Friday, October 29, 2010


As Halloween quickly approaches this Sunday night, girls and boys all around the country are putting their final touches on their 2010 costumes! Many adults hope to make a stir at their office Halloween party dressed as a very topical Chilean miner , while others hope to give a friend a giggle with their ridiculous (and outdated) Spongebob Square Pants get-up, but a large fraction of lady-people have ONE thing on their minds this Halloween....TO BE SLUTTY SOMETHIN'.

I now present to you, dear ghoulish readers, an open letter to.....THE  SLUTTY (FILL IN THE BLANK) HALLOWEEN COSTUME GIRLS.


Ladies, ladies, ladies. What the eff? Put some clothes on. Your costume is neither logical, nor cute. Here I am at the Halloween party in my giant 3-headed dragon costume, while you stand there dressed in 2 small pieces of glitter-filled fabric you like to call a "Slutty Unicorn". Tell me, ladies...when was the last time you were face-to-face with a "Slutty Unicorn"? What made him so slutty? Did he wear see-thru pasties as well? If so, more power to you! Also, if Slutty Unicorns truly exist, I'm positive that his unicorn horn is NOT placed in the place you have placed it. He has it on his head, you have it on your lady bits. VERY different places. 

Ladies, I respect your eagerness for the holiday, but I must ask...are you chilly? You must be! I wonder only because it is 30 degrees out and you seem to be wearing close to nothing. If you're ok with that, that's cool, just know I'm over here with a sweater stuffed in my dragon crotch for you to pop on in case of emergencies. I come to parties appropriately dressed and prepared for emergencies! 

For me, Halloween is a time for good ol' fashioned fun. A time to watch "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!" and trick-or-treat until I throw up from sugar poisoning. If you can't respect the good nature of the Halloween I take great pride in, you should have it taken off your calendars, Slutty Halloween Costume Girls. Put your pasties and short skirts away for your wedding night...or for other fun slutty times! 

3-headed dragon and I are going to go carve a pumpkin in the shape of a good-natured unicorn. Put some underwear on.  



Thursday, October 21, 2010


A few days ago I fell into a toilet. Here's my story. I present to you an open letter to...USERS OF UNISEX BATHROOMS!


See the toilet in that picture?? Take a long, hard look at it....Do you recognize that fine piece of porcelain? You just happened to be with it in that bathroom right before me. Do you know what happened after you left? I FELL INTO THAT TOILET! Do you know why? Because you didn't put that seat down when you left! 

I respect and appreciate the beauty of the unisex bathroom, but with the beauty of the unisex bathroom comes great responsibility. No longer will I live in a world where I run the risk for falling bum-first into the pool of germs. Gentlemen, put the seat down. Ladies, don't clog it up. Simple as that. 

If I fall into it again, we're in troubsies. For seers. 




See this dude? He's awesome. We're besties, jealous? 

Meet my best friend, Nick. 

We like to talk. We like talking. We talk to each other, we talk to ourselves. Heck! We even talk to walls! Whatever we do..we can be found in the middle of a talk. 

We can talk for hours at a time. About what. you may ask? About anything and everything, I say! Whether it be a run-down of the latest episode of critically-ashamed sitcom, "Cougar Town", or even hours of talking about our mutual adoration for Destiny's Child. 

Our friendship knows no end. Even though Nick has moved across the country, the love our chatting chatter never ends. We can talk 'til we're blue in the face, or even 'til when we get sleepy and need to take a little chatty break. 

(Recently on one of our weekly Skype dates, hour 2 of "Nick and Madde Chat Time!" was spent napping!)

I bring Nicholas up for a reason (not only just because I wanted to share this ridiculous picture of us napping together on skype), but because Nick is a rare breed of professional chatter from Chattiapolis, Chatisota. 

 Conversation is something to be cherished, but not a lot of people know how to keep it up! Those people are what we like to call "losers". Je hate them.

Conversation is a lost art. 

Hey readers! Snuggle's story time! Woo!!

