ENEMIES OF THE FRIDGE

There are a lot of people, places, and things out in this cruel world that I define as my enemies. I am a simple creature, and I rarely feel neutral about issues. I enjoy this because there is no “grey-area” for confusion in my life. The following is a list of just a select few of the things in the world that are out there to inhibit my progress toward that lofty, yet simple goal of happiness. Early returns of my 25 full years on earth indicate that eventually reaching this goal is doubtful.

ENEMY 1 - Humidity - I fucking hate it. I can stand heat. I really can. I hate that stupid phrase "it's not the heat, it's the humidity," because it's so stupid but true. I went to Phoenix in June two years ago and I (extremely) legitimately thought about never coming home. It was gorgeous and comfortable, yet my fears of flying, change and commitment probably will lead to me not leaving the Metro West suburbs of Boston until I'm deceased. I hate the way that my testicles spread out like bat wings and stick to the insides of my thighs on humid days. I hate the way I cannot stop sweating. I hate paying for air conditioning. I like the months of March and November. I also enjoy time spent in the Freezer aisle at the grocery store.

ENEMY 2 - Low Flush Capacity Toilets - I am a large man, with exquisite dining tastes and classy eating habits. However, to say I may gorge or overindulge on occassion would be also accurate. Too many members of the exclusive club called friends and family are currently living in homes that were constructed in the era just after World War 2. Funny enough, many landlords/homeowners have seen no need to purchase a new toilet since 1950. Don't they understand that the average fatso in America today is consuming a combination of protein shakes, cheap ale, burritos, steak tips and late night chinese food on a weekly basis? The shit monster from Dogma was the 4th roommate at my college apartment. I really have become a pro at plunging of late, though. Luckily, no incidents at the new residence. Yet. In turn, I have really been letting them fly at the office. The day I clog an industrial strength commercial toilet will be the day I light off firecrackers and throw a parade for myself. Yay Fridge!

ENEMY 3 - K-Rock - This stupid dick has been a pain in my ass since I was 2 years old and he was born. True story, when he was 2 and I was 4 he bit me square on the toucas and took out a chunk of flesh. Ever since then, he's basically always been better at sports and more athletic than I have. Whenever I am successful at anything, like having a job and money, he one ups me by winning a National Championship in a manly sport like rugby. In other news, I played tennis in high school. He hits home runs or flies out to left field every at bat during softball games. I generally ground out to the shortstop and then sulk. Luckily, he's a really lousy drunk and probably won't have any long term success or friends.

ENEMY 4 - Starbucks (Non) Rainbow Cookies - Simpleton. That's me. When I buy a cookie called "rainbow," I assume and have come to know from past experience that I am going to have red, blue, green, orange and brown M+M's. Recently, Starbucks started skimping on the first three colors and all of their cookies have been brown and orange M+M-laden. For some reason, these cookies have also been causing the runs . Maybe this is God's way of telling me I'm a fat mess and need to stop eating cookies and drinking lattes every day.

ENEMY 5 - Fenway Park - Tiniest fucking seats ever. Good to know that R Von D's Uncle "Jockey" and extended family are the only people in America that fit in the stupid place. I am not obese or ridiculously tall. I am probably an average sized white male. I cannot possibly be expected to sit in that shithole for a 4 inning game. Awful. If I ever hear the phrase "Lyric Little Bandbox" again, I'm going to hold Peter Gammons hostage. The urinals are trough style in some areas, with no barriers in between. Last time I was at a game it was in April and it was like 45 degrees out and raining. Shrinkage had occurred. But the gentleman using the facilities next to me had no problem looking down at my privates, laughing and barking out "I guess you could call that a dick" at me while I was trying to finish urinating. I went back to my seat in shame and paid $9.50 for another Natural Light disguised as Bud Light. Yum.

ENEMY 6 - Activities Requiring a Steady Hand - Driving, Texting, Pouring from a Pitcher in Public Places. "THIS IS MY NIGHTMARE!" I always make a fool of myself in front of everyone and my only retort is "K-Rock has it worse."

ENEMY 7 - Crowded Bathrooms - I get stage fright. That's my problem. I always try to go for the stall, if it's available. I am usually safe and can get the stream going in there. However, some of my bathroom companions might get confused by a gentleman of my stature taking a standy pee in a stall. I always fear the retribution and ridicule when I step back out through the stall door. Option two is to stand at a urinal for the normal 35-50 seconds, fake like I'm peeing and then walk back to my seat at the bar, restaurant or sporting contest I am attending. I don't want to let the other gents in the bathroom know that I have this horrible, embarassing problem. Even worse, I get back to my seat and I still have to pee like the dickens. I have no idea what my problem is. I was never violated by any authority figures in my life. I don't think I have abnormal bathroom activities compared to any other 26 year old men, though I do enjoy removing all my clothes and taking nice nudy poops on occasion.

ENEMY 8 - The Sun - Damn my pale complexion. I usually get a ridiculous, epic sunburns once a year where I have to bathe in Cocoa Butter and my skin itches for three days. The only known fixes for this are: -drinking a score of Miller Chills and sleeping in an air conditioned hotel room in Virginia Beach -wrapping oneself in swaddling clothes and laying in the den to watch movies and The View at the Dump Lounge -placing a plastic lawn chair in the shallow end of my parents' swimming pool and sitting in the chlorine for an entire day. I think Schonda Schilling is going to assassinate me.

ENEMY 9 - Standard Sized Hats - "Seven and three quarters" have got to be the most depressing four words ever spoken inside of a Lids. Oh, I'm sorry. Did I just ask you to check out a rash on my homeless friend's hamstrings to see if it is potentially communicable through toilet seats and bus stop benches? No. I asked you to move the ladder, climb three steps up, and tell me if the god damned Cincinatti Reds hat is available in my size or not. Frig off.

ENEMY 10 - Uncooperative Karaoke Audiences - I have not only been a victim to this personally, see Kelly Clarkson "Breakaway," but I have also seen two other occasions of horrifyingly unreceptive audiences to two great karaoke performances. RVD's sensual version of "I Need You Tonight" by INXS was met with crickets and whispers of "I wonder if he uses a noose when he pulls on it," by a Grand Buffet crowd one summer evening in Nashua. K-Rock's epic cover of "Magic Man' by Heart was met with boos and projectile vomit by the attendees of the Lea Family Graduation Extravaganza. Perhaps they didn't approve of a karaoke song that featured a seven minute guitar interlude. My major problem with uncooperative audiences is their ease of criticism. If you don't have the ballsac to get up in front of a few friends and a few dozen strangers and let your singing do your talking, then I think you should leave your critical priveleges at the front door. Besides, I'm there to entertain, and I don't take it too seriously...right. Taking it too seriously would involve driving from Exit 4 to Exit 7 in Nashua at 12:35 just because DJ Dougie Tazer might let you sing the last song to close the place down.

