Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Hey! My blog has moved.



Hello Moderatilists,

My blog has moved to greener pastures, wordpress.com. You can find it at http://themoderatilist.wordpress.com.

Have a nice day!

The Father of Moderatilism

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Drivin' down the 101...


I GOT A JOB. Yes! Today, I was extended a job offer (that I accepted) to become a field sales engineer in Northern California. I'm guessing that I will be moving out of my parent's basement in Baraboo, WI and into an overpriced apartment San Jose, CA within the next month or so.

Daytona Bike Week


Daytona Bike week was filled with the following things.... motorcycles, light beer, sunshine, palm trees, shameless old men, tattoos, thongs, guns, squidding, and did I mention motorcycles?

What an experience... Now that I've been, I doubt I'll go back. I went down to get a jump start on the riding season and a sun tan. The riding was pretty ho-hum. I think that Florida may possess a total of 4 curves. There was a lot of bar hopping and going really fast in a straight line. A few highlights stick out in my mind. One day while sitting in traffic, I was hit from behind, and fortunately did not sustain any damage. On the same day, while drinking beer at a fellow biker's place in rural Florida a guy runs across the backyard popping shots from the Gloc 9mm that he's wielding. This scared the shit out of everyone until we realized that he was the owner of the house. He then went on to show us that he was firing hollow points and that he had a cache of ammunition in his truck. The highlight of my time spent at bike week was the morning my Dad and I test rode the 2007 Kawasaki sportbikes. Totally sweet. On the demo ride, the pack that I was riding with was going 120 in a 35 mph zone. Someday, one of them will be parked in my garage.

The second half of my time in Florida was spent in the Everglades. My relatives and I went fishing for snook, grouper, redfish, and trout. It was a blast. There weren't as many alligators as I expected, but I still saw my fair share.

Overall, it was a good trip. Bikers, in general, a really scummy lot. When I say "bikers," I mean anyone that rides a Harley and is overly proud of this fact.

A Moderatilist's Retraction



After new evidence has come to light, it appears as though I may have been hasty in my conclusion that Wendy is from New Jersey. So yes, I retract the recent fallacies that I spouted about Wendy's origins.

Apparently, Wendy is from Detroit. That being said, I believe that my previous comments about the Wendy/New Jersey connection were not that far off. Yes, the geographic regions are different, but is being born out in 8-Mile really that much different than being born in New Jersey? Think about it. The answer is No, it is not that different. Each location has produced musical anomalies such as Eminem and Bon Jovi that I rather enjoy. However, the stigma attached to being born in either of these regions is more or less the same.

I am proud that Wendy was able to overcome adversity and get out of 8-Mile. It would be a shame if her talented viola skills and smart stylings had gone to waste in a stamping plant.

Monday, March 5, 2007

Keepin' it real...


... real motherfuckin' stupid. Apparently, Kanye felt it necessary to spend approximately $3,900 for $17.50 worth of Indian food to be flown from Wales to NYC. This along with his bitch attitude and whiny behavior elevates Kanye West to the top of my least favorite rapper list. He somehow managed to overthrow Flavor Flav who has been king of the mountain for an unprecedented 93 weeks due to his "reality" show "Flavor of Love," and generally cracked out nappy drowned rat appearance. This expenditure is absolutely ridiculous. A baby panda, a piece of the moon, a platinum grill, or even a t-shirt with a pudding stain that looked like Bill Cosby would be acceptable things to spend exorbitant amounts of money on. Kanye has completely missed the mark of extravagant spending on this one, and I'm sure his fellow rappers would agree. If you had $3,882.50 to blow on something, what would it be?

Thursday, March 1, 2007

Ben Franklin does NOT approve...


What I'm about to say will probably be a shock to most of you. When I first found out, I wasn't sure how I felt, but after letting the facts sink in, I knew that I had to be true to myself and my friends. You may want to sit down for this...

After reviewing both empirical and circumstantial evidence, and running at least two regressions, I have discovered that the true origins of Wendy J. Skoczen can be traced to New Jersey with 99.8% accuracy. I know, I know. I felt the same way when I found out, so I double checked the analysis. As always, no mistakes had been made. Wendy J. is definitely from New Jersey.

Taking a closer look, one notices that the first initial of Wendy's middle name is "J". It's interesting how no one seems to know what the J stands for. Well, I'm here to tell you... It stands for Jersey. Yeah, a little bit of my soul just escaped. Because that's what happens when you say Jersey, cross the Ben Franklin without having to pay a toll, watch a Rutgers highlight on Sports Center, and cast your eyes upon a heavily makeuped and bejeweled bargoyle that's wearing hoop earrings.

Upon further inspection of the interloper's name, one finds that the first 3 letters of Wendy, spell "New" backwards. Coincidence? Absolutely not. For those of you who have read The Da Vinci Code, you know that this is conclusive evidence in support of my theory that Wendy's birthplace and favorite geographical region is indeed New Jersey.

As these peculiarities unfolded, I began to notice other clues that point to Wendy's overall Jersey Girl attitude and stylings. Obviously she is in denial about the embarrassing fact that she is from New Jersey otherwise, why would she be so adamant about hating it? I mean, my friends and I make snide remarks about the Dirty Jerz, but Wendy's comments are so over the top that I think she's trying to hide something. That something is her birth certificate that was issued in New Jersey. It's sad really. She's leading a double life. You can tell that the only reason she is a music librarian is to add a little class to her otherwise unclassy interests and origins. This is a noble but desperate act. I'd probably do the same thing if I were in her designer impostor shoes.

At this point, I invite all of you to share your stories and anecdotes that may help further solidify my thesis, as I will be turning it in to my advisor at the University of Phoenix Online in approximately 2 weeks.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

S.N.A.F.U.


Really? What the fuck!?! So today has been less than stellar. Since my last post, several things have happened to me. Some are cool, but most have sucked. First, my flight from Madison to Chi-Town was delayed by 2hrs (sucked). I missed my connection to San Jose (sucked). The next flight to San Jose departed 5hrs. later (sucked). The in-flight movie was "The Prestige" (cool). Crying 2yr old that sat behind me (sucked). Finally, got to San Jose at midnight (sucked). Got to the hotel and I don't have a room (sucked). Apparently, the cleaning staff is on strike, so I the customer got fucked (sucked). While waiting for the cleaning staff to finish up my room, I see a porn star, 2 dudes I assume are also in the film being shot somewhere on the premises, a midget, a bus load of rowdy christian WWF fans, and a crazy lady that reminds me of Joanna (cool). 5 minutes ago, the night manager informed the now small crowd of sleepy individuals in the lobby that are rooms would be comped for the night (sucked/cool). Yeah, no shit they will be comped. This is bullshit. The only thing is, I wasn't paying for the room anyway (cool). So I guess it's nice that my 3 hrs of sleep will be for free this evening. The only thing that could possibly turn this around is if I get recruited to be a boom operator or stand-in performer in "Gang Bang at the Holiday Inn" being filmed in bldg. 5. Travis, the assistant night mgr. is a complete tool. And now there is some cocksmoke at the counter wearing shorts, ankle high black socks and a crew neck sweatshirt yelling free breakfast for everyone. The dude is a complete D-Bag and I hate him. If I get the chance to stick him in an elevator with all of the buttons pushed, I will. If by chance, I happen to leave another post before getting a room, you may want to check the news for a Hermicidal terrorizing the Holiday Inn on First St. in San Jose. On a sidenote, some asshole just spilled his soda all over the lobby floor and said "ewww" and kept walking. What a dick! Good night?