Why folks my age are mostly dumb

I blame the creation and marketing of games like Gooey Louie.




"Pick his nose and pull the boogers one by one, but be careful! Pick the wrong gooey and Louie's brains pop out!"

A game that is more inane that Mouse Trap? Commendable and disturbing.

-kevvvved up

It's My Birthday and I Don't Know What To Do.

Thanks to Sam Brown at explodingdog.com who makes me feel beautiful and not for this world.

-kev22

Apparently, Washington State Runs On:

How strange,

-kev'm

Culverism #88....

..."When running a nationally recognized restaurant chain, you should probably invest in some descent advertising"

Really, though, I ate at a Culver's this afternoon. For those of you who are unfamiliar, it is a northern-type fast food restaurant, more or less the Minn-con-nois equivalent of a Sheridan's or a Tastee-Freez. They serve food that is at least on par with other chains or in some cases far superior. They serve Butterburgers, which are not so disgusting as they sound (this is actually the tip of the iceberg in terms of problematic word choice). They have frozen custard instead of ice cream. It's delcious.

So, why am I writing you about this benign, tasty, fattening establishment?

Mostly due to two of the slogans that get written on much of the chain's packaging and labels.

The first is:

"Get Culverized"

What? Ew. I think they mean get pulverized by Culver's. By which I mean I think they mean to drop 80 pounds Double Deluxe Culver on your head or surprise you with a 40-gallon custard-shower while you're in the bathtub. Then some pops out and screams, "You just got Culverized!!!" and you're supposed to give them a big thumbs-up.

The second slogan, which was posted on a note about getting pints of the flavor of the day for $3.39 was:

"Taste how much we care"

I will not debase myself by commenting on this. Let's just say that it could be gross in any number of contexts.

In tandem, these phrases make me either want to create a Culver's themed super-villain or to make a Culver's themed sex-tape. Starring someone who is not me. Because, um, yuck. And I have no idea how someone would get "Culverized" in either of these instances.

To sum up, Culver's should start advertising their hamburgers in a way that do not make me think of weird sex fetishes and/or destruction.



Join team Scoopie,
-Kevburger.

ps. www.getculverized.com

Know Justice

Know Peace

I am tired of seeing...

Recumbent Bicycles.



Quit slouching, fuckers.

without remorse,
-kevvvvvfffnmmm

Do Not, Lest Ye Be

So last year, around late July, a car drove onto the sidewalk of the Cliquot Club, where I work. The driver had apparently passed out and lost control of her vehicle, plowing through all of our patio sitting. Twelve people were injured. One person was killed.

You can read about it here:
http://www.startribune.com/local/11556836.html

Sadly, she was a regular customer.

Even more so, was that there was no discernable cause for her loss of consciousness. Toxicology showed she had not been drinking or on drugs. Medical examinations found no cause. In the wake of this evidence, 8 months later, the city attorney has found that there is no reason to press charges against her.

There are lots of conjectures out there as to why she might have lost control. She was taking Lunesta at the time. She is a regular drinker. But none of this is conclusive.

So. Should she have been charged?

She was not even issued a traffic citation. She killed a person and still has a clean driving record.

A Black man had a similar incident in north Minneapolis, killing a young girl. He will be in prison for eight years.

However, is the relative punishment of others a reason to convict others guilty of similar crimes? She is presumably clean, at least in conscience. Perhaps the guilt will be enough of a punishment.

But she came in yesterday for a decaf coffee.

**BUH?**


Shit is real, brah.

-kansas kevin.

R..Z..A

How could you not love him?

Forget Nova videos. My future homeschooled children are listening to rap music in their biolo-creationist-dinosaur class.

My mind flashed back to the early moon
When I was just a sperm cell in the fallopian tube
In the mist of a state of triple darkness
Going through a struggle so I could exist
Avoiding everything that came within my path
As I watch other sperm cells get ripped in half
One out of a million completes the job
And for the other sperm cells the womb is a grave yard
Though my travels I had to pass through
Alot of battles and violent hassles
Cause inside the womb I was a foreign object
I'm like a new nigga walking through the project
Trouble, everywhere I turn
Damn its a struggle just being a sperm
cell, so I attempt to prevail
I guess the womb is the first stage of hell
Now here I am in the danger zone
My head and my tail, my 23 chromosomes
But then again yo it can't be that bad cause my dad
He could have used a body bag
And if so then my tomb would have been the trash can inside my moms bedroom
But they was fucking, they was true to this
And here a go on a mission to the uterus
A million mother fuckers tried to race ahead
But I was the one that fertilized the egg
Then I thought then I was safe
Because I reached home base
But oh no my job wasn't done
In fact my troubles had only begun life as a struggle
Life is the struggle
Life is the struggle

Today is Malaria Day.