Other potential enemies included: President Obama's Assault on the American Dream and Taxpayer, and Predatory Annuity Sales Practices. I figured that my explanations for these would end up coming across in a sobering, conservative and serious tone and those blog entries are better left to my great friend R Von Angry.

With Liberty and Hatred for All,
The Fridge


BONUS ENEMY: Michael Bay Movies - I love to hate them. Transformers 2 was basically a flaming bag of turd. The worst part about Michael Bay movies is the fact that he finds a way to work green flares and slow sweeping low angle camera shots of the hero/heroine into every single movie. The best part about Michael Bay movies is that they usually involve an air conditioned movie theater on a hot summer day and a shitload of popcorn and explosions. And sometimes Megan Fox. I like the way she's put together.

Unoriginality in the "Film" Industry

A few Friday thoughts before your weekend. It's humid as shit again and my balls have been stuck to my leg for 2 days. Ugh. Lucky for you that isn't the topic of today's discussion.
There are too many Seth Rogen movies. I can't even keep them all straight. I'm the kind of douche who quotes movies (of all genres) every five minutes and annoys the crap out of everyone who hasn't seen the film being referenced.
That said, I can't remember for the life of me in which movie Seth Rogen compares the movies "Armaggedon and Deep Impact." Regardless, that quote got me thinking about how many times two movies have come out within a few months of each other and are basically the exact same thing. Here are a few thoughts on such films.


Dante's Peak and Volcano
1. Dante's Peak - James Bond and Sarah Connor save a small town in a red state from an exploding volcano. I think this and Mike Myers' Studio 54 played together on a double feature at a drive in where a mass suicide took place.
2. Volcano - Tommy Lee Jones saves Los Angeles from an underground volcano by using only his crusty old mind and jersey barriers. Little known fact, this movie was originally about ethnic cleansing and TLJ used the jersey barriers to divert the lava into Compton instead of into the Pacific Ocean. Apparently it didn't do well with test audiences.


National Treasure and Knowing
1. National Treasure - Nicholas Cage has a knack for figuring out secrets of American History through archaeology.
2. Knowing - Nicholas Cage has a knack for figuring out secrets of American History AND the future through mathematics. Rumor has it they filmed these movies at the same time, though neither archaeology nor mathematics can explain Nicholas Cage's haircut.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Jack
1. CC of BB - Brad Pitt ages normally, starts as an old man.
2. Jack - Robin Williams ages extra fast, starts as a young boy.
(I realize these movies came out 15 years apart and really have nothing to do with one another, but something smells fishy here. Something ain't right. Someone ripped off someone. Luckily only one of these films had Robin Williams hairy ass knuckles. Ugh, another Seth Rogen reference. That guy is overexposed more than the Dropkick Murphys.)

Paul Blart and Observe and Report
1. Paul Blart: Mall Cop - The King of Queens rides a Segway, hijinks ensue.
2. Observe and Report - Old Friend Seth Rogen somehow gets Anna Faris away from stalking your humble author to film a 90 minute film that is the same thing as Paul Blart minus the Segway but plus an "R" Rating.

The Illusionist and The Prestige
1. Illusionist - Fight Club with Magic.
2. Prestige - Batman Begins with Magic.

Push and Jumper
1. Push - The Human Torch from Fantastic Four now has the ability to do the aadooooooken thing from Street Fighter. And someone made a whole movie out of it.
2. Jumper - Anakin Skywalker apparently has the ability to jump from one place on the planet to another whenever he feels like it. I bet RVD wished he could jump from his cubicle to the bathroom immediately and without effort, but unfortunately he can't and unfortunately this led to an "accident" and him having to trash a pair of undies at work. In other news, these two movies were the film equivalent of a pair of soiled underpants.

Any others I missed? Hit the comment section.

Have a sexy weekend,
Fridge Bo Bandy

Toilet Humor

An interesting thing happened at work today when I went to the restroom around 10:30 to urinate. To set the scene of this restroom, there are 2 sinks, 2 urinals, and then 3 stalls (1 handicapped.) My company leases space on all 4 floors of our building, however we do share the 4th floor with an IT consulting company. Therefore, we share the 4th floor restroom with the "other" company. A few of my coworkers and I have noticed several questionable items from the other company. First, at least a third of "The Others" walk with a limp. Second, another third do not wash their hands after using the john. Third, the last third have an inexplicable need to use the cell phone while in the shared restroom.

Today's incident involved your humble author and one of The Others' cell phone use. I waltzed into the restroom prepared to unleash a large batch of asparagus pee on the second urinal. Much to my chagrin, I was barely able to get the stream going before the sound of business conversation/negotiation was berating my ears from the middle stall. This goon was conducting legitimate business while sitting on the toilet. I am not above talking to K-Rock, RvD, my mother, or even Team Canada while I'm sitting on a private toilet. But even I wouldn't subject strangers in an office setting to listen to my stupid conversations. Especially given the fact that the content of my conversations on the phone these days mostly revolves around whether I'm bringing the correct brand of kitty litter home with me.

Back to the matter of the toilet talker, my evil mind immediately tried to go into hyper-drive trying to think of amusing ways to sabotage this prick's business phone call. If he wanted to disrupt my pee, I was going to find a way to cost him money, business success and most of all, some sense of lifelong happiness. Because of the stench of my own asparagus pee, my mind wasn't functioning at 100% though. I could only come up with two (admittedly weak) ideas.

First, I could let out a loud fart. I had one in queue too. The risk of farting and peeing at the same time while standing at a urinal should not be underestimated. The impact of a good fart can really cause urine to go in unforeseen directions. I know I've tried this on occassion and while I currently have a .600 average, this isn't slow pitch softball...we're talking about getting piss in inappropriate places and theoretically getting piss on me 4 out of 10 times is not kosher.

Second, I could say something inappropriate out loud. Our stone bathroom walls would surely reverberate the sound into his phone (probably bluetooth ear piece) and the party on the other end of the phone would hear my comment and cancel his/her end of the contract they were discussing. There was no one else in the bathroom except for me and Johnnie Deuce. The only thing that came to mind that would be equally inappropriate and amusing was to blurt out "...and that was the first time I got crabs." Pretty weak. Probably would have been raised an eyebrow on behalf of the shitter, but because I had so dissappointed myself, I didn't say anything.

I got back to my desk (after washing my hands) and shared my story with a few co-workers. Here is a quick list (in what I believe is ascending order of awesomeness) of things that I could have done to make the situation in the restroom much more amusing/awkward for our friend in Stall 2:

1. "The Freshman Dorm " - Douse a roll of TP in water and roll under the stall door and between his pant legs
2. "The STD" - Pose the following question out loud..."Does my foreskin still look infected?"
3. "The Jack Bauer" - Yell "I'll waterboard you until you give me the answer I want" and then loudly gurgle some water.
4. "The Wet Bandits" - Stick paper towels in the sinks and turn the faucets on high
5. "The Charley Baileygates" - Get into a fight with my imaginary alter ego and accidentally fall through the stall door
6. "The Noody Poop" - Very aggressively drop trousers and shirt in the stall next to the talking deucer and kick them off of feet.
7. "The Brokeback" - Utilize an iPhone and its' YouTube application, view a certain scene from a certain movie starring Jake Gyllenhall and Heath Ledger.
8. "The Spaulding Smails" - Roll a Snickers into his stall
9. "The Prostate like a Honeydew" - Consistent flushing every twenty seconds of urinal for a consecutive five minutes
10. "The Ray Charles" - Shut the bathroom lights off

Please leave your own ideas in the comments.

