Conor - The Perfect Day

Priorities are something I've often wallowed about here in the halls of Classic Brian. To summarize my earlier findings, doing things is hard, and I hate doing things. More often than not, being responsible and productive is more difficult than not giving a damn. Which sucks!

Oftentimes, while wondering what terrible god would do things like make peoples metabolisms operate on wildly different scales and make tying ties so tricky, I wonder what I do if I was suddenly free of the logical shackles of this world. What if I wasn't obliged to do society any service, what if I distance meant nothing, what if time was my only limitation and I could effectively do whatever I wanted?

If I had 24 hours to spend however I wanted to, how would I do it? What would My Perfect Day look like?

Here we go. Most of this can happen in any order, unless otherwise noted in my description.

2 hours would be spent playing Ultimate in Norman. Everyone would be there. It would be good ultimate, we would play well, but it would not be taken seriously. The game wouldn't devolve into exclusively upside-down hucks and the like, but it would definitely get pretty stupid by the end.

An embarrassing 3 hours of the day would be spent playing Final Fantasy. Know that I shaved a lot of other things down in order to ensure that FF got its fair share.


2 hours would be spent at improv practice. I say improv practice because, while I love the rush of having to make the improv good because there's an audience watching, at improv practice we can do stupid, regrettable things. Things can go badly and it can be way funnier than if they had gone well and we don't have to give a damn. We can ensure our spots in hell, worry free. Also, everyone who's ever been in improv would be there. And I wouldn't be the leader.


1 hour would be spent at either Steak N' Shake or Little Saigon. Come one, come all. EVERYBODY SHOW UP.

1/2 an hour would be spent at Snowbiz Shaved Ice. I guess, for financial purposes, it would be a Tuesday, so we could get two for one. I would get a medium sour lemon, sour green apple concoction. Every time I haven't gotten this I have regretted it.


1/2 an hour would be spent going on a run through Washington Park with Nick Dietrich, and whoever else worked up the energy to come with us that day. Which I guess would be the whole crew. Because this is the Perfect Day. We would run around the park twice. This would probably occur around 11:00 at night. No park police would bother us about being in the park after it's closed, because how do you close a park.


2 hours recording a new song with Band Practice. It would be a good song and everyone would like it. The lyrics would not be bad, and every band member would have an interesting part. It would not be showy, or too melodramatic. It would just work well. Later, we would play a 1 hour show that would be reasonably well attended. It would be a very very small venue so it would appear like there was better attendance than there was. Somehow, I would not sweat.


12 hours down.


2 hours would be spent sitting around 1042 Leslie Lane, and doing whatever. Relaxing. Chillaxing, maybe even. Fuck you, blogspot, don't you dare put a red squiggly line underneath chillaxing as if you don't know exactly what I mean. I would maybe take turns playing Halo 3 with some of the guys, maybe  I would just sit in the living room we've entitled The War Room and talk to people, watching a movie in the second living room we call Codename: Bitch Tits, maybe I'd play ping-pong, maybe we'd play Risk maybe I'd just sit in my room and read. It don't matter. It'd be nice.


3 hours would be spent going to dinner with my family and then playing board games with them afterwards. We would go to someplace nice. Like Ginger Asian Bistro. We would then play Banagrams, or Chasing Mr. X or whatever that new game someone just got for Christmas was. I wouldn't win. Even in my perfect day, I have to accept simple facts about life.

2 hours would be spent seeing an impossible concert. It would basically be like a 2 hour mix CD where every band plays one or two songs and so there are like 10 or 11 of my favorite bands. There is no set up or tear down time. Somehow. It's in a medium sized venue. Probably in Oklahoma, but people from Illinois are there, too, for some reason. It's crazy.


Or it could just be a 2 hour Mountain Goats concert. I'm cool with that too.


2 hours would be spent in a car, driving, talking to whoever else would be in the car, and listening to music. The sun would be setting. I'd probably be drinking a monster.


2 hours would be spent at a party in Springfield. The Party Planning Committee would have pretty set it up. I would be the designated driver, but I would still have a fantastic time. I would get to see all of the people I miss, all of the people who I acknowledge I haven't put enough energy into seeing while I'm back in town. I've been thinking about this lately. It's so easy and so convenient for me to spend time with the same 5 or 6 people in Springfield, and because I am a creature of sloth I've done just that. I feel pretty shitty about that. I will do my best. I haven't done well thus far, but I'll try. I know if I wait any longer to start maintaining these relationships, it will be too late.

