This past weekend my good friend Luke sent me a wake up call, asking if I would like to go with him to a sweet lodge. I thought to myself, “Yikes, this is going to severely interfere with my Saturday afternoon calisthenics routine down by the sound,” but then I thought “Aw heck, I’ll go anyway. After all, this sweet lodge sounds pretty sweet.” Twenty minutes and an orange later, I was in Luke’s hotrod, on my way to the sweet lodge. Little did I know, I was in for one of the sweatiest days of my life.

Why was my day sweat-drenched? It all comes down to a simple mis-communication. I thought that Luke, who has a very strong and noticeable Staten Island accent, said SWEET lodge, but in reality he had said SWEAT lodge. Though the difference here is only one letter (that letter being A) the implications are significant. What did I expect? I imagined a lovely gingerbread house, with candy cane gutters, a twizzler garden hose and a gumball compost pile out back. I pictured a nice little candy lodge, something straight out of Hansel and Gretel. Well, the experience was like Hansel and Gretel…in the sense that I felt trapped in an oven for two hours.

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I was reading some Bill Faulkner today and was thinking about how terrible it would be to be someone else’s slave. I already have trouble doing things for myself. If my job was to fulfill the demands of someone else as well, I would have to file for unemployment. Except, too bad, I can’t because I’m a slave.

Now the idea that being a slave is not the best has been said again and again. It’s an idea that has been pounded into the social-consciousness since, I would say, at least 1989. As I continued to read this Faulkner novel (I should note that the people in Faulkner’s book were servants, not slaves, but I would still not be jumping at the opportunity to be a servant), I tried to think of things that could make being a slave even worse. Why I decided to think this, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I saw Saw IV last night and my mind has just been turning everything more tortuous. I came up with a couple options. One: you get impregnated by someone who is not a slave, but is a total dick, preferably the town sheriff. That would make matters much worse, but I can’t get pregnant, at least not with the technology available in slave-times. (Side-note: A really terrible themed restaurant would be one that follows the basic format of Medieval Times but is called Slave Times). Two: If I were a slave, but I also had a very developed case of alcoholism.

Someone is dying for a Margarita.

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Hello everyone, I hope you are having a terrific week so far, I know mine has been pretty mediocre. Today I wanted to address a topic which, while not really in my field of interest, I am oftentimes asked about. That topic is the sensitive issue of foreplay. For those who do not know, foreplay is a romantic activity. An activity popularized by Mr. James Bond. I know I’m typing to a diverse crowd. There are some people who are very open with their sexuality. Then there are other, less whorish, less sinful, people who are preserving the sanctity of their loins for holy matrimony. Today I won’t be addressing either one because I’ve invented something new; it’s called fore-foreplay.

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I haven’t been to the gym in months, its awful. I can slip my entire arm through most keyholes and I break a sweat when I accelerate my car. When school is in session DJ and I try to stick with a fairly regimented work out schedule, pumping iron a minimum of three days a week. Unfortunately, we kind of slipped off our schedule…back in November. I have since found a supplemental exercise program, but in many ways its falls short. That program is Wii Fit. It is easy to use, I like the look of my Mii character and I can finally wear what I want (spandex) to the gym. I’ve been able to push aside the program’s shortcomings (ie: lack of results),until now. I’ve recently come to suspect my Wii Fit instructor is a gay.

Leslie, my instructor.

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This is kind of an odd podcast… an oddcast? Me and Roy just basically turned the mics on and went to town. Usually we prepare for 5-10 minutes before we do that…

Next week we’ll be in New Paltz so I’m sure we’ll have a whole lot more time (and booze) on our hands. Subsequently, the quality of these podcasts should dramatically increase.