Au revoir,
Le Refridgerador

The (Failed) Maturity Chronicles

Loyal reader, you may have heard the horrifying news that I recently took a step into adulthood and moved in with my ladyfriend. RVD and I had a brilliant vision at the time of an on-going blog series called “The Maturity Chronicles,” where I would pontificate on this new lifestyle and share all of the interesting daily comings and goings of living with my new roommate. Putting pen to paper never happened though. I guess the move went too well and nothing overly exciting has gone down during the first 25 days. I started complaining to RVD that there was nothing to write about, but he pointed out that the simplicity factor might be key. Enjoy.

Meow
In the days before my handsome self was brought into her life, my ladyfriend (we’ll call her Miss Canada for now) filled the void of love in her life by purchasing 2 cats, Big Mack and Bean. Apparently the scent of kitty litter and cat food just made her feel complete. I guess I didn’t really comprehend that when I became roommates with Miss Canada, I was also becoming the proud owner of the two feline monsters as well. I have since made peace with this fact, even though I never thought in my life I would clean up cat vomit or “take out the shit” of another species. With respect to the best G-D tv show of all time (Trailer Park Boys), I decided to have a little fun at the cats' expense. A character on the show named Bubbles is a proprietor of the “Super Cats Cat Show” and is also the proud owner of many adorable kitties. Big Mack and Bean are not appropriate names for the vicious creatures that I live with. I have taken to confusing them by now referring to them as one of the following (Bubbles inspired) cat names: Meowenstein, Shit Rock, Steve French, Vince the Pince. These inquisitive little nightmares have also become interested in my bathroom activities. My new favorite pastime is throwing magazines at the paw that sneaks under the bathroom door while I'm sitting on the John. Last week, I even sat for a good 15 minute session with the bathroom door open, just to see if they would approach. The look of shame/fear on my face must have led them away, because they pawed at the door frame and scampered away. I stink and have too much time on my hands.

Clog
It was inevitable. The clogging of the one toilet in our apartment was going to happen at some point, but I didn’t think it would happen six days into our lease. My time at the River St Sex Club included heavy indulgence in cheap American ale, chicken wings and burritos. In those years, I perfected the art of the plunge and should probably be teaching classes on how to un-clog toilets. So two weeks ago on a Saturday, I made the Executive Decision (see a movie) to walk out of the bathroom with the plunger in one hand and a sad and confused look on my face. “You officially now live with a gentleman.” “What’d you do?” You get the idea how that conversation went. When I started laughing halfway through and told her I would fix it but that this might be a weekly occurrence, she asked if our lease was still negotiable or not. I’m not sure if the land-lord ever got back to her. F my A.

Yoga + The Hangover
Miss Canada’s suggestion that I try out yoga was well taken at the time. I will not deny that I need to work on my flexibility and stretching. A nice quiet hour on Sunday morning with some soothing music and 15 complete strangers seemed like a good idea on the Tuesday that I agreed to go. Saturday afternoon, I started to have my doubts. I don’t like being the new guy at places. I don’t own a yoga mat. I really feel like sleeping in and watching SportsCenter three times on Sunday. You get the idea. So Saturday evening I put my plan into place. If I could get Miss Canada drunk enough, she’d be hungover on Sunday morning and want to skip class. We were at a Red Sox game that night – so the draft beer was flowing well and she fell into my trap. Every suggestion of “one more” was accepted. The Sox won the game, and I won at my game. Sunday morning rolled around and I heard someone mumble “let’s just skip it this week.” VICTORY!


Please note, dear reader, that these stories certainly are on a different scale than the days of old. I do miss my old roommates but I have a growing appreciation for the new lifestyle. Especially if it involves shitting with the door open, which I have never done before. Nice.

Honorably,
The Fridge

Fridge's Brain Diarrhea

I'm here to follow up Senor Von D's Brain Droppings with some Brain Diarrhea. I just have a lot of feelings (inside Mean Girls joke.)

-I read a statistic on the internet today, so it must be true. 73 current National Football League players have a DUI on their driving record. I think the only industries where this ratio is higher are probably the Arena Football League or MBTA operators.
-Has anyone else noticed that all of the music that MLB Network uses during their commercials or highlight packages is that weird pop-rock music that probably started on WBCN but ended up on Kiss 108? Blink 182. Taking Back Sunday. The Offspring. Sum 41. The Ataris. All-American Rejects. You get the idea.
-Speaking of music, I still like the Paris Hilton epic ballad "Stars are Blind." Seriously. Listen to this song and pretend it isn't sung by Paris Hilton and I bet you'll enjoy it. That or watch the music video and have the knowledge that you and I scab it up to the same material. Wink.
-People like Cal Ripken, Lance Armstrong, Jon Lester and Zack Greinke are probably inspirational to most people. They just make me feel bad about myself.
-Every evening on Baseball Tonight, I have to hear about the "unwritten rules" of Major League Baseball whenever someone gets hit by a pitch. I wonder if anyone else at my place of employment ever thinks about the "unwritten rules" of the office. Here's a quick rundown: do not take standy pees in the stalls, do not bring up my karaoke in front of management types, do not view my facebook pictures at your desk during working business hours, don't steal my parking space even if you are there before me, don't steal my activia digestive assistance yogurt out of the refridgerator, and certainly do not point out my carbon footprint to coworkers when i am printing off 15 pages from si.com to take to the bathroom with me for quality time.
-I think Google Latitude might be (at the same time) the single greatest and worst innovation of the new millenium. The fact that I can track my tech-conscious friends' movements through their Blackberry phones and a simple web application makes me so happy. However, the possibility that some douche from a ritzy Metro West suburb will now be caught on his (previously secret) bi-annual shemale fiesta to southeast Asia when he says he is at Red Sox Spring Training should really lead to some interesting life conversations between husband and wife.
-My mini-review of Terminator Salvation: The film equivalent of getting a lapdance from a talkative but wildly attractive stripper who has a speech impediment. If you somehow snuck ear plugs into the "session," you are going to leave happy. But if you are forced to listen to what they have to say, it probably was 5 hours' pay poorly spent.

Enjoy,
Der Fridgessar


PS - RvD and I will be bringing our updated Bucket Lists to the masses of our readership within the next few weeks. Keep your eyes and private parts peeled.

Under-Reported News Topics of the Past 15 Years

Good evening friend,

I was thinking recently about how far down the standard of greatness in journalism has fallen. Woody Paige and Jay Mariotti are the type of sportswriter that the American newspaper has to offer? Yuck. Is Keith Olbermann or Sean Hannity remotely qualified to guide the public discourse on politics? Blah.

