THE Original Saga

Here it is. The heart of it all. Our first rehearsal of the rmeount is tonight.

Robert Blagojevich Celebrates Dropped Charges By Filming Cialis Commercial

So the charges against former governor (and hair model) Rod Blagojevich's brother, Robert, have been dropped. As this pictorial from the Chicago Sun-Times reveals, he celebrated by filming a Cialis commercial with his wife, Julie.

Here are just a few of the shots from the filming:

And here are a couple shots that probably won't make it into the commercial:

Love at Comic Con

I went to my first ever Comic Con this weekend and it was amazing. It's all the fun of Halloween without the pressure of having sex at the end of the night. But who says you can't find love at Comic Con? I almost did.

In addition to sci-fi celebrities (like the "Final Five" cylons from Battlestar Galacatica and Rod Blagojevich) you can also meet and greet your favorite '80's wrestlers. Like my future husband, the Iron Sheik.

My friends wanted to get a picture with his highness the Iron Sheik, but a photo cost $20. So they cleverly decided to take a picture in front of him... but go figure the Iron Sheik's bodyguard shut it down faster than you can say "Boston Crab hold." But as the bodyguard is laying down the law, the Iron Sheik raises his eyebrows at me and gives me the thumbs up. I awkwardly smile back at him and continue to walk by. Then I hear "You're beautiful, baby!" and as I turn, I see the Iron Sheik giving me the thumbs up AGAIN. Two thumbs up, back to back?

Somebody pinch me. Am I in some Hollywood story? Is he the Aragorn (son of Arathorn) to my Arwen? Peter Parker to my Mary Jane? Han Solo to my Chewbacca?

Alas, I was so overcome with arousal that all I could do was smile and keep walking. But even though I walked away from the Iron Sheik that day, he forever put a choke hold on my heart. I don't think it's that crazy. Imagine me and the Iron Sheik re-flooring our master bedroom, riding the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier, and delivering meals-on-wheels to homeless veterans. Honestly, I could see it working out.

Here are a few things me and Iron Sheik would probably talk about:

• Pizza toppings
• How do handicapped people navigate snowy cities in the winter?
• The TV show "Hey Dude"
• If we had to choose animals to respresent our personalities, what would they be
• Country music celebrity gossip
• That video where the dancing woman changes her dresses like 10 times
• Types of apples we like (and ones we DON'T like!)
• Roller derby

I hope our paths meet again.

Emails I Received

Possibly Racist/Homophobic Random E-mail I received this week:

From: Billy (name has been changed to protect the guilty)

Subject: funny chinese guys

hey chris,

i can't explain why i thought of you while i was sitting in a meeting with the gayest, most insecure chinese banker on the planet last week, but, well, i thought of you. i think i imagined you working this character into a scene. he was a piece of work if ever there was a piece of work. he appologized incessantly for the most trivial little things. at one point he mis-wrote a digit in my contact number as he was filling-out an application. he proceeded to appologize as though he had just run down my mother in a car.

did i mention that he was really, really gay? that, too was funny because, well, gay guys are funny.

so there you have it. go to work. be gay and chinese. be so gay that people think your chinese because you're squinting so hard trying to be gay.

hope all is well,

Billy

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A Non-Racist Random E-mail I received this week:

From: My Aunt

Subject: Salmon Wars

Chris.....you forgot to add some chopped onions....I would have voted for your patties. Sorry Mary.

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Favorite Email from a Former C0-worker Who Now Lives in Another State:

From: Ricardo (name has been changed to protect the innocent)

Subject: No Subject

I miss me some Chris Othic. There is no one here as funny and good-looking as you are.

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

If you psychoanalyze these emails I must be gay, Chinese, a bad cook, and awesome.

I'll take it.

Try Not To Dance Even a Little

One of my favorite things in the ever of existence is when a new song appears and I really like it. There is so much new music I don't like or simply don't care about that when a beacon of musical newness delights my ears and heart I get really excited and must share it. So here it is:

Salmon Wars!

Well, there comes a time in every marriage when you have to break out of the old rut and try something new. And for Mary and I that something new was me taking her on in a cooking challenge.

Now, for those of you that know Mary, you know that she is a fabulous cook. Me, not so much. But after we got into a heated discussion about, of all things, salmon patties, it was time for me to take her to the proverbial woodshed.

Mary is an elitist when it comes to food, I think. She believes in using high quality, fresh, and simple ingredients and frowns at preservatives and chemically enhanced foods. Well, at some point recently I mentioned that I was in the mood for a salmon patty, and she crinkled her nose.

"What is that about?" I asked.

"Disgusting," she said.

"How can that be, it's just salmon, eggs and crackers. It's fried."

"Salmon from a can?"

"Yep."

"Like I said, disgusting."

Somehow this led to us talking about the virtues of canned salmon and the even better virtues of fresh salmon from the meat counter. I don't know what my point was but it ended up in an old fashioned salmon throwdown this past Tuesday night. It would be my old-fashioned family recipe salmon patties versus Mary's fancy Martha Stewart recipe salmon burgers. I was trying to make a point.

