Up, up, and away!

What the hell has been happening to gas prices? You'd think half the oil wells around the world started pumping out tang instead of oil. I may have to go back to siphoning gas from my neighbor's car at this rate. Soon a gallon of gas will be comparable with an ounce of silver. This has got to stop.

Fortunately, I have a plan. It's quite simple, really. I've begun designing a car that runs on an alternative form of fuel. Pixie sticks. I've seen one quarter of a pixie stick keep a 7 year old boy active for a week. Why not a car? I'll call my new automobile the Pixilator and it will run on one pixie stick a day.

There will be some kinks that need to be worked out. Currently you have a fuel gauge on your vehicle. The Pixilator's fuel gauge won't work as it can bonk on a moment's notice. The Pixilator may not stop when you hit the brakes or even if you turn off the ignition. The Pixilator may become highly volitile or very emotional. Do not use the Pixilator when under the influence.

I'll let you know how it turns out. I'm sure Bush is shitting himself in fear of this new piece of technology. Mwa ha ha!

*D.S.Trosdahl~~

The uselessness of Clint Howard

No name embodies pure, enriched apathy, quite like Clint Howard. The problem, besides his poor acting chops and a face that only Abe Vigoda could love, is that he pops up in movies you least expect. There he is, a sleezy imbecile in the Waterboy. Suddenly your watching Ice Cream Man, and there he is again, a sleezy imbecile killer. And again, during the Grinch. A sleezy, boot-licking, imbecile. The list is mind-numblingly long. Did you know he is the voice of Roo in Winnie the Pooh? God, another useless fact that you really didn't want to know about the most worthless actor in Hollywood.

Clint is the substance you find in the lint trap of your dryer. It's there, everyday, completely pointless, making you angry for no real reason.

So there's Ron, the better-looking (although that's like saying the Phantom of the Opera is better looking than Quazimoto), better actor (ditto), and the more talented brother. Ron made Clint. If not for Ron, Clint would be the creepy janitor in a Junior Highschool in Virginia somewhere. My brother-in-law is an actor, and a damn good one. My only hope is that one day, I can be the Clint to his Ron Howard. I'll have to work on some thinning hair, growing out my forehead, and developing the voice of an eel.

What did writing this blog teach me? Don't, whatever you do, watch The Dentist 2. *Full Body Shudder*

*D.S.Trosdahl~~

God is too tired to smite.

So this Easter I started reflecting on a few things from the bible. One of the things I noticed is that God hasn't done any major smiting since the days of Moses. What happened? There are lots of good canidates out there, if one puts ones mind to it.

Al Qaida: I can see how this is a difficult one. Even God has trouble finding Osama bin Ladin. Perhaps a plague outbreak in the boondock areas of Aghanistan and Pakistan, if I may suggest?

My mailman: When you are a mailman, but you are too fat to get your ass out of the car to put a package on my front porch, you deserve to be smited.

Debt collecting companies: If there is a more sleazy, less rewarding occupation for all of mankind they both need to smiting.

That guy with the horrible Australian accent on the Outback Steakhouse Commercials: I feel bile enter my mouth now anytime someone mentions the word "steakhouse".

Greensboro, NC and surrounding area: Someone needs to drop some fire and brimstone on that place. Especially Kernersville. The place resembles my dog's anal cavity for some reason.

Whoever created clingwrap: God, that stuff pisses me off. "Let's create some plastic to keep food fresh. However, the dispenser will be a big, jagged blade that only cuts hands, not plastic. And so when the user tries to dispense a piece it will cling upon itself, creating a ball of plastic that will only partly cover the food." That person is godless.

My co-worker, Todd: He thinkes he's the smiter, but he shall be the one to be smotted, er smitten.

Maybe it's a good idea I don't have the power to smite. Wait a second. George W. has the football not too far from him...

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Miami Vice President

Dick Cheney, sticking with the old Bush credo of "Shoot first, ask questions later", blasted a lawyer a couple of weeks ago. It is rumored that after the incident, the vice president rifled through Harry Whittington's coat pockets, searching in vain for weapons of mass destruction.

It was said that Mr. Whittington suffered a mild heart attack when one of the pellets struck his chest. I have to say, I would have a mild heart attack if I saw one of the Bush Adminstration holding any kind of a weapon.

What a stroke of genius! Let's send the vice president over to Afghanistan/Pakistan. Tell him he's looking for quail. He'll find Osama Bin Ladin in no time!

*D.S.Trosdahl~~

Baby on (Dash) Board

Here comes the next stop in Britney Spears' transition from glowing pop-star, to white-trash queen. As if marrying loser-rapper-wannabe-trailer-boy Kevin Fedderline wasn't bad enough, you become the mother of his child. Next you hold said child on your lap as you drive from starbucks. In Britney's defense car seats are friggin' expensive. Not only that, but it looks very tacky in your 2006 Escalade.

Britney has released a statement through People Magazine explaining her actions. She says while her bodyguard was in Starbucks getting her a coffee, the paparazzi began to swarm her car while she took her son out of his car seat to wait for her coffee. When the bodyguard returned Britney feared for her child's safety and so drove away saying, "I instinctively took measures to get my baby and me out of harm's way."

So driving down the highway holding a coffee in one hand, the kid in the other, driving with your knees is a "measure to get my baby and me out of harm's way"? The lack of common sense of people sometimes scares me.




