A Taste of Things To Come...

A Little Treat

Viraemia:

Amazing death/tech band from AZ. New EP, here for sampling in one track. If you like it, you should probably buy it, it's cheap and they are crazy. 10-String bass, wut? Yeah, that happened.

http://www.myspace.com/viraemiaaz

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?ynnnmfyhm3n

What Really Happened: 17-18 July.

Let me just start off by saying that I punched Mikey in his little hobbit face this weekend. I did it as a friend, as a mentor, and as a wing man of the most supreme kind. But here I am, already getting ahead of myself.

How does one keep busy during the summer? Real simple: party hard. And that isn't hard when you are both attractive and powerful. I happen to be both. You, silly child, are probably neither. Read on to find out what life is like on the greener side...

Friday night was a BIG NIGHT. There was a party I had been invited to, one of many actually, that I planned to attend. After a brief pregame with my distinguished compatriot, Barry, we decided it would be a good idea to check things out. Well, fail. Worst party ever compared to the hype, especially. We arrived late, of course, as anyone of any importance does. It's not your job as a notable figure to help the hosts warm up the event, they should be prepared to carry it in ready for your arrival. This party failed to do that in the heaviest way.


When we arrived we found that we were not the only ones who had been deceived by the promise of a most righteous party. Our good friends Stan, Andrew, and Mikey had also arrived and were already in the full swing of the evenings activities: enjoying the company of sexually confused adolescent males from the great Wisconsin northwoods. No wonder one of them was wearing a UW-Stout shirt. Unlike my wonderful friends, that abject human can never hope to attain a degree from UW-Eau Claire.
If you note the picture above, both Barry and Mikey are keenly interested in something that is NOT the party, not a good sign for you, party hosts. FAIL. Lurch in the background is having a killer time though for sure.

It was also brought to my attention that Barry and Mikey were wearing the same shirt, a fact disputed by both. In the end, Barry's Japanese paper denim jeans won out.

All in all, I'd rather sit at home while flogging myself and singing in Latin than experience neanderthals splashing about in beer puddles and sitting in chairs on top of kitchen tables shouting to no one and everyone.

But things did pick up eventually just a little bit and saved the evening from being a complete loss. You see, in addition to being athletes, Stan and I both train as skilled fighters. While we were standing outdoors, preparing to depart, one fellow we knew stormed out of the house and at the command of "ATTACK!", Stan did just that. Except in the manner of a friend, he allowed his victim to go, only to be thrown like a doll. During this moment a dark thing happened: Stan's last beer had been tipped over. Thrown into a rage like I have seldom seen before or since Stan snatched up his beer and in the most primal scream yelled "WHO DID THIS!!?", then turned and hurled his beer into the street. Immediately our friend sensed this a provocation and gave Stan the good old Goldberg spear! WCW what!? Slowly staggering to his feet, Stan was handed not one, but two beers. His response? "Well now I have to shotgun this one."


And that, my friends and lesser-thans, was Friday night.

Now, on to Saturday and the main event:


This is the image that will forever be imprinted on my mind when I reflect on the events of this particular Saturday evening. The day started slow and only got worse when it came to light that AT&T sucks more than anything else in the world right now. So many texts that didn't even go through. Fortunately the slow night in the party department gave me some time to work on being destructive to/around the property I live at. And also play some midnight-parking-lot baseball. You probably can't even throw a baseball, you girl.



As soon as I did arrive at the "party", I was ushered quickly to the kitchen by an alert and rather spry Stan. In the kitchen, laying on the floor was a shouting and belligerent little hobbit, known to his friends as Mikey. Mikey is very dumb when he drinks, in a good way. Much like how all of you are dumb in each and every way at every waking moment of your small, sad lives. As a result, Mikey has cut and re-opened and re-cut his right hand each weekend for the past month. A skill to be sure. In the picture above you may note that his re-opened hand also happens to be full of sausage and ketchup that, placed there by Andrew, was about to be thrown all over the kitchen and me.

Wa!

Note the mix of anguish, pleasure, and awareness of his own dead-end life: Mikey Lantz prepares to receive the gift of ketchup covered sausage courtesy of Andrew.

Some of this was beer. Some of it was...well, I'm not sure.

There was a lot of chaos to this portion of the evening and a lot of great things happened. This picture captures just one of them.


Here we have Mikey trying to convince CJ that he should punch Mikey. CJ didn't agree and refused to oblige Mikey. However, he did allow Mikey to hit him in the face. Odd choice. After several more minutes of pleading, I agreed to do the one thing Mikey asked of me: Punch him in his little hobbit face. His theory was that it would help him get girls. I have never heard more sound theory in my life, and I doubt that you have either.

So all in all, I gave him a straight fist at about 65% of full capability. The sound of my fist against Mikey's face in still to this moment one of the best sounds I have ever heard in my entire life. Immediately afterwards we all burst into laughter, especially Mikey, who while staggering backwards decided to stick his entire head into the dish water/dishes in the sink and just sit there for about 20 seconds. After several more minutes of stumbling around unsure of where he was, Mikey began to hug me over and over. This was a great experience and maybe some of you will also share in it one day, but I highly doubt that because you are nowhere nearly as good friends with me as Mikey is. He bought me bananas at the Oxford house 5 years ago.

