I don’t know what the best part is. Could be that the guy’s name is Bubb Rubb. Or it might be the way they almost hit two parked cars and then blow through a stop sign at the end.


Besides the unfortunate name (Uncle Barky? Are we at the carnival in ‘Big’?) Ed Bark’s new blog looks great. As I mentioned previously, Ed Bark is one of the 111 DMN writers and staffers who *chose* to take Belo’s buyout offer.

Uncle Barky’s Blog: Exhibit A as to why the internet is fascinating.

I mean, think about it. His last day was Friday. The blog was up and running yesterday. Had these buyouts occurred even 10 years ago, we all would have woken up one day to a gutted newspaper. Familar faces and familar writing would have been gone and there would be no way (outside of published magazine articles or books) to hear the other side of the story.

Now, not even two days after leaving the DMN, Bark has provided his readership a new forum to read his writing. And not only a new forum, but one without the journalistic constraints that shackled him under Belo, i.e. an innane ban on covering local news in the SIXTH BIGGEST television market in the country. Isn’t it great when you live in one of the ten biggest cities in America and there’s only one daily newspaper, whose owners and publishers just so happen to own the ABC affiliate? Good times.

Anyway, the internet is doubtlessly polluted with a bunch of shit not worth reading; something like this that makes me thankful for its existence.

Well, this and youTube. And ESPN.com. And Literati.

¬†… and with about 30 seconds left I heard Al Michaels¬†say something that I can’t ever remember an NFL announcer saying before.

The Redskins were about to score a completely meaningless touchdown with 30 seconds left. Michaels categorized it as such and then followed that up with, “Althought it MAY be meaningful to CERTAIN people.”

The over/under on the game was 39. The score was 27-10.

So way to go, Al Michaels, for having the guts to mention the plight of gamblers. Kinda.

Also, “The Graduate” is on in the other room and the music is great.

Also, my sister went to ACL this weekend. And because it wasn’t 109 degrees like it was last year, I’m jealous. Though we did go see Phoenix on Friday and they were kick ass.

This blog entry sucks, but after two weeks off the job I’ve gotta get back in the game somehow.

Our old apartment almost burned down about a year ago today.

It was a pretty normal day. I was sitting at my desk on my computer. Russ was sitting on his bed, with his computer on his lap. Strangely enough, I was playing Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” on iTunes.

The song was almost over when the fire alarm went off. For some reason, our first reaction was that it was a false alarm. The ringing persisted, however, and I decided to get up and go in the hall to have a look.

Quickly it became apparent that it wasn’t a false alarm. If I had to pinpoint the warning signs, I’d say it was either the water building up in the hallway, the smoke pouring out of the apartment down the hall from us, or our neighbor running out of her apartment covered in soot and water. Maybe it was a combination of all three of those things.

She ripped the fire extinguisher off the wall, handed it to me, and queried, “Do you know how to use this?”

I had the chance to be a hero.

But instead of calmly reading the instructions and killing off the fire single-handedly, I panicked and handed it off (along with my chances for fame and glory) to our neighbor Corey. By this time Russ was out in the hallway, too. The three of us gamely led a charge into her apartment to turn off her breaker. Well, mainly Corey and Russ. I hung around in the doorway because I’m a huge pussy.

Once all the breakers were off, and the fire was under control, our neighbor came out of her apartment looking wild-eyed like a caged panther, turned to Russ and said, “James, I’d like to thank ya for tha banana bread.”

Russ put confused face on and gamely responded, “You’re welcome.”

So anyway, to make a long story short, we had to evacuate. Four fire trucks and an ambulance came in order to make the situation even more confusing.

The apartment below our neighbor’s flooded.

Her apartment was covered in three inches of water and reeked of smoke for the next two months. She and her husband moved out shortly thereafter.

The moral of this story (well, besides that if you live in Sherman there will be a kick-ass fire in the downtown area about once a month) is don’t start cooking a grilled cheese sandwich, take a handul of Vicodin, and pass out.

Way to go Nancy. These five Oxycontin are for you.

I have a friend. Let’s call him Derek.

Three years ago Derek and I decided to paddle an inflatable canoe down a stretch of the Red River. In order to practice for the big trip, we took a canoe out onto the stormy seas of the Duck Pond in Coppell, Texas.

While paddling around in a big circle, we happened upon a gray and brown duckling, who was valiantly trying to swim and stay alive despite having its entire left wing and most of its left side chewed off by an unknown predator.

I called out to Derek, “So should we call the vet and maybe take the little guy in to get stitched up?”

Derek wasted no time or thought in responding, “No, we shouldn’t call the vet, we should just put it out of its misery.”

Without giving me even a second to respond, Derek raised his plastic $12.99 paddle from Wal-Mart over his head and with lightning-quick speed and unrivaled fury brought the paddle down on the poor duckling. Maybe three times.

Stunned, I sat helpless in the canoe.

Twenty seconds later the now lifeless duckling sank to a watery grave. With lust in his eyes, Derek turned to me and uttered the now immortal phrase:

“Well, we couldn’t save its life, but we did kill it.”


I have named myself Prime Minister of the “Anti-Myspace Coalition.”

The reasons behind this stance are hard-hitting and provacative, if few in number.

For one thing, the layout is atrocious. It’s as if whomever is in charge of Myspace features has no concept of spatial reasoning, which is not a good trait to lack if you’re in charge of web design for a company that has like 400 million users.

This brings us to reason number two. Included in those 400 million users is every single woman in my office. Most of these women are old. Half of them are pregnant. We have a busy office. How these women have to time hit up Myspace instead of working or going to Lamaze classes is beyond me.

Reason number three is related to the “stalkerish” aspects of Mypsace, though it’d be hypocritical of me to criticize Myspace on simply those grounds. Granted, I spend time on Facebook every day, though I’m not pregnant and I don’t have phones to answer, so whatever. No, my problem lies with the fact that Myspace is just as “stalkerish” as Facebook, only without the safety netting of having to be/have been enrolled in an accredited school.

And let’s face it, that safety net might be small, but it’s something.

So there. I’m anti-Myspace.

Bonus video:

Until T.O. Owens and I are gonna go hit up some Chick-Fil-A and then head to Ghostbar.

« Previous PageNext Page »