'Do Your Best' — Cub Scout Motto

My favorite story from the past few weeks has been this missing Cub Scout in Utah thing. I love this kid! I want to adopt him! He is definitely that weird kid you went to grade school with. He reminds me of the kid who peed his pants in fifth grade.

We did a project called checks where we had these fake checking accounts to teach us responsibility and shit. Our teacher would fine us for things like misbehaving or we'd get checks for doing extra work. So this kid (I'll call him "Bill") was using the computer at the front of the room (the one that brought me many happy moments while playing Oregon Trail) and "Bill" asked the teacher if he could go pee. She said because it wasn't a regular break time, he'd have to write her a $5 check. "Bill" was unwilling to part with any of his precious non-existent money so he quietly began fording the river. Apparently the stellar Mac graphics were too much and reminded "Bill" of his situation. He stood up in front of the class, looking quizzically at his soaking jeans. Poor "Bill" had peed himself rather than shell out the dough. The teacher felt like an ass (as she should have).

"Bill" also did weird things like begging teachers for empty Kleenex boxes so he could make desktop pencil holders and the standard booger eating. But for the purposes of this post, I must bring it back to my favorite Cub Scout, Little Bill, if you will. When the story first broke, it ran with the kid's school photo. Reason number one you should now destroy any bad photos of yourself. Your parents will give it to authorities and you will be mocked even though you could possibly be dead. We joked at The Daily Union that Little Bill was probably some hopelessly nerdy kid whose parents made him join the scouts to get him outside and we were right. We joked that this was probably the best photo of this kid and we were right. I don't watch television so Andy kept me up to date on the coverage when Little Bill was found. Turns out this is really what this poor kid looks like all the time — same slack-jawed gaze. What really drove me over the edge was reading what he did and his parents' comments after he was found. This kid pulled a total "Bill" and hid from rescuers because his parents told him once that he might get stolen. He took his parents' advice and warnings to the EXXXTREME!

Scared, tired, hungry and thirsty, you know what kept Little Bill going? He had ordered Pokémon cards off Ebay and was holding out hope that they had arrived in the mail. Turns out our "make the kid join scouts so he can get some sun" theory was pretty accurate. My little Cub Scout asked his rescuer if he could play a game on his cell phone.

Perhaps the funniest (or saddest) part was how little Little Bill's family believed in him. His mom admitted that she'd given up hope and had made peace with the situation. Jesus, woman, it was four days! As someone whose own grandparents question my abilities to exist in the world, I took joy in reading his dad's comments:

"Brennan continues to amaze us," said his father, Toby Hawkins. "You know, his ability to deal with this initially, I made the comment that I thought that he was the most ill-prepared out of our five children to deal with it, and now I think he was maybe the best-prepared." (cnn.com)

Andy said that the family, who are Mormons, was on Larry King to talk about the incident. The way he described it, it is once piece of television I wished I could have witnessed. Andy said Little Bill tried to pick his nose several times, each incident ended with his mom slapping his hand down. Total "Bill" move. Andy said Larry King asked Little Bill if he got hungry.

"YES!" Little Bill exclaimed.

CNN reported that the family said Little Bill "was born prematurely and he is socially immature as a result."

"He doesn't have any disabilities; he's just immature," Little Bill's dad said.

Please go hug your parents now. Try to stop laughing because I can't and you're a better person than I am.

This post is dedicated to Jousers (who interestingly enough was in charge of Boy Scouts during this incident), "Bill" and Little Bill a.k.a. Brennan Hawkins. Do Your Best little buddy and remember that you don't have to fish to get Corsola. To get Corsola you will need a Bellosom. You can go to Pacifidlog Town and chat with a lady in the house. She will trade a Corsola for a Bellosom.

Pokémon Trainer in Training,
AKS

wooooo working

If you were to suggest that I'm hanging on by a thread here in Amarillo, I'd have to give you a door prize. Cuz that's what I'm doing. Just barely clinging to my mental health and reminding myself daily that one day down means one less day to go. Go ahead, call me Debbie Downer. I'm past Debbie. I'm Stebbie. Ok, that doesn't make sense.

I'm bored at work kids. Don't be too sad after reading the above paragraph. I'm OK, just dramatic and frequently bored. But that's better than sickened, as I was earlier when I designed and edited a page mostly dedicated to BTK's horrific admissions of guilt today. Eeeeeep.

I'm still job hunting in Philly so if you all know anyone there (other than Neely who is already giving me the down low) please hook me up with contact info. I've found a few I like--one with TV Guide and one with a non-profit. Let's just hope this Dow Jones thing really does get me a job. Because if not... I suppose I've spent a summer getting to know myself better... or something like that.

BTW, I think I should say I miss the Kansan. Because I do. Really.

Stephanie

If Only We Could Edit the Ads ...

Hello Punky Brewsters,

I ran across this ad on our "Web site." I'm ripping a page out of the Ehren Meditz Guide to Style and Life and creating a contest. If you can find the mistake in the ad below and post a comment, I'll send you whatever goodies Andy, Donovan and I can scrounge up in The Daily Union's newsroom. I think there's an unused fly trap around here somewhere ...

Here's the ad:

AKC Black Lab pups. Parents good hunters + genital temperament. OFA Hips, vet check, family raised, $200. Wamego. Call 456-8928

Of course it has to do with dogs. I only write about and choose to run things that have to do with pets. Right Vaupel?

AKS

Disclaimer: Andy, Donovan and Bill are not eligible.

What a way to end my day off ...

With a call from Mr. Matt Daugherty himself.

I am coming to Gladstone tomorrow.
I repeat, I have an interview and I am coming to Gladstone tomorrow. At 10 a.m.
WOO!
-PP

Timmmmmmmmm!

Hello wonderful journalists,

Tim Janicke, the J-School's beloved photo j teacher took a jaunt through Kansas these past few days to visit some of his former students. Abby and I were on the ass-end of his trip. I was on the phone with (I am so important) Sen. Pat Robert's office, because after my two week lull following the murder trial, shit is starting to happen. You could even call it a shit storm ... So Tim comes in and I waved like a mentally challenged 2-year-old when I saw him all the meanwhile trying to take notes. As soon as I hung up, I yelled 'Timmmmmmmmmm!' Our newsroom is open so everyone can see who comes in. Abby and I took him on a tour of our expansive, multi-floored newsroom.

Not really. The Daily Union's building used to be a Safeway grocery store. The Montgomery family bought it and fixed 'er up real nice. The entire newsroom is open (which sucks when you just want to cuss out your 90's Mac but a nice farm family is up front trying to put in a classified for puppies). It keeps you civil. There is a funny Adam Pracht story that deals with this situation. Those of you who know Adam are likely chuckling and imagining what sort of social awkwardness Adam got himself into. ANYWAY, the newsroom doesn't have freakishly cramped cubicles or low ceilings like many professional places I've visited. It provides adequate space to sniper someone with rubber bands.

We took Tim to the press because it just started its run. I imagine that to Tim, ex-photo editor at The Kansas City Star and current editor of Star Magazine, our Lego press was the size of the one that produces the toilet paper Star editors use to wipe their asses with.

Tim then sat down to try and jazz up our two photo computers. One of these things is like the Macs we used to play Oregon Trail on in grade school. Tim found it humorous that we use Photoshop 4 on it. It was reassuringly familiar to watch Tim sit down and mumble to himself as he tried to fix the computer because I've seen him do that so many times in class and in the Kansan newsroom. It was sad to see Tim go, but I love that he took the time to visit us. I love Tim!

AKS

In my next life...

So I think I've found my true calling if this whole photojournalism thing doesn't work out... amateur wrestling baby!

I covered it last night and saw the glory that is wrestling on a small level - blood, spandex and all. The only downside was that it was held at the National Guard Armory and there wasn't any air-conditioning. The setting did provide an interesting juxtaposition, though, as it paired a long curly-haired wrestler in an electric blue speedo trying to rehearse his moves with an enormous army tank in the background.

But the fans were awesome and ran the gamut from one kid wearing a full leather mask of his favorite wrestler (again, there wasn't any air-conditioning and I'm surprised this kid didn't pass out from heat-stroke) to this cute middle-aged couple wearing khakis and polos. They looked like they had just stepped off the golf course, and I can only assume they were there giving parental support to their wrestling son.