"The News" has become a business instead of something to truly interest us of late. And I believe that in the process, some of the following stories have gone under-reported. I had originally prepared a gentlemanly even list of 5 topics, but as I've deprived the world of my glorious thoughts for several months, I figured I'd even give you a bonus item! EN-JOY!

1. Terrell Owens Really Tried to Kill Himself

This superstar athlete overdosed on a lethal dose of a prescription painkilling medication. I know if I had a bottle of something called "Hydrocodone" that I wouldn't treat them like they were M+Ms. We all remember his redemption story two weeks later and his publicist bragging about the size of Terrell's "contract." But somehow the fact that one of the biggest names in sports actually was so sad that he tried to end it all went away quickly, which makes me sad. I believe the word is schadenfraude.

2. George Steinbrenner Directly Financed the Hit on Nancy Kerrigan

In the mid 1990s, apparently Big Stein developed an interest in the US Olympic program. He donated some money to some of the lesser and unsponsored talents in events like swimming and ice skating. One of the young porn stars/athletes to whom George gave money was Tonya Harding. Ergo, George Steinbrenner paid for the pipe that Gilooley used to smash up the knee of Massachusetts' own Nancy Kerrigan. Perhaps Nancy wore a Sox hat to skating practice one day and George was unpleased with this.

3. Richard Jewell Did Not Bomb the 1996 Atlanta Olympics

In fact, this portly recluse was a volunteer during the Olympics and probably saved lives. He was not guilty of anything other than warning people to move away from what he suspected was a backpack not full of books. So no, that face that was all over the news for six months and kinda looked like a fat Kevin Youkilis did not try to ruin the Summer Games.

4. K-Rock is a National Champion of College Athletics

Local Rugby team in Plymouth, NH competed in and won the Division III National Championship in the Spring of 2008. Local celebrities K-Rock and Hambone were contributing and senior members of this team. How this was not national news is beyond the Pen 15 Club's belief.

5. Nomar Garciaparra was NOT Implicated in the Mitchell Report:

(see above photo)

6. "Paul Blart: Mall Cop" Was the Number One Movie in America for TWO Consecutive Weeks

Interesting to see how far the cinematic standard has fallen in this country that this turd could rule the box office for not one but two weeks. I guess the movie industry might as well just give up to the Buzzsaw that is Kevin James.

Fear not loyal reader. In the coming weeks and months, I will be re-dedicated to providing you with reading to distract you from your dull lives.

Please think of the environment and print 50 copies of this blog post and douse them all with gasoline and set on fire in a crowded and already polluted South American city slum while driving a gas-guzzling SUV and not recycling your Poland Springs water bottle.

XOXO

The Fridge

The Hangover Cure: An American Necessity

Sitting here on "The greatest Sunday in the history of Sundays," RvD and I have had a little discussion on hangovers. Most notably, the fact that I have not had one either of the past two Sundays. As the weather has become more "Big-Bob Friendly" according to Fussy Joe, I've noticed my enjoyment of drinking increasing. Last Saturday was the end of Josephest, and I started drinking delicious Busch Lights at around 1:30. I watched Demolition Man, Talladega Nights and played about three hours of Rock Band....all before the sun went down. We went to a karaoke bar in the evening, and around approximately hour 15 of drinking a new karaoke experience was born. My evil twin, Joe's buddy Orlando, apparently has the same taste for Budweiser fueled singing in front of a room of strange folks. R Von D, Fridge and Orlando karaoke will henceforth be known as DFO Speedwagon. RVD and I did several shots to celebrate how good we were at singing. I drank for about 12.5 hours and really thought I was doomed on Sunday morning. Woke up around 10AM and felt like $1,000,001. I actually felt GOOD.

Anywho, yesterday I walked to a local BBQ celebrating the end of my work's softball team season. I brought a 12 pack with me, figuring this would be an easy kind of night that I would only need 12 beers for and then I'd come home around midnight. Instead, I finished my backpack of beers by 10 and started drinking from the keg. I convinced 3 of my coworker pals that it would be a good idea to sneak out of the party and head down to a local watering hole. At this point I had consumed around 16 beers total, I believe. Once arriving at the Skellig, we ran into RvD and Fussy Joe. RVD and I had a heated exchange with some personal insults being hurled towards one another. (He forgot to take his crazy pills and I was being hurtful and intoxicated.) He pushed me and I accidentally bumped into a woman of small stature.

Bouncer (to Ryan): "You need to go now."
Baron Von D (to Bouncer): "I know."

Joe and I had a good chuckle at Von D's expense and thought about how much he must have been fuming on that lonely walk home. We did a celebratory shot. This put me at (best estimate) 18 beers and 2 shots as my total consumption for the evening. I took a cab to my ladyfriend's house after leaving The Skellig and slept there (I'm sure she was thrilled with my decision to show up at 1:30am smelling like stale beer and bbq food.) I didn't want Ron Von Don smothering me in my sleep. I woke up at 8:30 this morning without even a hint of a headache. I was as amazed as you are, loyal reader. I had two orange cream popsicles for breakfast and had ladyfriend stop at Starbucks so I could get some caffeine into my system.

The moral of these stories is that I for some reason have recently become completely immune to hangovers. Everybody has their own! I generally don't value anyone's opinion but my own. Today, we'll be exploring some of my close pals' own personal hangover cures.

1. MKenn
-1/2 tin of Grizzly Straight
-Rye and Ginger
-The Outdoors
-Black People Music

2. R von D
-Gatorade
-Video Games
-Anna's Taqueria
-Acute Anxiety Medication
-Being left alone

3. Duchess von D
-Pizza
-Advil

4. Gregoire
-5 mile run or 25 mile bike ride

5. Ladyfriend
-As much ice cold non-fat milk as humanly possible

6. Fussy Joe
-"The Grease"

For the longest time, I was the hangover king of the world. I used to feel so horrible after an evening of tough drinking that I would make the people around me suffer too. Even if they were strangers that I walked by in a gas station. My hangover cures used to depend on the situation I was in. If I was on a long car ride home from Connecticut or Plymouth I would usually get at least one Monster Energy Drink and put my window down regardless of the weather. Fresh air was the key component. I would rather freeze my tits off and end up with a chapped face than be overhung when I got home to my parents house and had to face their disappointment, disgust, and shame. Back in those good old days when I used to get hangovers and I didn't have a long drive ahead of me, I used to retreat to my bedroom, watch at least 2 Star Wars movies, drink gallons of water and try to overdose on multi-vitamins.

Bottom line is that we all clearly are borderline problem drinkers in that we've had enough opportunities to develop our own personal cures for hangovers. I suggest you all either copy my lifestyle exactly so that you no longer have those rough mornings or enroll in "the program" to get your life straight.

