musical format disconcerting at first, but like Rent, Grease or West Side story it really helped with the narration and served to move the plot along.

Yoda, you will be sad to hear, doesn't make it. I know you remember seeing him in the origional movies, but they are being re-edited to match the new story line on DVD. Though the scenes on Dagobah will be weird with Luke learning the force from nobody.

Darth Maul and Qui-Gon Jinn are both accidentally resurrected during a freak lighthing storm that takes Obi-Wans life. His body lives, but with the eternal struggle of his Jedi Master, and a Sith Lord fighting in his mind. This clearly explains why he gives up his life to Vader in part IV.

Andrew Lloyd Webber takes over the reins for John Williams (who was busy writing and rewriting the score to the upcoming Indiana Jones installment), and is also adapting the series into a musical. Tatooine - A modern Phantom of the Empire meets Miss Siagaan-Naboo.

All in all Palpatine gives the most memorable, powerful performance, delivering the song "Now I lay you down to sleep." Destined to win the Oscar for best original song... It will make you cry, or turn to the dark side over the loss of your secret wife - giving up her life, so that she may be reincarnated as her daughter with bad hair. Clone wars'll have nothing on that.

Sweeping musical dance numbers, fantastic special effects, and just wait for part 3 and 1/2! Can you say Cliffhanger?

...and even more pre-Star Wars progamming

2005-05-16T23:10:00.000-04:00

Are you getting sick of all of the inappropriate and thinly-veiled TV programming that exists solely to advertise the film, despite the intentions they wave to the contrary. Looking through this week's TV GUIDE, the "educational" cable channels, are running hour-long shows devoted to the "science", "gear", and "animals" of STAR WARS, and some channels you wouldn't expect have even more far-reaching connections to attach their channel's theme to the saga.

STAR WARS programming this week: (check your local listings for show times)

ABC: 20/20
Barbara Walters sits down for a probing interview with R5D4, who reveals the hardships it has had to live with, forever being mistaken for the nearly-identical R2D2, and how it has struggled to maintain it's own identity and career path in the face of overwhelming obscurity. In the second half, Kenny Baker on anonymity and the pressure of helping Artoo keep the universe intact.

CBS: Late Show with David Letterman.
Star Wars Top 10, Stupid Jedi tricks, Biff's trip to Skywalker Ranch, and friend of the program, Samuel L. Jackson fills in as host as none other than Jedi Master Mace Windu.

NBC: The Apprentice, Finale
For this year's finale, the hair helmet steps aside for the dark helmet, as Darth Vader makes the final decision as to who will rule by his side. The loser is not only fired, but also choked psychically in front of the nation.

Court TV
Legal experts give a play-by-play analysis of the Imperial Senate scenes from PHANTOM MENACE and ATTACK OF THE CLONES, pointing out the legal and precedent-setting ramifications of allowing Wookies to vote.

Bloomberg TV
How would an intergalactic rebellion affect barley futures? Experts discuss the possible outcomes, illustrated with clips of REVENGE OF THE SITH.

The History Channel: History vs Hollywood -
STAR WARS. Historians work to ascertain whether the events of STAR WARS I-VI did indeed occur a long time ago (just how long?) in a galaxy far, far away (how far?).

Comedy Central: Crank Yankers
The usual gang tries prank-calling Darth Vader, and the laughs turn to shock when the Dark Lord of the Sith is not amused, and proceeds to psychically choke the puppet mocketeers to death over the phone. Then Yoda tries his three-fingered hand at prank calling various members of the Empire, only to be foiled again and again, as his unmistakeable backwards-talk doesn't fool anyone.

MTV: THE PHANTOM MENACE: TOTALLY OBSCURED
Special airing of EPISODE I, reduced to postage-stamp size on the TV screen and surrounded by live internet chat text about how hot Hayden Christensen is and the different ways in which people would like to see Jar Jar meet a gruesome end.

Food TV: Inside Dish with Rachel Ray
BoJango, Temuera Morrison's New California Cuisine Restaurant w/a Maori twist, his Blackberry suprise plus some favorite recipes from the Star Wars set; Grand Moff Tarkin's Great Tart Muffins and a visit to Hammer-Head's "Get Hammered" Ale House

...and coming soon to DVD

THE STAR WARS HOLIDAY SPECIAL: THE "REALLY GOOD THIS TIME" EDITION
A new, revised edition of THE STAR WARS HOLIDAY SPECIAL from 1978, with all characters, sets, and props digitally enhanced to remove all traces of the original program's content. As an added bonus, an alternate audio commentary by one of the world's leading hypnotists will cause you to forget the original ever existed, and make you believe forevermore that this new edition is all there ever was. The show's musical numbers have also been updated, featuring a special collaboration between John Williams and Linkin Park, as well as an all-new rap version of the classic "Imperial March Theme", which sets the stage for a climactic body-popping contest between Darth Vader and Lobot.

Something about Fluff

2005-05-09T23:10:00.000-04:00

There's just something about Marshmallow Fluff. I can't quite put my finger on it.....

Is it the way it jiggles in the jar, when it's been left in the dark too long?

Is it the fact that it doesn' occur by itself in nature, but is the product of cold fusion and the dreams of blind turtles (plus a secret ingredient that's rumored to be moon rocks, but probably isn't)?

Everyone has their own opinion of Fluff, from "I loved it as a kid" to "It makes me sick" to "It's a fine sexual aid", but me, well, I fear the stuff.

That's right. I fear Fluff.

Why, you may ask, would I fear a jolly, fun-filled sandwich spread? Well, this goes back a long way with me. All the way back to Vietnam.

Okay, maybe not that far back, but at least back to my childhood, which could be considered to border on the tail-end of the Vietnam Era. (So there.)

I've always been a lover of peanut butter & jelly sandwiches (I refuse to resort to the oft-used abbreviation "PB&J" it makes this iconic staple of the young American lunch sound like a late-sixties folk supergroup), and the first time I ever heard about Fluff was at a friend's house in grade school. I saw a jar of the stuff and asked him what it was, and was quietly horrified to learn that his mother made him sandwiches that contained liquefied marshmallows in them!

Jesus!

I've never been a big fan of marshmallow as a food or as an adhesive for as long as I can remember. Even at that young age (which will remain undocumented for legal reasons), I knew that spreadable, pourable marshmallow was wrong. I view this wrongness in the same way that some would view drinkable meat. I mean, if there were such a thing, I'd think it was pretty gross. Wouldn't even try it.

Beyond the wrongness of the idea, the consistency bothers me. Not quite a thick liquid, but not quite as thick as peanut butter, either. All I can think of when I see it is how everything would stick to your face and fingers after you ate it. Food, bits of napkin, wood shavings, whatever happened to come in contact with the sticky Fluff residue would have to be removed with a combination of horseradish and Pine-Sol. For some reason, as unlikely as it would be to occur, I always feared that if I ate Fluff, it would somehow get in my hair, which would become so sticky and tangled that I'd have to get my head shaved, and the other kids would make Hari Krishna jokes and hit me with rulers until I sang "Mr. Bojangles" for them and whistled through my teeth. Does a kid need this kind of aggravation?

No, by Humphrey!

Some little-know facts about Fluff that I made up to support my point:

- There has never been a documented case of Fluff saving someone's life.

- Four out of five dentists refuse to use Fluff as a "rinse" option.

- When the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man explodes at the end of Ghostbusters, Fluff is seen to be splashing everywhere. Would YOU want your child to eat the same goo that flows through the veins of a giant evil candy monster sent from Hell to destroy all of mankind? I didn't think so.

- You could drown in a vat of Fluff.

- A steady diet of Fluff can lead to uncontrollable chortling fits.

- Hitler liked fluff. A lot.

Well, I hope this little excercise in admission serves to help others who also fear Fluff. My fellow non-Fluffers, hold your head up high the next time you pass that disturbingly white jar in the grocery aisle! Shield your eyes no more! Look that jar in the white of its....jar....and let it know that you are forever free of the shame and uneasiness that it once brought you. You're Fluff-free and proud!