Everyone should go to something like this - I don't care if you love wrestling, hate wrestling, or have never given it a second-thought. It is a true experience.

Courtney

Being an intern actually RULES, as it turns out, because it gets you free tickets to Oceans of Fun.
Love,
Prada Paige

Yay! Blogs!

So, I finally decided to post something. I've been told there has been talk of armadillos lately so I'll share my armadillo story.

The week after graduation, I went home to Larned (it still smells like cow shit if you were windering). One day i decided to go see my good friends at The Tiller & Toiler. Everyone was as I remembered them because nothing ever changes there. At one point the conversation hit a lull and Heidi, the girl who designs the front page and is my age, says "There's a dead armadillo in the alley. Want to go see it?"

Of course I say yes. Heidi, Shirley the payroll lady (who hadn't seen it yet) and I trudge through the press room and back to the alley to view the corpse of an armadillo. It was pretty disgusting as it was decomposing and COVERED in flies. It had been rotting in the alley all day.

Heidi told me that she wanted to touch it, well, actually that she wanted to knock on its shell to see if it was hard (That's what she said! I know, O'Toole, I know). I told her that she shouldn't because armadillos are poisonous.

What's sad is that seeing the dead armadillo was pretty much the highlight of the day.

-Donovan

Nudity, noise, no sleep, and... um, oh yea, nudity.

No, I'm not talking about a personal all-night sexathon. Although that would be... naw, who am I kidding? I've never even pulled an all-nighter for a test. Here's what happened.

A group of guys and girls decided to have a late-night pool party last night at the Parkway Commons pool, which is right outside my window. There was booze and babes (Kealing would enjoy this party). They were having a good ol' time. Too bad they were fucking loud and obnoxious, but I thought "whatever I'm not gonna be a square." Erin and I figured we could fall asleep and they would soon be gone anyway. For the next few hours, we tried to fall asleep to the rhythym of the metal gate slamming shut.

Well, 3 a.m. rolls around and that goddamn gate was still being slammed shut (keeping perfect rhythym, of course). I tried to fall back asleep, but was suddenly awoken to their "let's see who can scream the loudest!" contest. It was a close battle. I'm not sure who won. Still not squarish enough to call the cops, I fell back asleep.

Now it's 5:15 a.m. and again I'm woken up by the partiers just trying to have a good time. This is one hour before I have to get up for class. I fucking hate when that happens. It kinda ruins the enjoyment of sleep. Anyway, I finally boxed up and said "fuck it, I'm calling the cops." I just can't believe that everyone else in the complex (PC circles the pool) wouldn't be annoyed by them, especially the people with little kids above me. As I call the cops I look outside to make sure they were still out there... naked!

My eyes were still glossed over with sleep, but I'm pretty damn sure I saw naked people walk from the pool to the hot tub. Either that everyone was wearing a brown bikini bottom, including the guys. The cop car arrives about 10 minutes later and everyone scatters. But I looked out my window one more time and there were 4 people by the pool with the 2 officers. Erin said she heard a girl either laughing or crying.

That's my summer 2005 story. It tops last summer's story of seeing a girl give a guy a blowjob in the apartment above Erin's at Highpointe!

Kansan summer people, you should check the OTR for this report! Erin and I are curious to hear what happened. Even if you don't put in the paper, it would be fun just to throw it around the newsroom.

Now I gotta get back to reporting the controversy of the downtown trees. Tongie needs to settle down. Y'all be good!
-Nate

The Kansan marches on

Summer Kansan Wars Part III: The Revenge of the Wakarusa went to press tonight. Vaupel is awesome. He designs the shit out of everything. The rest of the newsroom stands in awe of his powers. Rest assured we will soon address the burning issue of male contraceptives. Nothing can stop us.

J.S.

An internship I'd kill for...

An internship I'd kill for...

Needless to say, I'm quite jealous. My excitement today was getting my mileage bumped up to $0.41. I only wish my paper would pay for me to go on an exploration of "nightlife" in Austin. Jeeze!

JK

Ass-deep in hippies...

Right, I know... it sounds bad.

Little known fact though, Wakarusa is actually a Native American term meaning "ass-deep." I guess it comes from the river, which has an average water depth that is about "ass-deep." Go figure.

After four days of covering the Wakarusa festival I've decided a better translation for the Native American word would be "Say no to drugs." I survived all of the madness primarily unscathed, if not a little sunburnt. That, and the fact that I was hassled by every security guard because after the first day people had made very convincing forgeries of the photo press pass.

The people I met were a real trip though. After leaving this one performance artist who entertained the crowd with his spray-painting abilities, I ran into a guy who asked if I could read minds. I apoligized and said that I couldn't. With a genuinely disappointed look on his face he responded,"Oh... see I'm having a little trouble reading my own right now and was hoping you could help me out." I did my best John Nowak impression, (I apoligize for anyone unfamiliar with the reference to a former Kansan photo editor) shrugged my shoulders and said, "Fuck man... good luck with that." That same day I had taken pictures of a girl decked out in butterfly wings and gold aviators and was trying to get her name. "Oh you want my name... cool... it's "g" as in good... "i" as in infinite... "r" as in Arrrr... (giggle)... "n" as in Na-nanna... (giggle)..." Needless to say, the fourteen or so letters she gave me far from resembled a first name.

I was offered everything from a swig of wine, a hit from a pipe and something that I couldn't really even identify. One old guy with a two-foot-long white beard even proposed. Two gyrating, topless girls closer to the stage caught his attention though, so I guess it wasn't meant to be.

But I did learn an important lesson - I am the hugest square in the world. This is only solidified by the fact that I'm pretty sure only square people would use the term "square."

Oh... and hula hoops. Who knew?

Courtney

PS. I just missed getting a shot of a dog sqautting and taking a dump in front of a row of porta-potties and a mountain of trash. It would have been a deep, insightful comment on on the human condition.... or something.

I See Famous People

To everyone in the newsroom who made fun of Austin, Azita and I for loving US Weekly, you may want to stop reading now. (Hey, at least you were warned) So this weekend I had a friend from home in town and we decided to go check out my neighborhood. (Seriously check it out, not just walk to Macy's.) I had on heels (of course) and was getting really tired of walking and starting to get a little grumpy. I know, I know... Shocking. Well, he made me keep going until we hit a subway station. All of the sudden, he stops and goes, "Holy shit, that's Ben Affleck." We turn and stare, and, sure enough Ben and Jen Garner are leaving Jeffrey, a super-trendy clothing store in Chelsea. Just as a sidenote, yes, she does look pregnant. Girls, don't get excited. He looked like trash. Seriously. Not fit and in need of a shave. Yes, it is possible for him to look bad. I wouldn't have believed it had I not seen it with my own two eyes. God, I love this city...
Bechard

Where have all the updates gone?

I'm writing you all while sitting on top of a four-foot high dresser, as my free internet in my bedroom has been taken away. Now, I have to walk down the hall and make sure the computer is elevated a minimum of five feet in order to find any sort of signal. I'm hopeful that the way radio waves travel at night also affects Wi-Fi, and I will still be able to cruise the net from my room when it's dark outside.

For those of you who are lucky enough to be returning to the Kansan in the fall, it's just a few short weeks away, seven I believe. I know you're all pumped. Internship is well. We're starting a newsroom challenge to see who can lose more BMI points. Winner gets $60. It's a nice incentive, I think. Hope you all are well. LET'S GET THESE POSTS COMING. Big thanks to Neely and AKS for providing some excitement, but all the rest of you still need to post.

Still wanting visitors,
Kealing

Only 179 words!

Greetings and Salutations!

Things in the Junk are going well. Andy and I are getting a handle on layout. Ugh. The beat is going well. Dealing with my beat is like dealing with a certain athletics department — but much, much scarier. Both Web sites suck and are the bane of my existence! Enough of that though.

I am confident y'all are doing well! I've pranked the newsroom once but it didn't work so well because Vaupelocity couldn't understand me. "ANDREW VAUPEL WEARS PANTIES."

I got another wedding invitation in the mail from a high school classmates. I'm thinking of going. I've turned into such a pantywaist.

