So, let me get this straight: after saving the Mushroom Kingdom yet again by dominating fifteen courses, collecting 120 stars and defeating every enemy to come his way (including three separate showdowns with Bowser), Mario is rewarded with…a freshly baked cake. There’s no sack of money, no parade—hell, he doesn’t even get a real kiss from the Princess. Just a damn cake. Every year my birthday reward for continuing to breathe is the same reward Mario gets for defeating evil personified and freeing a peaceful world from tyranny. I always forget how frustrating I find the end of Super Mario 64.

So, let me get this straight: after saving the Mushroom Kingdom yet again by dominating fifteen courses, collecting 120 stars and defeating every enemy to come his way (including three separate showdowns with Bowser), Mario is rewarded with…a freshly baked cake. There’s no sack of money, no parade—hell, he doesn’t even get a real kiss from the Princess. Just a damn cake. Every year my birthday reward for continuing to breathe is the same reward Mario gets for defeating evil personified and freeing a peaceful world from tyranny.

I always forget how frustrating I find the end of Super Mario 64.

Occupy My Heart

A few weeks ago, Dave and I were chatting online, as we are wont to do, and came up with a Knocked Up-style romantic comedy idea set in the midst of the Occupy Wall Street movement. Excerpt: ‪
———-

Dave: She can whisper in his ear all sexy-like “I want you to occupy… me”‬ followed by tasteful shots of mushing around in a tent somewhere

me:  ‪”Wow, it’s going to get so cold out here tonight…I want to stay and continue to fight for justice, but…I don’t know if we’ll be able to stay warm enough.”‬
“Oh, I’ve got some ideas….”
that’s when they walk into the tent
and we’re treated to undressing silhouettes
and then some other occupiers staring and elbowing each other while going “heh heh heh.”

David:  ‪a few months later: “Baby, I think I’m pregnant, and I’m 99% sure it’s yours”‬
“I thought I’d never want to be in the 1%… until now.”

———-

Look for Occupy My Heart to hit theaters Summer 20-Sometime.

My Take On Rock’s Biggest Debate

The Beatles are the guys you run into on a Thursday evening after an independent movie premiere. You see each other at the restaurant next door to the theater, and catch-up while also discussing everyone’s interpretation of the film’s meaning.

The Rolling Stones are the guys you go out drinking with on a Friday night. You have some awesomely hilarious conversations in-between shooting pool, hitting on girls and getting kicked out of at least two bars.

Artistic Advantage: Beatles.
Fun Advantage: Stones.

People You May Know

Being reminded I signed up for LinkedIn only when I receive a “HEY PERSON I KNOW I HAVE A JOB TOO SO JOIN MY ‘NETWORK’ FOR SOME REASON” email notification from them, I don’t ever spend any time on it. This morning, for whatever reason, though, I logged in to see what was going on with the most boring social networking site out there. I discovered two things: 1) my employment information is current as of 2006, and 2) LinkedIn’s “People You May Know” feature is damn eerie. The number of folks it correctly thinks I should know but has no logical way of determining is unnerving. How does it know who my business attorney is? An old friend in a distant city? Somebody I used to buy coffee from 3 years ago? LinkedIn, you are smarter than you should be.

Second Time Around

You ever have that experience where an old song you never liked comes on the radio and suddenly it’s your jam because of your never-ending, nostalgia-fueled lust for the past? This actually happens a lot to me, and often with tracks released around the turn of the Willennium, in my late junior high and high school years. I still won’t even like the song itself all that much, but I’ll still crank it up and love every second of it.

(And, despite not really paying attention to this song the first time around, I somehow know all the words, so…even worse…or better).

HAPPY NEW YEAR A DAY LATE, INTERNET. IMMA GO TO BED NOW BUT TOMORROW THERE’S FUN STUFF ON THE WAY.

HAPPY NEW YEAR A DAY LATE, INTERNET. IMMA GO TO BED NOW BUT TOMORROW THERE’S FUN STUFF ON THE WAY.

Wooooah, what’s THAT sound? Is that the tippy-tapping of SECULAR BOOTS on the roof? Woah, well, it must be yet another sign that it ‘tis the season because rumor has it that non-denominational Mr. Winter is on his way to the student lounge.
Merry Happy from Dean Pelton

Influence

Every December for the past few I’ve been seeing a lot of least influential people of whatever year it is lists. These sorts of countdowns to the bottom crack me up because it’s always filled with people I’ve heard of and who numerous folks actually care about.

I want to see a list filled with non-celebrities. I want, “#7 Earl from the Mobile gas station in Beulah, North Dakota.* Earl is pretty unfriendly, and doesn’t say ‘Thanks for stopping in’ when he gives you back your change—IF he gives you back your change.”

*Earl probably doesn’t exist.

