Speak Now or Become a Zombie: Guest Post From the Future!

So, since I'm way not cool or special enough to have a real person waste their time writing a guest post yet, I decided to ask my future self to write one for me. Unfortunately, by that point, I had become too cool and special (and douchey, apparently), and I refused to help "present me" in any way, shape, or form. But I put myself in touch with another dude from the future, Dennis. He was nice enough to give me some of the details about how fresh the future is, as well as some of the horrors that await us as a species...

Heeeeeeyyyyyyyy!!! What's bubblin' dudes and dudettes? So, I'm Dennis, and I'm writin' to you geeks and freaks from 2037. Your friend, Adam, is gonna be turning 49 soon. His surprise b-day party is being held at Leapin' Lizards I think (yeah, they're still around), so shhh. Now, I'm sure you're all probably wondering about the big questions like "who became President?", "who wins the Super Bowl?", "are there flying cars?", and "when do they revive Walt Disney's corpse and establish the Fourth Reich?" All legitimate questions, but I think there are several, more important issues you may also be interested in along the way. Probably the biggest happening in the past few decades (aside from the Bacon Shortage of 2025, which I'll get to shortly) was the Zombie Wars. I know we all joked about it as kids; maybe some of us actually dreamed of the day we would fight back wave after wave of the undead with nothing more than a shotgun, a Beretta, and a blood-soaked machete. Well, you will get your wish, fair citizen, and so much more.

Madison and Back Again: A Sibling's Tale

So, last night, my sister and I drove up to Madison, WI to see Marc Broussard live (as in, "play in person", not "watch him eat breakfast and go about his day"). We were a bit wary, as the venue was about a block away from the Wisconsin capitol building, which was, that very day, playing host to some 40,000 various protesters from both the pro-worker unions and the Tea Party. Thankfully, by the time we got there, only a handful of the protesters remained, and the city had quieted down to its (presumably) normal state of "hipster invasion". Beards, flannel, and ironically un-ironic hats were inescapable. And they naturally congregated to the Majestic Theatre for Broussard's soulful crooning, along with some really obnoxious business dudes (who, as luck would have it, stood right behind us); some drunk married women who wanted nothing more than to flaunt the last remains of their waning sexuality to a crowd of uninterested music snobs; and that one creepy, old, balding (though still rockin' a ponytail!) guy in the front corner who kept having rhythmic seizures to every song.

"It's okay! He's just dancing!"

Sleepin' Late on a Saturday: Discovering Marc Broussard

First, let me say I'm a little frustrated by this month's Musical Discovery, Marc Broussard. And you wouldn't like me when I'm frustrated.

That's your hypothetical computer, by the way, not mine.

Here's why: it is dang near impossible to find any (legal) quality recordings of this guy's music anywhere. Pretty much all the YouTube videos of him were recorded on cell phones or worse. He's only released a couple official music videos, and his fans seem to think that sharing his genius with the rest of the world is nothing short of a felony.

5 Life Lessons From an Altruistic Aussie

Now, I'm not much of a cooking show kinda guy, but every now and again I'll find one that intrigues me enough to bring me back for seconds (see what I did there?). Now, since my culinary experience mostly amounts to taking things out of their packaging and, if need be, microwaving them, I don't really like super-serious, ultra-complex shows; in fact, I personally think that the host is just as important as the food, if not more so. You might think I'd thus go for attractive female cooks like Rachel Ray, but you'd be wrong. See, the problem with Rachel Ray and her saucy (did it again!) counterparts, is that the woman is more delicious looking than the food. And, unfortunately, I can't make one of her at home with a few simple ingredients and a little elbow grease.

She comes pre-heated.

So, with the recent blizzard here in the Chicago area (well, all over the place, really), everyone's been snowed in, and I've spent some quality time on the Netflix Watch Instantly page, surfing for some good, lite TV to gorge myself on. I stumbled upon a show called Take Home Chef starring a charming Aussie named Curtis Stone. It's been a lot of fun, and I've picked up a few interesting life lessons to complement all the cooking advice that's gone in one ear and out the other...