raiders of the lost ark, or, how i learned to stop worrying and play taboo

Went and saw Raiders of the Lost Ark (my personal favorite Indy movie. Ha, that pun was seriously unintended, I just surprised myself) at Sinnissippi Park as part of the "Movies in the Park" program that the Rockford Park District does. It was pretty sweet. There was trivia before the movie (alas, Trivio didn't walk away with a prize, but he knew the answers dammit), and of course, there were Nazis getting melted, explosions, and, somehow, patriotism in the movie. Quote Mark: "They should just call this America: The Movie." So that was fun.

Afterwards however, was not as fun. I suck at Taboo. Seriously, I am terrible at it. And with Sarah yapping in my ear, it's hard to get any better. Just kidding Sarah, I just suck. So that wasn't going my way. Then James pops in from Canada, a welcome surprise. Chit chat ensues, including Alison's drinking habits and what there is to do in Canada (besides eat pancakes and go fishing. I know that's what you were thinking). On a downer, my two best friends apparently aren't going to Canada next week now. Now I have to try and be friendly to Kevin and Brant. Thanks guys. I mean, Brant, Kevin, and Cal are cool guys, but I don't have anything to talk about with them. James and I can converse with the best of them, but I assume that he will be tending to everyone's needs (along with drinking and going to strip clubs, which I won't be able to fucking do without a goddamn fake ID). Sarah and Christina are great, but, no offense to them, they are girls. Just not the same, Sarah and Christina, hope you understand. So now there is for the most part no reason for me to go. I most likely won't get an ID, so no clubs, no titty bars, no drinking. And from what we discussed, there's not much else to do. Plus, I'll bet even the girls will be going to dance clubs or something every night (which also require one to be born "on or before this date in 1987"), so I will be bored by myself. Whee.

Oh yeah, Tom. Instead of being all high and mighty, why don't you get drunk sometime so we can bring up all the stupid shit you did to everyone the next day? I mean, I really like it when you do it to me, so I assume you would enjoy it just as much. Get down off your high horse and have a shot. Mine's not a high horse.

I need new friends, I just seem to fight with all the ones I have now. At least I'm on my way outta this scene. But now I'm down in the dumps. And I was having such a good past few days. I'm gonna listen to some Secret Machines.

Currently enjoying:

The Secret Machines

Next ish: If Mark doesn't sneak off without me, I might see Sky High tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes. I said I would go with you, Mark, so let me know.

SoCal Countdown: 17 Days

the secret machines concert

Yes, Dave, they played "You Are Chains," and it was one of the greatest things I have ever heard. I say "one of" because this whole concert rocked the fucking house. They opened with "Sad and Lonely," went right into "Nowhere Again," then they played some stuff I've never heard before (must be new stuff, since I've heard pretty much everything they have to offer so far), kicked it up a notch with "The Road Leads Where It's Led," threw in a little "Pharoah's Daughter," and finished it off with a heart-pounding rendition of "First Wave Intact."

Needless to say, the best concert I have ever been to. But then again, I haven't been to that many concerts. But this one is gonna be tops for a long time I think. Me, Revis, and Cal drove up to Milwaukee to The Rave for The Secret Machines and Kings of Leon with The Shout Out Louds opening. All three sets were top notch. The Shout Out Louds did a great job getting the crowd warmed up.

I had bought my ticket more or less just to see the Secret Machines. So they went on, and blew my freakin' mind. They had a light show comparable to a Pink Floyd concert. No lasers, regretably, but the lights could have put anyone in an epileptic seizure. It's a good thing. One of the "new" (again, I assume it was new) songs featured a huge ass drum solo which got the crowd really excited. For the record, you could totally tell that 95% of the crowd was there to see Kings of Leon. The two songs with the highest crowd intensity for the Secret Machines were this one song with the drum solo and "First Wave Intact" which they closed with. An appropriate song to go out on, I think.

Now I had been familiar with Kings of Leon before going to this concert. I had just bought one of their albums, even. But like I said before, I was there to see Secret Machines first and foremost. But Kings of Leon really fucking surprised me. I liked them before, sure, but they fucking kicked ass. Their whole set was super-high intensity, and their bass player reminded me of Billy Idol, and their lead guitarist reminded me of Greg Klazura. Weird, huh?

After a long (and well-spent) night, I am off. Three magnificent concerts all rolled into one, and I'm wiped. Just had to tell you about it right away, because I wouldn't have made it until Sunday. And oh yeah, I got the Kings of Leon set list (the list of songs they put on stage for the band members to know what order they are playing the songs in) because me, Revis, and Cal stood around after the show as they were taking down the equipment. It has the bass player's spit on it! It's cool! Revis and Cal each got broken picks from the rhythm guitarist/lead singer. Well, not from him, but he used them. You get the idea. Amazing night, and tomorrow should be pretty damn good too. Raiders of the Lost Ark here I come. I'll explain later (still).

Currently enjoying:

What the fuck do you think?

Next ish: Seeing a movie in a park on Saturday, and Sunday might bring good things as well. We'll see!