Thank you "Freedom From Hunger" mass e-mails I've been receiving since I started college. (how I got on, anyone's guess...same with how to get off).

Happy Malaria Day,
-k(ill)vin

Whatever happened...

...to Trick Daddy?

And the rest of the Slip-N-Slide Crew for that matter?

Take it to the house,
-k v n
e i

Drink Absolut

Here's why:

In N' Out Burger

Um....

Fuck. Yes.

-kevbo

Ps. I will not be attending UC San Diego. Too many jerks in poor-fitting clothing with charred skin and saggy boobs. I am officially still of the opinion that California sucks a lot.

The Japanese Just Do it Better

Cartoons, Movies, Cars, Candy, Sexual Fetishes.

Rock and Roll Music

I saw The Boredoms on Tuesday night. Oh. My. god. The show was absolutely incredible.

My ears hurt the following morning, in the best way possible. This band stretched what could be called "American Music" to the limits of my imagination. I fell into a trance at least three seperate times. My friend Justin, who I'm not sure was going to be into it, was in total awe. The music was noise. The noise was music. I have never seen a concert (popular, orchestral, otherwise) that was played with greater precision. It was not the best show I've ever been too, all things considered; however, it might have been the best performed music I have ever witnessed

The band was five members. Eye, lead singer (most of his vocals made use of a delay pedal), played two glowing balls that he held in his fists that made different frequencies depending on what height he held them at. Three drummers. Three...incredible...drummers playing extremely complex rhythms in perfect unison or perfect compliment, depending on the moment. They were all extremely different (homeless looking guy, weird hippie woman, business man on the weekend???), and all absolutely technically proficient. Another guy who was adjusting instruments and running the electronics. He seemed very valuable.

Which brings me to my personal favorite part of the show. 8...fucking...telecasters. WELDED TOGETHER. That's right, it was like those layered organs, but with GUITARS. And no, folks, that's not all. This octo-tar was played with STICKS. Occasionally Eye would step away from his synthesizer grab some drumsticks or something that looked like a broomhandle and whack the thing. It made beautiful sounds. Also, even though it looked like it was being played with reckless abandon, it was always in time with the trio. I think part of the value of the tuning-guy was that he was setting up the guitars to play different chords based on the tunings so there wasn't any fingering involved. Just whack one of the eight sets of six strings, whose chords were all in harmony, and nice things came as a result.

I left the show a little deaf and a lot euphoric. Thank you very much for your fascination with U.S. culture, Japan. You seem like very nice people.

Where's your baby?
-Kafin

Stop Bothering:

Michael Jackson
Brittany Spears
Charlie Manson
Governor Spitzer's Wife


I'm tired of the media frenzy. CNN should not be covering this ridiculous nonsense. There's a longer list, but for the (crazy, crazy, harmlessly crazy, tired and hurt) folks above it's probably very very tiring. They're not doing anything to anybody, leave them alone.

For the other lists of celebs (Paris, Branglina, Sen. Craig) the attention is wanted, beneficial, or deserved, so, whatever. But outside of these cases, I'd really really like it if they'd stop wasting their, my, and everyone else's time. Fucking media.

---

Personally, today has not been a good day.

I had to sit by a very, very large person on the plane. In Dallas, an elderly man squished my danish. I was way pissed.

heather mills was just awarded 40 million dollars of paul mccartney's money (according to headline news). thank god someone told me.

-sir kevin of kevton

Unhappiest Place on Earth (outside of Disneyworld)

That place is the mo'fuckin' airport.

I'm sitting in O'hare International as of right...now.

I just spent 7 dollars on a beer. Then I ate McDonalds. You would be hard pressed to find unhappier employees. Miserable fathers of 5 read Stephen King. It's Spring Break weekend, girls in the 14-17 year old age bracket are going to Mexico to get sunburns and nasty braids. Fat men carry tennis racquets.

Despite all this, I just saw things that I wouldn't see elsewhere.

In this order:
A man with 2-inch ear hair.
A woman that was dressed to KILL (big heels, ridiculously short yet classy skirt). She pulled it off in a way I haven't ever seen.
A midget.

I plan to escape this with a rather large dose of dramamine and another 7 dollar drink.

Don't say nothin'. Jes bob your head like you get it.

-kansas

copy::paste

As a rule, I don't usually read my school's paper.

(sorry lady)

But yesterday I was told about some incredible shit. There is a "dating advice" column in the paper called Dr. Date. Usually, it's an vapid person asking an inane question and receiving some pretty useless advice. Sometimes people write in to be funny.