Next up: How that peanut butter/jelly striped thing in a jar leads to Communism.

Work shoppin' advice

2005-05-03T22:07:00.000-04:00

Pressed for time, and unable to find the right tool for the job, one must occasionally improvise. This is true in the classroom, the workshop or broken down on the side of the road. With so much of our lives becoming digitized, unless a fix can be downloaded off the Internet, we're becoming clueless around the workshop. We're not longer mechanical MacGyvers that our fathers and grandfathers used to be. Had to be - building and maintaining their homes, cars and whatever other excuse kept them in the garage on "Jell-O Salad" night. We have got to exercise this gene, lest we lose it to some living history museum devoted to the ingenuity of the all around handyman and jerry-rigger.

So with that in mind, a wobbly chair to fix, and too little experience behind ourselves, we set out to see what we could "fix."

After half an afternoon rummaging through the house, breaking a couple of dad’s tools and nearly breaking a sweat, we've learned the following about substitutes for a saw and drill:

A toothbrush will indent wood.

A Snickers will not cut wood.

Wood will not cut wood.

A meat thermometer will scratch wood.

A hollow-point bullet will cause trouble.

Out of the mouth of babes...

2005-04-28T20:34:00.000-04:00

...does always come truth.

The President was on TV tonight. The occasional bane of Thursday night programming, and for once the highlight of my day. My daughter, who's two, saw President Bush, pointed at him and frantically said "Don't want this, don't want this!" So we switched over to Toy Story, and all had a much happier evening.

I should become a Luddite

2005-04-14T21:08:00.000-04:00

Luddites of the world, you're not reading this!

I might have to trade in my desktop for an etch a sketch, or perhaps start a new life and work as a furniture maker or blacksmith in some historical re-enactment village. I could eke out a happy living putting together some simple, useful furniture. Forget all this computer and modern machinery nonsense. Just me, a saw, chisels, a mallet and my iPod, creating nice colonial reproduction furniture together. I can bring my iPod with me, right?

A tribute

2005-04-07T21:13:00.000-04:00

We're taking a moment to pay tribute to those who've given their shoes for the greater good. Those who feel the need to relinquish footly goods so that others might make forts out of them. We here at OC are doing a little to give back as well. For every hit our blog receives, we will think about shoes for a little while. While this may not directly affect anyone or anything, we're taking approach that indeed it's the thought that counts.

Little Billy and The River of No Return

2005-03-22T19:57:00.000-05:00

One day Little Billy decided to go to throw some leaves in the river. He'd been warned by Old Man Ploot that the river's current was strong and not to get too close, so he approached with caution.

The river was raging that day (Wednesday the 27th), making a sound not unlike a really, really loud river. Billy had gathered the bestest leaves he could find, nice and charcoaly, which he carried in a big fireman's hat. He made sure not to drop any, lest they be raked up in a whirlwind by Steamy Dan, the Leaf-Raking man. With a name like that, you'd think Dan ran a business, but he didn't. He just liked raking leaves. A LOT. So much so that the neighborhood mothers made it a special point to tell their children to stay far away from Dan. Very far away.

Little Billy held the hat of leaves close to his chest as he edged ever closer to the river's orange waters. The kids all thought it looked like a river of Kool-Aid, and Yongary Mitchell once scooped up and drank a cup of it. The doctors said that what he drank was filled with carsono....syan....soowi.....some bad stuff. Yongary kinda acted weird after that, and couldn't play with the other kids on nights when there was a full moon.

The waters of the river were moving so fast that they almost looked like a really fast-moving river. Billy took a whiff of its plasticy smell and grew ever more excited about chucking the leaves into the shiny current. He took off his helmet (mother always insisted that he wear his father's leather 1931 football helmet when went out to play, as he was prone to getting accidentally stabbed in the head if he
didn't) and handed it to his invisible friend Gregory Von Haww, who clumsily dropped it on the ground (Gregory was very clumsy, and never could manage to hold onto anything, though he was good at keeping secrets and accepting blame). Little Billy thought for a moment that he could actually TASTE the river, he was so close to it now, but it turned out that it was just the remnants of a baloney sanwich stuck between his teeth.

He took the helmet of leaves and started spinning around and around in circles near the edge of the river, like those guys he saw on the Olympic show with the big balls (attached to chains). As he spun round and round, the world started to blur, and his balance went all to hooey. Just when he thought he couldn't spin any faster, he heaved the helmet full of perfect, charcoaly leaves into the river.

The problem with Little Billy was that, to be polite, he was kind of a dummy. You see, when he hurled that shiny red helmet of leaves into the river, he neglected to let go of it, plunging into the raging, swirling, tangy waters. Nobody ever saw Little Billy again, because, you see, this was....

THE RIVER OF NO RETURN.

The moral of this story: don't trust imaginary friends to dive in and save you.

Where's my Sharpie?

2005-03-14T20:24:00.000-05:00

Where's my Sharpie? Have you seen my Sharpie? My special, magical Sharpie? This is the question I'm asking people. This is the question I'm obsessed with. This is the actual reason I'm not drawing the strip right now, and this is the reply I've sent to the elevens of people who wrote in asking why I'm really taking a break from the strip:

Dear kind sir or madam (circle one)

Thank you for your recent inquiry as to what's going on in the now presently unanimated world of OC. You see, I can't find my Sharpie. My special, magical, bottomless well of comic inspiration housed in plastic with a black felt tip. Why can't I just go down to the art supply store or use one of the myriad other drawing implements at the drawing board? Well, I'll tell you.

Back in 1994 I had the pleasure of interviewing one Mr. Steven Wright, king of the monotone one-liner (this is completely true - I have witnesses and video evidence). He is a shorter man than you'd expect, but large in comedic talent. I also have in my possession an autographed head shot of him from that encounter. I also have, or had, the Sharpie he used to sign it.

Back on that fateful evening, I didn't feel the earth shift. I didn't know that his great talent could be channeled into an inanimate device. I just didn't know what I inherited - a magical device that seemed to tap into the collective unconscious, possibly even the raw power of the greatest comedic minds of all time. One doesn't just draw with this Sharpie, you simply watch with wonder as it channels pure comedic brilliance onto the page. It moved me to create pure comic gold for the world to enjoy. I felt honored and privileged to bring this joy to the masses, and I was afraid it wouldn't last, but even after 10 years it never dried up, its inkwell sprung eternal. Until now.

Now it is gone, and I'm lost without it. Sure I've learned a little about being funny along the way, and can pass the time spinning the written word, following in the footsteps of a poor man’s rendition of Steve Martin, Woody Allen or Douglas Adams. A Bill Watterson, Gary Larson or Berkley Breathed wannabe no more. It is a sad day for those without the attention span to read even half this far. Those poor busy souls that need everything spelled and drawn out for them to see, lest they miss it in their busy, busy (or distracted) lives.

So, if you've seen my Sharpie, please do me, the world of comedy, humanity in general (but mostly me) the biggest favor I can think of and bring it back home. Otherwise I'll have to get on with all those chores I've been putting off. The house is a mess from a month’s worth of frantic searching and my wife's getting pissed.

No KISS in there?

2005-03-07T20:23:00.000-05:00

The Greatest Hits of KISS, if they were afraid of public restrooms:

DETROIT ROCK CITY (Has Dirty Bathrooms So We Hold It)

ROCK AND ROLL OF YOUR OWN SCENTED TOILET PAPER (To Use on the Potty Every Day)

BETH (Likes the Lid Down)

I WAS MADE FOR LOVING YOU (And your Bidet)

COLD GIN (Makes Me Have to Pee all the Time)

HARD LUCK WOMAN (You Had To Go And Didn't Bring a Dime)

HOOLIGAN (Put A Cherry Bomb in the Toilet)

MAKIN' LOVE (Won't Happen in Here, it's Icky)

GOD OF THUNDER (Must Be in the Stall Next to Me)

SHOUT IT OUT LOUD (If You're Really Constipated, 'Cuz it Hurts)

I STOLE YOUR LOVE (And your Last Roll of Charmin)

(Seems like) 100,000 YEARS (Waiting in Line)

TURN ON THE NIGHT (Light)

KING OF THE NIGHT TIME WORLD (Spends all His Time on the Throne)

(I've been on the John) FOREVER

CHRISTINE SIXTEEN (Rolls of T.P. Aughtta be Enough)

Donuts, the hole truth.

