FRANKENBLOG

Consistently the most amazing commercials in the world. I would love to work for Weiden + Kennedy, the agency that handles Nike.

I am not in charge of the stupid ads that seem to be popping up around my blog. I guess that’s the price I am paying for a free blog.

I’ve been waiting for this sequel for 3 years! Kingdom Hearts was one of my favorite games of all time, and the sequel just came out, and it’s so good, I could….well, play it for hours on end! When you turn on your playstation, and say “New Game” this is the intro movie it plays! How cool is this?

I found this guy, while doing a Google search for “Daniel Maxwell”. It does not bode well for my future.

So I’m sitting at home, it’s around midnight. I get an insurmountable craving for something sweet. I notice that its a nice night out, so I break out the bike and go for a ride, down to the 24 hr. Walgreens. Not many cars out, the cool air feels great on my face. Whooooooossshhhhhhhhh! I get to the store, and pick up some Gold Bears, and grape Gatorade (what can I say, the stuff’s delicious, and hydrating!). I ride home, much more slowly now, as its uphill, and I’ve got a bag pendulating to my right. There is a little spot of construction on the sidewalk, and they have one of those plywood pedestrian tunnels for a detour. I’ve ridden through here a million times, but tonight, as I made my final S shaped turn out of the tunnel, I had an accident. I was only going about five miles per hour, but the bag swinging into, and subsequently stopping, the spokes, was enough to make the bike flip. Head over heels, tits up. Before I know it, SLAP!, I hear the sound of someone dropping 34 steaks onto wet concrete. When I look around I notice both of my shoes are off, and about 18 feet from me. There aren’t any witnesses (thank goodness) so I pick up my bike, now with a bent wheel, and hobble back home. My leg hurts, but not that bad. Luckily though, the gatorade seems to have broken my fall.

-Hobblin’ Dan

I’ve been really stressed out with school, and I think that’s why I’ve been having these crazy dreams. I had another really odd one last night, I don’t remember this one as well as the last, but I do remember this:

I was the leader of an elite four person security force. We were defending a group of around 30 people. Apparently, an elite death squad of four was out to kill them. We all had these little Lugers, about the size of a man’s wallet. I also remember that the clip in these guns had about 200 little bullets, as large as the eye of a needle.
The Death Squad knew they couldn’t beat us one on one, so they started stealing our guns, one by one, like ninjas. When I was the only one left, I decided to go cowboy, and attack them. That’s when I woke up.

I was curious about what the guns mean, and apparently, it just means I need to get laid.

-Dan

The picture is of a Luger

I’ve been using Yelp.com a lot lately, it’s a review site. You can review all sorts of stuff. This map shows all of my current reviews. Fun!

So last night I had one of the more amazing dreams of my sleeping career.

It begins:

