Conor - Improv

This is Conor O'Brien, and this will be on the first and last day I post on sundays. After this week I will be trading Robert Langellier for his Friday slot, which will make things work out smoother for both of us. Seeing as how this is my only sunday post, I thought it would be fitting to write about something that has been a part of my life every sunday for the past 5 years of my life: The Easily Amused Improv troupe. That blows my mind to just type, or say out loud. I've been in the troupe for 5 years. Longer than high school. Let me back up.

I'm the baby of my family, the youngest of four. I always idolized my older brother and sisters and their friends. My entire life I've been hanging out with the big kids, looking up to them and never really feeling like I belonged amongst them but trying my best to keep up. My sister Betsy was in the Easily Amused Improv troupe that her friend Matt Grant started, but I couldn't tell you anything about that entity, because my sister Betsy refused to let any member of the family come and see a show. Years after Betsy has left the group I'm in 8th grade, and I get invited by Janell Magnusson, who I'm working backstage on a Muni show with, to audition for the troupe. I audition, I make it.

When I joined the troupe, everybody else seemed like giants to me. These people were not the kind of people I could ever hope to be. They were witty, nice, cool, friendly, and hilarious. They were perfect. It took me a long time to feel like I was a part of the group. It didn't feel right, I couldn't comprehend being one of them. Everyone was extremely welcoming to me, and before I knew it I was being carted around after practice with the older members, taken to dinners, movies, and houses. I became friends with some, and good friends with others, and I loved it. I would look forward to every Sunday, just so I could go and have a good time with everyone.

Two years go by and my friends come and go. New members join, and old members leave. Watching new members go through what I went through is always interesting. It's always satisfying when you finally notice that the new kid isn't the new kid anymore. It takes weeks, months even, but eventually everyone gets absorbed into the family. That's what I've always felt about improv. It's a family. I may not know everything there is to know about Ben Shane, and I may not know next to anything about Kevin Tkach, but they're a part of us. It doesn't make a difference if I see you every day or if I only see you at improv. I have a certain understanding of who you are, thanks to the 2 hours we spend together weekly.

I've been the leader of the troupe for three years now. I don't know how I've done. I think we're funny still. Being leader has been much different than being a member. Sometimes I don't feel like I'm in control, and sometimes I don't feel like I'm one of the guys, but I've still had fun, even if I was handed some extra stress. I hope I haven't killed it. We've added new traditions, and we've lost old ones. We do skits now, and we have sleepovers. We have a bit of a problem finding young blood right now. We haven't had as many shows as I would have wanted us to have, and that's my fault. Pretty much all of that is my fault, but I think it can survive. In January we had a show that over 100 people came to. I had a hand in that, too. I'm not Dane Gaydos and I'm not Mike Watts and I'm not Matt Grant, but I think I love improv as much as any of those guys did. I really do. For 5 years now it's been the highlight of my week. It's going to be weird not having that in my life anymore. I'll miss it.

Sorry if that wasn't interesting to anyone not in improv. I'll make things better next week.

-Conor

Classic Brian

We're all graduating today (except Robert, but he didn't even really graduate...why are we having our graduation party with him again?). It's really strange because I feel like I've been out of school for a long time already, but it's only been a week. I'm really looking forward to this summer. It's gonna be schweeeeet. I have my trip to New Jersey, my trip to Florida, Lollapalooza, and hardcore FFFFin for about 3 months straight to look forward to.

But back to this graduation business. I'm glad we learned how to walk down an isle this morning. I never knew how to do that before. Totally worth getting up at 8 in the morning for? I think so. Now I'm just sitting here waiting for graduation time so I can hurry up and officially put an end to my high school career. I figure this is a pretty enjoyable way to pass the time. For those of you that I like and may never see again after today's ceremony; it's been real, and I'll genuinely miss you. For those of you that I'm going to college with, let's rock this bitch. That quote was for you, Conor. And Conor, you will get your ass to U of I or Springfield whenever you get a chance and we will FFFF so hard.

Let's all have some fun at grad parties this weekend. Say "Fuck you" to the people who didn't invite you to theirs, then show up anyway. Carrie, sorry I had to leave yours so soon after getting there. I had to get back to my house to prepare for my family's party after graduation today. It was fun for the brief period I was there. Speaking of parties though...come to the party that Conor, Robert, Mada, and I are having tomorrow at Mada's house from 4-8. It's gonna be awesome.

Stay classy, world.

-Classic Brian

A really depressing first post about goodbyes

-Robert Langellier

As far as I can remember, I've never had to truly say goodbye to a good friend like I did today. Especially not to one of my best friends in the whole wide universe. Unfortunately, people come and people go as they do, and my Thai friend Nadia Wiwatwicha flew forever into the infinite unknowns of foreign countries and engineering colleges today. As wrenching as that was, one of the main things that I learned from this week is how difficult it is to feel what you know you should be.