2005-03-01T23:12:00.000-05:00

Alright! Dunkin Donuts now takes credit cards! What a sorry state, as Americans, we’ve devolved to, that we need to fork over our Discover card to pick up a #2 – Oooh… cash back for all the munchkins I've scarfed!

Convenience? Yes, its slightly more convenient. I don't have to stop at the ATM (approx 1 mile from my house) before I pick up a medium regular and a Boston creme (approx .25 miles from the ATM). Why would I waste time going thru the drive-thru twice, or worse have to park and get out of the car, (again – twice), when I can heed the call of the snooze alarm, flash my plastic, save a stop and a whole minute off my morning routine.

It seems I’ll save money as well as time. (Warning, run-on sentence ahead. Stay focused.) I can drive past the 3 or 4 ATMs provided by my own bank, (or pocket the 1.50 service charge I’d get nailed with if I had to stop at one of a myriad other banks between my house and the office), en route to, not one, not two, but count them, 12 Dunkin Donuts along the mere 22 mile drive. A buck-fifty saved off a foreign ATM fee, and the time and gas I save from not starting and stopping the car at the bank means a free breakfast right? No. I’ll have to give the good folks at Mastercard a nice 18% on top of my breakfast (and second breakfast) for the privilege of their card taking up space in my wallet – you know the thing that used to hold cash.

“Hold on a second, twelve?” you ask. “A dozen donut shops? That can’t be right, surely you jest.” Well, ok, I’d have to bang a U-y to hit one, so I’d be retracing my steps for a block or two, but yes, there are 12 on the way, plus a few more I could hit with detours. Mapquest counts 78 less than 25 miles from my front door.

OK, there's lots of numbers so far, let me simplify this holesome math equation: 22miles/25mpg(12stops) x 1.50-(DD x 0.18interest)=700cal per mile or approx 13lbs gained each year. Ouch.

Good news though – 2 new Dunkin Donuts just opened up, (about a mile apart from each other, not even a mile from a relatively new location, and not 10 minutes drive from not one, not 2, but 3 others (albeit older establishments) in the other direction). These 2 aren’t on Mapquests list yet, but they’re on mine. Bringing me ever closer to Dunkin Donuts central. Connect the dots on a map and you’ll get a pentagram – frosted, with sprinkles. So I'll be able to pick up the freshest at each and can put together a nice fresh, warm dozen, and have enough caffeine to get me through the year – wide awake, which is good since I’ll be in the bathroom. Plus, points I accumulate on the credit card can be redeemed for travel mugs!

I suppose, being in DD central, I could hang up the car keys and walk to get my dozen, one at a time. Would take me at least a couple extra minutes, and burn off half a box of munchkins in the process… Donuts and coffee can be part of a healthy morning regime afterall!

Back to the commuter front, if I ever get bored, there are 2 other donut establishments on my drive in that I can stop at if I ever want to mix it up and try a mom and pops and/or a smaller chains version of the tasty round breakfast staple… Now I can only wonder, when will Krispy Kreme come to the area to further increase my options?

The Butt Game - Oscar edition

2005-02-26T08:59:00.000-05:00

In the spirit of the Oscar Season, we at Off Campus wish to extend our wornest regards to the nominees for the various, uh, things, that they're nominated for. We can't say that we've seen much of the work of the artists who are up for awards this year, but would like to pay tribute to them in the least intelligent way we know how, by immoralizing them in another round of THE BUTT GAME.

Good Luck to all of those Nominated for BUTT PICTURE:

Leonardo DiCaprio reaches for the brass ring in THE BUTTIATOR
Johnny Depp hunkers down and creates something special in FINDING BUTTLAND
Jamie Foxx makes beautiful southern music in BUTT
Two buddies have too much wine and probe each other's feelings in BUTTWAYS
Clint Eastwood grunts and squints, helping along the MILLION DOLLAR BUTT

Best Actress in a Leading Role:

Annette Bening - BEING BUTT
Catalina Sandino Moreno - MARIA FULL OF BUTT
Imelda Staunton - VERA BUTT
Hilary Swank - MILLION DOLLAR BUTT
Kate Winslet - ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS BUTT

Achievement in Cinematography

THE BUTTIATOR
HOUSE OF FLYING BUTTS
THE PASSION OF THE BUTT
THE PHANTOM OF THE BUTT

Best Documentary Feature

BORN INTO BUTT
THE STORY OF THE WEEPING BUTT
SUPER SIZE BUTT
TUPAC: BUTT
TWIST OF BUTT

A letter to my yesterday-self.

2005-02-24T19:27:00.000-05:00

Just a bit of advice to get you through today, full-moon or no, it was a killer.

First off, try to get out the door 5 or 10 minutes early, you'll either avoid the cop, (and thus the speeding ticket) or will have enough time to drive the exact speed limit, with him on your tail all the way into work. Remember that driving too slow also makes police suspicious (not that you have anything to hide, other than those magazines when the relatives come around). Come to think of it, ride your bike in today. I know it's 23 degrees, but your wallet, police record, and ass will thank you for it.

Second, don't forget your lunch. Forget the $1.67 in your wallet, the vending machine is nearly empty. Don't get the chocolate-covered donuts---melty, chocolate-covered donut-shaped croutons is more like it. You'll chip a tooth and our dentist is on vacation and can't fit you in until next week. Also, there isn't not enough in the bank to cover lunch until pay day. Please, please, please, bring in something to avoid the embarrasment of your growling stomach during the annual sexual harassment meeting HR scheduled. Also refrain from wearing the Betty Page tie with the light-up tassles. This might not seem so amusing during the 3-hour meeting, and will help you to avoid being used as an example repeatedly throughout the session.

Make sure you fully hang up the phone after you talk to your boss about the deadilne you're working against. She probably won't think the comments you make about her to your co-workers afterward are particularly funny. Also, if you plan to stomach-skateboard down the hall, pick one without a security cam pointed at it.

Try to look busy at 11. The boss is going to look for a volunteer to currier some files across town to the main office. You're going to narrowly avoid hitting a bookmobile while answering the cell, and doing the full "Walk Like An Egyptian" hand motions along with the song as you pass the muslim school is probably something to skip.

In the employee lounge, remember the old lesson learned in Chemistry class that hot glass looks like cold glass. This will allow you to not only avoid calling 911, but will give you the use of your right hand later in the day, when you use your middle finger to adjust your glasses just as the CEO is passing your cubicle. Try to use more than one finger to do that, by the way.

Put out of your mind the fact that you jokingly refer to one of your clients as "Lumpy" (based on his inclination to recieve concussions at least twice a year in the workplace), because you just might slip when he's placing an order with you today. It's hard to make him think he heard you wrong when his name is Bill.

If you must refer to your workplace as a "dump" or "fart factory", try to wait until you're off the clock. Someone who controls your paycheck might overhear you and misconstrue this as discontent.

At home, remember to set the VCR for channel 7 at 8PM, not channel 8 at 7PM. Also remember to set the microwave for 13:00 minutes on the pot pie, not 130:00. There is a diference, and it's really unpleasant.

On second thought, don't get out of bed.

Little-Known Facts

2005-02-15T20:50:00.000-05:00

We're taking the week off, and now so can you!

This week Off Campus takes a moment to give back to the kids. You have been spending quality time reading our comics and blog online after all, telling your friends, sending money, all while your mom thinks you're doing actual "research" online. We know you don't have time to do all your homework and still shoot dice, so let us help you out, courtesey of our sometimes fill-in, the Auto-responder.

