I realized this morning as I got up early to watch the west coast broadcast of the Thanksgiving Parade down the streets of Chicago that I am incredibly thankful for nostalgia. The parade featured the cast of a musical based on Springsteen songs, a Garfield balloon, a Grover Balloon, and most notably, the world's greatest fairy tail Santa himself.
Then I turned on some videogames and played new versions of Street Fighter 2 and Mega Man, and it dawned on me. I've been doing just this for nearly twenty years (meaning playing those to games). Then I looked at my coffee table and realized I had both a Spiderman and X-Men comic book out.
I'm trying to become a doctor, a field where nostalgia doesn't fit and everything is new. My brain feels like a brick sometimes, filled to the brim with Hootie and the Blowfish lyrics and the Pete and Pete theme song. If I could lose some of those worthless little bits so I could fit in Organic Chemistry, I'd be much better off. Then I realized this morning that, where would all my fun go. If I didn't have nostalgic fun, I don't think I'd enjoy much. I only enjoy watching football because of having watched games in years past. I only enjoy comics since I've been reading them forever.
So here's a Thanksgiving toast to not dumping those worthless bits out of your brain and instead just being glad its there!
Nov 27, 2008
Nov 10, 2008
Obama Boom in Full Effect
The NYTIMES has proved that the Obama boom is in full effect. The only thing I find interesting is why one would name a baby Barrack. No one calls him Barrack. It's Obama. Name the baby Obama. I read an artical about the Obamas going to the white house and I thought "there are more than one?" until I remembered that it's really his last name!
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/10/us/politics/10babies.html?_r=1&oref=slogin
Bob Fantastic
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/10/us/politics/10babies.html?_r=1&oref=slogin
Bob Fantastic
Nov 4, 2008
The Obama Boom
Coming August 2009: The Obama BOOM!
Move over baby boomers and gen xers. This group of newborns will be raised by parents who celebrated Obama's historic rise to the presidency with wild hopeful sex of change, realizing that it may indeed be safe and ok to bring a child into this world. Others merely banged for the joy of it and forgot to use a condom.
So join in the ObamaBOOM and bang all this week, because your baby's future looks a lot brighter now. I already Obamabanged once this evening and I might be going back for seconds. Let's raise a generation of kid's with August 4th birthdays and positive outlooks on the future. To spice things up, feel free to role play. Tonight I was Obama and my wife Morgan was Michelle. In an hour when we're ready to go again, maybe we'll go with a throwback and I'll be JFK and Morgan can be Marylin. Remember, now you might even be able to pay for healthcare for the kid.
Contribute to a liberal America and screw nonstop for the next week.
This message was endorsed by what Obama is probably doing right now...
...making another first daughter to play with the new first puppy.
I don't know what God I believe in, but for the first time I can truly say God Bless America, now stop reading this and go bang like good citizens! OBAMASTYLE!
Bob Fantastic
(Bowchicawowwow)
Move over baby boomers and gen xers. This group of newborns will be raised by parents who celebrated Obama's historic rise to the presidency with wild hopeful sex of change, realizing that it may indeed be safe and ok to bring a child into this world. Others merely banged for the joy of it and forgot to use a condom.
So join in the ObamaBOOM and bang all this week, because your baby's future looks a lot brighter now. I already Obamabanged once this evening and I might be going back for seconds. Let's raise a generation of kid's with August 4th birthdays and positive outlooks on the future. To spice things up, feel free to role play. Tonight I was Obama and my wife Morgan was Michelle. In an hour when we're ready to go again, maybe we'll go with a throwback and I'll be JFK and Morgan can be Marylin. Remember, now you might even be able to pay for healthcare for the kid.
Contribute to a liberal America and screw nonstop for the next week.
This message was endorsed by what Obama is probably doing right now...
...making another first daughter to play with the new first puppy.
I don't know what God I believe in, but for the first time I can truly say God Bless America, now stop reading this and go bang like good citizens! OBAMASTYLE!
Bob Fantastic
(Bowchicawowwow)
Election Day
I've been feeling relatively cold to this entire election cycle, bitter about the last two and finding it easy to get really pissed off but impossible to be hopeful. Today there is a bit of change. I woke, and walked outside and thought, hey maybe for the first time in my adult life, I can be proud of the country I live in and not be thrown into fits of rage when conversation about the government come up.
