Holy crap this is awesome.

My home town finally gets the national cred it deserves:

Emo Flashback #4

"It's For The Best", by Straylight Run. Courtesy of Cliff Wright... you sexy, v-necked monster.

Emo Flashback #3

Holy crap. There's enough emo in this song to fertilize a football field. Enough emo to choke a mule. It's like a bad high school diary. Like candy corn, it rots my teeth... but I can't stop consuming it.

"Sell All My Old Clothes, I'm Off To Heaven" by Saves the Day



This song makes me think of:
Nate Hall and chorus my senior year at Rocky Grove. It's a miracle I didn't get beat up more often.

Emo Flashback #2

Even if you hate the music, appreciate the recreation of quite possibly the greatest dude film of all time. We are the all singing, all dancing crap of the world.

Emo Flashback

Much like a 'Nam flashback, you'll probably want to put away anything sharp before you induce.



"Konstantine", by Something Corporate. Comment if you cried like a little girl or threw up on your keyboard.

Aspen... The City of Brotherly Love... and Spandex.

For a little over two weeks now, the Chandler and I have resided in one of the most expensive zip codes in the continental United States. The 81611 is a veritable cornucopia of culture, class, and style... none of which the lady and I can afford.

We arrived in Aspen and immediately stayed with Kyle and Sarah Taylor for half of our first week. Kyle and I went to college together, and it was our morning ritual for me to show up at his house, freak out because we were 20 minutes late for class, drink some coffee, realize that we weren't going to make it to class that day, then watch some Homestar Runner and eat some deer meat. Classic. I was, of course, all a-twitter to see the Taylors - especially the new one, Lilah (the new nugget... fresh out the oven), but at the same time a bit apprehensive due to the fact that Sarah had barely left the hospital when Chandler and I began to occupy the guest room. All in all, the experience was like a great 4 night long sleepover, and Kyle and I got to do an ample amount of cuddling. Victory.

Chandler and I then moved all of our 7 possessions into our new apartment over on Waters Avenue (3 blocks from the gondola... punk rock) and began our life of extreme poverty. Remember in Willy Wonka where the entire family eats, sleeps, and withers away in one small room? That's our new place... only smaller. It's about the size of a college dorm room, complete with a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a corner to huddle and cry in. I once read a book about climbing Everest where the author amounts the experience to little more than spending 90% of your time huddled in a small tent staring at your tent-mate listening to their dandruff hit their sleeping bag and 10% of your time dying slowly due to the altitude. Sometimes it feels like that.

...then the rest of the time, I walk outside and mountains tower over me everywhere I look, and I know that in less than 2 months I'll be screaming uncontrollably down the side of those mountains on a pair of secondhand skis with an insane smile on my face with my wife 1000 feet above me trying to think of single, attractive men that she can date after my funeral... and suddenly Aspen is pretty awesome.

I have no job. We have no car. But holy crap the mountains are pretty.



Listen to:
The new Mae... and think of the ocean... you emo s.o.b.

Watch:
How I Met Your Mother

Hip Hop Gangster Shout Out To:
Everyone who we were going to visit on our whirlwind road trip before Shelby Woo betrayed us all by exploding outside of Denver.

Crap.

It was a good week. Lots of driving, lots of friends, lots of flat boring portions of these United States.

But now the road trip is over. A call last night informed us that Shelby Woo the Subaru is dead. Done. Gone to a better place. Kicked the proverbial bucket. Was sent to a nice farm in the country where she can run and play all day long with other Subaru's. The amount it would take to fix her is roughly 75% more than what we originally paid for her... a month and a half ago.

So now we're crashing with Chandler's step aunt and uncle in Denver, trying to figure out what happens with our lives now. No money. No jobs. No home. No clippers to shave this burly man-beard I cultivated for the road trip.

But in the midst of the despair, there is a light that never goes out (freakin' A the Smiths!). I can see the Rocky Mountains from the window next to me, there's a Chipotle less than a mile away, and I happen to have $10 in my pocket. The Good Lord's taken care of us so far, and I've always wanted to go dumpster diving.

Things. Just. Got. Interesting.




The Illest of Hip Hop Gangster Shoutouts To:
Lila Jeanne Taylor, born yesterday to Kyle and Sarah. Welcome to Thunderdome little nugget.