They never are.

But then Feb 29th happened. This is what happened:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dear Dr. Date,
My name is "Mike" but all my boyz call me Fizz Cat. It's actually kind of a sad story; I sometimes "fizz" when I see a pretty lookin' hunny.

Anyways, here's my problem: I'm 6'1" with a hot body, I'm athletic, I love to work out, I play the guitar incredibly, and I love to serenade the hunnies. Oh, I almost forgot: I am a proud Eagle Scout and I love the outdoors.

I know you're thinking "What's the problem here?" Well, for some odd reason the hunnies just don't want a piece of da Fizz.

I set out this semester with a new plan to just sit back and chill, drink, smoke, lift weights, play guitar and let the hunnies come to me.

However, my plan isn't working - no hunnies have even noticed me. The only number I've gotten was from a fellow Eagle Scout wanting to go "explore" Mother Nature.

Dr. Date, I need your help. Why won't the hunnies come? Please help this 19-year-old virgin in fear of never tasting the supple nectar of a good lookin' hunny.
-Fizz Cat

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DD's answer is not worth posting.

And on March 6th:

Dear Dr. Date,
It's Fizz again, and I just wanted to tell you that I have some issues with the advice you gave me.

I scored with two dime-piece hunnies last week, and that was all because I was playing the Fizz Cat card.

I know that being "Mike" may work for impressing my grandma, but to really score with da hunnies - I NEED TO BE FIZZ CAT!

Fizz is a sexual being whose quest is to score with the hunnies; Mike is just an Eagle Scout.

When I play the role of Fizz Cat, I feel as if nothing can harm me and that I am invincible.

I have a desire to be with good lookin' hunnies and I know my only chance at doing so is as DA GREAT FIZZ.

Though, I do appreciate your taking time to help me with my love life, and I have a serious question for you.

I have been practicing kung fu and my trainer brought up a deep question for me and I am not sure which way to go about it.

He said that, to attack your prey, you need to either be fierce and strong like a mountain gorilla or be quick and touchy like a spider monkey.

So I was with this hunny on Saturday, who was a real fine looker, when a problem arose.

I couldn't decide if I should let my inner gorilla out and start yelling and pounding my chest or if I should jump her quick and touch her all over like a spider monkey.

Dr. Date, please help me. Should I be Fizz Cat the gorilla or Fizz Cat the spider monkey?
-Fizz Cat

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Actually, reading it again, it's not all that funny. Crap. Well, too late now.

;;Publishhhhh-d::

-kaykaykaykay

Lookin' hot, smellin' good, groovin' like...

...I'm from the hood.

I love Destiny's Child. I am not afraid to admit that.

What I do not love. The word Yummy. I fucking hate the word yummy. Unless it involves Korean style barbecue ribs. In this and only this case is the word yummy acceptable.

In other news, Kevtronics.com is actually a real thing. It is a new company based out of Fairfield, CA. They build computers and consider themselves a "high-tech handyman service".

They must be destroyed.

-Kevtronics (incorporated)

Stuff I (kind of) like (sometimes)

Thank god for Zoe, who showed me this website:

www.stuffwhitepeoplelike.com

before there was an absolute E'SPLOSION among my friends and on the interwebs. An hour after Zoe recommended it to me (I was hating whitey pretty much that whole day) Megan Clark put it no the Facebook wall. Then I read about it on an online magazine. Then I heard about it from another friend. Then the source for most uptodate ultimate frisbee news, who frequently rails against the hippie culture of a sport he loves posted it the address to take a shot at the white liberals who play.

After reading the thing, I cried.

Then I laughed.

Then I thought about why I was laughing.

Then I cried some more.

Well-off white liberals are lame people. Am I one of those? Kind of. Sometimes. Significantly less so that a lot of folks I know.

I'm not sure that makes it ok.

I'ma go drink some coffee, engage in a difficult break-up, listen to some indie-rock music, and think about what's best for poor people.

Then I'm going to cry again.

Loving the Beastie Boys til I die,
-ralvek

Warm...cold...wet...

It's spring-y outside today.

The snow is a strange texture.

If you had a fuck-ton of flavored syrup and an enormous styrofoam bucket, I'm pretty sure you could make Minnesota into a massive Slush-puppy.



-kebkebkebkebkeb

Some Phun Wif Phacial

Prepare for the hott hott hotttness....


El Chongo!








El Guapo!













El Creepo!




In some other news without photos of me, I just got the newest Re-up Gang mixtape (thankyouthankyouthankyou Zoe).

Pros:

1/The members of Clipse/Re-up are dope dope dope.
2/They use the "Grrrrrrl Tur(unitintelligible)" sample on like every track.
3/They got it for cheap.