Dig,
Fridge III, Esq

Vote RvD + Fridge in '08

"We are not here to be your leaders. We are not here to be your role models. We are here as your cultural and emotional assassins. Every 'scene' you try so hard to be a part of. Every 'cause' that you get involved in. We are here to bring them down and to point out flaws in everyone, including ourselves. We intend to run a campaign based on brutal and horrific honesty. Do we think all ugly women should be forced to work in the stock rooms of grocery stores, hidden from all of society? Not if they have a decent rack, we don't. This isn't the kind of campaign you are going to get from any of those other 3 candidates. Toeing any party lines is not something that your humble writers are interested in. We are the Pen 15 Brigade, and we've reported for duty."



Give'er,
Los Hermanos Fantasticos (R Von D & Fridge)

I Traveled 3000 Miles For This?

Spring 2007

My former college roommate, Mike, was now living in Chicago and I hadn't had any debaucherous activity with him in almost 2 years. We decided that a trip to Phoenix, AZ to catch the Red Sox play the DBacks was a wise plan of attack, as we had clearly won our battles with the East Coast and Doon had staked a strong claim in the Midwest. 2 of Mike's high school buddies, Matt and Craig were up for a vacation as well. And so it was settled, Friday June 7^th we would all fly to Phoenix. Matt, Craig and I would fly from Logan Int'l in Boston and Mike would depart from Chicago. We settled all of our reservations in early April and the anticipation mounted for a few months.

June 7 2007

5:45 AM (EST): Three chubby white men boisterously make their way through the Air Tran Airways security checkpoint at Logan. We are all dressed appropriately for an early summer's morning. Jeans and hooded sweatshirts as it is before 6AM. This was to be my first flight since I was approximately 7 years old and take note that I had refused to go on several vacations in previous years because of a fear of flying after 9/11. Obviously, I ended up with the seat across the aisle from Matt and Craig. During take-off, I think I legitimately reached for Matt's hand twice across the aisle for comfort. A relatively uneventful 90 minute flight to Atlanta ensued. I think it was the free XM radio featuring an entire station of Kelly Clarkson hits that saved me from a panic attack.

9:00AM (EST): Do not ever ask for Pepsi products anywhere in Georgia. Someone pulled out an Uzi on me just for seeking out Mt. Dew. The headquarters of Coca Cola is somewhere near ATL and they are all real homers down there. We boarded a new Air Tran flight, now bound for Phoenix. By this point we (note, college educated adults in their 20s) had realized that we could make transvestite jokes out of the name of our airline. This became exponentially more amusing when something that resembled Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs boarded our flight. I would spend the next 3 hours staring out the window to avoid eye contact with the it sitting 3 rows away. (Note: If you keep in mind the fact that we were in an air conditioned airplane then airport for the entire duration after our exit from New England, the next part of this story will be funnier.)

9:00AM (PST): "Folks, we'll be touching down at Phoenix's Sky Harbor International Airport in about ten minutes. The time is currently 9AM Pacific Standard Time, the sky is clear and it's a gorgeous summer morning. It's currently about 105 degrees and we thank you for flying Air Tran Airways." Oh no.

9:30AM (PST): Matt, Craig and I found Mike in the airport, as he had arrived a few minutes ahead of us from Chicago. We stepped outdoors, started sweating profusely, and hailed a taxi van as quickly as possible.

10:45AM (PST): After checking into our hotel in downtown Phoenix, we realized that it was actually more like 2 in the afternoon back east. We needed to feed. Being newcomers to the West Coast, we sought out the closest In 'N Out Burger. Unfortunately, it was 20 minutes away in Tempe. We took a $60 round trip cab to Tempe just to eat 3 cheeseburgers (4x4 animal style.) During our return to Phoenix, we saw billboards galore for something called "Miller Chill." It was clearly a Miller Brewing Company product, but it was being advertised with a Mexican theme. This needed to be investigated further. After arriving back at our hotel, we set out on foot (AWFUL IDEA IN 110 DEGREE HEAT) to hunt down Miller Chill. We brought beverages back to our hotel and started saucing up. To our great bewilderment and surprise, Miller Chill was the cerveza of the gods.

6:30PM (PST): We stumbled towards Bank One Ballpark. We watched the Sox smoke the DBacks. Uneventful part number 1 of trip. We sat in a luxury club suite section where Long Island Iced Tea quickly became the drink of choice.

10:30PM (PST): We found a cab after game. "Take us to the finest Gentlemen's Establishment within your city limits." Somehow, we failed to realize that Phoenix's city limits are about 2000 square miles wide. Our second expensive cab ride of the day later, we were located at Phoenix's lovely BOURBON STREET CIRCUS. Just the name of this place was awesome. As an experienced customer of gentlemen's establishments, I can easily say that this place had the cleanest and least creepy restrooms I'd ever used. It actually had those old-school saloon doors to get inside. An un-named member of our party actually did a Pac-Man Jones impersonation and made it rain onto the stage.

June 8 2007

2:00AM (PST): Sleep.

8:00AM (PST): Wake up and watch Sportscenter on loop for 2.5 hours in hotel room.

11:00AM (PST): Mike, Matt and I decide it's time to get started. We leave Craig alone in hotel room rubbing on himself. We found a lovely Mexican place called "los hermanos." Nothing like a tall, cool Budweiser at 11am to get you feeling a little sad about yourself. Matt reminded Matt and I that it was well after 12 noon where we were really from. This time zone business really fouls up your feelings of self-worth. After a few hours spent at "los hermanos" and your humble author feeling confused about not being able to find any $1 bills in his wallet, we set out back for the hotel.

2:15PM (PST): Your confused and slightly hungover/drunk author realizes his cell phone is conspicuous by its absence. Matt remembers seeing me place it down on a table during a "dance" the previous night. Luckily, I had several ATM receipts in my wallet from the Bourbon Street Circus, so it wasn't tough to find the phone number. One easy phone call later, I knew that the proprietor of the Circus was going to hold onto my phone for the afternoon if I would like to retrieve it. I took a lonely $40 cab ride outside of my comfort zone and entered a strip club by myself and while it was sunny out. Yuch. At least I had my phone back and wouldn't have to explain that one to anyone when I got home.

4:00PM (PST) The Four Horsemen decided to hit the hotel pool for a quick dip and cool off. Unfortunately, we found that every other awful Red Sox fan at our hotel had the same idea. I actually heard arguments debating whether WAAF or WBCN was a better station. We also found out that residents of Revere and Everett do not enjoy each others' company and are willing to do cannonballs into the pool to prove that they are tougher than one another. This basically looked like the parking lot at Gilette Stadium before a pre-season Patriots game where you get those weirdo fans who can't afford regular season tickets, but there was a pool in the middle. It was awful and I apologize to Hyatt Regency Hotels' staff for being a willing and active part of it.

7:00PM (PST) We again stumble into Bank One Ballpark. Spend 9 innings sitting right behind the DBacks bullpen harassing their middle relief. Uneventful part number 2 of the trip.

