miss madison.

i guess we were there early. but we still caught fish. regardless, the beer was still cold at strozzi's and we did our best to support the off-season economy by pumping a good chunk of our paychecks into local flies and golden tee. we spooked plenty of elk, deer, and moose...but amit didn't have to use his bear spray. we got sunburned, windburned, and snow blindness. too many overturned semi-trucks and one crazy old lady on a motorcycle in the rain with serious issues listening to "a health care professional" after a nasty asphalt splash. one more, and hopefully the last, incident that reassures me: never stop at an accident. unless you are the only, only, only person for miles. and to the woman that took that poor lady's helmet off even though her glasses were snapped and her nose had started bleeding...you are an idiot. the drive sucks, but it's always worth it once that first fish crushes your streamer.

ha. ha. ha.

i mean, i wish the guy a speedy recovery, but this is too good...

thank you, sir...

but you're still a douchebag.VOTE

some thoughts RE: vegas...

1. is red bull a laxative?
2. is there anything better than watching keelan dance?
3. can you get pink eye from shaking hands with someone who went to deja vu the night before?
4. do i have a moral obligation to stop vlad from playing baccarat at 7am when he's asleep at the table and asians are throwing drink straws at him?
5. do the seahawks exist only to fuck my parlays?
6. is truffle oil legal?
7. who brought the married and pregnant girls?
8. if you received a text message from me over the weekend...i'm sorry.
9. oj...you can get your stuff back when you get out of the clink. sorry 'bout the mix up, juice.
10. is ken really getting married?
congrats ken! good times, thanks. until next time...no more funny stuff.

tasteless awesome-ness...

the amateur transplants check out some of their other stuff...if you're disgusting enough.

reason number 2,349...

why the terrorists hate us.

deschutes g...

which cd did you buy last week? kanye or fitty? nobody got nothing on me.


sucka.


my gats.

really?!...wait, it's iowa.

oh, the midwest...i don't miss it.
yes, yes...i've heard them all. the 'N' on nebraska's helmets stands for 'knowledge'. eat me.
but iowa has it way worse.
1. idiots out wandering around.
2. why do ducks fly upside-down over iowa? because there's nothing worth pooping on.
3. what do you get when you flunk your driver's test? a blue license plate.

i would dominate at the hosptial...

dunk-tastic

movie time!

since it's labor day. and summer's over. movie review time.


why do i get sucked in? why isn't there a sure thing in hollywood when it comes to a consistently funny actor? 'balls of fury' sucked. shame on me for thinking a movie about ping pong could be good. christ, this movie was absolutely horrible. i laughed once...wait, no, i didn't. christopher walken, why do you lay turds like this?
zero outta four "wax on, wax off" jokes.



'bourne ultimatum'. solid. as expected. killer fights. even more killer car chases. but, ok, somebody fill me in...i haven't read the books. i want to but i never get around to strengthening brain cells because i'm busy weakening them. so...did i pick up on some tension between bourne and julia stiles' character? did he used to bone her or something? just wondering.
four outta four dilithium crystals. my fingers are crossed that damon is cast as kirk in the new star trek movie. "there's something on the wing...some...thing!"



'superbad'. i mean, come on...what do you want me to say? i take back what i said about walken. jonah hill is quickly becoming the next tom hanks. nick cage. brad pitt. john wayne. george clooney. will smith. archie bunker. john candy. 'superbad' is super f-bomb-tastic. thank you, judd apatow. you may be the easiest pudding in hollywood right now, but i'm your bitch. you make menstrual blood kosher. you make cops cool. you get nerds laid.
five outta four frozen banana stands.

fish. shins. dust.

the home improvement projects are on hold. completed the trifecta of fishing the lower, middle, and upper deschutes. lovely.
the highlights: jetting up from heritage (those guys have brass cajones), the guy at the riffle fly shop (anybody wearing a p-bar hat from sitka is good peoples), working on my farmer tan, hooking a brown as long as my arm (but then a lowlight...i busted it off like a monkey fuckin' a football with my net), the magic bug works again, the shins played through the perfect storm (i wish there were more thunderstorms in portland...one thing i miss about nebraska), and the huskers rolled.
the lowlights: central oregon dust, not feeling like camping i roach moteled it and got absolutely hooked on some trash t.v. specifically 'LA ink' and 'rock of love with bret michaels' (kill me now), and not having enough time to stop to fish the big golden stoney-looking bugs coming off the metolius thick.

'i like turtles'...the update.

to my complete disappointment...it looks like this kid's family isn't the white trash rose festival usual. the visions of him crawling around on a dirty shag carpet stained with turtle poo, while mom cooked candy in the garage, and big sister neglected her crying baby because she loves 'the guiding light' are over. damn.

i'm sick of researching fantasy football...

you're welcome, vancouver v.2

this...


leads to this...


which leads to this...


which i wish would happen to all of these idiots...MAN, i hate people. these voters...all of which are most likely related to everyone in the rodeo scene during borat...are the reason i tell everyone when i'm traveling that i'm from "america's hat"...canada. because if i say i'm american...100% of the time they say, "oh, you like bush?" which is a trick question...since technically, i'm in a landing strip kinda mood, but anyway...enjoy.
jay leno and jeff foxworthy gots nothing on this aussie jon stewart.

hey...no shit, amy.

from msn.com (link)
"If Amy Winehouse ever seeks the help she so clearly needs, she might want to focus on one problem area in particular -- her alarmingly low self-esteem.

Just days after the beehived, rehab-eschewing singer defended her scratched-up husband, Blake Fielder-Civil, amid reports they had a knock-down, drag-out fight (even her trademark ballet slippers were covered in blood), she opened up to the London Sunday Mirror, alternately standing by her man and abusing her own worth.

"Look at me, I'm a mess. I'm nothing special," she sniffled to the paper. "In fact I'm nothing at all. I don't feel good. I don't have talent." "

the ac slater conundrum

honestly, he played basketball, football, wrestling, track, cross country, was a drummer in the band, he's a great dancer, and he hates preppies? freakin' awesome! he's like a footloose kevin bacon with the potential to become an olympic athlete. joey lawrence...eat your heart out.