Back in My Day

I think some of the cartoons I "grew up with" were probably already old when I was a little kid. I honestly don't remember what the plot was for many of them outside of "stop (insert evil villain name here) from (insert diabolical scheme here). Yet I still feel like they were so much better than what we have today.

There were many good ones and I'm not dedicated enough to pay tribute to all of them right here and now, but the ones I remember watching the most are He-man, Smurfs, and of course Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

I actually feel this incredibly deep bond with Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Rafael. Whenever I find someone else who grew up watching them, I feel like we're connected somehow. Whenever I hear somebody talk about TMNT I want to stand up and announce in a loud voice, "I KNOW THEM . . . I DO, I KNOW THEM!"

One thing that made the heroes in a half shell so great (beside their ninja skills, love for pizza, and witty remarks they'd pull out in the middle of a crisis while fighting for their lives) were their enemies.

Master Shredder, um, hellooooo?!? If I ever ran into a ninja who wore a cape to go along with his metal face mask and helmet that had sharp shards of metal jabbing out of it I'd probably wet myself. And yet some how Shred Head isn't terrifying, probably because his goons (a giant rhino and a giant warthog) comically screw up every plan he has to start ruling the world.
And Shredder is just the start, who can forget about Krang? How solid is it that the arch nemesis for a bunch of mutant turtles is an over sized pink brain that wheels himself around on a tripod. Well obviously not good enough, because Krang eventually gets his body. Yes, a giant man with a tiny head who is wearing nothing more than boots and some red underwear. Oh and the brain fits in the stomach where he controls all the body's movements, naturally.

Krang, Krang, Krang, Krang, Krang. I miss your evil antics so much. For some time now, I've secretly wanted to go back and have marathons watching hours of my old cartoons. Unfortunately, I'm grown up now and don't really have the time. My only way back in is to start having kids that I can watch them with. Now I understand why people get married. Speaking of marriage, that April O'Neal sure is something else. I don't know of anyone else who can pull of a yellow jumpsuit so well. mhmm!

San Portella On My Mind

I've never felt so alone in my life . . .



HAHAHA! Ok, That was my attempt at being emo. The alone thing may or may not be true, mostly because I can't think of a time in my life where no one else has been around. Yes, I am now living alone in a 3 bedroom 2 bathroom apartment. Yes, I may spend a lot more time walking around between the kitchen and living room wearing nothing but a towel draped over my shoulder because I just got out of or am planning on getting in the shower within the next hour or two. Yes sometimes I feel like Will Smith in the mid 2000's low budget cult classic "I Am Legend." Except I don't have to worry about my dog getting infected by zombies because I don't have a dog, darn allergies.
The point is, that it's quiet when I get home from work and it's quiet when I go to bed. I'm not used to that. No bedroom or bathroom lights on, no talking, no interruptions, no having to worry about the front door suddenly swinging open when I least expect it . . . this may be the most unfortunate time in my life to not have a girlfriend, haha, oh well.
But I've learned to adjust. I come home, I turn on music, I take off my work clothes. I go to the fridge to grab some food. I eat my food while watching nothing I care about on TV for about 20 minutes. I go to my room and put on some non-work clothes, and I go to hang out somewhere else with somebody else.
Only once so far have I had anyone else come over. It was actually about 20 anybody else's for a BBQ (Bring Back Quinn, anyone? anyone?) Thursday night. It's funny because the 20 people that came over hail from about 10 different social circles, and you could tell that a lot of them didn't really know how to interact with everyone else. It was pretty funny for me to watch because I never felt awkward or uncomfortable, since it was at my house and I knew everybody. I guess I should've taken over and had everybody introduce themselves and tell some silly fact about their childhood and what object that starts with the first letter of their first name they would take on a road trip, my bad.
I was too busy being really proud of my amazing steak fillets that two people got to enjoy. The two hamburgers must've been pretty good too because they went fast. This is why more people should rsvp, I had no idea who was actually going to show up, everyone else got to feast on hot dogs, watermelon, and cookies. Note to self, always have more steak available, always.
Anyway, all this quiet time has given me the opportunity to make a birthday wish list. December is rapidly approaching.
Wish List:
1- It's about time I got a speedo
2- One of those fancy phones that is an ipod too, actually I'm getting one next month when the newest version comes out
3- Haven't gotten that far yet, feel free to give me ideas


Less than one month to go, I'm really going to miss this place.

Michael "Squints" Palledorous Walked A Little Taller That Day

Oh how I would love to create more posts like this one, except better, detailing actual dates and relationships and things like that, but I can't. Over the past few months, I've had a few people here in Arizona randomly mention to me that they have read my blog. It has dawned on me that I have no way of keeping track of who reads these words and once I hit "publish post," I have essentially just thrown the details of my life out there for the whole world to see.
The super radical mega babe from my class was a little different because our time and actions were so limited. We're not even facebook friends. She would have to do some hardcore online stalking to find the post in which I outlined my brief infatuation with her.
Sure I could fix this by blocking public access to my blog. The problem is that I love to hear when people (some who I don't know very well) are entertained by my opinion. I am not even remotely interested in maintaining a private blog. In fact, I would be a lot more dedicated to updating this thing if I knew hundreds of kids in China were faithfully reading each day and owned "I am Eskimo Nation" t-shirts that had pictures of my face on them (preferably with a moustache)
So, in the interest of not messing things up with any member of the female gender that I could possibly one day be interested in being more than friends with, I am going to simply say that recently on a certain day at a certain time and in a certain place that I probably shouldn't disclose, I had an experience similar to this:



Ok, so my version was a little different. I don' t think anyone would characterize it as sneaky, rotten, or low. There was also no swimming pool or CPR involved. All I'm really saying is . . . "Wendy Peffercorn." Maybe I've already said too much, or not enough. I might just end up deleting this post.