10:00PM (PST) Mike had done some recon on the Phoenix area before the trip and found a karaoke bar for us to visit. I brought the house down with an epic rendition of Justin Timberlake's "Cry Me A River" and such Karaoke Revue staples as "Just a Gigolo" and "Mack the Knife." You'd be surprised how much the residents of Arizona appreciate Diamond David Lee Roth as performed by el Fridgerino. Our associate Matt stepped outside to vomit into the bushes and with this we were informed by the staff that closing time was at 1:30.

June 9 2007

1:15AM (PST): Matt and I decided we needed some food. We left Mike and Craig behind at the bar with two large women in their late thirties. We walked through a drive-through of a taco place and ate our food walking back down the street towards the bar. We heard a strange noise come out of some sagebrush on the side of the road. I couldn't tell if it was a human-sized scorpion or a 60 foot long rattle snake. In a move reminiscent of Ron Von Don on the streets of Hartford…all in one motion I hailed a cab, opened the door and threw Matt into the backseat to get away from the mutated creatures that stalk white boys on the mean streets of outer Phoenix. We got back next to the bar and we informed our chauffer that we had 2 more riders. Craig happily joined us in the cab while Mike spent 10 minutes entertaining the thought of spending the night with his new ladyfriends in Mesa, AZ. (Mapquest it, he would have been 45 miles away from Phoenix, moron.) I started pleading with the driver to leave him in the parking lot, telling Craig and Matt that Mike would "pay for this decision," but those two (being more loyal friends) made sure that we didn't leave him. Even screaming "don't go home with those fat c's" out the window of the cab couldn't make his mind up. It wasn't until one of us yelled something about the ladies being part of the Arizona Cardinals offensive line that Mike was convinced to rejoin us.

2:00AM (PST): Sleep.

10:00AM (PST): I get pulled out of security line for trying to sneak a Randy Johnson bobblehead onto the plane. Apparently having a pock marked pit faced doll with you on an airplane is now a federal offense.

4:00PM (EST): We arrive in friendly Atlanta again. This time, we do not order any Pepsi products.

10:00PM (EST): I arrive home in Nashua. Sunburned, tired and still confused where all my $1 bills are.

Fridge's Five Stages of Work Related Anger

I have a very nice job. I work at a solid, respected company and have my own cubicle. By no means am I miserable like Dana Complaina. In fact, I tried to get Miss C a job at my company. I don't know what went wrong, she probably brought her negative attitude into the interview and screwed it all up. The point of my writings this evening is to tell you, dear reader, about my five stages of anger that I express during the average work day. I have a kickass iPod boombox on my desk at work and over 4000 songs to choose from, and I could just use multisyllabic words (like RVD would) to describe my hate and disgust. Instead, I'm going to let you imagine my demeanor based on my musical selections at each of these five stages.


DEFCON 5 - 311/Incubus
Here, I'm still at the point where I think that music with positive vibes can cure me. One of my coworkers has generally asked me a repeated question that I explained to he or she (probably a she) at least twelve times before. Perhaps my GChat isn't working so I can't communicate with Ron Von Don and Dana Complaina. Most mornings bring some bad news though...Hillary Clinton still allowed in public without a muzzle, the Red Sox signing an obese Bartolo Colon, the Celtics signing an alien looking Sam Cassell, or me getting poked inappropriately by one of K-Rock's idiot PSU friends on facebook. Oh well, maybe things are looking up.

DEFCON 4 - TOOL/Smashing Pumpkins
I've passed the point where music can positively effect me. I'm at the stage where I need to tap my feet to the beat of a song or else my foot is going into the back of someone's head when they are stupidly staring at their computer without being able to comprehend the work in front of them. The general creepiness of Maynard J Keenan and Billy Corgan amuse me to the point where I (unfortunately) probably still seem approachable to people at the office. I guess subconsciously I'm listening to 7th grade rock because I had no responsibility then, and wish it was the same now. Someone please stab me with a letter opener.

DEFCON 3 - Iron Maiden
More than likely, sweat is beading up on my forehead because I've realized that I have at least six more hours of this douchebaggery to deal with. It's two hours into the work day and the best conversation my cube mates can come up with is to discuss the congestion on Rtes 128 and 90 that morning. People should only be allowed to complain about things that they can't control...like "Wow, that Condi Rice still won't give me the time of day, even with the naked pictures I sent her,"... perfectly acceptable. But choosing to live 40 miles away from your office and complaining that it took you two hours to get to work will henceforth be met with a very, very dirty look from two angry eyes in my bald head. I find that "Number of the Beast" gets me through the 10am hour fairly well due to the fact that I can pretend I'm playing Guitar Hero.

DEFCON 2 - Kelly Clarkson
All I want is to be left alone. I can see lunch coming, but I know my phone is going to ring and that stupid Outlook email preview window is going to pop up at least twice before I can feed. Miss Independent is my only hope at this point. The topic of conversation has moved from traffic to the weather now. Everyone has also mentioned at least twice that they have headaches and are really tired. Hearing KC's voice and picturing her hazel eyes is my only hope to make it to lunch without committing a homicide.

DEFCON 1 - Daughtry
I get back from lunch and find out that no one has quit, my phone has voicemails and my computer still works. Power buttrock ballads are my only hope for 3 more hours of work. This music really gives me a chance to meditate on the real struggles of other middle class catholic straight caucasians. Maybe I don't have it so bad. After all, I could be a high school Latin teacher.

Cheers,
William Perry

The Revue's Hatred for K-Rock

As you may know, myself and Ron Von Don (right and left in photo above) are really the bread and butter of the Pen15 blog. My younger brother, K-Rock, on occasion has contributed. We have felt compelled to allow his writings to let our readership see a younger, less-mature point of view, and also so he won't smother me with a pillow in my sleep. RvD and I have decided today to let our true feelings towards this fat idiot fly.

We leave you for the weekend with a laundry list of reasons we dislike the aforementioned K-Rock.

1. Watches the Music Choice channel (just audio, no videos) for hours on end. Has slowly started to memorize the "fun facts" about people like T-Pain, Young Chris, Young Joc, and Young Jeezy that their own families are not aware of.
2. Cannot keep his eyes open once he passes the 20 beer threshold, but is still conscious and willing to outdrink you.
3. Hates R von D for no reason other than he is smarter and more well-refined.
4. Sits down whilst playing Guitar Hero.
5. Has a tendency for vomiting off of the back deck at our parents' house in the middle of dinner.
6. Can manage to dip while passed out.
7. Is not attracted to women.
8. Did not appreciate sexual advances from Dana Complaina (see No. 7)
9. Is a walking contradiction insofar as he will be a law enforcement agent in the next 12 months.
10. Is attracted to Scorpion Drink.
11. Thought Jar Jar Binks was a "dynamite addition" to the Star Wars franchise.
12. Voted for Ron Paul.
13. Is a Communist (see No. 12)
14. Refuses to run during softball games.
15. Does not adequately track fly balls (see No 14.)
16. Refers to Vincent Chase as "my favorite character on that show."
17. Will be armed with a government issued weapon within the next 12 months (see No. 9)
18. Uses all the hot water at our parents' house without concern for others' desire to not freeze in the shower.
19. Sucks at karaoke really really bad.
20. Once bought us Budweiser Energy drinks.