2 hours would be spent at a party in Norman. I would not be the designated driver.


I would also take a 45 minute nap.


Also my perfect day would be 25 hours and 45 minutes long.

It would also be my birthday.

And Christmas.

EDIT: If anyone's interested, list the contents of your perfect day. It's probably exactly like mine.

Conor - Reprise

Eliot just lost against Vargas for the second time. Vargas isn't a very hard boss, Eliot just plays with a little too much style. He has a natural inclination towards flair, an irrepressible urge to give the audience a show. So instead of just hitting "attack" over and over again until Vargas the improbably big and improbably evil martial arts master falls to his assault, Eliot takes his time. Eliot inputs random button commands, hoping that something cool will happen, and the game's like "what are you doing, no," and big ol' Vargas laughs and punches him in the face again. Twice now Eliot's thrown the match in an attempt to pull off a big stunt. As big of a stunt as you can pull in Final Fantasy VI, anyway. The kid needs to play within himself.

That's cool, though, that's fine, I have a Classic Brian to write and nothing better to watch. Actually that's not true at all. Watching cooler better things is the how I've kept myself busy over the break. 7 episodes of the Wire over 2 days and 5 episodes of Breaking Bad today alone. Boom. Thanksgiving Break, 2011, motherfuckers. Y'all know how I do.

Thanksgiving Break is an awkward break. Thanks to OU oppressing us with Monday and Tuesday classes I'm given 4 days to enjoy Springfield, Illinois. As Eliot pointed out, those 4 days can be spent either relaxing and enjoying myself with the few close friends who I naturally gravitate to in my spare time, or I can spend them running across town and seeing every single one of the people who I've missed and need to catch up with. I miss these people and I'd love to see them, but a long, stressful semester has tired me out, there's mashed potatoes in the fridge and freshish rolls on the stove, Winter Break is right around the corner, and Nick's house is right across the street. Looks like I'm playing Mario Party and watching the Wire tonight.

As brief as it is, Thanksgiving Break came at the perfect time this year. I may have bitten off more than I can chew this semester, and a lot of stressors were accumulating at worrying rates. Thanksgiving rolls around like a beautiful, beautiful Band-Aid, solving nothing, but at least giving me a slight respite from all of that. I don't deal with my problems, I drive 10 hours away from them for a week or so. Like I said, y'all know how I doooo.

Here in Springfield, we never have plans for the here and now, we always have plans for the future. Like I know what TV shows I'm going to ruin over Winter Break, and what video games I'm going to marathon, and what gigs Band Practice will hopefully be playing, and such, but tonight? Yeah, I'm cool with Steak n' Shake if you guys are. I don't mind this. I don't have to be doing something special to enjoy myself, it's just nice seeing everyone, but we have significant problems coming up with plans that aren't Steak n' Shake.

Once again, not like that's a bad thing. Anyone in Norman who's witnessing my current Cane's spiral of self-destruction should know that I would never grace that lowly chicken tender vendor (heyooo) with my presence if there was a Steak n' Shake in town. This shit is for real. There's nothing quite like a Western BBQ Bacon burger, hold the cheese because cheese is gross and also icky. Food was a big priority for me this break. I did not fail in my goals to eat all of the foods. Apologies to anyone who wanted any of the foods.

If anyone wanted to practice their intervention skills, I could really use a lot less Monster energy drink in my life. The balls in your court now, everybody else in my life. This is now your responsibility, and more importantly, your fault. Stop allowing me to drink this delicious garbage really really often.

Sunday I drive back to Norman for 2 or 3 weeks of hard work, and then I will return here. I will probably sit in this chair, and play this video game with these people. I'm looking forward to it, it'll be a welcome rest, as apposed to the nap that is Thanksgiving Break. Like naps, it was very pleasant and I needed it, but it lulled me into a false sense of security. There's still work to be done. That's fine though. Y'all know how I do.

Rememberance to the tenth power = immortality

Damn, I guess I am gonna die.

There's gotta be that one great beautiful dark twisted death out there that is just the perfect way to crystallize your corpse in the minds of millions worldwide. Fuck that, billions worldwide. Way to fucking go, this guy.

But, since that idea's taken, (not, you know, the feeling of smoldering yourself and boiling, melting, oh my God that sounds awful) I'll have to come up with something else.