Most of the rest of the time at the house was a blur, but I remembered it ending when the two sluts Mikey was towing around got blamed for the "mess" in the kitchen which I do not recall any of us being involved in. Then Mikey started yelling at the girl who was larger than him like most girls who read blogs. Mikey's comeback? "You're wearing Aeropostale" Yeah, that was golden. Very funny. He also made a comment about wearing UFC gear, which summarily brought roughly 5 sweet dudes, wearing UFC gear no less, teeming around the corner looking for some violence or something. Sadly for them all that happened is that they got clowned by a very belligerent and drunk hobbit as I shuffled him out the door.

Our next destination of Stan's gf's house. We walked there, somewhere along the way losing Mikey, but not the two annoying slags who claimed to be "dyke lovers" together. Really cool. Oh yeah, that is why I don't hang out with girls just out of high school, they think things that were played out while Fresh Prince (amazing show by the way) was still in syndication are somehow new and amazing and really catchy. False. They were not attractive and very annoying. Double fail. When we got to Smashley's house, Stan and I took to making any and all food and drink that we decided was pleasing to us. After the pizza was done cooking and Stan was cutting it, Smashley was hitting him, which in return waranted wild slashing from Stan with...a butterknife. Turns out that while butterknives are useless in limb removal, they are really good at ruining the stitching that they catch on, and thus effectively ruining the previously nice shirt/shawl/whatever thing that Smashley was wearing. This pissed her off. So she would hit him more. And he would slash wildly more. Than Stan tried to choke her out, it was mostly working, but he had set his front arm wrong at the hand and therefore wasn't yielding maximum results, to Smashley's cousin, Jamal, was like "What?" and tried to restrain Stan by putting him in a chokehold, which mostly worked except for the fact that Stan, determined to see Smashley exit consciousness, had managed to maintain a double-handed grasp on Smashley's hair. Don't get too worked up, most of you average looking girls could only be so lucky to find yourself in a position where Stan would have two fists of your hair. How sad it is that you average girls even exist, imagine how the completely unsightly ones must feel! I digress. After Stan's death grip on Smashley's golden locks was relinquished she fired off the best punch that Stan has ever taken in his life. Bloody lip. Amazing. At this point I got kind of conflicted/turned on. It gets really grey from that point out.

Stan slashes with butterknives, Smashley punches faces, I hit Mikey in the face.

UPDATE: Comments on my facebook.

Xavier Cougat I punched Mikey ***** in the face.

Yesterday at 3:39am · Comment · Like

Mikey ***** likes this.

Mikey *****

i dont know where my phone is

Yesterday at 4:10am · Delete

Mikey *****

fuck me so hard

Yesterday at 4:10am · Delete

Mikey *****

i wanna kill myself

Yesterday at 4:16am · Delete

Yeah, that happened.

What Will Happen!?

It's a very tight race! I'm excited to see what the results will be!

These are the leaders! If you think this sucks, vote and change it!

Also, it's Friday. Double kegger tonight. Let's get buck!

The Truth

In the end, after all the little cry babies and karate nerds have wailed and complained, Brock Lesnar, former NCAA DI Heavyweight Wrestling Champion for the Minnesota Gophers, is still the defending and undisputed UFC Heavyweight Champion. So much crying going on about this, and it is absurd. A superior human, a superior athlete.

Combine this complete and dominating performance with that of another former wrestler, Dan Henderson, a notable former holding of multiple Pride belts simultaneously and former Olympic wrestler, and the night obviously belongs to American Wrestling.

Is this what my blog is intended to be about? No.

Something funnier, or more awesome, later this week...hopefully.

Headbutt Balls

Where do we begin with this one?

Well, it doesn't look like much, and it really isn't. But what is it then? It is proof that with one skilled 140 lb. wrestler on my back, and a 200+ lb. man trying to cow-catch me, I can still muster the strength to lunge forward and headbutt dude in the balls.

How did we get here you ask? Well, let me break it down for you.

Today was a long and very rewarding day. I forced myself out of bed at the crack of 10:25 AM to slave away at work, which I did, making various sandwiches and chicken wings until the late hour of 2:10 PM. I know, I barely survived.

After work, I figured the best way to wind down would be to visit the local mall and visit the chain store that my good friend, Seth, manages. I spent nearly two hours at said store, listening to edgy music while scores of tweens tore through the T.I. and Twilight merchandise. WYLD HOMO. There was also a brief cameo from my favorite little hood booger, Morgan.

Nicole was being a real jerk today, too. I think it was both funny and appropriate.

I worked out very hard today and also ran. As you could easily tell by my toned physique. You will never be allowed to read of my workouts because you are not Tyler or Stan. If you were, you would be attractive, smart, and wealthy and I would gladly divulge any information about my workouts that you would like.