*D.S. Trosdahl~~

5 Things learned January of 2006

1.) The first six cups of coffee are good. But there's something about that seventh or eighth cup that doesn't set well with the stomach.

2.) Holding a fart in is like holding your breath for a minute. It's not worth it. At some point your going to need to make up for all the breaths you didn't take.

3.) How many cop dramas and lawyer shows do you really need on TV at one time? Is it me or are there like 8 named CSI or Law and Order?

4.) Candy jewlery is gross. However, it's cheap. "Happy Valentine's Day honey!"

5.) If you are going to go postal, at least have the guts to shoot yourself first.

Bush sucks
*D.S.Trosdahl~~

Valentine's Pay
Here it comes. That magically day of being overcharged for everything from flowers, to stuffed bears. How did this even become a holiday? "Well, St. Valentine died in prison, but he sent out cards to all his followers. To mark his death, let's sell over-priced cards and boxes of assorted chocolates!" F*ck corporate America!

What an awful day to be a kid, eh? Some of you more popular people may not remember back in third grade, when we had to build those valentine's day card holders, made from old reebok boxes, to hold all of our cards in. It kind of sucks when you only have three cards in that basturd, one from the teacher, one from mom, and the other says "To Stacy", so obviously someone mistook your box for one of the cheerleaders (don't cry Dan). F*ck corporate America!

How about highschool? Girls waiting for someone to ask them to the Valentine's Day dance because they don't want to go stag and boys getting rejected because they haven't got enough self-confidence to fill a peanut shell. F*ck corporat... Wait, that one isn't their fault. Oh well, f* corporate America and high school!

For the women: Guys will break up with you just before Valentine's Day to avoid having to buy presents, et al. F*ck corporate America!

I think they should change the name from Valentine's Day to National Obligatory Sex Day. Because If I'm going to buy all this stuff, then I want some sex. No excuses!

Oh yeah. F*ck corporate America! Bush sucks.
*D.S.Trosdahl~~

The Super Blah
Did you hear that sound? It's the sound of advertisers everywhere groaning in discust.
This year's superbowl features the Pittsburg Steelers, the sixth seed in the AFC, versus the Seattle Seahawks the top seed in the NFC. The saddest part, Seattle, a city known better for its coffee and suicide rate than its sports' teams, is predicted by most to lose the superbowl.

Of course I'm a Viking fan. I'm 25. So, I've never been able to watch the superbowl with any personal feelings on the line. The superbowl is merely a reason for me to eat and drink way too much and wake up on a work day feeling like ass. Not only that, it's the only time during the entire year where I'd rather watch the advertisements instead of the game.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have some beer to drink and commercials to watch.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

Tiny tini's aren't tiny

Holy shit. My wife just made me a dirty martini. What a dirty martini is, for those of you that don't know, is taking a fifth of vodka, sprinkling a little olive juice in it, garnishing with a pair of olives and serving. I think my car can run a hundred miles on two of them. I swear my chest hair grew a couple of inches. Thank you Mrs. Trosdahl. You are the olive... I mean apple of my eye!

*D.S. Trosdahl~~

King Kloooooooong

I can’t believe this is my first post of 2006. I’m neglectful and it’s just not right. Anyhow, over the break I got a chance to see the much hyped, hugely anticipated King Kong. Whilst the special effects were good, and the action scenes were suspenseful, Peter Jackson needs to shut the f*ck up. Good God almighty! The thing stretched out like laffy taffy. I swear I needed ass replacement surgery by the end of it.

Now some movies can last a day and a half and you don’t even realize/care... King Kong was not one of these. It reminded me a lot of Lord of the Rings Return of the King. Pete had to have dozens of those, slow motion, close up, reaction shots. You know the ones I’m talking about. They happen every time Naomi Watts’s character so much as sneezes, we have to have a close up look at the monkey’s face. He holds the shots for way to f*cking long, making you and everyone else in the theatre uncomfortable to the point of squirming.

Peter Jackson did us no favors during the course of this movie, seeming to not cut anything… Except for one of the most important parts. How in the living hell did a rickety ass freighter carry a several ton monkey across the Indian and Atlantic oceans to New York City? After we see Kong hit with two big assed bottles of chloroform and not even slow down, Jack Black’s character hits him with one bottle that magically knocks him out almost instantaneously. The scene then shifts to New York. What the hell happened? I want to know how they transported this guy to the other side of the world on a ship that had been hit with rocks and the crew was dumping anything that wasn’t bolted down into the ocean to conserve weight.

Other Points of interest:

*Jack Black needs to stick with comedy. He has the dramatic acting chops of Bozo the Clown. “It was beauty that killed the beast.” What better way to end a three hour, tortuous movie then with the cheesiest line I have ever heard uttered on film.

*At the end of the movie, we’re gearing up for the big battle between Kong and the airplanes. Suddenly Kong is ice-skating? Jesus. Can’t we just end the movie already? By this time I want the army to kill Kong, to put me out of my misery.

*Colin Hanks sighting. Not just anyone can make it in the movie industry… Unless your dad’s name is Tom Hanks.

*So dinosaurs huh? Looks like they stole one of Lost’s plotlines for this season (Scratch off Matthew Fox fighting raptors).

I'm going to take a bottle of sleeping pills and lay down for a while.

*D.S. Trosdahl~~