You know who's really memorable? Forrest Gump. I mean, shit, if I had met Gump during one of his numerous (mis)adventures, I would definitely not forget the guy. In a day and age where celebrities die every day and become distant memories within weeks, you have to make contact with people in order to cement yourself in their memory.

And as good of a name as Eliot Sill is, I need something legendary. I'm thinking Kirken Waltsh. That's good. It sounds like a thing, and less of a name. You guys will all Kirken Waltsh one day. Middle name? C-something. Kirken C. Waltsh. 

I'm gonna meet a ton of people. And I'm gonna kick all their asses, not literally, but in a that-guy-just-blew-my-mind type of way.

Step one: Become a teacher.

You know how every one has that one teacher they will absolutely never forget? That's gonna be me. I'm gonna teach English, a subject every one has to take, and I'm going to be the best thing that's hit words since the semi-colon. First off, I'll speak completely in rhyme, and hire TA's to pencil-beat or beatbox (for advanced level TA's) all class long, with my main points summarized in refrains that, picture it, by the end of the lecture the whole class is singing as my army of hype men. Yes. That'll be hard to forget.

Oh, and screw not cussing. This teacher's new-school.

This is a limited time offer to America's youth. I've only got between four and six years to blow getting my name out there before the task has been completed and I quit fucking teaching. The seeds of my face have been planted in the youth. They will tell their parents, their friends, and their children about Mr. Waltsh. My network of knownness will grow, spreading across the body of the country like blood from a gunwound. Have I lost you yet? Good. Follow, follow.

Step two: Own land, and lord it.

This could take anywhere from two to 20 years, depending on how long I feel like running with it. I want a lot of places owned by me, rented out to people. I will stress the lord moreso than the land, trying to paint a picture of myself as a high-society official. Speaking of which, I will implement a genius nugget of landowning policy: 50 bucks off your monthly rent if you hang a portrait of me somewhere in your home. If you're too egotistical to save this money, fine, pay me. Discounts go up, depending on where you place the portrait, for instance, if I walk into your apartment and see my stoic face staring back at me with some tastefully dramatic lighting drawing proper respectful attention to me, then bam, it's like: what are you going to spend your fresh $200 on?

I get real close with my tenants. After all, they have to think I'm living room portrait worthy. I build a real sense of community with my giant, nicely kept playplace in the middle of my complex, coupled with a bar (which is severely cheap; I do not need to profit monetarily from this, prestige is my currency).

Step three: Invent a new facial expression.

Yes, this is where my plot turns from golden to platinum. I will be everywhere wearing this thing. Eye-contacting as many passersby as is manageable.

When I master this, you will walk by me, and be

struck by someone with depression, hope and

a Nike swoosh for a mouth.

 

Was he laughing, yawning or eating an imaginary triple-cheeseburger?

 Why did that guy look like a mixture of a bird and an

old lady?

 

This, when mastered, will look unquestionably like there

is a black hole somewhere below the back of my brain

that I am using everything I've got to prevent from sucking

my entire body into.

Okay so this is really hard ... but I've worked up a few prototypes. I have, basically, all my spare time from graduation until I'm done landlording to master these. Just giving you some ideas. 

These interactions will be merely milliseconds in length, and will be enough to bury the image of my face deep in the unconsciouses of millions. But when recalled, they'll remember me, in a deja vu sort of way and think: "where have I seen that face before?"

Step four: Mass produce t-shirts of me.

On the front, nothing. On the back? As big as can allow, me, giving the face, and throwing a fierce thumbs-up. Underneath it in excited, Dr. Tinycat font text: "WALTSH HAS YOUR BACK;"

Yeah, the semi-colon is vital here. Peculiarity, memorability, fueled by originality. Sometimes originality is trying to put a square peg in no hole at all, but just letting it lie there and saying "that's where my peg is, you see?"

I will peddle these shirts, give them out for free, whatever. They will be plentiful and they will be worn, people will see the face, people will recognize the face, people will recognize their landlord, their teacher. I am growing, in populus, and in longevity.

Step five: Make small talk with the President at a very opportune time.

Big speech, millions watching, I charge the stage, with an undeniable smile. The President, definitely male by this point, is calm, he knows I mean no harm.

Me: "Hey, you're doing great!"

He: "Ha, well, thank you, can I help you?"

Me: "Yeah, you should really give this a look."

(Hands item)
He: "What's this?"

Me: "I just finished that book, it's really good, but I think you'd like it more."
He: "No reason I can't give it a look."