So I went to the store and bought this:

It cost around $5.

Mary, on the other hand, bought this:

Which cost this:

So, if nothing else, my recipe would be cheaper.

I have to say, I did have a couple of secret weapons. One was that I had called my mom and got the low down on how to make these salmon patties, a favorite from my youth. It was pretty easy, she told me, just do this and this and this and this. I was pretty sure I would screw it up. My mom said that was impossible. All Mary had was Martha Stewart, who wouldn't answer her phone calls.

My other secret weapon was this:

This is the pan I have been making popcorn in for the last two years. I've poured so much oil in it that it practically fries your patty for you.

Oh, and one more secret weapon:

My mom always served salmon patties with mac and cheese and creamed peas. I skipped the peas because I never really liked them and I'm an adult and I don't have to eat them and I will have a cookie and spoil my dinner if I want thankyouverymuch.

Mary had some secret weapons of her own:

Those would be a tartar sauce (yucky) that she made and also some pickled onions (double yucky) that she also made. If she hadn't purchased some Ore Ida french fries I would accuse her of showing off.

Once I got home from work the battle began. Mary cubed her salmon and blended it in the food processor (sorry, no pictures). The she delicately formed her burgers, after first consulting ME to get an estimate of "how long is three inches." Insert your own penis humor here, please.

I have to admit, they looked pretty good when it was all said and done:

The burgers weren't just salmon, they had some lime zest and juice in them, too. Like I said, fancy.

I forgot to take pics of me making my salmon (plus my hands were pretty messy) but I basically opened the can, took out the bones (Mary: "Gross!"), added two eggs and some cracker crumbs, then blended it up until it was "sticky." Then I masturfully formed some patties and popped them into the secret weapon with a little vegetable oil. Don't they have a perfect golden brown color?

Mary started hers as well. They didn't look nearly as tasty as mine.

And here is a side-by-side action shot of me kicking her ass:

While they were frying, we prepped our plating area. These are Mary's buns (pun intended):

And here is my beautiful plate with some lettuce stuff that Mary told me would make everything look beautiful.

Mary was nothing but helpful whereas I talked trash the whole time and tried to make her forget that her buns were in the broiler (which didn't work). I think I had more at stake than she did, like, my family pride.

When the patties/burgers were done, we plated them up. I added some more green vegetable leafy stuff that I chopped up to give my plate even more pizazz, and of course added the mac and cheese. This is probably what heaven looks like when you sit down for your first meal:

Mary plated hers as well. It looked okay, I mean, for a bunch of sandwiches.

Then we presented the plates to our esteemed judges (yep, we had judges, wouldn't be a salmon war without judges).

This is Don Loukota. His qualifications for being a salmon war judge are that he is our friend and he likes food. You can't tell from the picture but he also has a great ass (his words, not mine) that he could not stop talking about all night.

Our other esteemed judge was Elizabeth Drury. Her qualifications for being a salmon war judge are that she is our friend and she likes wine. She didn't not mention having a fine ass at the judge's table, and was a very cordial guest indeed.

Here are the judges saying something intellegent about salmon:

When all was said and done, they announced the winner, because of it's "complex flavors":

Pickled onions are complex flavors? Bleeeeecch!

Oh, well, at least I got Second Place--downgraded for "dryness and salmony tasting"! What did they expect. It's called a salmon patty, for cry pee sake!

I won the award for best side dish, though.

So there you have it. Mary 1, Chris 0.

I did have a salmon patty for lunch today.

The End

Pop Quiz!

From the world of Michigan politics!

Q: What is the most appropriate method of engaging in political discourse with a United States Senator?

  (a) Engaging in vigorous, respectful debate.
  (b) Spewing foamy spittle at the Senator as you blather irrationally about something angry.
  (c) Throw a pie in the Senator's face.

A: Clown it on down!

Don't you touch my Medicare.

God Bless America!

How would I murder Becca Levine? I'm glad you asked...

At least once a week, I invite fellow RvD writer, Becca Levine, to hang out. But try as I might to organize sushi dinners, beach hang outs, etc, she always has an excuse. In fact, last night she said, "I can't. I'm getting dinner with my landlord."

Are you kidding me? Is this the beginning of a '90's horror movie starring Nev Campbell? First he asks you to dinner, then when you show up, he impales you with a shovel, puts your body in the trash incinerator, and uses your ashes to fertilize the garden.

And yet, to Becca, an evening that potentially ends in cremation is still more appealing than us two ladies drinking margaritas on a patio of a Mexican restaurant and playing "Marry, Fuck, Kill" with the men of RvD (always KILL Greg Wendling).

Well, I won't stand for second place to the landlord. You've left me no other choice. I must murder you, Becca Levine.

Since Becca loves art - she sells it for a living - here are some ideas I've been toying with, any one of which would be a great way to murder Becca (click to enlarge):


YOU DID THIS TO YOU, BECCA.