Thank you for your time,
Los Hermanos Miserables

Guidelines For Any Professional Man of Leisure

As permanent fixtures of the bar scene, we at the Pen 15 Club fancy ourselves Godfathers of all things leisurely. From our collective intellect, to our high daily caloric intake, to the amount of men's magazines read on the john, we are unmatched in nearly every arena. And so, we wish to impart upon you people a few guidelines for any man looking to become a professional man of leisure.


- If you are going to make less money than your female spouse, only these positions are acceptable: Teacher, video game tester, bartender, police officer.

- If you have a hi-definition television, you are obligated to host Sunday afternoon/evening get-togethers for sporting events.

- Disney movies, romantic comedies, and "The Notebook" are only acceptable for viewing if coitus is provided after said movie.

- It is socially acceptable to pop cedar when making out with or slow dancing with a young woman.

- Misogynistic jokes and jokes about handicapped people are always socially acceptable.

- It is a social faux pas for a group of men to get together for a soccer game.

- Whether in billiards, darts, video games, or wiffle ball; winner stays, loser pays.

- When seated at a table for dinner, it is customary to ask people to pass condiments...unless that condiment is Frank's Red Hot. In the case of Franks, one must simply grunt, reach across the table, and use half the bottle for a single chicken breast.

- When watching Caddyshack, it is polite to quote as much of the movie aloud as possible whether in mixed company or alone.

- When one gentleman buys another a 7+7, he expects one in return.

- When one gentleman buys a group of gentlemen a pitcher of Scorpion Drink, he expects some suckling assistance on the other straws.

- When one gentleman uses a public rest facility, he is expected to double flush to prevent staining of the bowl.

- You are also obligated to leave a space of one urinal between men. If there isn't a space, you use the stall, if the stall is in use, you wait.

- It is perfectly acceptable in a social setting to eat a chicken wing in a single bite.

- The video game "Guitar Hero" must be played standing up, no exceptions.

Monday Night Raw + Mohegan Sun = Heaven on Earth

Monday, January 7I took a half day from work and headed towards Uncasville, CT at approximately 2pm. A quick 90 minute shot down the Pike and 395 and I was parked in the Summer Garage on the Mohegan Reservation. I met up with my associates Big Ron (of Winnepasaukee fame), Tuba, Little Tuba, Pete and Crouch. To say we were a motley looking crue would be an understatement. Cowboy hats, WWE t-shirts, ill-fitting black shirts on Big Ron, etc. To say we felt out of place at Mohegan Sun on a Monday afternoon at 4pm would also be an understatement, as we weren’t smoking butts, Asian or a member of the AARP.

We decided that our first mission would be to get our feed on. We found a $20 all-you-can-eat buffet near the Casino of the Sky. The fact that the gross weight of the five of us was approximately 1200 lbs led to concern and fear on behalf of the staff at this buffet. We harvested all the foodstuffs we could for approximately 45 minutes and at one point I think Big Ron actually could have been considered “sweaty” care of how hard he was working on finishing his fifth plate of hard boiled eggs and pork fried rice.

Mission two was to steal back some winnings from the money-grubbing Native Americans who had gouged all of us on previous occasions. Big Ron and Pete found their luck at a blackjack table featuring a dealer named Xin. I do not know if he/she was a male or female, nor do I know how to pronounce that name. Tuba rocked a roulette table next to a man drinking straight Johnny Walker for about 45 minutes. I, being unable to take the up and down of all this betting, decided I would place only one bet. I lost $40 on one spin of the roulette wheel. Somehow I don’t think that was worth 2 hours of working.

We left the Casino at about 645pm because we thought Monday Night Raw had an early start this evening and that we needed to be at our 3rd row seats on the floor by 7pm. Unfortunately, we were confused about the start time and ended up being those 6 fat guys smushed into seats an hour before there’s anything going on in the arena. While we were a little tight in our seats, I can guarantee you that I was the happiest little boy in the Mohegan Sun Arena and that everyone in our general vicinity was wildly amused by our antics all evening. Yelling “you’re fired” in the Vince McMahon voice for 45 minutes before the wrestling actually began really kept the toothless wonders sitting around us in stitches.

Some highlights from the show included:
A lingerie pillow fight between 5 WWE Divas.
Fridge making “the stroke face” at Good Ole’ JR (he had a stroke a few years ago.)
Big Ron taking pictures of the thong that the girl in the row in front of us was wearing.
Pete and I cheering for every heel (look it up.)
Tuba’s “I Heart HBK” theme for the evening.
The fact that there’s a wrestler named Mr. Kennedy.
A Hacksaw Jim Duggan sighting. Hooooooo.
Spotted sign in the crowd: “EVERYONE HERE IS A JOKE.”
Spotted sign in the crowd: “UMAGA EATS BABIES.”
Spotted sign in the crowd: “HARDY IS 1#”
Big Ron jumping up like a little girl everytime the pyrotechnics went off.
Chris Jericho almost getting lynched.
The uber-homosexual Jeff Hardy dropping a “Whisper in the Wind” off of the top of a cage

I can honestly say that I’ve never had as much fun in an arena (save for UConn hoops games at Gampel) as I did that night at Mohegan Sun. I felt like I was six years old watching old school WWF but this time I was fifteen feet from the ring. I would heavily suggest that everyone attend a live televised wrestling event as soon as humanly possible. Not only will you come away amused, but due to the intelligence level of the rest of the crowd, your self esteem level will be at an all time high. And even though the Native Americans took about $100 of my money, white folks kicked their ass hundreds of years ago and they’re relegated to reservations. HA!

Hard Justice: Pen 15 Style

Roon Voon Doon and I have decided that the justice system in the world today has gone haywire. The punishment no longer fits the crime. Having seen on Court TV that a Saudi Arabian woman was given 200 lashes and 6 months in prison for being in the company of men in public, we decided that it's time to offer up our own system of justice. The following crimes befit the following punishments:

1. Shoplifting - 30 Minutes of Indian Sunburn on your favored arm

2. Drug Possession - A stern talking to from your grandmother

3. Public Intoxication - Must go shot for shot with K-Rock for an entire weekend at Plymouth State University

4. Beastiality - Have to watch your mother get undressed and dressed again

5. Kiddie Porn - Forced to re-enact 2 Girls, 1 Cup with Rosie O'Donnell

6. Unpaid Parking Tickets - Unexpected noogie priveleges for your entire group of friends

7. Unpaid Child Support - Must stare at naked pictures of Meryl Streep for 3 years

8. Counterfeit Money - You're only allowed to get with unhappy, controlling women the rest of your life (aka the RBoosk Law.) Also, can no longer eat at Haagen-Dazs.