We've painstakingly taken the time (well, not us personally, but rather this dusty mass of silicon chips and diodes on the corner of the desk, buried under some junk mail, catalogs and candybar wrappers) to amass some fun and interesting useful facts you can incorporate into your papers or party conversations, proper definitions to words that you think you know, but aren't 100% sure, and so on.

(If, by the way, any of the following is found to be inaccurate, don't come crying to us. That's what you get for not doing the legwork, knowing full well we didn't do it either.)

Real bone-a-fide factoids:

- Tom Carvel invented the soft-serve ice cream machine.

- The United States produces about 650 million pounds of cherries each year.

- 80 feet of wire is in a metal Slinky.

- Nearly one out of every 10 people who get diphtheria will die from it.

- More than five million people participated in Hands Across America.

- Marshmallow Circus Peanuts were invented in the 1800's.

- The average person in Denmark eats 36 pounds of candy per year.

- The word "bung" is not dirty. Look it up.

- Sponges can't fart.

- There are 675 km of unpaved roads on Guam.

- Most goats are seasonal breeders.

- "Frankie" was the 540th most popular male baby name in 1993.

- William Lear designed both the Lear Jet and the 8-track tape.

Stuff I made up:

- George Lazenby, while best know for being the least-known James Bond, also wrestled horses in a Bolivian side-show in the mid-1950's.

- If you dip your feet in a bucket of cork, they'll shine like the Hope Diamond.

- The correct usage of the word "chortle" requires the ringing of a brass bell, somewhere within 50 feet of the person using the word. Failure to do so may result in copyright infringement.

- GONE WITH THE WIND features the greatest number of actual on-screen deaths ever committed in a non-Danish film. (37)

- Yellow crayons are made of a secret combination of mustard and concrete.

- It is often believed that foxes cheat at cards. This is not true. Foxes can't play cards. Beavers are the ones to watch out for.

- While viewed as an unpleasant subject in the US, urination is often celebrated publicly in the lower Andes, with parades and musical theatre devoted to the subject.

- Birds don't really fly south for the winter. They fly south for the tan.

- There once WAS a man from Nantucket. And he could, you know.

- Billy Joel prefers Motts over Ocean Spray.

- The song "Wind Beneath My Wings", when played backwards, sounds slightly better.

- It is physically impossible to touch the back of your head with your tongue. Try it.

- Yellow Dye No. 5 isn't an essential ingredient in everything, it just has strong union representaion.

- When exposed to light, ferns smile.

- Cats always land on their feet, unless there is a piece of buttered toast on its back.

VD For You And Me

2005-02-09T19:30:00.000-05:00

We all know when we're in love, but it's often hard to know when exactly the spark has left the relationship and it's time to dump the nit. We at OC have consulted various hot dog cart vendors, podiatrists and municipal sanitation workers to compile this list of

SIGNS THAT IT'S TIME TO DUMP HIM/HER
or
Indications That Your Love Is Crap

"Our Song" goes from "My Heart Will Go On" to "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald".

You once received a Valentine's Day box of chocolates. Now it's a case of instant mashed potatoes.

"Sweety" becomes "Assface".

Your "His" and "Hers" towels now both say "Mine".

He starts giving you a yearly "That Oughta Do It" $20 bill to cover all birthday, Valentine's Day, and holiday gifts.

Your partner calls out bingo numbers during sex.

You ask for a pet for Christmas and get a swayback hamster.

That cute purring noise your partner makes while sleeping is now viewed as a chainsaw cutting through the Devil's lead-encased femur.

Your find all of your old gifts have gone to Good Will, and all of your new ones are coming from there.

His idea of a romantic evening is watching a Lyle Alzado marathon on the couch.

Not only does he not put the seat down, but he doesn't bother to lift it up anymore. Or turn on the lights.

On vacation, she eschews a walk along the shore for a stroll among the tar pits.

Candle-lit dinners for two occur far less often than all-you-can-eat buffets at the discount food warehouse.

You're sleeping with his brother.

You used to hold them in, now you let 'em rip. Loudly and often.

The long walks after dinner have become long, long visits to the bathroom.

You're sleeping with her brother.

Whispered sweet nothings are now shouted bitter unmentionables.

You keep finding Draino residue on your cereal bowl.

His friends casually refer to you as "his future ex".

You get the old "I think we should start sleeping with other people".

February Mail

2005-02-01T21:50:00.000-05:00

Dear Off Campus,
Do you think the “Great Space Coaster” was really that great?
– Louise, Merrimack

Lou,

When looking back with adult eyes on things we enjoyed in childhood, we are often disappointed to find that they really bite the big bongo. The relative impossibility of seeing any episodes of “The Great Space Coaster” has, for many of our generation, caused the show’s legacy to grow in our hearts and minds. The theme song has been covered by such diverse artists as Herb Alpert and Outkast. Gary Gnu and that blond fuzzy-haired dude and the guy with the little hand-held TV .?.?. . to call them icons would be an understatement. They are legend. The producers of the series, knowing full well that for our generation to actually view the original episodes again would be to put the series’ reputation in jeopardy, have already set about putting the master tapes on a rocket and firing it into the sun. So, to accurately gauge the “greatness” of “The Great Space Coaster,” in mathematical terms, is difficult to say the least. Let’s all agree that the memory of this landmark series is indeed “great.” Let’s continue to buy the tribute albums, see the live Kennedy Center stage re-enactments, attend the conventions and keep the memory alive. We must never forget.

Good Gnus To You,
OC

Dear Off Campus,
What are your feelings on keeping my goldfish and my car keys in the same
bowl?
Mike in Manchester

Dear Mike

I think that you are putting yourself at great risk - the risk of losing your car, AND your pet. Your goldfish is looking for liberty, and you aregiving him just that. As soon as you go to bed, he's in the car and driving straight into the river. It's bye-bye fish, and bye-bye car. You'll lose on the insurance too. No court will rule that the car was "stolen". Of course your safe if you're still driving your grandmothers station wagon or some other less than manly car. Safe in all its definitions - no speeding tickets, or sex (unsafe or otherwise) in the back either.

OC

Dear Off Campus,
Can you recommend a good personal trainer?
Ralph in Somerville

Ralphie, I have a great personal trainer. My nephew Mikey. He’s 5. His parents dump him off here three afternoons a week, and I chase him around for three hours, trying to keep him from setting the cat, carpet and apartment on fire. So far I’ve burned off my “freshman 15.” In fact, my nerves are so shot I’m down to a 31” waist. I’ll pay you to watch him. Please?

OC

An Explanation As To Why I Ate The Last Cookie

2005-01-27T22:55:00.000-05:00

Dear Sir or Madam,

This letter is to inform you that I, Oliver Pendersanden, have, against the good advice of my medical and legal council, eaten the last cookie in the package. My wife had previously verbally advised me of possible repercussions of consuming said cookie (including, but not limited to, both cranial and testicular trauma), but I, being of sound mind and delicate temperament, proceeded of my own free will to both chew and swallow the cookie in question.

The reasons I had for undertaking such a risky endeavor are many, but for the sake of brevity and on the advice of my Magic 8 Ball, I present to you, the Boy Scouts of America, the strongest forces that led me to that fateful ingestion.

On the day of the "cookie incident", I was trying to clean the house while my wife was taking her weekly Kamikaze lessons. I found that the cookie package was taking up precious space in the cupboard and contained only one (1) remaining cookie (which heretofore shall be known and referred to as "the cookie" or "Archie The Cookie"). I reasoned that by eating the cookie I would be able to fit more condensed milk and model rocket fuel into the space the cookie package took up, and could correct the off-kilter Feng Shui of thekitchen that had led to four (4) sprains and a burnt squash. So I ate the cookie.