My grandma left a message on my voicemail: "Amanda!? I didn't think your phone's been workin'! Your dad's been tellin' me it hasn't been workin'! PAUSE. How are you doing?!. LONGER PAUSE. CLICK."

Just breathe.

Love,
AKS

P.S. See? A whole post without any mention of the boyfriend! Damn ... Anywho, check out my facebook profile to see what he sent me at work! I'm disgusting, I know. I apologize. I've lost my edge.

Quote of the day

"5.3. That's not even enough to mix a martini." -An editor, after waiting to see if the California earthquake was going to be front-page news

I also found out there's a press club here in Philly. But it's a little different than ours. As it turns out, there's a bar that's open until 4 am (all the others close at 2) that welcomes anyone from the service industry and anyone with a press badge. What's that? I can show up any time after 2 am and show my Inquirer ID and get in? I'm in love...

NJS

P.S. Yahoo headline at 3 am Eastern: "Legal woes may shut down Kansas schools." Thank you, Kansas, for making us the laughing stock of the nation, once again.

I don't want to miss Johnny's!!!

Any KC Kansan alums or other want to head up K10 with me for press club tomorrow? I miss the newsroom crowd (yes, even Vaupel) and I want a burger!!
I have work until 5 but I can leave straight from there. Call me if you want to ride together. Also, anybody else going who isn't on summer Kansan?
In other news, I have been looking at apartments in KC nonstop, found one I LOVE (see my eljay) and called Matt Daugherty today at the Dispatch Tribune. I think he now believes that I'm stalking him. But if it gets me an interview, I'll be all happy and beamy.
Just played tennis with my mom's husband and now it's time to get in our hot tub. Aren't you so jealous?

-Prada Paige

Vockrodt can sure dampen the mood

Don't let Vockrodt scare you. Just post at home and avoid libeling any of your co-workers. It's not too hard. In order to get things hopping again, I'm going to unvel my much-anticipated Away Message Report.

I had hoped to wait until I had juicier tidbits, but Vockrodt has forced me to make an early debut. So here they are...

Auto response from AmandaPandaKim (11:42:41 PM): busy TALKING TO MY BOYFRIEND

Auto response from beendreamingof (6:58:38 PM): dear eight-hour days,
you are simply too much.
consider shortening yourselves.
love,
paige

Auto response from libbitz11 (10:45:40 PM): michelle: you do not have worms
kyle: you're going to get a job with the red sox and take me to games
vaupel: why aren't we running?
joe: how was the job?
box: when will we get jobs??
nate: the BBQ is tomorrow, buddy!
aks: you and your boyfriend are disgustingly in love.
connor: i think the best of tongie days is on saturday. boo!

Auto response from beendreamingof (11:48:22 PM): bed. seriously. how am i always so tired?

Auto response from libbitz11 (9:02:12 PM): working out the details of camp journalism ... yeah, i know, i thought it, too.

Auto response from AmandaPandaKim (9:03:01 PM): ok, so i received two dozen, long stemmed, red roses at work today. i love this guy.

Auto response from beendreamingof (9:03:12 PM): i want to get roses at work.
what the hell.

Auto response from TLStarbolt382 (9:04:17 PM): Americans were deeply disturbed to find out that their president, Richard Nixon, was pretty much the same as their crazy black-sheep uncles and/or themselves, and they never really lived it down.


Remember, I'm always watching.

Watch your ass

Be careful what you say on here.

Enjoy the link for now. I have a manifesto coming up later tonight. I think Kealing might know what this is about.

I need to go for a run to clear my mind and settle my emotions.

— Vockrodt Jayhawk Go KU

http://news.yahoo.com/s/usatoday/warningyourcleverlittleblogcouldgetyoufired

I hate KMart

So my less-than-spacious living quarters are missing three very important things: air conditioning, television and internet access. After countless e-mail/phone hints to my father (Gosh dad, it's just so hot here... well I don't really know anyone and I just get kind of bored and lonely at night... ), he said to "get what I needed" and we would work something out. I should've known the process would be a struggle when I went to the front desk of my building to pay for an AC rental. Do you know what they said? We'll try to get it installed some time this week." WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? Hey, thanks for your $200, maybe we can work something out by Friday? Grr... Then I ventured four blocks down to KMart. The guy not only sold me a three-pronged power strip for my two-pronged outlets, but also convinced me that the $38.99 rabbit ear things were "such a better investment" than the ones for $9.99. Electronics are the devil. But here's the kicker... I had to pay them $30 to deliver my tv FOUR BLOCKS. I even tried to pawn a cart off them and promised I would bring it right back. Nope, they weren't having it. Then they give me a 3 1/2 hour time frame when it could be delivered. I couldn't leave my room from 7:30-11 pm. Well, 11 pm rolls around and still no tv. I call and they tell me they've forgotten to put it on the truck. Really. That's super. Now I have to have a repeat performance of last night's waiting game and persuade a non-English speaking manager that I should get my money back. So as not to be entirely pessimistic, I've come up with three good things about life — 1. My biggest worry at work is the fact the PR lady sent me Valentino glasses instead of Gucci. 2. I'm coming home for five days during the 4th of July weekend and 3. (AKS, this is for you...) People is releasing its annual "50 Hottest Bachelors" on Friday and five of them are in the lobby of my building for a meet and greet this afternoon. Sigh... Will get back with everyone on how the $38.99 rabbit ears are working...it had better be damn good.
Bechard

Fueling the OC addiction...

Well, we broke 100 for the first time today. When I left for work at 8 AM, it was already above 80 and heading north in a hurry. I'm not cut out for this.

My brother's been down here visiting for the last few days. It's been a really good time. Last night we drove to this small Texas town that bills itself as the world's capital of BBQ. It was good, but world's best? I'm not sold. We also went to a restaurant downtown that reminded me eerily of the restaurant in San Francisco. (I had a gift certificate form work.)

Today was the first payday since I've been here. It felt good to get a check for the approximately 20 stories I've done in the 3.5 weeks I've been here. I have three stories coming out on Friday, one of which is about - you guessed it - sports. As the resident expert on the topic, anything from anyone's beat that has to do with sports gets handed to me. Not that I'm complaining. I guess working for the Kansan has given me a bit of a unique expertise on he topic.

Lastly, for those of you wondering what the blog hed was about, I have some insider info on Season Three of The OC! Fox ordered 27 episodes and will air the first three before baseball in October. That means OC IN SEPTEMBER! Almost more than I could dare hope for.

Happy Wednesday everyone! Stay in touch. If you're ever bored in the cool midwest or northeast, I'm always looking for visitors and I have three unfurnished bedrooms with floors you can sleep on.

Kealing

Still 90+ every day. Still living without A/C.

Stephanie, I'm going to let that night editor comment slide because it frightens me how similar our lives are right now. You could pretty much list those things, hour by hour, for me, except that I go out and walk around about 11:30 so that I can buy lunch, because, despite the fact the grocery store is on the back side of my block, I haven't bought groceries. And I usually opt for a fuzzy NBC over PBS.

My advice to Rupal: Still visit Philly and NYC. No matter what days of the week you have off, it's still your weekend. And traffic around the cities can be really unbearable Friday-Sunday, so it's almost better when you travel on weekdays. You are, of course, always welcome in my unair-conditioned, couchless apartment.

As for my life at the paper...I am what Meditz (former Kansanite, for those of you who missed out on the Ehren Era) would call a wire ninja. Actually, I'm on the wire ninja desk. The banner above us says National/Foreign, but I'm going to try and get that changed in the next eight weeks.

I do get my own desk this summer. It's actually someone's desk who is only part-time right now. I immediately felt at home there because taped to the screen was a yellowed headline that read "Love those Jayhawks." At first I wasn't sure if it was our Jayhawks or the band The Jayhawks, but either way I was a fan. Then I noticed a postcard of a KU Jayhawk and knew it would be all good. Or so I thought. Because the next thing I noticed were the FOURTEEN pictures of a baby. Eww. Apparently this copy editor is part time because she had a baby a year ago. Apparently she's afraid she's going to forget this during her 7.5-hour shift she works once a week.