SoCal Countdown: 18 Days

keeping up with the bernacheas

I finally got a cell phone. Call me whenever you like. It's going to be nice being in the loop for the last three weeks of summer. Nothing much else has been going on lately. I've just been sitting on my ass watching movies for the past few days. Really exciting stuff, but I think I'll just spare you the details. The Cubs are fluctuating, as usual. But the Oakland A's 2nd half resurgence is amazing. Zito, my boy, I always knew you had it in you. Even last year, when you were struggling a bit, I refused to trade you from my fantasy baseball team. Barry, you're my boy!

King of the Hill is on, so I'm gonna go sit on my ass and watch that. Summer sure is going out with a bang.

Currently enjoying:



Next ish: You probably won't hear from me until Sunday. I'll have a lot to say then, after the Secret Machines concert and seeing Raiders of the Lost Ark in a park on Saturday. I'll explain later.

SoCal Countdown: 21 Days

i'm like robin hood, but for booze

I had planned on doing another post about my adventure of stealing booze from the rich to give to the poor without all the exaggeration. But fuck that. Everything I said before was true, okay? Forget I ever said the word exaggeration.

So everyone is at the Dave Matthews concert today, which I refused to go to, because Dave Matthews sucks ASS (I can already foresee more comments about this post than any other, just because I said that Dave Matthews sucks). Sure, I was bored as hell all day, but better to be bored than listen to shitty ass music for 3 hours. Any band that isn't Phish should not be allowed to give 3 hour concerts. Since Led Zeppelin doesn't tour anymore (John Bonham, God rest your soul), Phish is the only decent jam band left in the world. All Dave Matthews Band "jams" are the same riff over and over, with some annoying violin thrown in for good (or bad) measure. They don't elaborate on their songs, it's as if they were in a car and hit an unusually large bump and started skipping, but you can't just skip to the next track. Now, of course I'll admit, as with any band, that not all of their material is bad. The stuff that doesn't sound like all the other stuff isn't bad. Some of their covers aren't bad (All Along the Watchtower - not bad, though Jimi does it way better, Tangerine - bad, just because you can never do a Led Zeppelin song the justice it deserves unless your name is Jimmy Page or Robert Plant.). But these exceptions are few and far between. O.A.R. (Of a Revolution? What fucking revolution from hell are you starting?) is Dave Matthews Band, but without any of the members of Dave Matthews Band. It's a lot like all of the Coldplay clones we're seeing nowadays. Coldplay is pretty good though, so at least these clones are emulating something that's worth a damn. I like how DirecTV is showing a Dave Matthews version of Storytellers. How much does one have to pay for such a groundbreaking event as this? Nothing. It's on the free channel. Shows how much people give a damn about Dave Matthews. But enough of this. You get the picture. I don't like him. 'Nuff said.

I bought four (4) cds today. So I more or less threw 50 bones down the drain because I don't have a cd player in my car anymore (damn you, whoever you are!). But I'm enjoying them. A qualm about the record industry recently: Why is it that the Kings of Leon go to the trouble of copy-protecting their music, while Coldplay (obviously the bigger, but not necessarily the better, band) doesn't do shit? And why the fuck does this copy protected software suck so much ass? Here's what it says on the cover of Aha Shake Heartbreak: "This CD is protected against unauthorized duplication. It is designed to play on standard playback devices and an appropriately configured computer (see system requirements on back). If you have questions or concerns visit www.sunncomm.com/support/bmg."

Apparently what they mean by a "properly configured computer" is any computer but mine. You put the cd in, and it brings up this shitty, user-hostile menu that refuses to play music unless you agree to download some license agreement, most likely packed with spyware. Spyware be damned, I wanted my music so I tried to agree to this license shit, but MSN (probably the second biggest piece of shit program in the world, next to AOL) decides to say no for me. So I can't listen to Kings of Leon on my computer. Which brings me back to my original point. Coldplay is obviously going to sell more albums than Kings of Leon. Therefore, shouldn't they be the ones copy-protecting their music? Or are they such pretentious asshole that they're sitting in mansions on their own private islands saying "Let the fuckers download our music! We'll still go double platinum!" God, rich people are so condescending. Just because every music magazine in the country has at one point or another referred to you as the "biggest band in the world" you think that everyone is going to buy it? Yeah, I bought it. So what? You wanna fight about it?

Anyways, it just pisses me off that a big band like Coldplay doesn't have to copy-protect their music, just because they won't really suffer from it if they don't. But I imagine that illegal filesharing hasn't hurt, but helped Kings of Leon. I wouldn't have ever heard of them, or wanted to buy their album, had I not illegally downloaded a song of theirs on Limewire. I hope the RIAA isn't reading this. But you know what? My so-called "illegal" actions have spurred me to buy more albums than if I hadn't downloaded a sample beforehand. In my situation, Limewire is helping your asses, so don't sue me. Please don't sue me.

That's my qualm. The four albums I bought? So glad you asked.

The White Stripes - Get Behind Me Satan
Coldplay - X & Y
Kings of Leon - Aha Shake Heartbreak
LCD Soundsystem - Self-titled (The White Cover)

All highly recommended. Though I haven't actually listened to Kings of Leon yet. They're good though, trust me. I also wanted to get The Modern Lovers, but Best Buy isn't that sophisticated. Listen to Losing My Edge by LCD Soundsystem for an explanation. Actually, if you listen to the song, you won't really get an explanation, unless you understand the motivation behind the song. Just ask me sometime. Forget listening to the song. That is, unless you want to hear a really good song just for the hell of it. Enough rambling! I'm done. McNally, out.