Let's count out politics in my life since I can remember. I remember the end of Reagan with the end of the Cold War and the fall of the Wall. I also remember asking my parents what trickle down economics meant, and thinking, wow this doesn't make sense. The Bush 1. I don't remember his first run against Dukakus but against Clinton I got to go to the Republican National Convention. I was excited because Schwartzenager was there, and you know, I was just a wee lad at that point. I felt out of place the whole time. In my memory it was like being in church with more cheering and things making less sense. In my school ellection that year (2nd or 3rd grade) I voted Clinton. In a large suburban Houston elementry school I was one of three.
Then was 8 years of Clinton that started off with me knowing nothing, and ended with my knowledge of cigar use in sexual practice being greatly increased. Though I liked him better than the alternative, he screwed the country by screwing around. I believe Bush 2 was a direct result of Bill's penis going where it shouldn't have. I couldn't quite vote for Gore. After he "lost" I came into school and had friends calling me a pussy for complaining. Some of these friends are now liberal activists. Thank God times change.
Next came my first vote, I could get rid of Bush and worked my ass off. All I got was another dissapointment and a completely lifeless candidate.
All that said, this year, I am clearly skeptical. I won't and don't want to declare anything, but I will say this.
The air smelled hopeful this morning, like fall leaves, pumpkin pie, exhaust, and change.
Bob Fantastic
Let's count out politics in my life since I can remember. I remember the end of Reagan with the end of the Cold War and the fall of the Wall. I also remember asking my parents what trickle down economics meant, and thinking, wow this doesn't make sense. The Bush 1. I don't remember his first run against Dukakus but against Clinton I got to go to the Republican National Convention. I was excited because Schwartzenager was there, and you know, I was just a wee lad at that point. I felt out of place the whole time. In my memory it was like being in church with more cheering and things making less sense. In my school ellection that year (2nd or 3rd grade) I voted Clinton. In a large suburban Houston elementry school I was one of three.
Then was 8 years of Clinton that started off with me knowing nothing, and ended with my knowledge of cigar use in sexual practice being greatly increased. Though I liked him better than the alternative, he screwed the country by screwing around. I believe Bush 2 was a direct result of Bill's penis going where it shouldn't have. I couldn't quite vote for Gore. After he "lost" I came into school and had friends calling me a pussy for complaining. Some of these friends are now liberal activists. Thank God times change.
Next came my first vote, I could get rid of Bush and worked my ass off. All I got was another dissapointment and a completely lifeless candidate.
All that said, this year, I am clearly skeptical. I won't and don't want to declare anything, but I will say this.
The air smelled hopeful this morning, like fall leaves, pumpkin pie, exhaust, and change.
Bob Fantastic
Nov 1, 2008
May I spin you a story
I have not participated in this because any post would be about school, being broke, or politics, all of which in turn suck and are over done. Instead, I will post the beginning of a story I started writing tonight. It's only 2 pages in, but I think it's kind of fun and might give me back the creative energy to be a good enough person to be the awesomeest Bob Fantastic I can be!
So here's something completely different and hopefully more heartlifting than political television ads.
“Wake up dear, wake up,” cried Robert Fantastic to his pleasantly pregnantly plump slumbering wife. “I spun up some breakfast for us Elizabeth. It’s an incredibly-huge-never –bigger type of day!” Before waiting for a response Robert skipped out of the perfectly arched doorway that led into the couple’s colorful, cordial, and all together inviting sleeping chamber, or bedroom as it is provincially called. Once downstairs, Robert turned a corner without stopping. His red and white striped socks sent him almost sliding into a large fishbowl. Its stand, a somewhat precarious little table that balanced on one wheel shook. Fish have to get around some way and unicycles were all the rage. The fish inside went from a beautiful rainbow pattern to an irritated red hue. It swam back and forth quickly and the table steadied.
“Sorry Rod, gotta finish breakfast, I left eggbeaters waiting and I’m afraid they might’ve gone a little crazy while I was waking my beautiful sleeping Moople!” Inside the kitchen beaters were beating and whiskers were whisking while a giant flipperator flipped flapjacks. There were few surfaces not covered in some sort of flower, sugar, yolk, or glittery icing, but right in the middle of the room, on the island, an oasis, untouched by the culinary disaster were two plates beautifully decorated with ever changing images of Autumn leaves falling. Robert pulled out his wand and a bright blue bedazzled fork and waved them in the air while humming a little cooking tune to encourage a perfect presentation. Out of all of the scattered bowls and skillets came food soaring towards the plates. It all froze just before colliding in midair. With a sweeping motion Robert brought the wand and fork down and stopped humming. The food then carefully organized itself on the plates in what could only be described as an artistic breakfast.