I’m in a cliffside home, beautiful, modern. I am staying with an eccentric billionaire who looks like Trey, from Sex and the City. He isn’t much to talk to, he gestures towards the incredible bay window overlooking the beach/highway (it’s a dream, not all of it makes sense, now try and keep up) and I notice, holy shit! Dinosaurs! A T-Rex is running along the beach/highway eating people. All I can think of is “I was sure that they were extinct.” The creature is at least five hundred yards away, and is larger than…well anything. ever. This isn’t your every day dinosaur, this is a Super-saur. I also notice that trailing behind him are hundreds, maybe thousands of similarly sized dinosaurs following behind. I stand amazed for many minutes, watching their migration from afar. I suddenly realize that I am in danger, not from the dinosaurs, but from people crazed with fear, who might attack me to get my shelter. I tell the eccentric billionaire “I need a gun! Do you have one?” “Of course not!” he responds. The door is being attacked, and I an epiphany strikes me, this isn’t about dinosaurs on the highway/beach at all, this is about me, they’re after me! I snap out of my realization, only to find that a giant long haired (but bald on top), man has gained entrance to my/the eccentric billionaire’s home! He comes at me, and I grab the thick wooden dowel that was keeping the door shut. I parry his attacks, and beat him about the head with my mop handle. this pattern continues for an altogether unreasonable amount of time, parry, whap! parry, whap! Over and over. I finally understand that this ghoul won’t fall to my attacks, not ever. I say to him “Look, if I stop hitting you, will you leave?” He agrees, and when I go to shake on it, he grabs my right hand, pulls some scissors from his wool pea coat, and proceeds to cut up the skin on my forearm! I surprisingly, am more irked by this, than anything else. He then leaves. I do too, it isn’t safe here at the villa de billions anymore. I run into the streets, the streets of San Francisco at night. The sidewalks, and roads are slick with the remnants of a great storm. Everything shines, and sparkles in the darkness. I run to the nearest crackhead, and plead with him “where can I get a gun!?” “I don’t know nothin’ ’bout no guns!” No time to argue. Just then a beautiful, but very short blonde says that I must come with her. I innately knew She was some sort of prostitute, but I thought She might have some insight as to why I was being chased. I follow Her to an ATM, an ATM located in a hole that I must crawl on my hands and knees to reach. Once there She puts in her card, precipitating the sound of a buzzer, and the lighting of a tv monitor. On the monitor, a man in a red chef’s hat says “Ohh, This card has been reported stolen, I wonder who’s it is? Let’s find out shall we? Thinking, thinking, thinking…Got it! This card belongs to ________ _________ (I can’t remember the name, it wasn’t familiar).” “Shit!” She exclaims, we have to go and see _______ _________ She says. Where is Mister _______ ________ you ask? The Supper Club. (I haven’t ever been, so it was interesting to see what my mind thought of, when conjuring the club) We were immediately there, and She waltzed right past the bouncer like she owned the place, maybe She did. I meanwhile wasn’t on the list, so I couldn’t get in past the waiting room. I caught the eye, of a young waiter who seemed to be taken with me. I saw an opportunity to get in, so I started flirting with the boy. He took the bait, hook, and line. He got me in, and then I told him I was sorry, but that I already had a boyfriend (I’m not gay, promise). The “inside” was much less glamourous than I was led to believe in the waiting room. The place looked like a run down slaughter house, the walls covered in a chipped red paint, cement floors, stained a rusty red-brown in many places. There were only a few people, but they seemed to be working. Bare light-bulbs cast long shadows, and provided only a small radius of light, outside of which the darkness fought for supremacy. I found a hallway, lined with broken, and twisted doors, leading to places I knew I didn’t want to go without the gun I was so desperately searching for. At the end of this hallway is a old dull red door, with a few contorted steps leading up to it. Behind the door, I hear Her talking to Him. I know then that I don’t want to be here. I go to explore, and find myself at an open stairwell, but as I travel down, the lighbulbs either stop working, or are unable to repulse the strengthening darkness. I cannot go here. Not without my gun. As I am running back to the front, running to escape I see a man, coiling rope, it looks like BZZZZZZ!!!! my brother Sam, I go to talk to BZZZZZZ!!!!! him, but I know now that this isn’t real and that BZZZZZZ!!!! sound is my friend Lex ringing my doorbell, but it isn’t enough to wake me, only enough for me to realize what this is, this is a dream!

Then I woke up, and got the door. Sure enough, it was Lex. No dinosaurs. No billionaires. No Her. No Him. No gun. Just Lex.

Mark and I have been frequenting this bar, The R Bar, always packed, almost always fun. We met these girls the other night, one of whom was celebrating her birthday. This is the photographic chronicle of our adventure.

This is actually Nicole, I met her first, and she demanded that I not only get her number, but call her right there so she had mine. Not complaining, just saying. She called me this morning, wants to hang out this Wednesday.

I met these girls by sneaking into their photos. They thought this was great. I was in.

The single life is hard….

Those are my glasses by the way.

The story then takes an interesting turn. The bar lights come up, and it’s time to go. I’m not done yet says she! So Mark then reminds me that I have the party SPOT! I tell the girls that we’ve got drinks back home (we don’t), and maybe they’d be interested in hanging out. Then, after they said “sure!” we began walking back to my place. Then we saw two girls holding a big box, Mark starts hitting on box girl, WHILE WE WERE TAKING TWO GIRLS HOME! Funny enough though, that box was filled with micro brew beer, and she gave us four! I guess there ARE drinks at my place!

Good times. The girls escaped soon after that, the both asserted that they had boyfriends… but we’re going to be meeting up soon, very soon.

-Dan

He’s a photographer, and he was doing a shoot, with him as the model. The picture should explain itself. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to laugh at this. I’m not sure if you are either.