Me: "Exactly. Dinner later?"
He: "Busy."

Me: "Fair. Security?"

He: "I can call."
Me: "That'd be great."

Step six: Run for City Clerk somewhere...

...and spend billions on the campaign. Where is all this money coming from? Most, at this point from campaign funders, but also I will have money from landowning, and t-shirt sales. Also donations. I will be wealthy. I just will.

Anyway, my campaign will rival the President's. Only I will be running for City Clerk. Which isn't capitalized, but I will bring status to the office to the point of capitalization. I will tour the country, telling people across America to "really pressure the citizens of Peosta, Iowa, to vote me for City Clerk."

If the other guy gets a vote I swear to fucking god.

Step seven: Offer an infamous commencement speech

My popularity will be high by this point, and I must clinch status atop society by telling college kids what their future holds. 

Probably University of Illinois. I will start this speech by complaining about my toothache. How after all the preparation I put into the speech I have this stupid bloody toothache. This whining goes on for twelve minutes, and includes lots of sighing, some groaning, one minute of fighting an urge to cry. I may have this toothache, I suppose, but I am planning on this being a lie. Just when things are getting unbearable, and action is an instant from being taken, I spring into freestyle rap. I leap off the stage over to my drum set, microphone in hand, and rap to my own beat about how life is like a toothache, and so forth. 

By the end, the crowd can't fucking believe shit. I have solved all of their futures. All of their futures rhyme and flow magnificently. This makes CNN. Kirken Waltsh would be knighted if we lived in England. Hell, I might go over there and ask — worth a shot, right?

Step eight: Go overseas with the sole purpose of throwing kickass parties

I will sell everything I have, reputation stolid in America, and move to Europe.

I will throw the biggest, most lavish, most inclusive, and crunkest parties on the planet. Kirken Waltsh; party extraordinaire. Everyone's invited. Everyone's doing substances. Everyone's having the time of their lives. Party's status as a word will be put in jeopardy, as they will start referring to these large gatherings — and large gatherings everywhere — as Waltshes. Like a Waltz, but not so pretentious.

These will be my glory years.

Step nine: Advertise

I come back to America. Ready to rake in the millions.

A la The Most Interesting in the World, I will have advertise a sensible product. Maybe Coca-Cola, maybe Foster's beer, maybe Hardee's, maybe Tommy Hilfiger clothing. I will be on televisions everywhere, or computers by that point, if that's how life is then. 

Step ten: End it like no one else

My death, shall be boring. But, as usual, I will make the situation more interesting. Famous last words, ones that fit the moment. I shall have none of that, but what I will have is some milk, please. As I lay on my death bed, I will ask that I be placed in a tub and given milk to drink. All the milk I can ask for. I shall drink this creamy white utterance down like it is the kingdom of heaven itself, and go out completing the milk gallon challenge. I die before I throw up. Or I die, then throw up, but that doesn't count. Because I'm dead. My last words will be, "milk is how I'm going to die." And I bet NO ONE has exited on that line before.

It's all about being different.

Life isn't like a box of chocolates. It's like a box of pinless grenades. No matter what you pick, you and those around you are going to die. But it's not what you get, it's in what situation you choose to open the box.

--Eliot Sill

Nick - The Best Game Ever

We've all heard the arguments about which video game is the best game ever: they say that Super Mario changed the tides of gaming; they say that The Legend Of Zelda: Ocarina Of Time was the most innovative game ever.

But of course, we all know which game is really the best ever.

Final Fantasy X - 2 has everything a good video game needs. It has interesting characters, a meaningful plot line, and you can play dress-up.

Just looking at the cover, we can see out three main characters. Rikku is sassy and fun. Yuna is smart and relatable. And Paine is strong and don't take sass from nobody.

Unfortunately, the rest of the Final Fantasy series is sorely disappointing; it's filled with confusing plot lines and repetitive gameplay. But hey, I won't complain since it gave us one of the greatest games of all time in the form of X - 2.

-Nick.

Conor - This Post Actually Happened

Nicholas Dietrich I am a man of my word, eventually.

Everyone's seen Inception, right? Even if you haven't, listen to this. This is the ending theme to Christopher Nolan's Inception, and it's a powerful, powerful theme. Without giving away the details to the plot of the movie (the summary would probably get pretty longwinded and hard to follow anyway), the ending is emotional. It's triumphant, but there's a sadness underneath it all. There's ambiguity there, and the pain all of the characters have gone through is evident through this song. Hans Zimmer is incredible and I love this song, but movies are terribly finite things. The song starts, and 3 or 4 minutes later it's gone. It comes, it goes, and that's all we get. It captures the moment perfectly, but the moment is much too short. 