Besides, I was afraid that the cookie had "gone bad" (not "bad" in the sense that it had started to hang out with the wrong crowd, wear leather and refuse to wipe its feet, but the "bad" that results in late nights, cold sweats, and lavoratorial terror), and didn't want my wife or young children to eat it and suffer the horrors that would most likely ensue. Simply throwing it in the trash was certainly an option, but to be sure that no animals or hobos unknowingly consumed it (and would then, in turn, be consumed BY it, not to mention embalmed and entombed), I shouldered (or, more appropriately, STOMACHED) the burden myself. So I ate the cookie. Luckily, it was indeed good. SINFULLY good.

Besides, I had experienced a vivid nightmare three Wednesdays prior in which the Cookie Monster was chasing me through a Woolworth's with a large, chocolate-stained scythe, growling the phrase "C is for Cookie" over and over again. This phrase had been trapped in my head for three solid weeks, and it seemed logical at the time that the only way to erase my mental tape loop (shy of endless renditions of "The Name Game") was to eat the cookie. So I ate the cookie. "C is for Cookie" was unfortunately replaced in my head by "I Shot The Sheriff". (How I managed to remove that from my mental play-list I am not allowed to discuss at this time, pending the outcome of that trial.)

Besides, as I entered the kitchen earlier that day I came upon a small flock of Communists hiding under my sink. I attempted to shoo them out into the backyard with a broom, but when I tried, they became belligerent and brandished broken bottles. They explained that they had almost completed their plot to overthrow the government (of where they would not say), and all they needed was one (1) more cookie to complete their Anti-Hibachi Ray, which they would use to disrupt summer fun across the land, and thereby bring our way of life to its knees. Well sir (or madam), I am an AMERICAN. I would not stand idly by and watch these COMMUNISTS destroy all the fun and cheap thrills we work 40+ hours a week for, partially removing the joy of flame-grilled meat products from the weekend landscape. I had no choice but to do what Thomas Jefferson would have done in a similar situation (give or take the part about the hibachi). So I ate the cookie, thereby thwarting their nefarious and ill-conceived plan. Once again the spirit of freedom and charred beef struck down the Communist threat.

And lastly, as a side-note, I must confess that I likes them cookies.

Please take all of the above into account before you render your decision. I feel that while the eating of the cookie in question may have been in questionable taste (being that it *was* a Thursday), I feel that this brief flirtation with Old Scratch should not be held up as a blanket example of my abilities as a sailor or fry cook, and will hopefully not deter you from allowing me to borrow further books from your lending library.

Respectfully,

Oliver Pendersanden
Third In Line to A Copy of Queen's Greatest Hits

Resolution Help

2005-01-18T22:02:00.000-05:00

Resolv-O from the makers of Placebo*
Rumpatatious Micklesulfate tablets

J.P. Skruujob, Inc. (a subsidiary of the Towelfruit Corporation), the maker of PLACEBO*, is proud to annouce the introduction of Resolv-O, the wonder drug that drugs wonders.

Tired of making New Year's resolutions that you never keep, forget about, or are forcibly restrained from completing? Tire no more, with new Resolv-O, the thrice-a-day capsule that helps you keep those half-hearted self-pledges!

Tested on a random sampling of mini-mart loiterers, initial results remain a tightly-guarded secret.

BRIEF SUMMARY - Please see package insert or cereal box top for full prescribing information (special decoder ring required, sold separately).

TESTIMONIALS:
Dr. Julie Plitz of the Get-U-Well Hospi-tel in Ritnick, WA: "We believe we've seen a marked improvement in our patients who've taken Resolv-O, over those who've taken a bus out of town. Our Resolv-O patients are still alive and well, while we never see those other people anymore."

Queenie Delvino of Mornagfelch, LA: "Every year, I vow I'm going to try to lose some weight, and every year, I never manage to do it. Since I've taken Resolv-O, I've developed a rare blood disease and lost 100 pounds. Thank you, Resolv-O!"

Tom Yepp of Dunring, RI: "I finally won the lottery! Thank you Resolv-O! Does anyone know what I'm supposed to do with a year's supply of sausage?"

Hep Fred Swinzler of Little Small, CO: "I had a headache and took two of my wife's Resolv-O pills by mistake. Next thing I knew, I'd fulfilled my life's ambition to be a gay magician. And my headache was gone!"

USEAGE: Resolv-O just might help in attaining the following goals:
Lose weight, diet, exercise, be a better husband, beat a better husband, learn French, learn to French, clean the house, clean the garage, clean the oven, clean the oxen, learn foxy boxing, stop smoking, get the band back together, go metric, heal the shunted, walk a mile in another man's mochachino, do the hokey pokey, shock the monkey, climb every mountain, learn to draw comics the Marvel way, style your hair like 1973, twiddle with greater accuracy, attain higher consciousness though potato worship, re-organize your Voltron tapestries, alphabetize your belts, call your mother, walk the hamster, solve that Rubik's cube you got for Christmas in 1984, try organic wax lips, build an energy-efficient steam shovel, single-handedly bring back the Hully Gully, jump hurdles on your knees, learn inverted Swahili, close cover before striking, stop crying in public restrooms, finally make it as a professional wrestling referee, take air hockey lessons, swim the Erie Canal, yawn continuously for 13 minutes or more, read the complete works of Kirk Douglas, ignore the voices in your head, see a doctor about that "paucity", spend a week in Lompoc, shave your tongue, tattoo your eyelids, read to geese, eliminate walnuts, jump a Winnebago over the Bering Strait -- blindfolded, house and clothe the dizzy, swim with the tuna, watch all of the AIR BUD series in Spanish, consolide your remotes, spackle, streak at the opera, fix that kazoo, mend international relations, improve your bowling score, develop a keen sense of foreboding, master the fine art of jello wrestling, stop taking unneccesary medications and more.

So if you, like millions, have trouble keeping your New Year's resolutions, why not try Resolv-O? It may or may not make your dreams come true.

(Like most New Year's resolutions, there is a 1 in 100 chance that Resolv-O will work for you. If you fail to see results after 30 days of use, please consult your mechanic.)

New Years Lament

2005-01-11T22:32:00.000-05:00

The beginning of a new year, just like back to school time, always makes me antsy. Despite being out of school after all these years I still expect things to change. Seasonally. Yearly. Shouldn’t I be packing, moving, figuring out the quickest route to class? In recent years I’ve resorted to rearranging the furniture, buying new clothes or even sharpening a new crop of No. 2 pencils – despite the fact that I haven’t needed one since the SATs.

The biggest thing I miss about the good ol’ days of campus living is the necessity to walk everywhere. Sound odd? I’ll explain.

Self-imposed near-poverty was probably the best thing for my mental, financial, and physical well being. Living on or near campus in a college town fostered a sense of independence only understood by relying on one’s own self to get to class, work and the grocery store. It certainly saved money – no car or gas payment to scrounge up sofa change for. It saved on groceries too – if it didn’t fit in my backpack, I didn’t need it. And all this walking saved me the time and expense of a pesky gym membership.

Not needing the gym throughout college, we are broken of a traditional exercise regime. Plus, why should we pay good money for a fitness level that used to be free?

Today, people are appalled at the costs of car ownership, what with escalating insurance and gas prices. These and other typical auto maintenance costs particularly hit the recent college graduate. But there is one more, often overlooked, high price to joining the well-wheeled adult world – the need for a brand new (larger) wardrobe,

Settling in behind the driver’s seats of our new adult lives, our sneakers are growing dusty while our waistlines are simply growing. No longer living in our own little micro-univers(ities), we can almost rationalize paying for additional years of academia (thus, retaining access to gym-as-lifestyle) rather than coughing up the cash for a year’s club membership.

Yes, the lack of exercise is to blame, but that’s not all. Fashion itself is talking over our lives.

Blame the new metrosexuals, blame Queer-Eye, blame your TV! Why did we turn into a world of DIY-ers, finding the need to give a facelift to everything in our lives from our homes to ourselves? What happened to substance above surface?