Throughout the week Nadia was stressed out by nostalgia and packing, and from time to time she vented about how the people closest to her were treating her. She perceived that some of those around her were seeing her only as a kid who needed to pack more efficiently rather than a friend about to go away. My response was generally a variation of "They're probably just suppressing their emotions so they don't have to think about you leaving. That's what people do."

Ironically, I pretty much did that myself. I was able to shut myself off so completely that I could talk to her about things such as the above paragraph and yet not think about it myself. As a tangible example, I knew the whole week I should've been getting her a going away present, but I shouldered the idea and never really addressed it until we'd already dropped her off at the airport. Like said, I've never had to deal with a circumstance like this, so I responded by entirely neglecting to do so. The result was a kind of empty, rushed feeling of helplessness and failure to react when we finally hugged goodbye at the terminal. I treated the preceding week with her just like any ordinary succession of moments, so I treated that last moment as such, too. I mean I might see her one more time or never for the rest of my life, and all I could think to say was "Bye Nadia."

The part of that that is really scary is the fact that, although I'm closer to Nadia than all but 2 or 3 people, she's only the first of an endless train of childhood friends headed every direction out of Springfield this summer. If I can't invest emotion into one goodbye, I'm not going to respond to 10, 20, 30, or 100 more good friends leaving. As much as I don't want to see myself marginalize the importance of so many of my friendships, I don't see any other outcome.

My diagnosis: Senior year summer is bittersweet.
My prescription: Don't complicate things as much as I am.

Change of plans

Eliot Sill is manning the blog tonight again because I'm awesome.
Speaking of me, now would be an opportune time for me to tell you who I am in detail.

I was raised differently than you, and had fun with it. I have two older brothers and several friends that have molded my personality to the unique and obscure entity it is today. I was raised on sports. I love football and basketball. I can watch them without end for days at a time. I was raised on Green Bay Packers and Michael Jordan, Master P was the soundtrack to my toddler years (thanks to my eldest hermano Andrew), but "What I Got" (Sublime if you're a dumbass) was the first song I had memorized.

My parents have recently gotten divorced, which is some fucked up shit if you've never been through it before. I'm not here to bitch and moan about it, but it certainly makes you think.

Next year you can catch me at U of I Champaign, majoring in the futile field of Journalism. Hopefully you like my writing, because it's my livelihood waiting to happen. If you don't like my writing then buzz off.

I LIKE NBA. BASKETBALL IS FUN. CELTICS LAKERS GAME ONE of the NBA FINALS TONIGHT.
It's third quarter and Celtics are getting squashed. I hate Boston but I can't really vouch for LA either. Lakers and Celtics have won over HALF of the NBA titles ever. HALF! Keep in mind the Cubs haven't won a title in 100 years. That's ridawkulous. I can't decide who to root for because both teams annoy the crap out of me for different reasons. The Celtics are a bunch of pricks and the Lakers won 4 out of 10 titles in the last decade, and have been in contention for six of them. Both teams are despicably annoying. SPORTS!

Also, since you asked, Cory Robinson will be relieving Tynan Shevlin of duty for this blog. So for now I'm rambling about some bullshit you don't care about, but Cory hits the keys next week, and that motherfucker is interesting.


I picked up writing when school made me. I was good at it because school told me I was. Since then I've been putting words on screens and papers as a method of getting them out of my mind.

Please forgive me for the three minutes of your life that I'm sapping, but it'll all be worth it once we figure this whole thing out. Your interest will peak, I swear it.

Classic moment of the day: I filled out my FAFSA and my U of I applications differently, because of a discrepancy in the NAME category. Apparently Eliot Sill's Financial Aid money didn't get transferred to Robert E. Sill's application. Yeah, I feel like the dumbest. Application change form has been faxed, but I'm still hoping that money transfers successfully. Thanks for reminding me my college registration date was today Brian. Too bad I missed it because I don't know my own name.

--Eliot Sill

Mission Statement

Hey folks, this is a blog. Sorry, we know.

But hopefully you and us can all get past that. We've signed up for this shindig to see what happens. This is a blog hosted by Conor O'Brien, Tynan Shevlin, Mada Larson, Robert Langellier, Eliot Sill, Nicholas Dietrich, and lastly and most importantly Brian Malone. We write to entertain ourselves, and hopefully you too.

The title of the blog is self-explanatory -- Brian Malone is a classic mother fucker. So we write what we think in his honor, to show how much we care about the community. Every time you read our blog, a child in India gets adopted; so CHECK US OUT. Again.

If you noticed, there are seven names that I previously listed. Convenient, seeing as how there are seven days in a week. Each one of us will have something tasty for you to read on each day of the week. So, shit guys, daily updates! (That's the plan.) We're jumping into this face first so, we'll see how it goes.

First legitimate update to be posted tomorrow (JUNE THIRD) by Tynan Shevlin.

It's been real guys. Come back and see us.