That's the beauty of Nobou Uematsu's work. He is the man who is responsible for probably like 99.9% of the music in the first ten Final Fantasy's. Nobou Uematsu's primary line of work does not involve capturing a scene, although when asked he does that quite skillfully. No. Nobou captures characters, towns, and entire worlds through his songs, and I love him for it.

Take Aerith's theme, for example. Or maybe her name is Aeris. Squaresoft sortof fucked up on that one. Aerith is the light of hope in Final Fantasy VII. She's a tragic character, but she never falls or breaks down to the sadness around her. She's unrelentingly positive, and not in an annoying way. Despite her outlook she can't prevent her death at the hands of Sephiroth, a girly looking badass, but she dies smiling. She's stabbed through the chest with a giant katana and she's like, smiling. This song perfectly communicates all of this. At least to me it does. Aerith's death scene is iconic, but I think it's the events immediately following that really blew me away the second time I played through the game. After Aerith totally dies and stuff the play her theme, and even as you fight this huge mutated beast, her theme continues to play, reminding us of why we're fighting and what we've lost. Ask Brian and Eliot, I didn't shut up about how cool I found that shit. 

Combat in Final Fantasy takes on 2 different forms. 1) Battles that are relevant to the story, i.e., fights with central antagonists, confrontational battles that push the plot forward. 2) Random fights that are irrelevant and extraneous, but necessary, because, well, it's a video game. Random fights comprise the vast, vaaaast majority and there's such variety in these battles that Nobou has to make upbeat, energetic, dramatic music that won't become obnoxious when listened to for the 300th time. He's damn good at it, too. FF VII and X have particularly good ones. But it's in the specific, story related fights that the epicness truly kicks it into high gear. With these specific tunes Nobou gets to personalize his themes. The final boss of FF VII is classic. Basically, the aforementioned pretty boy Sephiroth has turned into a shirtless angel 6 wings making up his lower body and a huge dark halo surrounding him. He has become a god, and his first new law as God is that he's going to destroy everything. A bold move that I think politicians should mimic. The music is apocalyptic and chaotic, the chorus sings "SEPHIROTH" and the world feels like it's falling apart. Awesome. Awesome.

I'm worried that I'm asking too much of you guys, so one last song. Check it out, Ami, from Final Fantasy VIII. This is the theme of the one place the main characters call home in the game. It's the only place they really belong, and as the game goes on they're forced to consider their home in a critical light and question it, but they never truly forsake it. While walking through the place, this is the song that plays, and by the end of the game you've probably heard this music dozens of times, for literally hours, but it never becomes grating. It always feels welcoming, familiar and warm. Whenever I walk back into Balamb Garden it's there. It's infinite.

The length of Final Fantasy games contributes to the music. Games take 40+ hours to beat. If it's one of the better Final Fantasy's, by the end you know the world and characters pretty damn well. Imagine if someone you were really attached to had a theme song. Imagine that your house, or some other place you truly love, had a song that embodied everything you liked about it. That's what Nobou gives to us. That's what he deals in. 

I TAKE MY FINAL FANTASY MUSIC PRETTY SERIOUSLY. 

Things that make me go bump in the night.

So guys, what have you done with your last week?

I have lost my wallet, beaten Final Fantasy XIII, worked way too much, gone camping, seen Band Practice in concert, written a will on behalf of my '95 pimp van, and seen Inception twice.

Losing my wallet sucked ass tits. Beating Final Fantasy was great, working was a worthy investment (so I'd like to think), going camping was awe inspiring, seeing Band Practice was really cool, learning of the van's impending doom was, well, expected. But man... seeing Inception gave me what I like to call a "nerd boner".

I have seen five Christopher Nolan films. All of which have stuck with me due to the impressive (and impressively consistently impressive) storytelling. Always do I leave the movie wanting to turn around and go watch it again. Oftentimes I do, as was the case with Inception. Memento, The Prestige, Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, and Inception all rank in my top twenty favorite movies. That's pretty ridiculous. One director can claim a fourth of my favorites to his name (not that he'd care to). Each of those movies contains ridiculous depth and all of them are prone to plotholes due to their complexity, but you would strain yourself coming up with any harshly significant ones. The man should really collaborate with Disney Pixar, seeing as how both entities seemingly can do no wrong.