Holey jeans and T-shirts, once our proud uniform, are now unworthy of the light of day.
I used to go out in cut-offs or sweats. Now I have to change to run out for milk. When did I start buying milk? Why are there more vegetables than beer in the fridge, for that matter? What happened?! Did I miss something?! Did I accidentally grow up?!

Maybe I can go back for my Masters next fall. Become a student again, stepping back into campus life for a much needed change.

OC

January Mail

2005-01-04T22:08:00.000-05:00

Dear Off Campus,
What's the difference between DVD+R and DVD-R?
Yolanda in Berlin

Yo- If I remember my High School physics or algebra correctly, It would seem that the former will add an R sound to all modes of speech, while the latter will take it away. This is what the industry means by "regional encoding". This is especially handy for New Englanders, and Southerners, Allowing all types of actors to be understood when they say things like Pizzer, winder (pizza, window) or Hahvid yaad. (Harvard Yard), Excuse us while we go paak the caa.

OC

Dear Off Campus,
Is it better to run from a pack of flesh-eating zombies, or play dead?
Barbara, Pittsburg

Run? By all means no. Doesn't matter if you ran Varsity track and got a full boat to State U to run the steeplechase, they will still catch you. No matter how slow they plod along, they're always right behind you. And don't play dead, they'll check. And by check I mean take a bite or two just to be sure. The best thing you can do is shuffle along as if you're one of them. Shuffle a little slower and make a break for it, back the way they came. Worst case, keep pretending your dead.

Shuffling along,
OC

Dear Off Campus,
When choosing a humidifier, is shape of more concern than color?
What are your recommendations?
Lianna in Grantham

Hi Li,
May we call you Li? Color don't matter so much as shape, and if by shape you mean size. There is no way to ward off the dangers of dry air, static, and worst of all, dry staticy hair without the largest humidifier you can possibly find. Get 2 or 3 for each room while your at it and you can forget lugging the tank back and forth to the sink. Those wimpy models will never get your bedroom to those humidity levels that will keep your Jungle lovin' going. You wanna feel the sparks flying, but you don't want to really feel sparks now do you?

OC

The mandatory end of the year list

2004-12-28T22:54:00.000-05:00

As another year draws to a close, a proliferation of year-end lists fills the media landscape, from FAMILY CIRCLE's "Top Ten Glazed Dioramas Depicting Quasi-Religious Scenarios" to Bravo's "All-Time Favorite TV Christmas Insinuations", everyone wants to break down life's lighter moments into a simple series of one-liners. Personally, we think this is lazy, unimaginitive, and pretty tired.

So here's ours!

The OFF CAMPUS Rear-End, Year-End Holiday Top Ten List

1) Rustoleum
2) Yellow
3) George Hamilton
4) Speed-Walking
5) Pez
6) Length-wise
7) "Hud"
8) Orange Circus Peanuts
9) Crayola
10) Prickly Heat

OFF CAMPUS's Top Ten Top Ten Lists:

1) Top Ten Southern Speedtraps
2) Top Ten Circus Phobias
3) Top Ten Bathroom Wallpapers
4) Top Ten Industrial Accidents
5) Top Ten Chinese Baby Names
6) Top Ten TV Maids
7) Top Ten Ceramic Monkey Operettas
8) Top Ten Cloud Formations
9) Top Ten Funniest Old Testament Limericks
10) Top Ten Fuzzy Hats

Top Five Ideas We Almost Did Before We Decided To Be Lazy And Do A List List:

1) Make up words that sound dirty, and innocently drop them into fake quotes from fake people.
2) Discuss the pros and cons of full-body lamination.
3) Analyze the long-term effects of prolonged juvenlile exposure to photos of Randy Travis.
4) Attempt to explain the enduring popularity of reality shows by insulting the intilligence of everyone who watches them.
5) Change the words to a Christmas song to make it dirty.

Very (Very) Last Minute Gift Ideas

2004-12-22T22:57:00.000-05:00

You're about to head out to a Christmas party, and you find yourself without a gift.

Lucky for you we have the latest offerings! Just look around the house...and don't forget to remind them, it's the thought that counts.

Breakfast-To-Go Kit: Pop-Tarts & Cocoa
Yummy & warm on a cold winter's day!

Pen Bouquet & Mug
Brighten someone's desk or hutch with a colorful assortment of ink-holding pens! When the pens are all gone, the mug can be used to hold liquid refreshments! Or MORE PENS!

AOL brand (tm) circular sausage and pizza slicer:
Much more than a coaster!

Sock-Full-o'Change:
It's a weapon, a doorstop and a paperweight all rolled into one!

Off Campus 2004 Collectors' Ornament:
Cut it out and stick to something you pulled off your tree. (this makes more sense in the comic than it does in the blog. hint, hint...)

Festive 4 or 5-Pack:
Santa saved one for himself, and gives the rest to YOU!

Swiffer (tm) Monogrammed Hankerchief
It'll pick up dust, grime, and seven known forms of nasal bacteria! Hand-monogrammed in washable Sharpie.

Special Magic Magic Water:
What does it do? We can't tell you, but it will fill you with a sense of quenchment and cool!

Old Shoe Planter
For the plant on the go.

Baseball Cap Candle Holder
What better way to please the baseball lover/scented candle enthusiast than this two-in-one gift homer?

Cardboard Tube Imaginastic Fun Factory Variety Pack
Let your giftee's mind soar with this evocative set of paper-based cylinders. They can fight pirates, pole-vault at the Olympics, or joust to their hearts' content with these durable (just don't bend them or get them wet) holiday favorites!

Tupperware Container Filled With Shampoo
Everybody loves Tupperware. Everybody loves shampoo. Not only does the recipient get additional body and bounce in their hair, but when they've used up the goo, the can keep a sandwich fresh indefinitely! (Cleaning is recommended before introducing food into the Tupperware).

A Bag of Old Cassette Tapes and a Hammer
Give the gift of technological vendetta-fulfillment this Christmas! This specially-prepared lets the user take out his or her aggression on artists of the past, and the now-defunct format they once thrived on. (Also available in VHS, CED, Laserdisc, and LP editions.)

Live dangerously with the Past-Due Food Collection!
From questionably consumable milk to dangerously dodgy ham, thrill-seekers and extreme gamers alike will jump at the chance to tempt fate and FDA standards with this putrid collection of questionably-edible foodstuffs.

A Personalized, Hand-Written List of Your Good Points (In Ink!)
Pick up a friend's spirits with a personalized list of their strengths and non-offensive traits. Anyone can buy an "I love you this much" greeting card, but only those who care enough to write longhand can warm the hearts with a personalized, itemized, weatherized list of things that make them exceptionally spiffy. Great gift for bosses, teachers, spouses...anyone you need to earn points with.

A Festive Jar of Gasoline
Nothing says "I understand your financial difficulties" like a glistening jar of gasoline. Whether lighting a big fire in a hurry, powering a vehicle, or engaging in casual huffing, gasoline is the gift they'll remember you for.

A Child's Garden of Crabgrass
Teach a child you know all about horticulture and unwanted pests with a shoe-box filled with living, BREATHING crabgrass! (Fire ants sold separately)

A Child's First Dustbuster
Every child needs that first appliance, so why not give the gift of Dustbusting? Available with optional laser-pointer sight, for tracking of under-the-bed dust bunnies and weevils.

Sears Catalog Paper Dolls
Mix and match outfits with a variety of styles and models, courtesy of the Sears Catalog (or substitute newspaper circulars). Available in this year's styles!

Salepper
It's Salt! It's Pepper! It's Salepper! Save time and avoid Carpel Tunnel Syndrome--one shake does it all!

Hand-Made Paper Airplane Collection
Expertly hand-crafted by a graduate of the fifth grade (or higher), this fleet of paper airplanes are sure to delight anyone who has ever yearned to soar above the clouds or disrupt a classroom/board meeting. Not guaranteed to fly, but guaranteed to look like they might be able to.