Once upon a few weeks ago, I could be found hanging out with a man named...well, let's call him... "Gentleman Caller". After spending quite a lot of time together, Gentleman Caller and I hit a wall. I like to call this the...


After I recovered from the love concussion caused from hitting the "W.A.Y.S.B.A.I.N.R" wall, I had to do some serious self-reflection. I realized that my Gentlemen Caller and I had never really had a significant conversation. We spent our time going to movies or out with others... or my personal favorite, watching him play Soccer video games! None of these situations required us to have to communicate if we didn't want to.  Whaaat? How is this possible? I'm a chatterbox! I love to chat! I'm the Mayor of Chattiapolis, Chattisota! I live to chat! I was spending a significant amount of time with a person who's conversation with me consisted of the following gems:

"Call me"
"Good movie"

...and my personal favorite:

"You're sorta weird, aren't you? "

 As I dug deep in the history books of my brief encounter with Gentleman Caller, I had enough of the boring. I made the executive decision to put an end to our silence make a move toward greater inspired conversation with a man who spent most of his time with zipped lips. 

My dabbling in conversation ended up blowing up in my face. It ended with another one of his classic one-liners:

"Jesus, what's with you and talking?"

At the end of the day I realized something very important, Gentleman Caller and I were vastly different. We were doomed from the start, and no attempts at conversation about critically-ashamed Courtney Cox sitcoms is going to save us from ourselves.  I'm the Mayor of Chattiapolis and he's simply a City Councilman from Snooze Paul. Simple as that.  I care to communicate, he cares to be a mute. To each their own, I suppose. 

Until then...I get to chat up a storm with this:


Friday, October 8, 2010

"Dating is like a dance..." GUEST BLOGGER: LAURA BUCHHOLZ

Well, it looks like I'm growing up as a human being. No longer am I selfish, not only have I removed the giant picture of my face from the front page of my blog, but I'm sharing the spotlight now too!

My Guest Blogger today is the beautiful Ms. Laura Buchholz. Laura ranks in my top 5 fave peeps..ever. She writes a lot of funny stuff for a lot of funny people. Sometimes we do improv that's fun.

I typed Laura's name into Google...and this is what I found.  What an awesome picture of her to share with you! Doesn't she look fun? Read on...

"Dating Is Like a Dance..."
By Laura Buchholz.

They say that dating is like a dance, and maybe the reason we all have so many problems with dating now is because dancing has changed.

I think when people liken dating to a dance, they have a very specific kind of dancing in mind:  namely, couples dancing of the sort that is just not done anymore, except in the slow-dance portion of the prom, which isn’t really dancing anyway, just an extended hug accompanied by music. 

If you go back to, say, the 40s, dancing was facilitated by two things, both of them initiated by the man.  Here is the series of events:

A)   Man asks a woman to dance.
B)   Man leads.

Easy, right? 


So fast forward to today.

Dancing is hip hop and house and the man and woman are equal, mainly because nobody initiates, everybody is just sort of there jumping around in front of each other but not touching.  Most of the motions are sort of violent, fist-pumping, jerking around, moving from side to side.   In fact, there is not a huge difference between what happens in the dances of today vs. what might happen in a step aerobic studio, (if that even happens anymore) with the lights off.  Instead of dancing WITH each other, people now just dance NEAR each other and we get a pretty good workout and then we get in our separate cars and go home. 

There’s a problem of initiation, and a problem of follow-through.  If we apply the old-timey dance model to dating, here is a simple model of how an ask-out might have happened in the past:*

A.   Would you like to go to the Stag Supper Club on Saturday at 8?  With me?
B.    Yes.
A.   Okay, I’ll pick you up at 7:30.
B.    Sounds great!

Easy, right?

Okay but here is the modern equivalent, and can you just hear the thumping bass in the background?

