Have you had a glass of melonade today?

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The Squid and the Whale

I feel a little guilty because I go to the Lagoon Theatre for free more often than I pay. I don’t know why that is. I scored a pass via my nefarious sources and tapped the only person whom I knew who had a card for the movie stuck to her fridge with a pinup girl magnet. You might guess that was Cake Woman — and you’d be right. Today I called her in the afternoon and deposited the times and general game plan into her voice mail. Several hours later I finally got a call back. She had walked from Anoka to Coon Rapids in some sort of fever dream. Dan picked her up and delivered her to the Lagoon still in her pajamas. After the movie he took her home again. During the movie he waited at the CC Club or something. I don’t know what that’s about.

The movie itself was great. Simply great. Pretty much everything that I would want to see in a movie about a divorce (and maybe some stuff that I didn’t, but hey, that’s life).

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Midterms are Over!!!

I get a ton of spam in my university email.

From: “CPT Timothy T. Kemp”

Now that you have time to relax, I would like to offer you an invitation to check out the U of MN’s Army ROTC Program. It is nationally known as one of the countries top leadership programs and it has a lot to offer you. There are scholars among you who aspire to achieve something even greater than a college degree- they aspire to be leaders. Being a sophomore is an exciting time and it’s not too late to join Army ROTC.

[bla bla blaleeted]


Here’s how I’m replying:

If I join the ROTC, will the Army make me into an unstoppable killing machine? Also, does the Army even take 30 year olds? Do I have to switch from my Computer Science major to a major in killing? I have so many questions!

Jesse Mullan

I can’t wait to sign up for KILL1337W - “Poorly Justified Wars of the 20th Century”! Unfortunately, it has some prereqs like KILL1001 - “Concepts In Baby Murdering”.

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To The Beer Cave!

If you have beer requests for Saturday, the time to make them is now.

So, I’ve been enjoying the Summit Oktoberfest (you may call it Rocktoberfest if you like) with complete innocence for a couple of weeks now. Today I had one and noticed that I felt a little more… affected… than I had expected, so I went to the trusty (and flash-infested) Summit Brewery website, where I made the discovery that Oktoberfest has more alcohol than Maibock. If you had forgotten, Maibock is the beer that joined me on the path to get lost, cry my eyes out, and make a terrible mistake that I won’t share here. (not in that order or on the same nights)

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You’d think that I would be satisfied

Cake Woman and I went to the MIA, where, unlike when I went by myself, we were not followed by a herd of security guards. Then we hit the Electric Fetus. I was unable to prevent myself from purchasing Fiona Apple, Laura Veirs, and Matson Jones. Then we went to the Bulldog. Cake Woman bought me Delerium Tremens and mini corn dogs. She had a birthday thing with her quasi fam at five, so I came home to work on my freelance web thing and ended up babysitting Noah and his three bowel movements for four hours. I wasn’t able to eat the leftover lentil soup that I heated up because it was the exact color of the things that Noah play-doh factorized into his diapers.

You have no messages.

Whoever recorded that with the emphasis on no is a sick person.

On a happy note, Noah and I sang at least three thousand verses of Old MacDonald. Highlights included all the old favorites as well as monkeys, snakes, and a pterodactyl. We are fucking awesome.

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Apparently, I rock.

This was on my closet door after the zombie pub crawl.

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Melody was right

Cake Woman came over so the Keathly family and I could celebrate her birthday. She brought Upright Citizen’s Brigade DVDs! I watched the ass pennies, poo stick, bucket of truth, and hot chicks room while Cake Woman fell asleep on my bed. Now, of course, I have to do several hours of algorithms and data structures homework while she makes my bed smell like girl and farts.

P.S.: Halloween party at my house on the 29th, drop me a line at if you haven’t already gotten an invite. I gotta get on that shit, just like everything else in my life. Melody and her husband Jay should come but they live in Portland. They are awesome people. I don’t think that I mentioned that. I should have.

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My favorite blogs are fearless.

jesse: sorry I missed you yesterday
terry: no worries, seems like you’re going through some shit
terry: …if your blog is any measure
jesse: that’s par for the course
terry: this is the first time I said to myself: “Dude, dont you realize people might read this?”

Might read this? That’s the whole point! No, I’m not actually going through any shit — I’m just presenting a view of the dramatic aspects of my life. I could sum up the weekend as “I’m a college student who went on a bender,” and walk away from it happy, but since I’m writing for my own entertainment, I spun the evening into a wild bacchanalia where Dionysius himself pulled me aside and said “dude, seriously, I think you’ve had enough.”

I know that people will read this. In addition to the anonymous masses that roll through, there are a handful of friends and family members who come by every so often. Ex-girlfriends come by. Women whom I have almost dated come by. Women to whom I recently sent an email because I was hoping to get to know them better so that we could maybe hook up and see what happens ‘cause hey you never know where you’re gonna meet someone and why not a zombie crawl, I mean, how great is that story anyway come by.

Actually, I might have scared away that last class of women. I mean, come on, you’ve read my blog, it’s like a car crashing into a plane in mid-air. I’ve read it, it sounds like I have serious mental problems. It’s like I’m channeling dead crazy people.

I am disappointed with my last post, though. It was supposed to draw parallels between Cake Woman’s fears and my own, then blend in the apologies that I heard from everyone else, but I was far too tired to supply the required subtlety of prose. You might ask me why people were apologizing to me, and I might ask the same question. It seemed like there was consternation over the possibility that my feelings might have been hurt by events that transpired. I just kept getting apologies all day. They might have made more sense if I could remember the part of the night where I was crying as my roommates rolled me up the stairs and into bed, but that was probably just alcohol poisoning.

You might think to yourself right now “oh my god, how is he admitting this on the internet?” Well, I tell you what. I will tell this story to my mom the next time I see her. Tears will shoot out of her eyes. She might collapse in hysterics. Then, when she stops laughing she’ll probably ask me to help her move an obelisk from one side of her garden to another. If you don’t see how alcohol poisoning is funny, try reading that paragraph very seriously and then offhandedly drop in the last sentence.

I fear that this post is only incrementally better than the last. I’ll keep working on my writing. I have to write a paper for my art class anyway. Ugh.

P.S.: I’m pretty sold on Sprint for my wireless service, I think.

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I’m Sorry. Wait, I Didn’t Do Anything Wrong?

After like a day of missed phone calls, Cake Woman and I finally actually talked to each other. The fun part of blacking out is when you recover memories and it stops being a black out. Unfortunately for me, I’m still missing huge swaths of dick in the mashed potatos style partying, and honestly, who wants to hang out with a guy who drinks to that kind of excess every few months. On a whim. With his boss?

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Yacht Rock

Yacht Rock

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Selected quotes:

Fuck you, Loggins!

Hall and I will not stand idly by while you California vagina sailors stab the american airwaves in the balls with your shit music!

Episode #2 has Hall and Oates versus, uh, McDonald and Loggins.

There are no winners today, but I felt the power of really smooth music.

I can’t deal with how awesome these Yacht Rock videos are. I just can’t.

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