Give The Norm a hand

2004-12-15T23:22:00.000-05:00

Christmas is a time of inspiration. Please take a moment today to visit one of the comics that inspires me (which in turn keeps me creating, and thereby keeps you reading everything that is Off Campus)

Formerly appearing in newspapers across the country, Michael Jantzes The Norm, can now only be seen at www.thenorm.com (or in stacks of old newspapers in attics and basements).

Christmas is also a time of giving, and The Norm needs our help. Having broken away from the world of newspaper syndication, he needs enough subscribers to stay afloat and keep drawing. At present, he's more than halfway to his goal of 4000 subscribers, and you can help. We're talkin' 25 bucks here, that's way cheaper than an annual subscription to the very paper you had you buy to read The Norm in the first place. So pick up a couple of your christmas presents at a discount on e-bay, and with the money you save, send The Norm a couple bucks. And in turn, you'll be entertained, and keep a couple of artists happy, who in turn keeps at present count 2490 +1 people happy, and the world is a nicer place. Wow!

Seasons Greetings, Happy Holidays and MERRY CHRISTMAS!

-OC

The Lost Rankin-Bass Specials

2004-12-08T23:04:00.000-05:00

We all remember Rudolph, Frosty, Santa, and Nestor, those timeless Rankin-Bass animated classics. As that time of year rolls around again, and ABC Family pulls out all the stops and airs them round-the-clock, we at OC turn our attention to some of the lesser-known Rankin-Bass specials that, for one reason or another, have remained on the shelves since their original broadcasts, far from the shimmering light of a picture tube or DVD. Here, for the first time publicly, we dip into the Rankin-Bass vault and uncover the lost classics of our youth.....

THE LOST RANKIN-BASS SPECIALS: 1975 - 1985

The Story of Ike, The Cristmas Chimp (1975)
Christmas as seen through the eyes of a chimp who appears on greeting cards. Ike discovers the sprit of Christmas through a series of comic adventures and wild ride on a runaway hot dog cart.

Rudolph's Shiny New Ears (1978)
After an emergency crash landing into a snowblower, Rudolph is re-built better, faster, and stronger with bionic ears. After learning a hard lesson about eavesdropping, Rudolph is enlisted in the off-season by the FBI as a wireless wiretapper, listening in on organized crime figures in the greater Detroit area.

The Little Drummer Boy Joins The Navy (1980)
The Little Drummer Boy, now 18, decides to leave home and join the Navy, where he uses his drumming skills to both entertain the troops and communicate with dolphins. Special performance of "In The Navy" by The Village People, animated as a school of Tuna.

Frosty: Still Smokin' (1981)
Frosty dips himself in dry ice and heads to Florida for Spring Break to chill with the party crowd. Giving off an eerie fog everywhere he goes, he becomes the life of the party and the target of local narcotics officers. Featuring an animated performance by Kim Carnes and guest voices by Larry Hagman and Linda Lavin.

The Year Without a Santa Claus Suit (1982)
A department store Santa loses his rented suit, and must improvise with vegetables to create a passsable costume, or lose his job.

Santa Claus Is Taking A Year Off An Re-examining His Values (1983)
Santa Claus decides to cool it for a year and look within. A more adult approach to animation from Rankin-Bass, essentially a claymation one-man show as Pernell Roberts (TV's Trapper John, M.D.) goes deep inside the psyche as Kris Kringle, the man. Special guest voice appearance by Linda Lavin.

The Year Without A New Rankin-Bass Special (1984)
Strange, experimental special from Rankin-Bass, examining the effects of no new Rankin-Bass special on two young children, who have to fend for their Rankin-Bass-deprived selves and watch IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE again. Broke the fourth-wall in a revolutionary, though not terribly entertaining, way. Essentially a ten-minute wrap-around created to bookend a network airing of IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE.

Santa Claus Is Doing Just Fine (1985)
Special created after the complete failure (and avalanche of hate-mail received after the airing) of the experimental SANTA CLAUS IS TAKING THE YEAR OFF AND RE-EXAMINING HIS VALUES, to reassure children that Santa still existed and was not a self-pitying emotional sinkhole. Santa sings songs, pets animals, and delivers lots and lots of presents. A special 900 number was activated the week before and after the special aired, featuring the voice of the animated Santa apologizing for the previous special, and assuring children that he was happy and free of self-hatred. Special guest voice by Linda Lavin.

December Mail

2004-12-01T22:01:00.000-05:00

Courtesy of the Auto-responder

Dear OC,
Why do I cry when I wear green socks?
Beverly in Beverly

Beverlyx2,

This is an auto-responder. Please do not reply to this message. Thank you for your inquiry. I will be out of the office this week, returning on Monday. All messages will be answered via our automated reply generator. Please note that these answers are for entertainment purposes only, and should not be considered legally binding or a substitute for proper diet and
exercise. Your randomly-generated answer follows.
------ Because GREEN SOCKS killed your parents.

OC

Dear Off Campus,
Is it true that a diet high in fructose can lead to werewolfism?
Olivia in Portsmouth

OP,

This is an auto-responder. Please do not reply to this message. Thank you for your inquiry. I will be out of the office this week, returning on Monday. All messages will be answered via our automated reply generator. Please note that these answers are for entertainment purposes only, and should not be considered legally binding or a sugar substitute with zero net
carbs. Your randomly-generated answer follows.
------ Because FRUCTOSE killed your parents.

OC

Dear Off Campus
Chevy Chevette or Chevy Nova? Which is a stronger chick-magnet?
J.E.

Jee

This is an auto-responder. Please do not reply to this message. Thank you for your inquiry. I will be out of the office this week, returning on Monday. All messages will be answered via our automated reply generator. Please note that these answers are for entertainment purposes only, and should not be considered legally binding or as a suitable means to be excused from gym class. Your randomly-generated answer follows.
------ Because CHICK-MAGNETS killed your parents.

OC

November Mail

2004-11-23T21:45:00.000-05:00

Dear Off Campus
My vet REFUSES to see both my Chia pet and my Pet Rock. What should I do?
D.S.V. Tyngsboro.

Seaquest,

Apparently your vet is a faddist...one who harbors an unreasonable distaste and prejudice against briefly-popular knick-knacks. Our advice would be to consult the Fad-Friendly Veterinary Association (www.ffva.bs) directory to assist you in locating someone who can accurately diagnose Chia and Rock afflictions, free from the burden of scorn and malpractice.

OC

Dear OC,
How did anyone ever figure out what a square-root was before calculators?
PF, Nashua

Piff,

In the days before calculators, finding the square root of a number was very similar to a barn raising. You needed eleven strong men, nine brave women, a sundial, and a concrete abacus...and even then it was mostly guesswork.

OC

OC,
Say you were born and raised in the Phoenix household, with River, Joaquin, etc..., what name would you have chosen for yourself?
Sammie H.

Samala,

In keeping with the family's naming theme, I would choose either Sleet or Maelstrom. All kidding aside, Sleet Phoenix sounds kinda cool, doesn't it? If I were an Extreme Sports Dude, I think Sleet Phoenix would get me more action than Boomer McWordsworth, fer shur.

OC

Dear Off Campus
Is it wiser to invest a portion of my weekly earning in stocks, cds, or keep it in the mattress?
P. D., Nashua

Petey,

Investing wisely can be difficult. Stocks generally go up over the very long term, but can be risky and who has that kind of time. You're supposed to replace your mattress every so many years, and in the event of a fire, you're broke. We recommend sticking your money in an off-site, secure location. Send your cash or checks to "Invest Off Campus" C/O 168 Magazine, PO Box 1008, Nashua, NH 03061. As with any investment, even your local bank, some risk is involved.

Thanks in advance,
OC

PLACEBO*

2004-11-16T21:32:00.000-05:00

Rumpatatious Micklesulfate tablets

J.P. Skruujob, Inc. (a subsidiary of the Towelfruit Corporation) is proud to annouce the introduction of PLACEBO*, the wonder drug that contains absolutely no preservatives.