Currently enjoying:


(A little moreso than X & Y. Sorry Chris Martin. When it comes to rockin', Jack White kicks your ass.)

Next ish: I expect a lot of flak for that shit I said about Dave Matthews, so perhaps a retort to all those who disagree with me. Canada is coming up fast, I'm done with work, I need to pack for school, and the Secret Machines concert is Friday, so there will be much more to come before I leave August 17th. Stay tuned.

SoCal Countdown: 24 Days

shake n' bake, jump n' jive, float n' sting, run n' hide

The endless quest for alcohol drives four more poor souls into a life of crime. I've only just returned from a daring rescue mission with all of my limbs intact. You see, these poor bottles of booze were trapped inside a particularly nasty country club. The country club would pour out the bottles' insides into little styrofoam cups, not giving the precious liquid the respect it deserved. At times, the employees of the country club put their undeserving mouths on the bottles and snuck a taste of this sweet nectar of the gods. Naturally we had to do something. We formulated a plan. Sneak in. Grab the booze. Sneak out.

The rendezvous point was James's. We grabbed a transport (a big cooler) for the royalty we were about to extricate from its prison. Getting onto the prison grounds was easy enough. They don't really worry about people coming into a prison. After we made our way through the booby-trap infested grounds (fiery pits which we flew over, various attack dogs which I managed to judo chop in the necks, and a few anonymous henchman that we took out with ease) we reached the prison complex. After scaling the 20 foot high electric fence with nothing but our bare hands, we were inside. The holding cell wasn't far. James found the weak point in the defenses (the service window) and penetrated the holding cell. Tom and myself grabbed the transport and hoisted it into the complex.

Just then, the evil Tidy-o with his Vacuum Cleaner of Doom emerged from the inner sanctum of the prison complex. Numer0 was prepared for this. He assumed his fighting position, but Tidy-o took no notice of the four liberators of justice hunched in the shadows. With all of the princes of the land of Intoxia safely secured in the transport, we headed back out of the grounds.

Once off the grounds, we knew we could not return the way we came, for it would take far too long and would be far too risky. We took a shortcut through the Land of the Wealthy Assholes. One big private driveway tailor-made for our getaway. At the end of the drive, we ducked into the Woods of Doubt. The magical spell immediately took effect, as we could not find the predetermined path back to the rendezvous point. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, we came across an enchanted barrier of barbed wire. As we tried various superpowers on this barrier, a vehicle pulled up the drive behind us. The driver pulled up like a bat out of hell, turned his vehicle directly towards us, his lights flooding the Woods of Doubt (we all duck for cover), and stops hard. The cruel mistress of panic began to seduce her way into our minds. The vehicle was an SUV, cops don't drive SUVs, but then who was it, why did they turn directly towards us, were they the prison guards, why aren't they getting out of the car, just sit still, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Someone (or something) gets out of the car, and we lose sight of it. We all held our breaths until Tom (Webo) said, "I just saw him go up to a house over there." A collective sigh of relief was released. We discovered the enchanted barrier was not that high, and we could step over it with a little effort.

We had made it to the rendezvous point, but we were not of the Woods yet. Doubt continued to plague us as we fought toward the clearing of James's backyard. Once in the clear, all doubt passed from our minds. We placed the princes into their palace (James's shed) to be prepared for the rescue celebration the next night.

Put another felony on my non-existent police record. Belcho, Numer0, Webo, and Trivio strike again, in the name of justice and drunkenness.

Currently enjoying:


In honor of the Mexican with the vacuum.

Next ish: I'll post again after we celebrate the emanicipation of the Princes of Intoxia in grand style, by drinking them. To Princes Vermouth, Bacardi, and Seagram! We salute thee!

the truth about summer vacation

Couldn't have said it better myself.

some were born to sing the blues

Ah, Journey. I've heard that song so much this summer, I've grown to hate it. I think it's because every time I have a bad day, I seem to hear that song. Some kind of association/conditioned response/psychology shit I guess.

Man, that last post was fuckin massive, wasn't it? Damn. I can't top that. But today I got to go to my friend's house on a lake, and we went out on the boat. Only for a little while because we got there at like 6:00 and they can't have a wake after 7:00. But oh well, I still had fun. Then we played some catch and listened to some tunes and watched Frequency. Frequency has Jesus in it before he was Jesus. Jim Caviezel is a really good actor, I've come to realize. That is, unless The Passion sucked. I haven't seen it. Am I a bad person?

Canada is looking a little sketchy. A bunch of people can't go, some of whom are really good friends of mine who I really want to go. I don't know if the whole thing will be canned or if I just won't go. Plus a friend of mine who's going to USC with me might be coming to town during that week. I really don't want to miss that, so maybe we can go to Canada another time. Hopefully things work out. But given my track record for the summer, they won't. Somehow things will unfold so that I can't go to Canada and I won't see my friend either. I have had the worst luck this summer. Cubs game anyone?