Another unfortunate aspect of my desk: I'm across from this reporter who scares the bejesus out of me. My first night of work, she was on the phone with someone. Her voice was penetrating my brain and I couldn't copy edit, so I was forced to listen to her conversation. It sounded like she was talking to her editor. They were discussing some project, and then she just started shouting. The person on the other end of the line had apparently gone on vaction without telling her about something, and she was livid and incredulous. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!" "You're going to be long for how long?!?" "It would have taken a few minutes to talk to me!" "I can't believe this. You know what, I can't talk to you anymore." Slam receiver into cradle. I live in constant fear of accidentally making eye contact with her. Sometimes I glance up when she walks by, quickly realize it's her, and contemplate where I'll place the stone statue of myself she bound to turn me into. I don't think I have much to worry about, though. I've never seen her acknowledge anyone who's not her boss.

And finally, my O.C. update. I have finished season one. Sick but true. I even managed to get someone else hooked. One of my roommates from Lawrence, Tyler, stopped through and stayed with me last weekend on his way to (and you thought newsies might be dorky) opera camp in upstate NY. Twelve hours later, he was ready to buy himself the DVDs so he could finish it after he left. Doubly sick.

Neeley

I just had an epiphany.

Tonight I realized I could never live on a farm.

Erin and I decided to make fresh tomato soup with the Magic Bullet blender I bought her for her b-day last month. The recipe called for one tomato, one garlic clove, milk and chicken broth. Because I don't mix meat and dairy products ("Jewish suburban cowboy here), I used veggie broth. After blending no longer than 10 seconds (cuz that's what the Magic Bullet guaran-damn-tees), all-natural tomato soup was ready to eat.

It tasted like ass! It needed sugar! Hell, it could've been the veggie broth that fucked everything up. But Y'all, all I know is God made preservatives and artificial sweeteners for a reason!

The soup was TOO tomatoee. I also left in the seeds and pieces of the rind. Erin had pieces of garlic skin in her soup.

We dumped the shit down the garbage disposal and went to Applebee's.

So the only natural tomato soup I am going to eat from now on will come from the Campbell's farm where I'll pick a can off one of its trees or vine or wherever the hell tomatoes grow.
-Nate

p.s. my first bylined story hits the doorstep tomorrow! Check it out. It could affect you... actually no it won't unless you're a member of THE Tonganoxie Public Library.

hooah!

Hi friends and neighbors,

I am at risk of becoming the Kansan blog addict. I am enjoying not having to cover a murder trial. Crazy, I know. I have covered several redeployment ceremonies at Fort Riley though. Redeployment is when soldiers come back from war. Deploying means they go to war. Anyway, the people I covered were part of the 1-41 from Fort Riley. They had been gone to Iraq for a year, their biggest role being the security forces during the elections. Whatever you views on the military and the war, it is a pretty spectacular thing to witness a redeployment ceremony. You have to remember that families have been separated for one year, sometimes know knowing where their loved ones were or if they were even alive.

Family members gather in this huge hangar and sit in folding chairs facing a stage-like area. People have made signs, everyone is all decked out in red, white and blue and girlfriends dress like it's a Saturday night and they're looking to snag a KU basketball player. Soldiers start to walk in single file, shaking the hand of a high-ranking dude. They have to line up in formation on the stage-like area in front of the families. A podium is in the family area, facing the soldiers. These soldiers have to stand in formation, right in front of their families, many who are screaming and waving and clapping. You know that these soldiers are just bursting inside and all they want to do is run and smooch their families. A dude gives a prayer, the big dude gives a speech, there's a moment of silence and then the National Anthem. Then more speech by the big dude. There is this excitement that just keeps building up until it's at the point when families are just unable to sit. The big dude basically says, "GO!" and the families rush out. It is a pretty great moment, regardless of how you view the military.

I feel stupid trying to go up and talk to the soldiers and their families once they've been reunited. It's hard not to ask stupid questions. How do you think they feel, douchebag? All in all, I'd recommend that anyone see one of these things just to remind you that people are people, no matter what job they do. Plus, how can you resist a 7-year-old girl say, "I just want to hear my daddy laugh."? Come on, even Michael Moore would eat that shit up.

Until I have another epiphany,

AKS

P.S. O'Toole had a great centerpiece in yesterday's Des Moines Register

Howdy from Amarillo (kill me now)

So, it's your favorite night editor, Stephanie (it's OK, I always knew you liked me better than Bob), writing from the Texas Panhandle. Yes, I'm in Amarillo, Texas, and it's exactly as bad as you'd think it is. Then again, if you all were here, it would be pretty sweet. I'm working Thursday through Monday on the Amarillo Globe-News copy desk. The people are nice and I'm getting the hang of things, but I've already decided three things: 1) I don't want to live here (duh) 2) I don't want to work nights in my career (duh....also a problem considering my job training) 3) I miss Lawrence like you wouldn't believe. Ok, so none of that was really a revelation. Anyway, since I'm apparently still typing, I'll tell you what a typical day is for me:

10:20 a.m. -- Wake up and realize I should have gotten up an hour ago, as day is wasting away.
10:32 a.m -- Turn on public television, as it's the only decent channel I get. Watch afro-painter guy and wish I had his skills.
10:50 a.m. -- Call boyfriend. Tell him I'm (still) lonely. Phone cuts out because planes from nearby airport randomly end my calls. Curse.
11:25 a.m. -- Go for a run/work out at so-called Recreation Center that has no elliptical machine.
12:20 p.m. -- Make lunch (same every day) -- turkey and provolone on wheat with Cheez-Its. Wonder about food intake and its health-fullness.
1:00 p.m. -- Check email on roommate's computer. Get absorbed on Facebook on accident.
1:40 p.m. -- Take shower. Have difficulty shaving because can hardly bend over.
2:15 p.m. -- Friend (insert name here) calls. Am thrilled. Phone call gets cut out by plane after 10 minutes. Curse.
2:30 p.m. -- Read book.
3:00 p.m. -- Leave apt and go to Walmart (against will) to buy frozen something for dinner.
4 p.m. -- Arrive at work.

Anyway, if you are bored, email me at steph.lovett@gmail.com.

You know you're in a small Kansas town when...

the "historical site" is comprised of a barn, a church and a schoolhouse (yes, schoolhouse... I don't even know if it's really one word). Vive le Tongie.

Since I'm no longer in the newspapers

Hey everybody, this is Andy Marso. I haven't been around the newsroom for awhile, so some of you might not know me. I guess you'll just have to trust that I'm as super-cool as everyone says I am.

Big thanks to Amanda Kim for telling me about this blog, although I must admit I've been driven insane with jealousy at times while reading about the experiences all of you are having. But I'm happy for you too, really. Most of the time. Anyway, here is an update on my ongoing recovery, since I haven't appeared in the news recently (amazing how quickly those media types forget):

I've moved back to St. Cloud, MN and am living with my parents in the same house that I spent most of my childhood in, which is both comforting and boring. I'm still in a wheelchair, with a big metal brace on my right foot, but that may change soon. I'm supposed to go to the Twin Cities on June 22 to see Dr. Cole, an orthopedic surgeon, about getting this thing off and trying to walk again. My left foot is doing well, and has graduated from a walking boot to an brace that fits inside a normal shoe, with some foam padding in the front to fill in where my toe used to be. This brace is known as an AFO (Ankle-Foot Orthosis), not to be confused with LFO (Light, Funky Ones), the short-lived boy band that brought us "Summer Girls."

Otherwise there is little excitement in my life. I start Physical and Occupational therapy this week. The equipment and facility is nicer here than at KU Med, but instead of attractive, young, female therapists, which I had at KU, here I will be instructed by a dude and a middle-aged woman. But I guess it is a fair trade-off.

I'm looking forward to the end of the month, when fellow newsie Louise Stauffer comes to MN for a check-up at the Mayo Clinic. We're arranging a little get-together, and it will be really nice to see her. And to complain about how shitty it is to be at the mercy of the health care industry for a year. I'll let you all know how that goes.

--Andy

When humanity sucks

Today was the last day in the Stanley court martial. I really hope that you read some of the AP coverage. This trial has really affected me mentally and physically. It's incredibly depressing sitting there and witnessing what can happen to people when they've really hit a low point.