Cons:
1/Like EVERY song is about dope. Or crack. Or the transition from the former to the latter. For rappers who shout about how "we can all shine" the destruction that drugs has caused in communitites all over sure doesn't come up too much.
2/ Not enough Wimp-Wamp.

Have a grrrrrreat V-Day, but try to avoid those V-Diseases.

What it do?

-k.lee.terry

Everybody do a little dance!

Mitt Romney is officially not running for president any more!

Farewell you robotic jerk-ass!!!!!*

Now if only everyone else running didn't suck so bad, que no?

-Kevimon (Kevital Monsters)


note: that used to say "cock-sucker". After some folks pointing out my hypocrisy and a reflection, I've decided cocksucker is not a very nice word. I don't think I'll use it anymore.

Words of wisdom came to me in half-sleep

They were:

"Being with muffins is definitely better than being with robots"

Not being one to let this thought, which I think occurs similarly in thousands of people every day (maybe not about muffins and robots specifically), pass me by I decided to publish it on the internet so i could never forget. Or so I could delete it next week.

After that, I thought that if you have a piece of sweet-bread (banana, cranberry, pumpkin, etc), you should cut it up and arrange it artistically before you eat it. Only sweet bread, no other bread occurred to me.

-Kevrawr

Someone's comin' fer me...

I found $20 in the hallway of my apartment building today.

I can't help the sneaking suspicion that someone planted it there. Waiting. Waiting for some unsuspecting dupe to commit an act of ill-will such that the rightful owner of said twenty dollars would come back to the place they might have lost their money, hypothetically, and not find the money. As a result, that poor victim, theoretically imagined by my fictional assailant, would be crushed..

So, as punishment for failing this intricate test of ethics, I'm gradually becoming more paranoid that I'll wake up tomorrow morning, or some other morning, you never know with psychos like the one I've imagined, that I'll wake up tomorrow morning with a portrait of Andrew Jackson carved into my left buttock.

For roughly 16 cups of coffee, I believe I'm willing to take that chance.

-kev-lo

My adoring fans must be sincerely dissapointed.

Alright. So.

Conspicuous absence is the way I start off kevtronics....BAM! Sorry about that, I know that a couple of you...well, the couple of people that read this...have been asking about why no posts. Cause I been busy. There's a draft saved that I'll complete, there's also a New Year's post that's been worked out (see: up) in my head. Those will be up shortly.

Mean time, welcome to my favorite nickname and new blog. I've decided it will not be about what I have done recently. Because fuck you that's private.

It will probably be about stuff that occurs to me. Because fuck you I'matell you even if you wish I would keep it private.

Now, in total contradiction of what I just wrote, here's what's kept me from writing "blog" "posts" (is this internet "slanguage" appropriate?)

Well, first, the reason that I'm writing this in the, first, place is because I'm drinking Turning Leaf White Zinfandale (special reserve) year 2006* straight from the bottle. Notice that typos are absent from the post. Instead, my use of written language just gets weirder than it already is. I find it amusing. You probably don't...see paragraphs 3 and 4 for the appropriate inappropriate suggestion.

*4.96 at the Kansas City Airport Wal-Mart

So, over the course of the last little while I've driven (not flown...very, very different) to:

Minneapolis, MN
Davenport, IA
Minneapolis, MN
Manhattan, KS
Odessa, TX
Clovis, NM
Odessa, TX
Manhattan, KS
Minneapolis, MN
Manhattan, KS
Odessa, TX
Kansas City, MO
Manhattan, KS

What was I thinking? I have no idea.

That was the introduction to my new blog address. Apparently I am a drunken driver. Also, the old site was more conducive to entertaining writing. Fuck.

Fuck,

-Kevene

60 Hrs and a high rate of interest.

"Juice! Juuuuuuuuice!...Juice?"

"I like being close to you mi hijo, but if you don't stop licking my back, you're out of the bed"

*sniffle sniffle....HACKHACKHACK...spit*

"I don't even like the fantastic four anymore...I like George Lopez"

I'm writing from a hotel in Odessa, Texas. 2 days I ago I was in Minneapolis, Minnesota. 3 days ago I was in Davenport, Iowa. I moved between each of these places in a car. Over the course of the last week I have travelled 3757.5 miles. A little over 60 hours on mostly interstate.

The quotations that appear at the top of the page are the sounds that I wil hear as attempt to fall asleep on my pull out couch. I feel a little bit adrift.

************************************************************************

That was a snippet from my X-mas travels. I don't remember what else I was planning on writing, but adorable little kid sleep-mumbles are too good not to post.