Catching Up

Blog? Blog... is that you? Oh my God, it is you! How have you been?! Wow, it's so great to see you. God, how long has it been.

Yeah yeah, at least a month or two. You look good. You've lost weight?

Well it looks like you have. What have you been up to?

Yeah, Chris can get a little creepy. Me? Well I've been looking for a job and doing auditions. Me and Nat, you know - my friend from Robot vs Dinosaur? Right. We've been doing a side project named Crassus. That has been going well. And ummmmm... yeah. You know, same old same old. Ha ha ha.

...

...

Have you seen Inception? Loved it. Really well done. It's really mind bending but not so much that you get lost in the plot or anything. So... really good..

...

...

...

I did see that on the news. Yeah, it's great they got him out of jail. 5 years for a crime he never committed, I can't imagine.

Yeah totally. Add on at least another 10 years if that was the case.

...

...

...

Soooooooo....

That's right! We should totally do that again real soon. I.. am.. Pepper... Dennis.. Robot. Ha ha ha ha ha. Anyway....

Sure. Yeah, why don't you give me a call?

Yeah, before Mike moves.

Oh you didn't know he was moving? Yeah, to L A at the end of the month.

Sure, sure.

Anyway.... Yeah. Great seeing you too. Call Me.

Ok.

Bye Bye.






CALL ME!

What does your sleep position say about you?

I recently became addicted to the TV show "Lie to Me," a TV show about a man who figures out crimes by reading subtle facial expressions and body language. He is often enlisted by the FBI to interview suspects, but he also takes on non-crime related tasks - in one episode a very rich man wanted to know if his wife loved him for himself or his money. It's like CSI meets the Davinci Code.

So I've been fascinated by the idea of what our bodies give away about ourselves. And one interesting thing I found is that how we sleep says something about us! According to the Internet, there are essentially 6 different sleep positions with distinct personality characteristics:

Fetal Position (41%) Curled up on your side. Women are twice as likely to rest like this and it is listed as the most common position. These sleepers are said to have a tough exterior but are still sensitive and may appear to be shy but warm up quickly.

Log Position (15%) On your side with legs outstretched and arms at your sides. If you sleep on your side with both arms down, you are a social, easy-going person who is trusting, sometimes to the point of being gullible.

Yearner Position (13%) Similar to the log, but with arms outstretched. A close third is the side-lying position with both arms out in front of the body, with 13% of partipants sleeping like this. Yearners are noted to be open-minded and still cynical, suspicious, and stubborn about sticking to decisions once they are made.

Soldier Position (8%) Flat on your back with arms at your sides. These sleepers lie on their backs with arms down and kept close to the body. This 8% study is said to be reserved, quiet, without fuss, and hold themselves and others to a high standard.

Freefall Position (7%) Flat on your stomach with arms at the head or ears. Those people who lie on their bellies with arms under or wrapped around a pillow with head turned to the side, make up 7% of the population studied. Freefallers are brash, outgoing, and are very uncomfortable with criticism.

Starfish Position (5%) Lying on your back with arms and legs outstretched. These people are good listeners, helpful, and are uncomfortable being the center of attention.

For those of you who haven't slept with me, I spend most of my night curled up in the fetal position like an adorable hedgehog or velociraptor tightly clutching a nest of eggs. But I can't fall asleep in that position. I can only fall asleep on my back (a la "soldier" or "starfish"). But it's not really either one of these because I can't sleep with my arms down at my sides or over my head. Instead, they are comfortably resting on my chest. It is clear to me that they have left out an important segment of sleepers: the mummy vampires.

Mummy vampire (1%) Lying on your back with arms covering your heart. Indicates a trustworthy and faithful corpse. He or she makes friends easily, but will let few into the inner circle. Sensitive, introspective and likely to drink your blood for sexual arousal.

What else has the Internet missed?

Geoff and Nat: CORNHOLE KINGS!

*These guys love to cornhole*

The following is a 100% true and factual account of the cornholing that took place on Saturday afternoon at the RvD barbeque.


For those who are unaware, cornhole (also known as bags, beanbags, beanbag hole, sack hole, sack bags and corn sack hole bag) is a game in which you set up two boards with holes in the middle a certain distance apart and then you try to throw sacks (filled with corn or some other bean-type object) through those holes.

I had never played cornhole before in my life but apparently I’m a natural at it, as Geoff and I found out when we went completely undefeated through the entire afternoon.

Perhaps the most epic games were played against the Chris Othic / Becca Levine team, which lost every game to Geoff and Nat. Every single game. Regardless of this complete and total domination, Chris Othic kept shouting “rematch starts now!” at the end of every Nat and Geoff victory and, out of love for cornhole and a love of competition, Geoff and Nat continued to offer Chris and Becca an opportunity to win even one single solitary game.

It was embarrassing. But fun was had anyway, even if Chris Othic and Becca Levine never won a single game against Nat and Geoff.

No, not a single game.

All of these things happened, are 100% factual and not at all the complete opposite of what actually occurred.

Let this be committed for all time to the annals of history.