Despite the sadness, it is thrilling to get to cover something like this so soon after starting. It is a kind of morbid thrill really. I mean, I've been covering it since Monday and there are times when you're sitting in there, surrounded by people who really should be there — friends and family of the accused, friends and family of the victims, soldiers who served with these guys — and you're just some asshole journalist, scribbling down every little detail and anything quotable. You're in that, "This is gonna be a sweet clip" mode and you forget the seriousness and impact of what's going on around you. You are the least necessary person there. Really. And it's hard not to want to console every person.

There are times I would make eye contact with people and share this mutual moment before we both realize what's going on. I started this trial all uppity about my role there, but came to realize that I can do my job and still feel like a person. You can still sympathize with the victims' families, treat the accused like a person when he makes eye contact with you and gives a forced smile, joke around with the MPs at the metal detector and be shocked when the verdict and sentence are read aloud.

So this is definitely turning into a long, babbling mess about how this trial has engulfed me. The reporter who covered it when it first happened in Sept. 2004 said it still affects her. I've never covered something that's had such scope, and I have been thinking about it a lot. She and I are planning on doing some amazing in-depth pieces in September.

I've spent about 70 hours from Monday to Saturday covering this thing. A majority of my time was in the courtroom, filling two notebooks with notes. The rest was spent speeding to JC during the 45 minute lunch breaks to file the story and rush back before court is reconvened.

It's really unhealthy to go home after spending that much time immersed in that and just stew in everything you saw and heard that day. It's expected that your boyfriend be freaked out when you say, "Just promise me you'll never kill me" as soon as you start talking. It's not expected that, when you're depressed about seeing and hearing some truly sad things, he tells you the most wonderful things you've ever heard. But it's nice.

If you have time, check out the Daily U's Web site tomorrow. Hopefully, my last article about the sentencing will be up. I only included small snippets of the drama that went on. I'm saving the rest for my project.

Thanks for reading my rant. The first version of this was much more eloquent. Then my computer shut down. Fucking computer.

AKS

Raise your hand if reading Bechard's post made you want to kill yourself.
-Prada Paige, raising hand

A Note from the Convent ...

So it may have taken me a while, but I think I am finally settled in NYC. First of all, Brazil was amazing. I won't give you all the details, check out the KUAC Web site, but we had two of the most beautiful men I've even seen as our tour guides. Seriously. Check the pictures. They wore speedos on the beach. So about the convent ... I can almost touch opposing walls of my room at the same time, I have no option of cable/internet access in my room and it is NOT AIRCONDITIONED. On the other hand, I have a maid who makes my bed everyday, changes my sheets and brings me fresh towels. She also closes my window and turns off my fan during the day so it is roughly 117 degrees when I get home from work. Bitch. It's right in midtown, so I shouldn't complain. I can see Macy's, Madison Square Garden and the Empire State Building. My job kicks ass. Everyone should work for a fashion magazine. I only work 10-1 on Fridays and 10-6 Monday through Thursday. My editor asked if I would stay on through December, so I'll take that as a good sign. Here, in a nutshell, is what I do: 1. Email comes in about clutch (that's a purse, people) Charlize Theron was carrying to a premier. 2. Call Charlize's PR people and figure out who the designer was. 3. Call the designer's showroom, tell them we want to use the fall edition of the bag. 4. Five or six $1,000 hangbags get messengered to my desk. 5. Drop them off at photography and do a write up to accompany the letter in the Where to Find It pages of the magazine. 6. SEND THE PURSES BACK. I hate that. As if this isn't cool enough, I get a contsant free supply of all Time's magazine (yes, this includes Martha Stewart Living, happy day...) and my security badge gets me into all the museums for free and discounted Broadway tickets. Now that I finally have the password I'll most more often so I won't take up so much space next time. My cell number (785-766-2065) is the same, but here's my new info: 419 West 34th Street #1207/ New York, NY 10001. ashley_bechard@instylemag.com. Miss you guys...
Ashley
P.S. Austin, if you're reading this, I just discovered on Thursday that I can access Jessica Simpson's numbers with a quick click of the celebrity database on my desktop. I love my job.

I still hate kittens and Jesus.

So, I designed a news front for the first time today.
While I was FAILING the Lawrence Journal-World's copy editor test.
Go me.
Not.
Oh, and go see "Madagascar" if you want to have nightmares.
Love,
Prada Paige

Eerie little Erie

Hey everyone. This is Rupal in Erie, Pa. I'm sitting in the news room as I write this. So far, I've been working days, getting used to Quark. It hasn't been bad. I've got to copy edit (YES!) AND design and write headlines, etc. I start working nights beginning Saturday.
So the town...when I first drove in it seemed like a ghost town. All around me were abandoned and old-looking warehouses. But as I kept driving, there was more to the city. It looks a lot like downtown KC. It's not too glamorous, but the bay area is beautiful! I've got to experience the local restaurants and seafood.
The people here are so nice. Everyone I see smiles and says hi. I'm not used to how friendly they are here!
On Tuesday I visited the Niagara Falls. And during the summer I plan to go to Philadelphia and NYC. It might be hard considering I don't exactly get the weekends off.
My roommates here are reporting interns for the Times-News. I'm getting along with them really well. Oh, and the temperature in Erie rarely gets in the high 80s, but since I've been here, it's been pretty hot. I'm used to it, but they aren't.
I hope everyone is doing well. It was nice reading up on where everyone is.

Rupal

p.s. A little fun fact my administrative editor told me: Billy Blanks (the Tae-Bo guy) is from Erie! WHOOO! Yes, these little things mean a lot to the people in Erie :)

You'll make someone a nice little wife someday!

I just recently posted, but I wanted to comment on all the new meat on the blog! Woo new meat!

I am still covering the Stanley court martial. You might have read the AP stuff by John Milburn. My recent stuff isn't getting posted on our site, so that's that. The court martial started Monday and closing statements and deliberations start tomorrow. It is really interesting, and really mind numbing at times. Today I was in the courtroom from approximately 7:45 a.m. to 12:15 p.m. Then back to The Daily Union to file the story. Then back to the trial at 1:15. The military judge dismissed for the day at 7:15 p.m. This has been the longest day. Each one keeps getting longer and honestly, I am exhausted. In fact, I can barely keeps my eyes open right now. I've clocked 45 hours already. But enough of my bitching (Hey, I didn't say I was getting RID of the dark sunglesses!), I'm really fortunate to get to cover something like this. During a recess, the PAO (Public Affairs Officer) taught me how to tell the rank of a person by their uniform. I am an identifying machine now. I just want to walk up to a random soldier and say, "Well hello (quick look to the arm) Specialist!"

Well, I hate to post another monster entry so I'll see y'all later.

John Scheirman rules!

AKS

P.S. The post hed (Woo, jargon!) is what the mother of a male classmate said to me when I was 10.

This time I didn't get lost in Tongie

Well, just wanted to let y'all know that my first day at the Tongie Mirror was a success! I got to choose a bunch of stories that I am going work on throughout the summer. One story is due Monday, which I almost finished today. I also have 2 more stories due Monday from Saturday's Tonganoxie Days. I'm covering the BBQ contest and something else, I forgot. I guess the BBQ sticks out in my mind because Shawn, the sports editor, told me I'm gonna get a lot of food for free after the contest. I asked him if I was allowed to eat it. He chuckled and said "yes sir." He's from Washington, Kan. Very polite. Some Jetmorians (or is Jetmorons?) should take lessons :)
Anyway, everyone at the Mirror is really nice, laid back and easy-going. I'm really happy that I everything worked out with Tongie so I could work there this summer. The editors are not too demanding and they're really flexible with schedules. Oh yea, they're all J school grads. There's another intern this summer from K-state, but she's cool. The best part of working at the Mirror is that it only took 1/8 of a tank to drive from Clinton/Kasold to Tongie and back. I think it acutally took longer to get through Lawrence at 5:30 than it did driving out there. But I did get stuck behind some asshole driving 50 mph in a 65 on Highway 40. I eventually passed him... AND THEN SLAMMED ON MY BREAKS!! HAHA JUST KIDDING I have road rage, but nothing to that extreme. I hope everyone is enjoying their summer! Bye y'all
-Nate

Check it out

http://rudepundit.blogspot.com/

Greetings from Tawnganoxie... actually Lawrence

I was gonna wait until tomorrow (Thursday) to make my blog debut as a Mirror reporter, but I'll fill y'all in on the DL since Kealing was getting ansy to know my status in Tongie. While y'all were slaving over stories about Wal-Mart (or whatever businesses Kealing writes about), po-dunk Kansas towns, soldiers who fuck around (literally) and redneck grandparents shooting paintballs, I was soaking up the sun in Dallas. Actually only my arms got tan. The rest of my body remains ghostly white. But the trip was still a lot of fun and a much needed break from a semester of bad grades due to too much time at the Kansan. Oh well, grades mean shit, but not everyone gets to experience awesome presence that is the KANSAN...