Currently enjoying:



Next ish: Nothing planned for the next few days, but we'll see what happens. Maybe I'll get into one of those funks and bore you all to death with my complaints about life. You'd better hope not.

SoCal Countdown: 27 Days

down in the ground where the dead men go

I went to the comic book store with Revis today, and I bought a Spawn comic and a Constantine comic. The post title is the title of the Constantine issue. Tonight is a total bust, no one is doing anything. But I'm alright with that, because I need to catch up on some sleep. I figure I'll do a nice, long post and talk on Trillian for a while, then get to bed around 1:00. I have a big day tomorrow! No Six Flags (damn you, whoever came up with the idea of money!) but we're going out on the Waverunners tomorrow. Now all I need to do is get James's lazy ass outta bed before one in the afternoon so we can get our work done before it's time to go. He says that after this week, we'll be done working more or less. I certainly hope so. I am getting hella sick of moving rocks. And what with my lack of sleeping lately, I've turned into the surly employee, so I think it would be beneficial to everyone if we call it quits soon.

I've really begun to enjoy comic books. I never got into them as a kid (unless you count those damn Archie comics, which I don't. I have stacks of them in my basement. Yes, I was a goddamn loser when I was younger. Hell, I'm a loser now, who are we kidding?). Did anyone else read Disney Adventures Magazine when they were little? Well, that was my first introduction to comics, believe it or not. They would publish little shitty comics most of the time, but one month they published (in color! which means more, now that I know about these things) the first issue of Bone. One issue of a comic book isn't usually enough to draw you in. You usually have to consciously stick with it until you catch up on the story. Maybe it was the fact that it was issue #1 or just the fact that it was fucking awesome, I was hooked on this comic. I renewed my subscription to Disney Adventures for so long after that, hoping that they would continue publishing Bone. I think they put in maybe only one or two more issues, and needless to say, I was disappointed when my mom finally cut my subscription. Luckily, I discovered that this wasn't just a Disney Adventures exclusive comic. This was an actual series that you could buy, if you looked in the right place.

The right place, in Rockford, is Tomorrow Is Yesterday on N. 2nd. I didn't buy the single issues though, because by the time I discovered that I could, there was already a Volume One collection with about 15 comics together. So I would wait and wait for those to come out instead of buying the individual comics. The series ended up filling nine of these collection books, the last of which I finally obtained last Christmas. So as you can see, my introduction to comics was overall a good one. Now that I have somewhat of an income, Revis and I have gone to Tomorrow Is Yesterday twice now and bought a few random comics (Bigfoot, Constantine, Medal Gear Solid, 100 Bullets, Conan, and Spawn to be exact). It is definitely hard to find a good comic to get hooked to if you don't start from issue #1. But so far, I'm satisfied.

I don't know why I thought that longwinded story was necessary, but hey, it's my blog, so why not tell you a little something about myself. That is, a little something that doesn't concern my current "feelings" and whatnot. I'm sick of talking about that. My bipolar disorder must be on the upswing because I'm thinking to myself, "Who gives a fuck? Just let it go and enjoy the rest of summer!" So to do that, I'm enjoying comics. Maybe it's because I'm taking a class on comics and graphic novels ("serious" comics, although I don't think that non-graphic novels aren't serious, unless we're talking about Archie again) my first semester. Whatever it is, it's kinda been working. I'm sorta enjoying myself. But to reiterate what I said early this morning, I need to get drunk. Soon.

I've fallen in love with The Shins. They rock. Download everything you can get your hands on. But other than that, I've fallen into a musical rut. All I listen to anymore is Secret Machines, Radar Bros., The Shins, and LCD Soundsystem. All great bands, yes, but somebody give me something new to get hooked on! I'm a fan of the indie rock, but anything else is fair game too, so if you have any suggestions in that realm, send 'em my way. Wow, I just realized that I haven't been very funny so far this post. What the hell is the matter with me? Que pasa contigo? The jokes aren't coming like they used to, but I'm trying.

This is the most useless post in the history of my blog. I'm just typing and typing and shit is coming out. I guess I'd rather do this than Facebook. I have nothing else to say on that subject. Except that now that I've chronicled my life and interests on it, it no longer holds any appeal to me.

It's a little early for a retrospective on the events of the summer, especially with two of the biggest events of the summer still to come (Secret Machines concert and Canada). Nevertheless, I had some sweet plans that never came to fruition. I wanted to write more, which I guess I sorta have with the blog, but that's not what I was thinking when I said I would do it. I wanted to get a script ready for school, you know, something to work with for class. That never happened. I got a couple promising starts, but nothing really fleshed out. And now that I look at them, I really gotta plan them out before I start them, because fleshing them out into a good, full-length script is gonna be a little tougher than I thought. I also had planned on playing a shitload of guitar between June and August. In short, I've had a lot less time than I thought I would. And yet, I've spent the majority of it being bored. How ironic.

The All-Star break was good to the Cubs. E'erybody is coming around.

Lee is still hitting

Like he was before the break.

Now others are too.

- A Cubs haiku by Andrew McNally

Sorry, some things just inspire me. And when Lee, Ramirez, and Walker combine for 7 home runs and 14 RBIs the past two days against the Reds, poetry comes to mind. God, I love baseball.

