Generally, I have no trouble making decisions, but I need help with one. Currently, I'm in a MBA program at Edgewood that's not exactly setting the world on fire. I think the further in that I get, the more I'll get out of it. I'm signed up for a class next semester.
Problem is, I want to finally get my German down. It's not for any important reason other than my own enrichment. The classes conflict.
Suggestions?
Thursday, December 8, 2005
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Not That Popular
Dave put up a post on this county's most popular names. I'm all the way down to 100 in 2004. The highest my name has ever been is 30 in 1964. My adopted name of Henry clocks in at 110 and my adopted karoke name of Roy is a lowly 470. My middle name, which is David, is popular. Almost nobody knows a Stockland and chances are if you do, you know an English ancestry Stockland. I'm a Norwegian one. All hail the simple minds working at Ellis Island. It's supposed to be Stokland with a cool umlaut over the "o".
Just like the rest of my life, I fly under the radar. There are good parts to it as I hide well from goobers and ass-holes, but then I miss out on some decent people. So be it. I'm not going to change. I old and crotchety already. Find your own name and see if you are common.
Just like the rest of my life, I fly under the radar. There are good parts to it as I hide well from goobers and ass-holes, but then I miss out on some decent people. So be it. I'm not going to change. I old and crotchety already. Find your own name and see if you are common.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Droppping Plates on Yo Ass, Beeyotch!
I had this kick ass dream last night that I kicked the shit out of Colin Ferrel. Disturbing thing was that I was Michael Douglas.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Guantanamera!
Saturday turned out to be the day three of us got tired of being in Madison and ventured our way to Milwaukee. We piled in my car and away we went. The first five minutes were filled with banter, as I haven't seen Tom in a while and not much of Jeremy, either. As the conversation died down, I put on some XM dance channel and passed the Marshal exit. (Please note that Marshal is entirely populated by a Romanian Bucovina Cult or something. They are weird people.) I was fast becoming sleepy listening to the repetative electronic music and told Jeremy to change it. He fished around, stopping at the NASCAR channel to collective groans, ESPN for the Penn State Score for Tom, and finally at the 80's channel.
Things remain kind of quiet until Tom started singing the backup singer portion of some 80's song that I don't remember. It could of been on by Foreigner. This was followed by Bananarama's only self-penned U.S. hit, "Cruel Summer", and others until "Pour Some Sugar On Me" came on. I then changed it, passing the 60's channel when Jeremy heard a bit of a familiar song. He changed it back and behold it was "Guantanamera", a song I didn't know, but he knew from high-school Spanish class. This made Jeremy's whole night and we could have turned back home. Unfortunately, the music digressed from there and we were forced to turn it off at the intersection of Hawley & West Lincoln Avenue.
We picked up Steve and decided on Tres Hermanos. Steve informed us of a recent homicide in the neighborhood and told the story of how he saw some guy getting his head kicked into the pavement outside the restaurant some time. We were no longer in cushy, wimpy Madison anymore. Jeremy was excited at the mariachi band standing by the bar. By the time we sat down and ordered our drinks, the band was going from table to table, performing requests. Jeremy no sooner said "I hope they don't stop here" when I heard "Good Evening, Gentlemen!" He knew not of our reputation. The lead hombre asked for a request and Jeremy yelled out "Guantanamero!" The band responded and Jeremy would have died happy at that moment.
Not much else interesting happened after that. We went to a bar that kept blaring hair metal, another bar that was cool, but had the worst juke box, and another before we called it a night. I did manage to make a wrong turn at Albuquerque, circled Miller Park, drop off Steve, get lost again, then head back home. It's good to get away from this town sometimes.
Things remain kind of quiet until Tom started singing the backup singer portion of some 80's song that I don't remember. It could of been on by Foreigner. This was followed by Bananarama's only self-penned U.S. hit, "Cruel Summer", and others until "Pour Some Sugar On Me" came on. I then changed it, passing the 60's channel when Jeremy heard a bit of a familiar song. He changed it back and behold it was "Guantanamera", a song I didn't know, but he knew from high-school Spanish class. This made Jeremy's whole night and we could have turned back home. Unfortunately, the music digressed from there and we were forced to turn it off at the intersection of Hawley & West Lincoln Avenue.
We picked up Steve and decided on Tres Hermanos. Steve informed us of a recent homicide in the neighborhood and told the story of how he saw some guy getting his head kicked into the pavement outside the restaurant some time. We were no longer in cushy, wimpy Madison anymore. Jeremy was excited at the mariachi band standing by the bar. By the time we sat down and ordered our drinks, the band was going from table to table, performing requests. Jeremy no sooner said "I hope they don't stop here" when I heard "Good Evening, Gentlemen!" He knew not of our reputation. The lead hombre asked for a request and Jeremy yelled out "Guantanamero!" The band responded and Jeremy would have died happy at that moment.
Not much else interesting happened after that. We went to a bar that kept blaring hair metal, another bar that was cool, but had the worst juke box, and another before we called it a night. I did manage to make a wrong turn at Albuquerque, circled Miller Park, drop off Steve, get lost again, then head back home. It's good to get away from this town sometimes.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Viva Prowlahtary Ot!
Jo-Na has a great post on snobbery. I can relate to it in the sense that sometimes I seem to speak a foreign language to people around me. This is especially true in the construction company where I work. My internal monologue prizes certain works that just aren't spoken, yet slip out from time to time. Thankfully, when drinking any kind of alcohol, my base Wisconsinite language comes out in full force, "ain'ts" and "ehs" included. People understand me better then.
Anyway, that guy is mistaken. Shakers is clearly (no pun intended) the best vodka available.
Anyway, that guy is mistaken. Shakers is clearly (no pun intended) the best vodka available.
Tuesday, November 8, 2005
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Time to get nostalgic about a movie I saw eighteen years ago and was about a time seventeen years earlier. My college roommates can verify...
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After the post below and after finding Dave's post, I created my South Park persona after a bike ride. I think it's fitting.