As for Tongie, I go in at 2 p.m. where I will find out if I passed my drug test and physical. I will also meet the other intern and hopefully get started on my first story. And yes I will be working Saturday to cover the Tonganoxie Days. I hope they have funnel cakes! Anyway, y'all should stop by for some fun in the sun or whatever the hell will take place. Ask Marissa. She'll probably be running a family booth or something. JUST KIDDING! I'm excited for Tongie! I'm out. Y'all be good!
-Nate

The Kansan marches on

I have found this blog entertaining so far, and even though many of you know me only from my rude harassing phone calls to reporters, I thought I would send a greeting from the Kansan. We published the first summer 2005 Kansan last night. I left at 2:15, but Vaupel stayed until the bitter end. EdPerks is dead! We have something new called InCopy. Even though none of us really know how to use it, we are learning, and it is far friendlier and more rational than EdPerks. But we are learning slowly. Our techie said today's Kansan was the first paper in the United States to be published using Adobe InCopy. I don't know whether that is true or not, but it sounds good. Much to my surprise, I woke up a couple of weeks ago and found that I am the Kansan summer copy chief. Malcolm only has 4 people in his 699 class now that one person dropped out, for bad grades I think. One of them is the main copy editor, and for three hours a week on Tuesday nights, we have another copy editor. The reporters are going to have to be writing a lot of stories. The eternal Vaupel is our leader, and the crown prince Austin is the campus editor when he's not working his real job. I hope all of you out there doing real things in the real world appreciate what you have.

John S.

I got a second interview at the Journal-World.
Go me, I think.
Hm. -PP

The following entries are a JC DOUBLE TEAM! post courtesy Andy and AKS

Ah-oo-hoo, play somethin' country

So every time anyone posts anything on this junk bucket, I get an email. Stop being so good with posts and comments! It's driving me mad! Crap. Posting this now will mean I get another email. Oh well ...

I am so glad someone besides Kealing, Neeley, Michelle and I are blogging. Finally!

Things are interesting here. Andy finally started. I've been covering this huge military court martial at Fort Riley. I'm a little pissed John Milburn from the AP showed up, because it could be my stuff going out if it weren't for him. Anyway, step aside bitter me! It's time for the happy AKS! Let me explain.

I started covering this trial on Monday. I was in a courtroom/newsroom/highway between JC and Fort Riley from 8:15 a.m. until 7 p.m. I was in a courtroom/newsroom/highway from 7:45 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. and from 10:15 p.m. to 12:15 a.m. I have that icky "in the sun then in the AC" feeling.

I have seen an array of autopsy and crime scene photos. I've learned what meth addiction and suspicion of adultery can do to people. It's really just a f'ed up situation. I would like to elaborate more on the case and my observations with my beat, but I really don't feel comfortable discussing it on a blog. I do have some funny stories though.

The court martial is supposed to be over by Friday (military trials move fast), but I'm not sure. I'll be covering this for a while. I'm not going to post any stories of mine on here (hint, hint), but if you feel like it you can click on The Daily Union link to the right. A woman from a Manhattan radio station said, "I've been in the business for 20 years and I've never covered a court martial." I said, "I've been on the job for five days and this is my first one too!"

So ANYWAY, back to why I feel fabulous despite the journalism thing. I don't want to brag, but my BOYFRIEND (and no it's not a joke boyfriend like Sean Land or someone like that) left me a wonderful IM that was waiting for me when I got back from the newsroom tonight: "i gotta go to bed i miss talking to u and i love u with all of my heart sleep well baby." Despite the grammar and punctuation things (which I pretend to ignore), this is great! You're still shocked by the B word, aren't you? Oh well, even the darkest sunglasses must come off sooner or later ...

I love everything and everyone (maybe even Bill) ... actually, speaking of that jerk, he was surprised I had the capacity to love. I hate that guy. Aw, what the hell: I love you, Bill.

Well, back to my never-ending battle with the courtroom's metal detector,
AKS

That's what she said

I'm sure you're all wondering who this post could be from, but then you'll realize the clever, however not in any-way overused saying, that's what she said.

I'm making my blogger debut from Des Moines, Iowa, where I'm trapped -- I mean work -- this summer. In the spirit of dissing Iowa, or as Nate would call it Ah-oh-wa, here are the top five reasons why Iowa, specifically Des Moines, sucks:
5. There is no smoking ban so my pants, as well as the rest of me, get smokey when I go out.
4. The only people my age in this town, and possibly the state, are the other interns at the Des Moines Register
3. There are no signs on the highway in Iowa that tell you cities are a certain distance away. You have to guess. And it blows.
2. I'm sleeping on a hide-a-bed in my brother's basement (though I'm appreciative, still sucks)

1. The top reason why it sucks, I miss KKKKKKKKKKKKUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTIIISSSSSSSS ... oh, and the rest of you too!


Things have been pretty uneventful here. I've written some stories. I'm learning lots about boys living with my 10 and 13 year old nephews. I've had more conversations about testicles in the last 2 weeks than I have in my whole life. Christopher, the younger one, and I are reading the 4th Harry Potter book. He needs help with his phonix. ...

And, ladies and gentlemen, I am an AILF (which I'd prefer pronnounced ALF). My 13 year old nephew's all think I'm hot. I'm an "aunt i'd like to f*** ...." Sad that this entertains me.

And a few that's what she said lines:

Shawn (my brother) "Does he know what he's doing?" about Christopher doing something in the kitchen ---That's what she said.
Christopher (10-year-old nephew) "Wow. These balls are tiny," the 13-year-old league's baseballs vs. the 10 year-old league's baseballs--- That's what she said.
Andrew: (13-year-old nephew) "Keep it under the covers!" --- some fight about a blanket the boys were both using ... That's what she said.

Love you and miss you all (most of you anyway!)

O'Toole

Ah, journalism humor

I posted this on my livejournal, but I thought I'd share it with the rest of you.

A story just came over the wire about a British study that determines that a woman's ability to have an orgasm is genetic...And in the AP notes at the top it says "HOLD FOR RELEASE" ... (pause for laughter)

That is all. :D

- The Forrest

Time to start juggling.

Hi friends.
I started my second internship, at Universal Press Syndicate, today. I spent the entire day touring the three floors of the American Century Building that Andrews McMeel Universal occupies, peeing in a cup and reading comics. It was pretty sweet.
Though I'm only making $500 for the entire summer, I am going to make mad connections in the editorial department and get a hot job there making $9,000,000 a year. Then I'll be able to afford the loft I want to live in at 21st and Central. You can all come visit me after First Fridays in KC.
So now I get to juggle my KC Homes & Gardens internship, where I have a Win95 computer and no Internet, and this new one, every other day with Saturday-Monday off. It's a hard life. Doesn't it suck to be an intern?
...
Oh wait. No, it doesn't. Though I did hear some people snickering today about my too-tight clothes and blaming my attitude on PMS.
...
Oh wait. No, that didn't happen either.
Just joshin', Burhenn.
...
And to top it all off, I had a phone interview with the HR person at the Lawrence Journal-World on my way home from the Plaza (yes, that's where I work, I rule). So Matt Daugherty of the Dispatch Tribune, if you're reading this right now, it's time to get back from vacation and offer me a job before somebody else snatches me up!
...Or something.
God, how I love ellipses.
Exciting times in the life of Prada Paige. Bob was here last weekend and it was the last time until July 2 that I had with him. ::tear:: We're going to a NASCAR event July 2-3 then he'll be back for three weeks while he's at field school. Somebody convince him that he needs to come back to journalism so he won't go out and get lost digging in the desert. I'd miss him.
OK, so now I'm just babbling. Long day with a guilt complex about posting from work. Maybe it's the fact that I'm stationed in "the bullpen," smack in the middle of the office and right in front of my supervisor's office. Eeek. I'm off now, maybe to grab some dinner. I had a plateful of fried tofu from Blue Koi and a Starbucks chai for lunch and I'm feeling surprisingly unfulfilled.
Leave comments because last time I was sad. I got none. Maybe if I say something inflammatory, more people will comment.
I hate kittens and Jesus.
There. Comment.
Love,
Prada Paige