A.   I’m not doing anything Saturday night.
B.    Oh cool, me either.
A.   I’m off work at 7.
B.    That’s great.  I’m off work at 8.
A.   So.
B.    Yeah.
A.   I was thinking about going to the Stag Supper Club.
B.    Oh yeah?  I’ve heard good things about that place.
A.   Me too but I’ve never been there.
B.    You haven’t?  Huh.
A.   No. Have you?
B.    No I haven’t.  My sister has though.  She said she liked it.
A.   Oh.  I didn’t know you had a sister.
B.    Yep.  She lives in Arkansas.
A.   Hot there isn’t it?
B.    Yes, pretty hot.  Winters aren’t bad though.
A.   There’s a prime rib at the Stag Supper Club I’d like to try.
B.    Me too.  I’ve heard about it.
A.   That’s awesome.  Maybe someday we’ll go together.
B.    Sure, maybe someday.  Like Saturday?
A.   Oh wait I just remembered I had something else going on on Saturday.
B.    Oh, great.    See you later then.
A.  Take it easy.

Are you sweating?  Because I am.  And nothing has even happened yet.  Can someone just turn on the slow music so we can just stand here and hug for a while?  Thanks.

(KEY:  A = man, B = woman)

Thursday, October 7, 2010


...Somehow I run into the craziest things. This is just an example of this week's run-in.

Dear Man Walking Down the Street While Reading a Giant Encyclopedia,

HOW IS THIS EVEN POSSIBLE? I am in shock.  Sir, I had to stop the Jetta and watch this madness happening in front of me. True, Minneapolis is known for it's cooky and sometimes questionable behavior, but you have really outdone it.  Bravo!

I shan't hate on you very long. Actually there are a few things you are to be commended for, my friend. Firstly, pure arm strength. What gumption you have to carry that giant encyclopedia down the street whilst doing a little, shall I say "light" reading?  Not only are you a wise, wise man, but you must spend some time at the gym to have guns like those. Uh-oh...Bravo!

Secondly, your thirst for knowledge is inspiring, young buck. When I was a student in my schooling days, my studies tended to cease the moment my little feet hit the pavement outside of my education facility, but clearly that is not the case for you! No, are a life-long learner, with a thirst for knowledge like a camel in heat. You shan't be confined by the limits of a classroom wall, no, you will bravely march into traffic with your head in a book larger than your head. Carry on bravely, and make sure you look both ways!

Bravo! Kudos! Cheers!



Monday, October 4, 2010

An Open Letter to...MARATHONS!

The Twin Cities Marathon ran by my house on Sunday morning....let me share with you some of my thoughts on it.


Yesterday when I woke up at noon (yes, noon!), all I could hear was screaming coming from outside my window. Of course, my initial thought was that there were people outside that were really excited that I had survived my wild Saturday night, alas..I was wrong. It was for you, runners! Woop-de-frickin' do!They were outside on a Sunday morning screaming for you as you waddled on by.

Good job, you made your point. You've sufficiently made me feel badly about myself, thank you. As I am sleeping in my bed on a Sunday afternoon, cursing the Sun for being so bright, you are showing off and running around. Don't get me wrong, I support your healthy efforts, but couldn't this be done in the countryside somewhere, why do I have to hear it from my window?

Don't you run away...I have another bone to pick with you, Marathon! When I finally peeled myself out of bed and headed out for my day, I wasn't able to leave my neighborhood in the Jetta! It seems that on Marathon day people that drive cars to Minneapolis are chastised. I'm SOOOOO sorry I don't have the time to "run" or "speed-walk" to the matinee of "The Glass Menagerie" that I have tickets for this afternoon. Some people have cars for a reason. It shouldn't take me an HOUR to get to Minneapolis, it should only take me 10-15 minutes. I know you are really into this running thing you are doing, but that doesn't mean that my life has to be put on hold so that you can run down the street. I go on the elliptical at the gym in the morning time, but do you see me shutting down the city so that I can do that? No, you don't.

In conclusion, Marathons, reconsider your methods next year. Perhaps opening up a street for me to drive down would be the first step I would take. The next thing I would do would be get muzzles for the yelling morons sitting on the street. Wanna cheer on the runners at the Marathon next year? I will provide you with a muzzle and a sign that says "Way to Run Fast", this will ensure that I will be able to sleep in next year.