Anyway, back to my raging nerd boner. Seeing movies like this gives me the uncontrollable urge to dissect the film and truly understand it for everything the director wants the movie to be understood for. Hence I saw The Dark Knight six times in theatres. It inspired me to watch three seasons of Batman: The Animated Series and was the reason I grew my hair out two months longer than I wanted to just so I could pull off a killer Joker for Halloween. I delve into the mythology of these amazing stories, pore over the internet for tidbits of info on who will be playing The Riddler in Batman 3, see other people's theories on the ending to Inception. When something so anticipated and something you are so interested in is done so well, it transcends the label of being a "great movie" and reaches beyond the love you had for it going into the production. The Dark Knight is a movie I love and cherish due to its brilliance in bringing to life a story that graphic novels can take only so far. My imagination runs rampant with ideas and stories that would be portrayed if Heath Ledger's dumbass wouldn't have OD'ed after giving his best on-screen performance ever (and that dude played a gay guy! a gay cowboy no less! that shit is hard to do!). Hey, there's still hope Heath faked his death and that The Joker will be back in Batman 3. Leave it to Nolan to stage the greatest subterfuge in the history of mankind, right? Right? ....sigh..... if only.

Finding flaws in Chris Nolan movies is like bitching about the one thing your parents didn't get you for Christmas. However, in the case of Inception, Rotten Tomatoes has found plenty of gripers to showcase the neediness of American movie-goers. If you read into the negative commentary most of it is either ignorant people who didn't care enough to actually invest themselves into understanding the movie or ignorant people who didn't like it because it was weird and different. This movie offers so much it serves up a brand new never before thought of concept, exhilarating and epic action sequences, engaging and dynamic characters, and about six layers of thickening plot on a two and a half hour long platter. I won't ask for anything more, except maybe a ticket to the next available showing. (Oh and here's some related reading if you thought the Inception critics were laughably unreasonable. The funny thing is, look at how smart most of these people try to sound just because they need you to believe they're smarter than you for their opinion against conventional wisdom to hold any ground)

Chris Nolan, the man who knows how to make movies better than you do, is working on a story for Batman 3. Two years from now, that movie will have been out for a day (I will probably be on viewing number 3). Fact is, Inception serves as proof to me that the man can and will do no wrong. He can take something, make it up, and then do it to perfection the first time. He is brainstorming a mind blowing movie right now and for that I thank him. Until that day two years from now, I will be anticipating, keeping busy, watching less significant big screen releases, re-watching old Nolan masterpieces, and waiting patiently as the movie of my dreams comes together like a symphony under the conducting of the one man who I'd trust with my life to do it beautifully.

Guys, I really like Christopher Nolan.

--Eliot Sill

I'm Fucking Back. Finally.

Stop fucking crying. That means you, Drama Queen and E Silly. I'm back. Let's fucking FFFF asap. Sorry I missed my last post, everyone. I had virtually no access to a computer during my travels. I've been gone too long. Don't get me wrong, I had fun. I got to go to da Joisey Shore and NYC and it was fucking cool. I stopped home for a night and then traveled in completely the other direction and went to Colorado. There i saw the Rocky Mountains, and even camped in them for a night. They were fucking gorgeous. I'm just really glad to be home.

It's been a long 2 weeks. I feel like I haven't seen my friends in forever. I can't wait to just hang out with them again. I also went through a rough patch with my girlfriend, Julia, which we weren't gonna tell anyone about, but somehow everyone knew almost instantly. Never fear though, we're good to go and better than ever cuz she's the best and I can't wait to just hang out with her again. Sorry ladies.

But enough serious shit. I have come to restore a sense of comedy to my blog. Why? Because it's fucking classic, that's why. Robert, I'm fucking cooler than you, despite the fact that I drive a dented silver Ford Taurus and don't walk anywhere. Get over it. Boom! Roasted. Eliot, I could tots stay up later than you if I really wanted. I could also beat you at any sport. Sports! Boom! Roasted. Conor, You break stuff. High five! Band Practice! Boom! Roasted. Mada, theater is lame and is too much effort for the short moments of glory you get out of it. Also, you had your heart broken by Conor. Conor. And my girlfriend is hotter than you so no, I don't wish my girlfriend was hot like you. Boom! Roasted.

Just kidding guys! Mostly.

-Classic Brian

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

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.