It's like the Kansan...but bigger and with older people (except for Vaupel, of course)

Today is my first shift at The Indianapolis Star. I came in at 4:30 and had about 2 hours of training, and was promptly put right to work, which is awesome because I thought they'd babysit me until I learned the system. But no. Everyone here has been extremely nice, with the exception of one copy editor who made me and another copy editor who was showing me the computer system move because we were bothering him. Then we gossiped about how much of an asshole he is. hehe. The two older editors I'm working with are cool middle-aged ladies, and I am the youngest person in the room by about 10 years. I think I'm going to play the young-gun riff for a while. "Jon, don't change that! You're such a loose cannon!" The newsroom is friggin' huge and there's a cafeteria upstairs. Shit. There is a ho-dunk fridge that hasn't been cleaned in years and a microwave that rivals the one in the Kansan newsroom for the title of "most unsanitary appliance in the universe." Some of the sportos here make Starbucks runs two times a night.

Living by myself has gotten off to an inauspicious start. I realized I don't have a TV, Internet, silverware, flatware or bed sheets last night, and I woke up this morning discovering my toilet doesn't flush and when I went to microwave soup, I discovered I don't have a microwave. I shouldn't complain though. It sounds like Neeley is having a much more...interesting apartment experience than I. It took me a total of a day and a half for me to find the closest grocery store (which was ridiculously overpriced), but I've heard a rumor that there is Wal-Mart south of town that is selling Kraft Mac and Cheese for 44 cents a box. Holy. Shit. I went shopping downtown today, and the whole area is amazing. My apartment is right next to a canal that runs through downtown next to a bunch of museums. I really want to get out and experience the nightlife, but I'm going to hold off until I get settled a little more and my wallet gets a little more full. I work five days a week, but get Fridays and Saturdays off, which is friggin' sweet. Aye! Front page proofs just came off the printer. Later!

Jon "The Forrest" Ralston

In West Philadelphia...

Every morning I wake up to a group who congregates on the fire escape next door. They are loud and communicate in the forgotten language of TB as they smoke cigarettes and speculate on their days in prison. An ambigous sign "Chestnut Place Clubhouse," hangs over the doorstep in front, but it's more than a little suspicious.

Michelle, seeing your pictures of Olivia made me miss Sully. He's off leading the good life on the farm — swimming in ponds, dragging dead animals and potatoes onto my parents' porch. But I have a whole new array of pets to keep me busy. Sure, most of them bite and I kill them when they come near me, but at least they keep me busy. Some even have 100 legs that greet me with a little "good morning" every day. Then I turn on the water and blast those 100 legs down the sink.

I've read a couple of pretty humorous pieces lately. One is by Sarah Vowell, NPR editor and voice of Violet in "The Incredibles." She has a few books, written in a very David Sederis-esque way. In "The Partly Cloudy Patriot," she has a story "Democracy and Things Like It," which reminds journalists of the impact one word can have. Also, the Inquirer ran this essay on Star Wars last week (this does have some spoilers in it, so you if you haven't seen the movie and you're a huge fan 1. You're not really a huge fan if you haven't seen it by now, and 2. You may not want to read this):

Star Wars: Galaxy needs men - and women, too

By Gina Barreca

The one female character with a speaking part in the latest and last Star Wars film does exactly two important things: She gets pregnant and dies. That's it. I never thought I'd say this, but I really miss Carrie Fisher.

Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (a title with the unhappy effect of making everyone who discusses the movie sound in desperate need of speech therapy) has the one female character say things such as "Hold me, Anakin. Hold me like you did on Naboo."

That's how you know the movie is science fiction: On this planet, if you ever say things like that to men, they run away so fast they leave skid marks. What else does she say? She says, in a moment of great turmoil, "You've changed!" This is what she whines when she notices her love interest becoming the Prince of Darkness, the Embodiment of Evil, the Vessel of the Dark Side. I use stronger language when my husband says I should use more garlic in the sauce. If I should ever notice that my husband's eyes were becoming radioactive, as do the eyes of the spoiled, grumpy boy-hero Anakin, I might speak a little more firmly.

Certainly Carrie Fisher's Princess Leia would have used a less pleading, less wimpy tone. As I remember, Leia not only kicked butt (sometimes quite literally), but also had some terrific lines. She was an active, crucial, irreplaceable part of the trio of triumphant characters, right alongside Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. She was, in fact, the smart one in that group. Leia didn't whine and snivel like Luke, and she was smart enough to choose Han Solo instead of her brother.

Apart from having bagels over her ears, Leia seems to exercise good judgment.

For example, when Han Solo pats himself on the back by announcing, "Not a bad bit of rescuing, huh? You know, sometimes I amaze even myself," Princess Leia instantly replies, "That doesn't sound too hard." Embodying the wit of Dorothy Parker and the timing of Mae West, the original Star Wars babe had a feisty, sexy, competitive, complex personality that made a whole generation of little girls want to be her when they ran the galaxy. Who wouldn't want to be the one with the punch line in the following exchange?:

Han Solo: Look, Your Worshipfulness, let's get one thing straight. I take orders from just one person: me.

Princess Leia: It's a wonder you're still alive.

When little girls want to be the new heroine, Padmé (even the name sounds like a new line of ladies' bras), what is it precisely they'll be doing?

As far as I can tell, she gets knocked up, pops out twins like English muffins from a toaster, and then expires, like a carton of old milk.

The reason Padmé dies, according to the droid doctors who look after her during childbirth, is "she has lost the will to live."

Believe me, if women dropped dead every time they lost the will to live, they'd be sweeping out the bodies from the TJ Maxx dressing room on an hourly basis during bathing suit season. (To clarify: Women do not die because we lose the will to live. We drop because we get inadequate health care, with inadequate funding, and because a lot of us have to choose droid doctors approved by our HMO health-care plans. Do I sound bitter? Oh, just hold me like you did on Naboo ... )

Padmé is neurasthenic, weird, passive, an annoying character. Not a lot of action for an action-figure character - and yet there is indeed an action-figure available: a lady with skinny legs, a gun, and an untucked blouse obviously symbolizing advanced pregnancy (the gestation period on this planet being about three weeks - Padmé gets those twins ready for birth quickly and without the addition of any unsightly pounds). Skinny, armed, and pregnant: This is the effect of 40 years of the women's movement on American cinema.

And this isn't getting at the larger issue: that the simple presence of the feminine in Anakin Skywalker's life is the catalyst for his turn to the Dark Side. It is because our hero falls in love with Padmé that Anakin goes all weak and evil. So I guess the Catholic Church, John Milton's Paradise Lost, and Rush Limbaugh are all proved correct - it's women who plant the seed of disharmony and cause the wreckage of masculine community. Terrific.

I'm tired of heroines being dead. I'm tired of martyrdom. I'm tired of self-sacrificing pretty broads. And I'm tired of being coerced into feeling sorry for the men who cause their deaths.



Finally, in the latest reality show news, Tommy Lee is getting his shit together. In "Tommy Lee Goes to College," starting this August on NBC, Tommy Lee will be attending, get this, the University of Nebraska. Holy shit.


Neeley

Neeley took my blog virginity

I kept calling Neeley with amusing anecdotes from my road trip to Florida, and she said I should post them to the blog. I dunno if she was serious or if she was just tired of me bothering her, but here are the two white-trashiest moments of my life, both within 48 hours of one another:

INCIDENT 1: Trailers and White Zin

I was camping in a beachside trailer park on Siesta Key island with my pal Becca Evanhoe, when the rain blew in off the Gulf. After discovering the leaks at the top of her tent, we took shelter in the front of her Taurus. Bored, we drove to the closest convenience store (7-11) and stocked up on junk food and a bottle of wine (yes, 7-11 sells wine down here). We proceeded to open the bottle with a pocketknife (kind of ... half the cork had to be pushed in) and drink the wine in the pouring rain. Oh, and what better to go with $6 White Zinfandel than a half dozen chocolate donuts?