[Flash 10 is required to watch video]

SEASON’S GREETINGS, YA’LL

(Thanks to these fellas for blazing the Yuletide-Toto trail. At about 2:17 it gets all kinds of 80’s Christmas)

Original Draft of “A Christmas Carol”*

In the fourth stave, Scrooge nervously approaches the headstone in the cemetery, fearful that it’s his future he’s being shown and his grave he approaches. And then he brushes away the fallen snow on the stone to discover…it’s not him, and says, “Oh, okay,” and then goes back to being awful.

*Not really.

YO INTERNET JUST WANTED TO SAY I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU. Lately I’ve been busy with a bunch of projects whose Instant Gratification levels are way down but whose Eventual Awesome factors are off the charts. I spent 12 hours yesterday working on both alt. country and goofy metal songs with my buddy Jim, and I could’ve kept tracking through the night if not for work this morning (‘cause Shakespeare got to get paid, son). Anyway, I’ve got a backlog of the sorts of stuff that makes me smile (read: head-shakingly stupid) which will start trickling online shortly. Until then, listen to this song and instantly feel like a winner—it’s my new ringtone.

YO INTERNET JUST WANTED TO SAY I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU. Lately I’ve been busy with a bunch of projects whose Instant Gratification levels are way down but whose Eventual Awesome factors are off the charts. I spent 12 hours yesterday working on both alt. country and goofy metal songs with my buddy Jim, and I could’ve kept tracking through the night if not for work this morning (‘cause Shakespeare got to get paid, son).

Anyway, I’ve got a backlog of the sorts of stuff that makes me smile (read: head-shakingly stupid) which will start trickling online shortly. Until then, listen to this song and instantly feel like a winner—it’s my new ringtone.

The “science” part is called “Photoshop.”

The “science” part is called “Photoshop.”

Present Jordan: “Hey, Jordan, it’s me…….you.” Past Jordan: “Goodness, gracious, Jordan…it feels like it’s been ages since we spoke!” Present Jordan: “Same here. Say, while I’ve got you…a piece of advice.” Past Jordan: “Shoot.” Present Jordan: “Do you remember when you stopped using your iPhone’s case, because you liked how non-bulky it was in your pocket?” Past Jordan: “Yeah, I did that just the other day. I’ve gotta say, it’s really nice and slick now.” Present Jordan: “Right. Well, here’s the thing….No.” Past Jordan: “…No?” Present Jordan: “Just…no.”

Present Jordan: “Hey, Jordan, it’s me…….you.”

Past Jordan: “Goodness, gracious, Jordan…it feels like it’s been ages since we spoke!”

Present Jordan: “Same here. Say, while I’ve got you…a piece of advice.”

Past Jordan: “Shoot.”

Present Jordan: “Do you remember when you stopped using your iPhone’s case, because you liked how non-bulky it was in your pocket?”

Past Jordan: “Yeah, I did that just the other day. I’ve gotta say, it’s really nice and slick now.”

Present Jordan: “Right. Well, here’s the thing….No.”

Past Jordan: “…No?”

Present Jordan: “Just…no.”

[Flash 10 is required to watch video]

Easily the best song I’ve ever written.

I’ve previously made mention of my love for obscure “Saved by the Bell” references. Back during freshman year of college, my buddy Steve and I could often be found watching SBTB instead of talking to girls (or trying to kill two birds with one stone). One of our favorite weird moments from the show (among the thousands to choose from) was from the episode where the gang takes over the school store from the nerds and make that swimsuit calendar. Slater acts as store security, and wears the above t-shirt to drive home this point. What “Security, Punk!” means, beyond a head-scratching attempt at seeming tough, is anybody’s guess. BUT THAT DIDN’T STOP US FROM FINDING IT BIZARRELY FUNNY. And it certainly didn’t stop us from spending an evening creating our own iron-on t-shirt versions of Slater’s uniform. Since then, every few months I’ll come across this shirt at the back of my drawer and every time I’ll laugh because I still don’t understand what the hell it means. Yup, it’s hard to imagine why no girl ever took us up on our flyer’s offer.

I’ve previously made mention of my love for obscure “Saved by the Bell” references. Back during freshman year of college, my buddy Steve and I could often be found watching SBTB instead of talking to girls (or trying to kill two birds with one stone). One of our favorite weird moments from the show (among the thousands to choose from) was from the episode where the gang takes over the school store from the nerds and make that swimsuit calendar. Slater acts as store security, and wears the above t-shirt to drive home this point. What “Security, Punk!” means, beyond a head-scratching attempt at seeming tough, is anybody’s guess.

BUT THAT DIDN’T STOP US FROM FINDING IT BIZARRELY FUNNY. And it certainly didn’t stop us from spending an evening creating our own iron-on t-shirt versions of Slater’s uniform. Since then, every few months I’ll come across this shirt at the back of my drawer and every time I’ll laugh because I still don’t understand what the hell it means.

Yup, it’s hard to imagine why no girl ever took us up on our flyer’s offer.