In other news, I can now do a backflip off of a diving board. The next step is doing one off of a table onto the ground, then just doing one on the ground. This is one summer goal I'm determined to accomplish. I think I'm finally out of things to say. Sorry to keep you so long. Just tell your husband you got held up in traffic. You may want to redo your hair though. It got a little messy, he might think we're up to something.

Currently enjoying:




Next ish: After our little boat trip tomorrow, I should have lots to say! I know you can't wait, but you'll just have to. Ish is short for issue by the way. I'm using comic book terms now. I'm such a loser.

got my eyes on your charm when you're holdin' that thread to my throat

The above is from "Broken Mouth Blues" by Nic Armstrong & the Thieves. That's not even my favorite line in the song. That honor goes to: "How can you be so cruel / To someone that wants to kiss you so." So here I am, 5:00 a.m., and I'm blogging. I was drifting in and out of consciousness all day yesterday, and I imagine today will be similar. I need to get drunk.

There is nothing to do this early in the morning. That is, besides masturbate, listen to music, and talk to Mark because that kid never sleeps. 2 outta 3 ain't bad, but I'm not telling you which 2... ;-) This post is going to be boring, I can already tell. I really have nothing to say, besides the fact that I'm slowly going insane. Everything is insane at 5:00 a.m. though I guess. I really need to stop staying up late.

Currently enjoying:



Next post: I need sleep. Then I need Six Flags. Hopefully I can scrape up the cash. I'll keep you updated, as always.

SoCal Countdown: 29 Days

hide-and-seek in wal-mart supercenter

God, I hate Wal-Mart. So in a big "fuck you" to "the man" a few of us decide to go play hide-and-seek in the newest Wal-Mart of Rockford. This came after I saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for the second time. Yes, the second time. I hate myself for paying 8 dollars to see any movie, unless it was the coolest fucking thing I've ever seen in my entire life, which this movie was not. It was good, okay? I still hate myself. My funds are running low for Christ's sake and I go to a movie I've already seen. Wonder what made me do that?

Anyway back to hide-and-seek. That movie looks awful. I haven't seen it, but damn De Niro, you're better than that. Oh wait. The game. We only got two rounds in before it got too late, but I had some good clean fun for once. No drinking, no drugs, no anything but good friends and a little mischief like us teenagers should be getting into. We haven't had enough of these kinds of days. I'm sick of drinking all the time, especially with all the same people, because I just seem to get in fights with the same people. I want some new opportunities to make friends or just an opportunity to hook up. All this bickering is getting old. I hate posts like my last one. They don't have any relevance to anyone but me. But damned if the bickering would stop, the posts would stop. I've come to realize that my mood is almost entirely dependent on one person, and it's not who you think it would be.

Now that there's less than a month before I go, I'm starting the countdown. 30 days, baby. Then I am outta this one horse town. I just hope the good-byes bring some closure. At least to a few relationships I have in mind.

This blog is the closest thing I've ever had to a real journal, and now that I know people are reading it (okay, only like 4, but still, it's something), I can't really treat as a genuine journal without scaring the shit out of some people. That sounds weird, but it's true. There are things going on in my mind that no one wants to hear, least of all me. I need to start a private journal that no one else will see, just to get some of this scary shit out. Speaking of scary, I'm beginning to have nightmares about that damn Veruca Salt from CatCF. That bitch is fucking horrific. And her demanding attitude does nothing to help my current attitude towards women right now. In fact, it only bolsters my attitude to new heights. *In a very disgruntled, senile, old man voice* They all want sumthin'.

Finished my Harry Potter book and damn that thing ends with a bang. I've already gone through how much I hate people ruining endings for me, so I promise I won't do it to you. As with every Potter book before it, finishing this one only makes me want the next one to come out faster. The lady has a knack for leaving us wanting more. After 7 though, I better not want anymore, or if I do, she had better plan to give it. Or I'll be uber-pissed.

It's late, and I feel a bout of insomnia coming on. I have a headache, which is never good, but probably due to the fact that I've been thinking too much, or I was out in the sun too long today swimming, or I'm sitting in a rather awkward position right now as I type. Any of these three explanations are plausible. I foresee that my headache will only get worse as I stay awake the next day or two. Oh my God, this headache is giving me psychic powers. Fuck Trivio, just call me Psycho from now on.

Currently enjoying:

Silence, still.


Next post: This one was a bit unexpected, but I like it. My psychic powers tell me that my next post will be about...ah fuck it, I don't have psychic powers. But you can still call me Psycho.

friendships, like a fine wine, only get better with age

Or they fall apart when things get rough. As I prepare to leave for college I am beginning to see which of my friendships will stand the test of time. And I have to say, the results are not encouraging. A few deep relationships that I thought would hold up are beginning to crumble and I feel powerless to stop it. Of course, me and my stubborn nature aren't helping the situation. One of these days I will swallow my pride and apologize for things I didn't think deserved an apology. But alas, that day is not today. My bet is it will be August 16th. Then I'm gone.