INCIDENT 2: Cigarette holes in the blankets, spooge stains on the wall

I was on my way to Pensacola, driving West along the panhandle, when it started to pour. My friends and I decided to stop and check in to the Holiday Inn Express. The only room left was the honeymoon sweet, from which I am writing you all. The bed is round, with red Christmas lights. There is a mirror directly above the bed, nails sticking out of the carpet and shit in the toilet (not ours). The jacuzzi is the room's only redeeming quality, but I'm afraid to enter for fear of catching the crotch rot.

I did interview for a job today in Bradenton. If I end up working on the Gulf coast, you're all (except AKS, of course) welcome to sleep on my floor whenever you have a jonesin' for some beachin' :^)
-Bill "living the dream" Cross

Listen to "Alcohol" by Brad Paisley while reading. Or don't. You're an adult.

Sorry to hog the blog, but I did have one more thing I wanted to share. I have an annoying little site where I post the letters and e-mail my family sends me. They are spectacularly odd, but the latest from my grandma must be shared with my pals. I'm going to post it in its entirety so you can know why I feel the need to wear dark sunglasses and scowl.

May 29, 2005

Dearest Amanda,

Congratulations on completing your 5 years at KU. I know you will put your gleaned knowledge to the best of uses. Know nothing can stand in your way unless you let it. You are in full control of your body, mind and limits. Keep God in your life. You can find many obstacles in your way. You have already encountered some of them and the evils of alcohol is one of them. I had always hoped you would not fall prey to it but I see some signs it has.

Enclosed is $5 for you to get some tomato plants and flower plants or whatever you want to put out.

Have you been getting more graduation money? Hope so

Take care

Love you,

Tah & Mimi

(over)

Let me know how much 8X10 graduation picture is also some wallet sizes.

Yeah, so all those times where it feels like she's taking pot shots at my college career, she is. Five years? Gleaned? She is a deliberate woman. Evils of alcohol? Falling prey? Signs? Good lord. Does she know she's addressing the Jager Queen?

Goin' down drinkin',
AKS

P.S. I bought booze with the $5. Seriously.

Cloudy, 64 degrees F, feels like 64 degrees F

So the title really has no meaning, it's just the current temp in JC right now. I was in the newsroom today from 2 p.m. to 12:45 a.m. (we are an afternoon paper Monday through Friday and morning on Sunday). In that time, I experienced humidity, a blackout, marble-sized hail, monsoon-like rain, hurricane-esque wind, crazy flooding, pitch blackness at 5 p.m. and clear blue skies. Our county was in a flash flood watch, tornado watch and severe thunderstorm watch. Yet through all of this, we kept working (except during the 40-minute blackout when we raided the break room for leftovers). By the end of the night, Lauren, Dustin, Kevin and I were singing Annie songs.

I got the Fort Riley/Defense beat, which is what I wanted. Unfortunately I have to layout a lot of pages. Boo. Andy is covering the region, which includes all the podunk towns you could ever ask for. His first day is this Tuesday so he hasn't seen the list of towns he has to cover or the layout schedule. I told him he's going to crap his pants. We design a bulk of the pages.

The first (of hopefully many) parties at my house was on Thursday. It was a pre-house warming party and the turnout was spectacular. I drank an array of booze, ranging from red wine to Jager. Hey, you can take the girl out of the Kansan, but you can't take the Kansan out of the girl ...

Hmmm, I have so much to tell and this post is already running long. Oh well bitches, what else do you have to do? I am taking the Fort Riley beat over from Dustin who is moving on to sports. We went to the base a few days ago and he gave me the lost tour. We drove off base and there was a strip club, a mere stone's throw from post. I started probing him for strip club dirt and he opened up like a stripper on an Army base. Quite the titty bar connoisseur (I think he's in his mid- to late-20s), he informed me that the closer the gentleman's establishment is to base, the higher quality the performers. Unfortunately, my all-time favorite, The G Spot, is in the middle. He said that guys without crewcuts who walk in better just go home and get out the lotion because non-military boys are ignored. He didn't say that bit about the lotion, but it's a funny, tad inappropriate comparison. Dustin said that lap dances were expensive, somewhere in the neighborhood of $25. He said lap dances in Topeka were much cheaper, unless you decide to go into the VIP Room.

On one last work-related note, the tech guy at the paper, who is this older gentleman whose wife is from Western Kansas (he loves to gab about Western Kansas and make fun of city folk with me), made another reference to my singleness the other day. While setting up my e-mail account, he said, "It's still Stairrett isn't it? What I'm trying to politely say is, are you married yet?" Goddamn. But you know, I have been utterly obsessed with marriage since my post about the cable guy. Goddamn.

Take care,
AKS

Fuck you coupon ads

I saw a deal for 10 of those three course frozen dinners for $10. I did the math and realized that at that price, my dinner expenses for the entire year would amount to $365 ($1 per dinner, price doesn't include Iron City beer) which would leave me plenty of money to skip over to the Hy-Vee Chinese buffett just down the street from where I work. But instead of buying 365 of those things at once, I purchased 10 to start off with a trial basis. They were terrible. Totally unsatisfying. I made it through two and had to quit. They don't taste that good (even the Salisbury steak) and they don't fill you up for more than 15 minutes. What else can I say? They're a fuckin' disaster.

Maybe I said it all right there.

I thinking of pawning the remaining 8 off to my neighbors. Or maybe if one of you clowns want to come up for a candle light dinner, I'll microwave you one of those things and I'll order myself a pizza.

Muck Fizzou!

Greetings from enemy territory! I've just spent the last 45 minutes going through all of the entries I've missed from the 11 days I've been in Columbia, and I have to say, that's some four-star entertainment right there... OK, three, three and a half tops. But I've missed so much! I'm glad graduation went off without a hitch for those who did and that your post-college careers are getting off to interesting and busy starts.

I've been in Columbia, or CoMo as the natives call it, for almost two weeks, and I am ready to get out of here. This place is like some kind of uncool bizarro world. There is a Teller's, Quinton's, and a Mojo's, and last call here is at 1 a.m.! AHHH! It's so lame! And for memorial day, last call was at 11:30. Not cool. Last week I had grammar, style and concepts such as Micro and Macroediting drilled into me until I was driven insane, then came back from insanity only to be forced to work on the student-run paper here, The Missourian. I feel like such a traitor! Though I've been secretly plotting some journalism expionage to purpously insert errors into the stories I edit and make the paper look bad, mua-hahaha. I've been working with some other interns, most of who are anti-social and never say anything or smile, and when we go out to drink, they have one and leave at 11. They don't even touch the kansan crowd. EXTREME! Though I have met a couple of cool people here, and Rupal is here with me so it's not all squares. I want to say the rec center here is amazing to the point of snobbish. It looks like a freakin' mall, with health bars and raquetball courts as far as the eye can see. The treadmills even have DVD players. I wore a KU shirt there the other day and it got me a few dirty looks. Bleh. Effing Mizzou.

Tomorrow is my last day here, and I can't wait to get back to KC and Lawrence for a last hurrah before I leave for Indy. I hope my little del sol sex machine gets me there and back without dying. I should be back in L-town Friday night or Saturday afternoon to get some things, and I want to go to the Red Lyon or Henry's before I leave. I think there are only a few of you left in the area, but you are welcome to join me for a Hollywood or Guinness or whatever. I might even be buying people drinks... I think I've kept the ladies waiting long enough. Later Skaters.

-JR

The art of the expense report

So, I've recently discovered the benefits of reporting on business. For some reason, business people are unable to conduct any sort of business unless it's over food or drink. And of course, the aforementioned meetings invariably involve a squabble at the end over who will pay for it. And it's not, of course, because we're both noble, we both know that as soon as we get back to the office we'll be attaching the receipt from the "working lunch" to an excel sheet and submitting it to the boss to get paid. That's just how it works. And on top of all that, not only did I get P.F. Chang's free for lunch (and leftover's for dinner) and a trip to Starbucks for snack, I get mileage to each place and back, at the princely rate of .35/mile. I tell you, it's a wonder that anything get's accomplished in the business world, because all they do is eat.
Power lunches are where it's at,
Kealing
PS Blogger and I are in a fight. It does not want to work. GRRRRR!