Tested on a tightly-controlled group of hypochondriac circus performers, initial results were inconclusive enough to warrant a rush-release to an eager, if indifferent public.

BRIEF SUMMARY - Please see package insert for full prescribing information (printed in invisible ink for you convenience and
amusement).

TESTIMONIALS:

Dr. T. Joe Allen of the Carl's Veterinary Clinic and Auto Body Shop in Almince, ND: "Our patients love PLACEBO*. We haven't heard one discernable word in complaint from any of them."

Susan McFong of Reed, WI: "I had a terrible ringing in my ears until I took PLACEBO*. Now the ringing is completely gone, replaced by a sense of self-worth and an itch that I'm seeing a doctor about."

Geoff Carney of Islip, CO: "I was experience difficulty looking at photos of elk, so I gave PLACEBO* a try. Now I can look at pictures of elk AND antelope! Thank you PLACEBO*!

Carlene J. Middle, Hobosco, ND: "My sinuses were bothering me, and the store was out of tomatoes, so I tried PLACEBO. It tastes great in a Caesar salad!"

The list of satisfied and bemused customers is endless.

USEAGE: PLACEBO* has been rumored and/or insinuated to aid in the following ailments:

Sticky fingers, aches including {but not limited to) areas of the head/feet/arms/heart/finances, dandruff of the legs, the Yemeni Flu, St. Vitus' Stumble, prarie fatigue, floral fixation, overactive uterus, apple fancy, swelling of the bones, auld land syne, heart murmur, heart mumble, Heart featuring Ann and Nancy Wilson, irrational urge to floss, rational urge to avoid unnecessary medication, wanderlust, inflammation of the hair, hair of the dog, dog breath, canine dementia, feline pretentia, camel hump, sexual distraction, long attention span, cartoon envy, audible blinking, frequent liquidy visions and the inability to control them, loss of foot dexterity, poor judgement, excessive dental sensitivity to wind, hair growth in strange places, intermittent signal loss, intermittent Bavarian, inopportune polka tendencies, longitudinal weight gain, ocular misalignment, summer switch, tea shakes, aromatic eardrum, childhood jaywalking, tennis jaw, diver's trot, farmer's almanac, ballerina
back, visions of quail, and some forms of bingo bladder.

WARNINGS: PLACEBO* has been rumored and/or insinuated to cause the following ailments:

Sticky fingers, aches including {but not limited to) areas of the head/feet/arms/heart/finances, dandruff of the legs, the Yemeni Flu, St. Vitus' Stumble, prarie fatigue, floral fixation, overactive uterus, apple fancy, swelling of the bones, auld land syne, heart murmur, heart mumble, Heart featuring Ann and Nancy Wilson, irrational urge to floss, rational urge to avoid unnecessary medication, wanderlust, inflammation of the hair, hair of the dog, dog breath, canine dementia, feline pretentia, camel hump, sexual distraction, long attention span, cartoon envy, audible blinking, frequent liquidy visions and the inability to control them, loss of foot dexterity, poor judgement, excessive dental sensitivity to wind, hair growth in strange places, intermittent signal loss, intermittent Bavarian, inopportune polka tendencies, longitudinal weight gain, ocular misalignment, summer switch, tea shakes, aromatic eardrum, childhood jaywalking, tennis jaw, diver's trot, farmer's almanac, ballerina back, visions of quail, and some forms of bingo bladder.

So, if you've tried the best (and the rest), and Nothing But Nothing Will Make You Feel Better (tm), why not try PLACEBO*? It certainly couldn't hurt.

Man Can Cook

2004-11-11T02:09:00.000-05:00

I was looking at my calendar this week, and noticed that 11/4 was National Men Make Dinner Night. This got me to thinking about the long-standing misconception that men don't cook, or don't enjoy the act of cooking. Now you can immediately deflate this notion with a list of the World's Greatest (or at least Most Famous) Cooks, the majority of whom will be face-shavers. (Emeril, Wolfgang Puck, Chef Boyardee, the Keebler Elves....need I say more?) That aside, I think more and more men are comfortable cooking these days. I myself prepare most meals in our humble adobe, and have heard very few
complaints (of course, eating with a football helmet on does tend to block out such noises).

So, I thought I'd list my favorite dishes that I, a man of the male persuasion, enjoy cooking on a regular basis:

1) Pop-Tarts: This was one of the first meals I mastered, and something I still enjoy preparing from time to time. My flavor of choice is Chocolate, suitable for a sweet-toothy breakfast or late-night snack. I knock with the generic store brands, as the official Pop-Tart variety has gone way overboard with the choclateyness of the product, crossing the line into Instant Diabetes Territory ("IDT" on Nasdaq). It takes a bit of finesse to properly prepare a Pop-Tart; heat it too long and it's molten goo inside a cardboard shingle, undercook it and it's a cold, bland, dirt slice. I find that in order to get it just right, you need to monitor the process, popping the tart after 30 or so seconds and gently pinching the outer edge. It's just right when your fingers can sink in and feel the warmth. That sounds kinda dirty, so I'll leave it at that.

2) Boboli Pizza: Not just a do-it-yourself pizza, but a joyousexperiment in food construction and consumption. Boboli provides the bread, you slap on the sauce and cheese (I add a little garlic powder and oregano for additional flavor), chuck it in the oven (it won't fit in the microwave unless you, you know, shove it in), and ten minutes later you have yourself a big 'ol pie. I usually make it for myself one quarter/slice at a time, as the whole thing is just too much for me. If you're a hog, feel free to eat the whole thing by yourself. Fatty.

3) Campbell's Chunky Soup: The key here is to monitor the cooking of the soup so as to avoid the "chunky" aspect of it burning and fusing to the edges of the pot. A watched pot may never boil, but it also never needs to be thrown away because it has potato chunks welded to the inside.

4) Ben & Jerry's Mint Chocolate Cookie Ice Cream: I know what you're thinking: HOW DO YOU COOK ICE CREAM? You don't, you fool. BUT, in order to dig in to a fresh-from-the-fridge container of your fave flave, I find that by popping it into the microwave for twenty to thirty seconds can greatly aid you in getting the goldurn scoop to penetrate the stuff, and makes it less granite-like when you pop it into your gob. Please note that while I've listed a specific brand and flavor of ice cream, this procedure works for all varieties. (As a sub-side-note, I just wanted to mention that while Turkey Hill ice cream could indeed be great, I just can't bring myself to eat ice cream with the word "turkey" on it.)

5) Pepperidge Farms Chicken Pot Pie: This is one of my greatest nemesisesisessisi....foes. I find that if I follow the instructions, I open the microwave door after it bing-bongs and find that the center of the pie is still frozen solid. So, after another couple of rounds, I can usually equalize the middle of the pie with the outer rim. This, like the Pop-Tart procedure, is a game of finesse. Sometimes you eat the perfect pot pie, sometimes a burnt, disgusting one eats you.

6) 99 Steakhouse's Chicken, Broccoli, and Ziti: I know, I don't actually "cook" this initially, but the portions here are so inhumanly huge that I always wind up taking 3/4 of it home and comsuming it for another lunch and/or dinner. About two minutes in the microwave and it's once again a luscious treat. I'm now seeing the upside of the ever-growing portion sizes in America's restaurants: one of their "meals" equals four of mine!

7) Super Oreos: Super Oreos are a creation of my own design, actually more "preperation" than "cooking", but everyone digs them just the same. What you need is a healthy pack of Double-Stuf Oreos. (Regular Oreos are so lacking in Stuf that they will not be discussed here...oops.) Remove the DSO's from the package and carefully unscrew one half of each, so that each DSO yeilds a blank cookie side and a cookie-with-stuf side, combine the cookie-with-stuf sides and you have SUPER OREOS. Throw the blank cookies away, or use them as non-slip patches in your tub.

I hope that this little walk down culinary lane has helped you to see that YES, men do indeed cook (dinner and otherwise), as well as provide you with some tasty and almost-healthy choices for eating in the home.

OC