So here we are in another valley post, and this one is Death Valley. I'm not feeling very well, and even the Cubs winning can't fix it right now. I have issues that need to be worked out or I'm going to have a real nervous breakdown. If I don't get this taken care of, I'm going to go insane in college. To all my friends whom I've offended, all I can say is wait, your day will come. It takes me a long time to work up the courage to admit when I'm wrong, and at the moment I still don't think I'm wrong. I expect a lot of tears from me when I say good-bye to everyone. It won't be pretty.

To completely change the subject, I saw Wedding Crashers last night. Really funny. I was happy last night. Today is a different story, but maybe I'll see it again and it'll cheer me up. Well, I'm off to graduation parties and then I'll probably act like I'm fine in front of my group of friends and perhaps go sulk in a room by myself and finish my Harry Potter book. Page 474 baby! McNally, out.

Currently enjoying:

Silence.


Next post: Believe it or not, I'm not in the mood for boobies, so I don't know if I'll be going to Heartbreakers (which has been moved to Tuesday), but there's a Six Flags trip on Wednesday that sounds mighty entertaining.

my people were fair and had sky in their hair...but now they're content to wear stars on their brows

Instead of coming up with my own clever post titles, I've resorted to using obscure song lyrics and even obscurer album titles. This post's title comes from a 1968 Tyrannosaurus Rex album, and in my opinion is one of the greatest album titles ever. And I've never even heard the album!

Anyway, I got the 6th Harry Potter book today. And I'm only on page 12, so Sarah and Christina, who have been reading all night (and Sarah probably read the ending already), don't tell me anything about it. I like my suspense just like that, suspenseful. Some people like to know about their surprise birthday parties, or what they're getting for Christmas, or how The Village ends (DAVE!). But me personally, I like to be surprised. Is that weird? I didn't think so.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was pretty cool. Johnny Depp makes Willy Wonka a spoiled kid who you half expect to get sucked into the tube in the chocolate river. Wonka is no longer the untouchable chocolatier that Gene Wilder made him. Now he's just a 40 year old boy who didn't like his dentist father and can hold a pretty mean grudge. Needless to say, he comes off as a bit of a brat. I liked the back story though. Without explaining why he is so weird, Depp's portrayal would have been just that. Weird. But all of his quirky actions have some subtext, which Mr. Burton kindly explains in colorfully played out flashbacks (complete with swirly fade-in/fade-out!).

I'm not feeling all that talkative today, plus, I want to read. So I'll post some more after the weekend. Maybe something interesting will happen. Us boys may be going to Heartbreakers to get our hearts broken sometime next week. I'll definitely be writing about that (if I can get an ID that says I'm 18). McNally, out.

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Actually, that is a lie. But since it's so chic and cool to be listening to Wicked nowadays, I thought I'd throw it out there. Maybe one of these days I'll get around to actually downloading the songs. I'd still like to see the play and read the book, though.

Next post: I don't know. If I get to see some boobies at Heartbreakers you'll be the first to hear about it. I promise.

it's a bad wind that don't blow somebody some good

Ah, one of my favorite Secret Machines songs. But it really has nothing to do with what I want to talk about. I'm just listening to it as I post.

Anyway, I got this scholarship from the Postal Workers Union, and I have to go to the union meeting tonight to accept it. Of course, the All-Star Game is tonight. What is with all of this college shit impeding my baseball fanaticism?? First I get kickass tickets to the fucking Cubs game and my orientation lands on the exact same day. Now D-Lee and Aramis are in La Russa's fucking starting lineup (and by the way La Russa, grow some balls and start someone who's not your own pitcher. Someone who deserves it, like say...Dontrelle? Fuck your boy Carpenter. I would even rather see Smoltz starting over your little bitch.) and I have to miss it because I have to go to some 3 hour meeting for something that will take no more than 10 minutes. "And now, the annual NALC scholarship award goes to Andrew McNally, son of mail carrier Paula McNally." I go up. Shake the postmaster's hand. I sit down. Can I leave now?

Someone up there must hate me. Or maybe He just hates baseball. Mad props to Bobby Abreu, by the way. The man hit enough home runs in one night (41) to have what is considered a successful season. But of course, had Derrek Lee participated (damn that shoulder inflammation) he would have hit somewhere around 300 or so. But he knew that if he did that then everyone would have been there for around 12 hours watching. They would have been in sheer amazement, of course, and no one would have left, but D-Lee cares about the fans' health and wants them to get a good night's sleep to see him kick ass tonight in the actual game. He's just a good guy like that.

No Cubs pitchers, none of the former Big Three, and Lee has to bat after Pujols and before Edmonds (at least Lee's batting cleanup), but hey, tonight we're all on the same team. Go NL.

boy, 17, sinks deeper into quicksand that his life has become

Rockford, IL--What began as an exciting night of camping and friends quickly degraded into a stinking pile of depression for Andrew McNally, 17, Sunday night. After two measly beers, McNally felt a queasy sensation deep within him. Not due to the slight bit of alcohol, but most likely due to the bottomless pit that longs to be filled with one instance of true companionship before he leaves for college. Signs of bipolarity continued to rear their ugly heads as McNally was extremely excited for the night to begin, only to end the night tossing in his sleep wondering why he never has any fun anymore. This high-low extreme has been common occurrence in McNally's mind, dating back to early senior year.