I was overwhelmed with joy when I found that I had received many text messages, most importantly from Barry, my personal cook. He creates appetizing delights that both tantalize and tease the tongue. He had prepared a spread of delicious tacos. You were not invited, I had 5.

Among the many other things I am, popular is most assuredly one of the most important things that I am. So after a delicious meal shared with Barry and Michael Evan, I set out to fulfill the calling of my life: beating people at beer pong, fighting, meeting cute girls.

You will be glad to know that I achieved all three this evening, while you did nothing more than inch closer to your assured and ever-lonely death.

I was invited to several events this evening, not the least of which was a in-home party, also known by us upscale socialites as a "house party", that I was so benevolent as to grace with my presence.

At the right, you may see my brother-in-darkness, Stan, with his succubus.

Shortly after arriving I found the girl that was beautiful, she was tall and blonde and had a very cute smile, that is definitely not her to the right. The girl to the right is evil and already the property of Stan, therefore of no value to me.

After crushing several enemies in beer pong, Stan and I retired as champions and decided we should unleash the beast....RUFUS PHENEAS SATANAS!!!!!!! After going and retrieving Rufus from his lair, we walked him, with his Coach collar (which was a mere $72) and his pink leash back to the in-home party. Sadly, we met ways with the attractive young woman who had captured my wandering and lusty eye. She said that she must be off, because she had to go back to California for a model shoot at the end of the week. I was sad to see her go, but I am glad that I at least now know her name so I may speak it in my sweetest dreams.

It was at this time that both CJ and Andrew deemed it neccessary to create a malevolent tide of brute man-strength and grapple each other to and fro in the side yard. I still whistfully to the side while those savages tore each other apart like rabid sleestaks. Oh what a site to behold!

Andrew was doing well for himself considering his opponent had the decided upper hand...and had not been taking straight pulls of Wild Turkey all night. Then Stan suggested something dark, how about I take on both Andrew and CJ? Well, I obliged, and crushed them both under my mighty palm, for while I am not a god, neither am I a mere man. Surely this is evident by the fire burning in my manly and seductive eyes. After tricking them into taking the upper hand by taking my back and attacking from the front I saw but one option left; I had already snatched up their meager pride and defacated upon it, now I had to get them where it really hurt.

So with a man on my back trying to subdue me, I rose forward and lunged headlong into Andrew's balls a mere milisecond before crashing face first into the dirt. He writhed in pain, I spit dirt and laughed, before throwing CJ into the side of a car.

Yeah, that happened.

What Really Happened, 4 July, 2009:

Spent most of the 4th relaxing and being lazy. I decided that no one wanted to hang out with me because no one had called me or sent me a text about plans for the holiday. Talked to Mike, he was being a dick about everything and I don't know why. Probably had something to do with his stupid girlfriend who is totally into dudes, not other girls.

At this point in the day, it was early evening, I decided to contact both Jared and Barry. This is where it gets interesting. Jared said he would come over and Barry said that the rumored dinner party and the Phoenix Park Apartments that he manages was going to happen. How exciting! Mike forgot our chairs from our apartment because he was too busy being a dick, so I had to bring them. Then I left before Jared got to my place and called and told him to meet me at the Phoenix Park Apartments.

The Phoenix Park Apartments are luxurious and expensive. You could never hope to afford living there, but I can.

When I arrived, I used the building code, which I have but no one else does because I am both trustworthy and professional. I brought in the chairs and then surveyed the spread that Barry and his longstanding mistress, Jess, had prepared. It looked delicious.

After a few minutes, Jared, Luke and his maidservant and their lovechild, Noah, arrived as did Mike and his gf and her friend Sarah. When they arrived we had already begun to bring the wonderful food and alcoholic beverage selection to the spacious and regal third floor unit from which we were to view the fireworks.

Then Dan, Kris, Colin, Laura, and some other hussy showed up. It was now a full-on, invite-only private dinner party. I ate most of the food and thought not of any but myself and devoured delicious item after delicious item.

There were both soft and hard shell tacos, barbacoa, freshly chopped lettuce, chives, tomatoes, black olives, freshly shredded cheese, sour cream that had just been opened, watermelon, store bought and packaged sugar cookies with patriotic colored sprinkles, as well as various beverage choices. Sipmply magnificent!

The fireworks were thundreous and worth every moment I spent savoring both their majestic power and unwavering symbolism of FREEDOM. God bless America!

I found at that Colin is afraid of heights, much worse than I am. Sarah kept sitting on me, gross. Mike and his gf kept acting like a couple and it made me want to vomit. The others had already begun to filter out after the fireworks display and Jared was so sickened by Mike that he actually left because he did vomit at the thought of how disgusting Mike and his gf are.

I received several calls and many more texts from other people who know that I am both attractive and intelligent, therefore making me popular by default. They all wanted to shower me with their attention in hopes that in some small way I may, in the future, perhaps give them a dollop of the same in return. They were not so lucky.

I was at a private dinner party.

Yeah, that happened.