His name is Buzz Lightyear. His name is Buzz Lightyear.

The first rule of drunk club is you must get drunk and ramble about drunk club.

The second rule of drunk is no seriously, no no listen, you don't even know, seriously.

The third rule of drunk club is that there are no rules, except that there are.

The fourth rule of drunk club is that if someone pukes, steps in a puddle of urine or drunkenly confesses an embarrassing secret, you must laugh maniacally.

The fifth and final rule of drunk club is, if this is your first night at drunk club you have to piss foot fight.

special request

Last Saturday I was hanging out with some friends getting drunk on alcohol. One of them left and gave the rest of us the impression that he would be coming back to the bar. After a few hours he still hadn't returned. I said maybe we had misheard him, thinking he said "I'm going to come back here" when in actuality he might have said "I'm going to comb my back hair." Tim suggested I should put that in my blog so there you go.

Ten things I want to do before I die

In no particular order...

1: Put out a record. Preferably a full length with art and the whole shebang. Physical formats, vinyl, CD, cassette. I tunes and CDRs don't count.

2: Tour. Worldwide preferably but nationwide would be great too. I'll even "settle" for just the west coast.

3: Fly a plane. Even if for just a few minutes. If i was sitting in the cockpit and they let me just keep it steady for a minute or two I would be content.

4: Go to space. This one will probably never happen unless you count that one time I dropped acid and......

5: Travel. This is different from touring as far as I know. From what I've read, when you're on tour you usually don't get the opportunity to explore the places you're at. I think Japan would be cool.

6: Write a book. I'm not sure what kind. Perhaps a novel, or maybe a tell all biography about the rise and fall of The Vague Prophets. I could get all nostalgic about the early days, how it was so fun and pure and about the music, man. And about how we struggled with our success, denying our super star status. Then about how Ben started slipping further down into heroin addiction. About Bagel's near death experience from auto erotic asphyxiation and subsequent departure from the band and new found faith in Jesus. And of Steve's untimely death during a fight at a Thailand brothel. I'll reveal how I was the glue that held the band together for so long but no matter how hard I tried to pull the band together I wasn't strong enough to keep the others from pulling it apart.

7: Be a guest on the Tonight Show with Conan O' Brien. Maybe as a musical guest or to talk about my book.

8: Renew my tabs on time. At least once.

9: Do something charitable besides drunkenly giving my jacket to a crazy lady or "donating" stuff to Goodwill.

10: Quit smoking.

It's not funny, my ass is on fire

I was considering putting a post up praising the nachos I made myself for dinner last night. I was going to go in to detail about how I meticulously layered the chips on the baking pan, evenly spread out the jalapenos, black olives, diced onions and tomatoes. I was going to tell you about the perfect 60/40 sharp cheddar to pepper jack ratio. And about how when I pulled the pan out of the oven I topped the perfectly melted cheese with sour cream, black bean salsa and few dashes of Frank's red hot with lime. These nachos were so fucking good I was planing on having them again tonight. That was before. Before the night of endless farting. Before the morning shit that brought tears to my eyes. Before the second bowel movement that erased any inklings of hope I still held onto that there was in fact a God. Now I know why there is toilet paper with aloe. It no longer seems like a mere coincidence that toilet starts with TOIL. Ughh, I'm never eating nachos again.

Commercials I would make if I worked in advertisisng part 1

I've often thought of getting a job in advertising. It seems like it would be a pretty easy gig. As far as I can tell you sit around on your ass all day and imagine clever little ways to market things to people that they either are already going to buy (food, toilet paper, medicine) or shit they don't need (snuggies, electric scissors, medicine for illnesses that don't really exist). Unfortunately, I don't have the "credentials" but if I did here's an idea I'd pitch to the firm.

Razor commercials, we've all seen them. They all work on the premise that shaving is the most unbearable thing in the whole world. Then they tell you why their razor is superior to all the rest and how it will make shaving the most pleasant of your morning rituals besides taking a shit and jerking off in the shower. My razor commercial idea doesn't really stray too far from the rest. The most noticeable difference in mine would be the use of contemporary alternative rock song "best of you" by the foo fighters. I personally hate this song. I think its radio safe mediocre fodder for aging spineless 90's "alternateens". That's exactly why I feel it'd be perfect for the commercial.

So this is my "treatment", that's what they call it in the biz I think.
Video montage of a man shaving. The man is visibly uncomfortable.( Talk to the guys in the visual effects department about animating glowing red areas on the man's faces where he just shaved.) In comes the music, loud and seemingly out of nowhere. The chorus repeats multiple times.(Is someone getting the best, the best, the best of you?) The man is visibly confused, looking around for the source of the music. An arm comes out of the mirror with a (insert the name of titanium multi blade razor here) in it's hand and hands it to the man. A manly voice over comes in over the music: "Is your razor getting the best of your face when you should be getting the best out of your razor? It's time to say hello to the (insert razor name here).With it's (insert number here) blades, flexible head design and unique moisturising strip, you can say goodbye to irritation and start getting the most out of your razor and your life." At this point a woman walks in the bathroom after the man has shaved. She begins touching the man's face to feel how smooth it is. The woman then starts giving the man a seductive smile and starts pulling the man presumably to the bedroom for intercourse. The man, still looking in the mirror, gives himself a self congratulatory look. The hand then reappears from the mirror and gives the man a "thumbs up."
THE END

Ben and Joe's BROmantic getaway part 4

This is what professional rock musicians commonly refer to as "band practice".

weird dream

I had a really fucking weird dream last night. O.k., here it goes.. There was an election going on in California (where I don't live) and Arnold Schwarzenegger couldn't run because he served the maximum amount of terms. There was a lot of buzz about who was going to run in his place. Then one day I was at press conference where Arnold endorsed Sylvester Stallone as the republican canidate for govenor of California. Stallone had recently lost one of his legs while performing a stunt for a movie, or at least thats what he wanted us to think. Soon afterward I found myself walking behind Stallone and another man and I was eavesdropping on their conversation. It turns out that Sly Stone didn't lose his leg on a movie set at all! He sawed off his own leg to help get sympathy votes. That was the end of the dream. So if you live in California, next time theres an election for govenor if theres a one legged Sylvester Stallone on the ballot, don't fall for it! It's a trick.