As the summer reaches its midpoint, the only hope for the young man is the promising horizon of college, and perhaps a visit from Kate, who will be attending college with him next year. Kristen Erickson was quoted as saying, "You should really get that checked out." We here at 'california girls' heartily agree and hope that the poor sap takes the advice. Perhaps he should use one of his twelve free health clinic visits next year to get this taken care of.

On a lighter note, Andrew was reported to have had a much better Monday, where he watched three movies, A Very Long Engagement (breath-taking!), Million Dollar Baby (excellent, though perhaps not "Best Picture" quality), and The Machinist (pretty good, but not as cool as he expected). He also got to swim at Sarah Francik's and go in Sam Schneider's hot tub. He hopes to have more days like Monday, and less days like Sunday as the summer comes to a close. "I had a rough outing Sunday, but I felt much better today. I just went out there and pitched a good game, and I want to continue to do that for this ballclub. I really like it here," McNally said Monday night, after arriving home, starting his blog, and deciding to talk in metaphors that no one will ever completely understand.

Copyright 2005, Associated Press.


Yeah, so three movies in one day. And I was going to attempt to go for four. I just don't think I could have handled The Woodsman. By far the best movie I watched was A Very Long Engagement. For those of you who don't mind subtitles, or the French, you need to see this. The only thing is, sometimes you'll be reading the subtitles and miss out on some truly beautiful shots. This is one of the most creatively filmed movies I have seen in a long time. There are just some scenes that will steal the breath right from your mouth. As you can tell, I was duly impressed with this movie. Million Dollar Baby was really quite good, but Best Picture is a stretch. I really didn't see anything extraordinary about it. The acting wins (Best Actress-Hilary Swank, Best Supporting Actor-Morgan Freeman) and the director Oscar were well-deserved. But when I think Best Picture, the acting, directing, story, writing, cinematography all have to come together so perfectly that I am blown away. Of course, that's in an ideal situation where the competition for the award is mega-fierce. No offense to Clint, but I guess the competition wasn't really that fierce. The Machinst was confusing but cool to watch. There's really not much more to say about that, as you really have to see it for yourself.

Now I know there are some people out there saying, "McNally, you can't diagnose yourself with bipolar disorder." Well, I know that. But je fais ce que je veux, alright? Facio quid cupio. It is just my opinion about myself, but you all have to admit, it makes sense. I can seem to be in a perfectly happy mood one moment, and snap on you the next. You've all seen it happen, don't deny it.

I've only just realized how pathetic I am. I'm sitting here, blogging, in a wife beater (sporting the tattoo), my hair looks like a damn nuclear mushroom cloud, and I have my desktop online and my laptop pumping jams. How fucking shitty is my life? Wait, don't answer that. I already know.

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Next post: Hopefully, I can have some fun and keep my mind off of whatever it is that gets me down all the time. Like a certain schizophrenic once said to me, "If things don't ever change, they'll always stay the same."

this one is for all the ladies in the audience

I don't really know why that's the title of my post, since this is just gonna be the same old shit, but hey, we'll go with it. So I didn't do anything last night. It was boring. But today...today was a different story.

First, the lesser news. I fucking turned down another chance to go to Summerfest. Kristen and Noah offer me a free ticket and a space in the car, and I don't go because I, get this, hadn't showered. I'm so fucking retarded. Well, I guess I had sort of a good reason since I hadn't showered in two days and I had worked those two days so I was all dirty and smelly from laying rock. But damn. Death Cab would have been sweet as hell, and I guess I could have asked them to wait like 15 extra minutes or even pick me up since I am sorta on the way. I live at about the northern-most part of Rockford, if that is at all interesting or even relevant to my blog. We'll see how many more opportunities are squandered. The current count is 3.

Now the middle to upper news. Tom, Mark, Dave, and I decide to play baseball today as we often do. Everyone plays like shit (except for me, as usual. Haha, just kidding. I'm not an asshole...Seriously. I'm not.). So we call it quits, and walk back to the cars. Tom says, "Hey Dave, come look at this." So we mosey on over and Tom pulls out his air rifle. Dave (in his "Dave" way) goes, "Coooool. What kind of bullets does it shoot?" So as Tom is pulling out his little tin of bebes, one of us goes, "Oh my God, a cop." Tom attempts to do the old hide-the-gun-behind-your-leg-because-it's-pretty-much-the-same-shape-and-he-won't-notice trick. Has this trick ever worked? It sure didn't this time.

• Cop: What was just in your hand?
• Tom: Oh, it's my air rifle.
• Cop: What the hell are you doing with an air rifle out here?
• Tom: I was on my uncle's farm the other day and I...
• Cop: Well you're not on your uncle's farm anymore.

So we all get our IDs ran through "the system" and the cop gets some backup, who proceed to check Tom's Jeep for whatever they could use against him (other guns, drug paraphernalia, actual drugs, dildos, pornography, anti-establishment propaganda, etc.). They find nothing. The original cop, I shall call him Kenny from now on, decides he needs to call his sargeant to figure out whether or not to charge Tom with, get this, possession of a weapon in a public park. You know those signs in front of all parks that have the pictures of stuff with circles around them and lines through them? Who'da thunk they actually meant something. So Tom now has to go to court. Not to find out if he goes to jail or not, but to find out whether or not he gets his air rifle back. Ah, establishment wastes it's time on another meaningless "crime." Hope that Kenny doesn't read that on my blog or else he'll come and get me!

