September 10, 2001

near-death exorcism

Good God.

Our kitchen stank like death, so we took out the trash. That improved our standard of living somewhat. After that it just smelled like near-death. Where could that smell be coming from? While putting away dishes I found an ancient potato(e) storage shelf. Sniff. Yup, that’s it. I grabbed the five pound bag of old(e) sprouting potatoes… it was dripping and rotting like a corpse. I ran out the door for the dumpster outside, gagging the entire time. My eyes still burn.

It will take me weeks to recover from this. I need a drink.


post it gallery

Cromlech has just generated the Post It Gallery. It simply rocks. Check out these quotes:

“Post It Gallery has reassured me the insignificance of the entire Internet revolution. I hope its creator burns in a Hell of his own art.”[email protected]

“I wish I was locked up in a small musty closet and forced to eat moldy bread and pull out my eyelids. Well, until I get my wish for a life of unspeakable horror, there’s always the Post it Gallery.”-Jimmy Q. Wendelstroff

“I once wet the bed and wrote ‘penis’ in one of those blank books they have at the Amazing Grace Coffeeshop. I’m funny. Ha. Ha. Ha.”-Jerky Face


September 7, 2001

pushed to the brink by grapes

My car has a flat tire. I keep forgetting to do things like turn off the toaster oven and go to hypnotists. I laughed Doritos up my nose. My rainfly leaks, which really sounds like a personal problem. My email program sends people cryptic, scrambled messages. I’m covered with fly bites and poison ivy. Some grapes pushed me down the stairs. I’m sweaty.

I am a complete and utter mess.

And I am in such a good mood! I’m doin’ the Statesman write-up to get all the youngens to go to the All Mighty Senators show, which is gonna rock! It’s Friday, glorious Friday. I finished the Top Secret Wooch! Recruitment Materials, or TSM!RM as we like to call it to keep it secret. Try sayin’ THAT with a mouthful of crackers:

“Tee Ehss Imm Eschqualmah-damn, look at the mess I made.”

I’m goin’ to Peter Meyer. It looks like I’m gonna catch another fly on which I can perform shocking scientific experiments.

If you’ve got a fresh booty say ‘I do’

[I do]


September 6, 2001

with little ducks

It’s cute how all the freshman think this is still high school. They waltz around the halls all gussied up in their finest finery, trying to establish the trend-dresser social heirarchy. The kids are dimly aware that in a week they will be dragging their exhausted bodies around in pajamas.

…with little ducks on them. Last year it would’ve been social suicide for these students. This year it’s life.

Great. Now that I put up fly paper, all the flies have mysteriously disappeared. The last accessery is in place. This room officially looks like the ghetto. Ha! Got one!

I feel really bad. The hypnotist was here last night and I forgot to go. I’ve been hypnotized the last two years in a row… I’m a kangaroo. Word has it he was even asking for me. I disappointed my ‘fans’, but more importantly I disappointed my hypnotist. I should send him a card or something. Why, oh why didn’t someone tell me it was last night?


September 1, 2001

good goof

Finally a new month. Finally back home in Duluth. Finally back among goof company (oops, I tried to write ‘good’ but I wrote ‘goof’ instead! I’d change it, but goof is probably much more a[[ro[riate).

Finally able to refresh Cromlech.

Today is, in one absolutely beautiful word, cathartic.

I miss you people. All of you.

I’m looking forward to this year.


August 28, 2001

gross mechanics

Oh dear. A quick trek to the outdated, online version of Cromlech (see Aug. 27 discussion ) revealed a gross navigational error. The beautiful menu graphic above, though breathtaking in its obvious mastery of Photoshop, does not actually link to anything, thereby ruining its exclusively pragmatic existence. Unless you have memorized my confusing labyrinth of sub-folders and html files, you will not be able to find your way to any Cromlechian enlightenment until I get my act together and fix stuff. Not that you care. Not that you can even read this message while it is still pertinent (see Aug. 27).

…and if you do care, go here instead. You’ll like it better anyway.


August 27, 2001

a time machine, of sorts

Hmm… a recent format of my computer has knocked me out of the uploading ring. Though there have been meager updates, you are all still staring at the July 15th entry… the Augustian changes arguably exist, but they will not be accessible until September. Think of it as having a cheap tiiiiiiime machine that brings the past to the present! It’s like August is happening today! You are at the State Fair! You are at the Renaissance Festival! You are cursing the heavens and fixing an Ford Tempo! You are being laid off from the DRC and are no longer reading insightful an Kentucky essays!

You are more than ready to get back to school.


August 24, 2001

anvil and prince… or two

I got a new scanner, so I’ve been scanning a bunch of oddities I have collected through the years… photos, outhouses, anvils and a prince or two. I intend to creatively impliment these images into this website, but I am finding out rather quickly that I am no graphic designer. Nay, forced to imagically survive on my wits alone I have resorted to trial-and-error Photoshop filters. Some things work, most do not. If I had an employable room of monkeys at my disposal I would turn the work over to them. Monkey art is damn cool when it turns out.


July 15, 2001

jurassic memories

Jurassic Park was on television last night. I forgot how much I loved that movie, how much I felt justified seeing it at least four times in the theatre… June 11th, 199something… ’91? ’92? I remember I saw it with Michael Gunelson the day after I had an end-of-the-year party. It was supposed to be a sleepover, but everyone got sent home after throwing a whole box of cookies at the t.v. while watching Aliens.

After seeing Jurassic Park we left for some lame Boy Scout trip. Interesting how things come full-circle, as I was first introduced to Michael Crichton’s famous book on a Boy Scout campout many months before. Why, I actually read the paperback copy with the old Jurassic Park cover on it; before they changed it to reflect the logo in the movie. Yeah, just like polyester, Hawaiian shirts, Dax Wave and Groom and bowling shoes, I was way ahead of the trend on that one.

In the early morn on that camping trip, Mitch Axelson and I were in charge of cooking the bacon. It quickly caught on fire, so as my father tried valiantly to douse the flames we just danced around chanting “Put out the bacon, put out the bacon!” Our tribe later sat in trees and exchanged dirty jokes and then we retreated into the woods… we talked about how much our explorations were resembling the movie Fire in the Sky. ‘Five guys went into the woods… only four returned.’ Some fat kid got spooked as a result and bailed back to the campground, paring our group down to the mentioned four. Then we climbed up a hill to explore an ice cave. It had rusty chains, likely used to imprison Ice Giants.

When I watched Jurassic Park I cried. Really. It was so damn beautiful. In the wise words of Tyler Zenner, “Yeah, I’d pay to see live dinosaurs.”

I would too.


July 11, 2001

a pathetic geek story

Startling discovery of the day:

Vaseline Intensive Care Advanced Healing Lotion with Vitamin E heals severely dry skin. The ‘severely’ is indeed underlined, but it is not a hyperlink. Fooled you. Despite its claim to be fragrance-free it is fortunately not, as it has the smell of woman. The scent of the essence of woman. It makes my knees quake and my heart race. It touches nerve-endings long dormant, arouses feelings of intensive love and ubiquitous severity.

Inhale deeply…

Ahh, yes.

And in conclusion, I need to get out more. Way more.