“Thank you very much,” said Robert to the disaster of a dining area. He picked up the plates and nodded to two steaming mugs of hot cocoa topped with a glittery pink whipped cream solution that smelled slightly of strawberries and roses. The mugs floated and followed him back up the stairs. Before leaving, he surveyed the damage, and muttered a few nearly inaudible words of clean up. A few of the utinsals flew into a pile in the sink and a little broom began sweeping up all of the food that had been scattered. Sweeping up is litteral in this situation as more food was going into the air than anywhere near the bin in the corner where they kept the leftover mess in case mess was needed later. Robert shrugged, he had never been good at that part of cooking, but the food was always splendid.
He carefully made his way up the stairs, careful not to drop the meticulously homespun meal onto the cushy violet carpet. Flowers bloomed along the edges of the steps and brought life to the stair well. He could’ve levitated the plates as well, but Robert sometimes liked to have his hands in his own handywandwork.
“Breakfast is served,” he shouted in a voice too excited to be sympathetic to the woman still snoring loudly. The sun shone through the window onto her face and her mountain of a belly. The clock on the wall held a nine in one hand and two zeroes in the other. It smiled and looked over to Robert, wondering if it should go off as it was told or just keep telling time in silence. Robert nodded and set the food down on the night stand. “Mooptroop, this just won’t do.”
The end for now...
(and no Morgan is not Pregnant)
So here's something completely different and hopefully more heartlifting than political television ads.
“Wake up dear, wake up,” cried Robert Fantastic to his pleasantly pregnantly plump slumbering wife. “I spun up some breakfast for us Elizabeth. It’s an incredibly-huge-never –bigger type of day!” Before waiting for a response Robert skipped out of the perfectly arched doorway that led into the couple’s colorful, cordial, and all together inviting sleeping chamber, or bedroom as it is provincially called. Once downstairs, Robert turned a corner without stopping. His red and white striped socks sent him almost sliding into a large fishbowl. Its stand, a somewhat precarious little table that balanced on one wheel shook. Fish have to get around some way and unicycles were all the rage. The fish inside went from a beautiful rainbow pattern to an irritated red hue. It swam back and forth quickly and the table steadied.
“Sorry Rod, gotta finish breakfast, I left eggbeaters waiting and I’m afraid they might’ve gone a little crazy while I was waking my beautiful sleeping Moople!” Inside the kitchen beaters were beating and whiskers were whisking while a giant flipperator flipped flapjacks. There were few surfaces not covered in some sort of flower, sugar, yolk, or glittery icing, but right in the middle of the room, on the island, an oasis, untouched by the culinary disaster were two plates beautifully decorated with ever changing images of Autumn leaves falling. Robert pulled out his wand and a bright blue bedazzled fork and waved them in the air while humming a little cooking tune to encourage a perfect presentation. Out of all of the scattered bowls and skillets came food soaring towards the plates. It all froze just before colliding in midair. With a sweeping motion Robert brought the wand and fork down and stopped humming. The food then carefully organized itself on the plates in what could only be described as an artistic breakfast.
“Thank you very much,” said Robert to the disaster of a dining area. He picked up the plates and nodded to two steaming mugs of hot cocoa topped with a glittery pink whipped cream solution that smelled slightly of strawberries and roses. The mugs floated and followed him back up the stairs. Before leaving, he surveyed the damage, and muttered a few nearly inaudible words of clean up. A few of the utinsals flew into a pile in the sink and a little broom began sweeping up all of the food that had been scattered. Sweeping up is litteral in this situation as more food was going into the air than anywhere near the bin in the corner where they kept the leftover mess in case mess was needed later. Robert shrugged, he had never been good at that part of cooking, but the food was always splendid.
He carefully made his way up the stairs, careful not to drop the meticulously homespun meal onto the cushy violet carpet. Flowers bloomed along the edges of the steps and brought life to the stair well. He could’ve levitated the plates as well, but Robert sometimes liked to have his hands in his own handywandwork.
“Breakfast is served,” he shouted in a voice too excited to be sympathetic to the woman still snoring loudly. The sun shone through the window onto her face and her mountain of a belly. The clock on the wall held a nine in one hand and two zeroes in the other. It smiled and looked over to Robert, wondering if it should go off as it was told or just keep telling time in silence. Robert nodded and set the food down on the night stand. “Mooptroop, this just won’t do.”
The end for now...
(and no Morgan is not Pregnant)
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