Finally, the biggest news I have is not my own. My thoughts go out to all of the victims of the suicide bombing in London. When I heard this, I thought, "Suicide bombings don't happen in London. They happen in 3rd world countries, not countries just as powerful as us..." And then I got scared. A shame this had to happen during the G8 Conference. Hopefully Tony Blair plays his cards right and is able to address his people and focus on the poverty crisis. The whole damn world needs a fucking psychologist. Is all this fighting really necessary? Of course not. Pacifism is the flavor of the month, in my opinion. Everyone should give it a try. Maybe if the terrorists try a good ol' fashioned sit-in, they can get whatever the hell it is they want. Does anyone actually know what these fuckers want anyway? Power? Money? Women?....Men? Don't these idiots realize that if they get power, then someone else won't like it just like they didn't before and then there will be other terrorists to get rid of the original terrorists? Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. But some would say that it rocks absolutely too. Unless you're getting blown up for being in a country that "has too much power" quote-unquote. Sorry we live a little better than you, but you know what? If you don't like where you are, don't kill people. Worry about getting yourself out of your metaphorical hole instead of putting everyone else in a very literal hole caused by a large explosion.

So anyway, Socialism...what? Sorry, I know I sound like a damn Commie, but if everyone would sacrifice a little, level the playing field, and just be happy with it, the world wouldn't have so much bad news all the time. Tell that to Kenny the cop while he's on his power trip.

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Next post: If I don't get to Summerfest, I'm gonna flip. At the rate things are going, be prepared for me to flip.

summerfest eludes me yet again

Two perfectly good chances to go to Summerfest, wasted. Somehow I manage to have nothing going on the 4th of July and Ben Folds was calling my name. I even have access to a free fucking ticket to get in, and two other people that are interested in going. Well, for some reason or another (probably the fact that the weather was hella shitty), those plans get abandoned. So instead, that night I drink so much I have no recollection of what I did or who I offended. And no one will tell me either! It's probably better I don't know, but alcohol-induced amnesia, or "puking out your memories" (do you dare risk the link??) as I like to call it, is really fucking weird. I remember getting to the house, my first 6 shots or so, then things get hazy. I remember some random events, i.e. talking to Kristen, conversing with James the bartender, stumbling around, etc. but other than that, nothing. From approximately 12:30 AM to 1:30 PM the next day when I woke up, I don't remember shit.

My next opportunity for Summerfest came the day I was recovering from said binge. I would have to pay for the ticket, but I wouldn't have to drive. I'm not the biggest Death Cab for Cutie fan, but I would have seen them in concert. But due to a mix-up of schedules (they play Thursday, not Wednesday) those plans are also scrapped. Now I don't think I'll be going on another bender tonight, but I'll find something to do. Maybe I'll sit at home with my shiny new laptop and listen to The Shins. On a side note, I've realized that I don't really listen to music for the lyrics anymore. It seems like I'm drawn to the overall sound not the quality of songwriting. Now that I really listen to a lot of the songs I've downloaded, I've been pleasantly surprised. I've rediscovered the most obvious layer of all music, the words. It seems that if the overall sound is good, the lyrics are usually right up there with it, because I still like the music I download, even though I never really payed attention to what they were talking about. I'm glad I haven't been listening to a song that has a kickin' beat but is talking about killing babies or something.

There's still a couple days left of Summerfest, so hope isn't completely lost. And there's always next year. And I have the Secret Machines concert to look forward to still. Summer has been looking up, or at least from what I remember it has been.

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Next post: Depends on what I do tonight.

stop the presses!

Music history in the making! Today, July 2nd marks a momentous occassion in the history of rock and roll, nay, of music in general. The reunion of the four original members of Pink Floyd. Although not technically the "original" members without Syd Barrett, the foursome of David Gilmour, Roger Waters, Nick Mason, and Rick Wright are widely considered to be the best lineup of the Floyd's history. Together they produced such legendary albums as Dark Side of the Moon and The Wall, but haven't performed together on stage in over 20 years. This is because of certain differences, most likely creative, between Gilmour and Waters. But thanks to Bob Geldof and the Live 8 Benefit Concert, they are back together and they were spectacular. They played a short set consisting of (from what I saw) Breathe, Money, Wish You Were Here, and Comfortably Numb.

The Live 8 concert is to raise the awareness for poverty in Africa. It is held in honor of the G8 Conference where 8 major world leaders will meet to make decisions that could change the way our world functions. Other performers, besides Pink Floyd, included Kanye West (performing "Jesus Walks"), Jay-Z and Linkin Park, Bono and Paul McCartney (performing "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band"), The Verve (performing "Bittersweet Symphony"), and Green Day with an awesome cover of "We Are the Champions."

For those of you who missed this history making event, either keep an eye out for it on MTV or VH1, or hope to get it on DVD because this is one that you'll want to show your kids.

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(Duh!)

Next post: Some edits to some past posts are in order. Next time I get a story as good as this one, I'll be posting.