Throwback

I just spent some time looking at an old website of mine I made while I was in college. I'm going to forgo cleverly writing a throwback entry in the style of the "blog" I kept back then. It would be so boring it would instantly inject ADD into your veins. Speaking of which, can you catch ADD? I know I never had it. Well I don't think so. My roommate has it. He also has X-Box 360, a nearly-full box of Corn Puffs, and Sperry Topsiders. I think the Topsiders make him look old, but distinguished. I assume the box of Corn Puffs won't be full for much longer. There are also lots of clothes on my bed. Whoa. Where am I?

Well I think I'm going to a party tonight, which should be really exciting. And I guess there's not really much to write about. My buddies Dan and Keeler are in Africa. I'm excited for them. But mostly jealous. I also burned the new Britney CD and am completely losing track of any semblance of cohesion in my writing. The Wild won the other night. Fun. Please continue to read this blog after this post. Or don't. Your call, really. Free will. It's what makes us humans. I'm getting a call, gotta go.

Spay and neuter your pets.

X-box hook ups

Never have video games worked so smoothly for me. I was playing X-Box live this weekend. Sure my roomie (who owns the system) was there, but we prefer switching off playing Live fullscreen instead of two-player split screen (Half a screen? I need a full television of destruction all for myself!).

Anyways, a lady friend of mine was hanging out with us while I was pwning those n00bs. When she got bored watching--she's not much of a voyeur--miss congeniality grabbed the headset from me and broadcast that Dbolt44 was in fact a female playing among the men. Now you've got to undestand, this is much like some boys club where everyone is content with status quo, but when estrogen enters the room, nothing else matters. Like a poker night. Or a sausage party. My teammates perked up and started chatting immediately.

Of course I only heard one side of the convo. Here's what my swiss cheese memory recalls:

"Hi, what's your name? ...
We just got back from the bars ...
You too? How old are you? ...
Where are you from? ...
Montreal?! Ooooh, you speak French!!!"

(she throws a couple French phrases out, and then it comes...)

"Are you on Facebook?"

In a matter of about 5 minutes, she was invited to Montreal to "play." I assume he's not planning on turning on multiplayer Call of Duty 4 with her, I mean, split screen just sucks.

Endorsing...

Now that Super Tuesday has come and gone and everyone has had their say, I think it's finally time for this great blog to endorse a candidate. No more lollygagging, waffling, flip flopping or panel tamping. This is serious business.

I think it's finally safe to pick a candidate that many other people agree with so I don't seem like I'm out of touch when that candidate loses early in the primary process, cause that would just ruin Driving with Rope's credibility.

Therefore, I can say with great conviction that Driving with Rope will now endorse Al Gore.

What's that? He isn't even running? No, I'm sure I saw him winning in the primaries, or at least he was always on the TV screen. Oh. That was the history chanel? I didn't have the volume up. Lay off me. I'm starving.

Screw it. Vote for Bon Jovi.

Checkin it twice

I have a seriously important decision ahead of me. My birthday is coming up and I need to decide what to do with it. Life or Death, really. I kind of feel like it's a similar feeling to the pre-New Year's Eve anxiety.

"Oh man, this party is gonna be great...well at least I expect it to be. I mean, it better be. It only happens once a year. No do-overs, so this party better be the best. Wait... what am I even gonna do?"

So it's time to plan. I'll start with lists. Lists of bars, lists of activities, lists of people, lists of drinks (I WON'T drink anything with the word "fire" in the title, I NEED to drink something with Red Bull). Maybe I should just have a list party.

"Everyone, come to my house Saturday, we're going to make lists. No, no, trust me. I've already made 563 lists this week, it's fun. The party will be fun. It HAS to be fun, it only comes once a year."

Got it. I'll use the self-fulfilling prophecy. Instead of worrying about it NOT being fun (which in turn, will make it suck), I'll just worry about it being TOO fun.

"Dude, check it out, Dustin made a list about the best dinosaurs. This party rocks. Pass me a jag bomb, it's on my 'yes' list. You! Get out! You're not on the list!!"

I'm excited.

No, it's a cardigan--

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And now, to explain the title of this post, a joke:

A blonde is driving 80 in a 55 mph zone. She zooms right through a speed trap and a police car pulls out after her. He turns the lights on, the siren, nothing stops her. He pulls up beside her and yells "pull over!" The blonde says "no, it's a cardigan!"

Burgers and Burgers

So I ate at The Nook by Cretin the other day. It was a dissapointment--because I couldn't eat more burger after I finished mine. The Nook has probably the best burger in the city (definitely top five). Read my assessment on Minneapolis Metblogs.