9. Sex with 17 Year Old
a) Male Adult on Minor Male: Death
b) Female Adult on Minor Female: $600 Gift Certificate to Best Buy (must only be used in Videocamera section)
c) Female Adult on Minor Male: High-Five and a Lottery Ticket (must split winnings on lotto ticket with police)
d) Male Adult on Minor Female: Pizza Party

10. Retransmitting a Major League Baseball Game without the Expressed Written Consent of Major League Baseball Commissioner's Office - Code Red (see: A Few Good Men)

Thank you for your time,
Los Hermanos Fantasticos

2 Girls, 1 Fridge

The Sun UK is reporting that Britney Spears is threatening to release a lesbian sex tape starring Paris Hilton. Now, I'm the type of person who has seen maybe one too many pictures of both of these broads' snizzes. However, my main squeeze the Fridge thinks otherwise. You see, for as long as they have been on the television, Fridge has been enamored with everything that has to do with high-priced Hollywood whores.

R Von D: The people who read our little site should know that you are our connoisseur regarding porn and vaginas that look like stacks of deli meat. What do you look forward to most should this tape be released?

Fridge: The one man premiere party held here in my apartment. Candles, a dark screening room and silk pajamas. I'm good.

RVD: If you were a betting man, who came away with more new diseases after this little escapade?

Fridge: The mixture of their bodily fluids probably created a new superdisease known as "The Rage." This may or may not have been predicted by that movie 28 Days Later. Don't get it near your eyes or mouth.

R Von D: Say you are lucky enough to have been the meat in a Paris and Britney sandwich, who do you think would have the better performance? As a follow up, what would you have them do?

Fridge: They should fight to the death. Winner gets cocktails and dick.

R Von D: So you get the best of both worlds here: A porker who used to be the hottest girl in the world, and a girl who used to be the biggest whore on the planet trying to clean up her act. What is more appealing to you in this day and age? The fallen or the reinvented?

Fridge: I'm a big believer in redemption. But I feel like Paris is due to fall off the wagon into a sea of penis in the near future and I want to be coming in with the tide. (That's what she said.)

R Von D: Paris and Brit Brit are about to do the dirty-dirty. You get to see them use one food item on each other, what do you choose?

Fridge: Bucket of KFC. Paris needs a little meat on her bones and Britney gets grumpy when she consumes under 10,000 calories.

R Von D: If you had to title this movie, what would you call it?

Fridge: 'Two Girls, One Fridge"

R Von D: What advice would you give to any young Hollywood starlet who is thinking about shooting her own adult film?

Fridge: More "POV" shots.

R Von D: What is a POV shot?

Fridge: It's like first-person porn where you don't seen the dudes face and he doesn't say anything the whole time. It's much easier for me at that point to pretend it's me givin' it to Lohan or Barbara Walters.

R Von D: Barbara Walters, huh?

Fridge: Shut up, you fat idiot.


Joyous Yuletide,
Los Hermanos Fantasticos (Fridge and R Von D)

Romance Advice Care of Your Local Bloggers

Since the C has gone missing in action for the past couple of hours, and we haven’t given our readers much new material in the past few days, Ron Von and I cooked up some answers to a few of the romance questions that have flooded our inbox over the past few weeks. Enjoy.

Dear Pen 15,
I dated this really handsome chap for about 6 weeks this summer. All of a sudden, he broke up with me for what seemed like no reason. What do I do to win him back?

RvD: You should probably lay off the cry-juice and be a Bruin. Also, you sound like the type of girl who needs a man in her life to qualify her own happiness. If this is the case, you should either check the Fridge out on Yahoo personals, or drink bleach....take a lap

Dear Pen15,
My girlfriend and I have been dating for over a year now. Lately, it hurts me when I pee and my semen smells like feet. Is she cheating on me?

Fridge: No, she is just gross and has never heard of Summer's Eve. Buy her a 12pack of those and ask her to clean herself up.

RvD: Yeah, she's either baking bread or you have the clap...better get some penicillin in your penis-be-illin'.

Dear Pen15,
What should be my course of action if it turns out that all of the dudes that my new girlfriend is friends with obviously despise my existence?

RvD: This is a great question. Here's what I would do. You get in on a prank that they are pulling on her so you become one of them, no matter how mean it is. That way, if she breaks up with you for being a dick, you just made a couple new homies to play Halo 3 or have a circle-jerk with.

Dear Pen15,
I'm a 24 year old female who has spent the better part of the past decade messing with guys' minds. What could I possibly do to get back in the good graces of kind boys like Ron Von and Fridgerino?

RvD: Eiffel Tower....next.

Dear Pen15,
I'm dating a girl who is far too wealthy, far too pretty, and far to smart for me. How do I deal with the fact that I am obviously living a complete lie?

Fridge: Step 1 - Start stealing money from her wallet

Step 2 - Make her eat foods that will make her gain weight. I would suggest starting at Bickfords each day, two mid afternoon snacks at Taco Bell and finish up with dinner at Dairy Queen. They have really horrible cheeseburgers, and you're already there for dessert.

Step 3 - Start making her watch such Pen15 favorites as "Joe Dirt", "Benchwarmers", "South Park", and "Grandma's Boy."

In no time, you two will be on the same plane (financially, looks, smarts) and things will work out perfectly. And also, please feel free to eat a bullet before you start this plan so that I can have a chance with this bird.

Dear Pen15,
Are either of you guys available? Are K-Rock and Hambone single?

Fridge: I'm available if you don’t have a need for footwear in crowded karaoke bars, are under 35, don’t like hot tubs, do like burritos, are not offended by the C word and live by the phrase “the more, the merrier.”

RvD: I'm single if you have a boyfriend who you will cheat on with me.

RvD: K-Rock is single if you have dip

RvD: Hambone is single if you like any of the following:
Meedly-meedlies, video games, food, booze, frequent napping.

Dear Pen15,
What would be the best and most effective ways for me to ascertain a gentleman in my life the caliber of yourselves.

Fridge: You must be a good cook. You must laugh at movie lines that me, Ron Von and KRock find amusing. You must get along with my mother, no questions asked. Please also be named Lauren Conrad and star on The Hills.

RvD: In order to date a professional man of leisure such as R Von D, you must watch the movie roadhouse whilst eating bad chinese food and drinking Jack Daniels. Also, you must fill out the forthcoming R Von D date application and pay the alloted application processing fee (two double cheeseburgers and an oreo McFlurry).

Dear Pen15,
Where do I take a girl out on a first date to let her know I’m really into her?

Fridge: Strip club. I would avoid trendy restaurants at all costs. Because when you find out she’s not into you, you’ll be out a hundo and you won’t have spent that money gathering spank bank material. And if she digs the strip club, you know she’s more than likely what we in the biz call “a keeper.”

RvD: Amen, you're better off making dinner, watching a Pixar movie and pullin' a full-on cuddle hustle.

Dear Pen15,
Why do chubby, sweaty unkempt guys always stare at me in bars, but never approach me?

RvD: Because I'm waiting for you to come talk to me, obviously. Is this that girl from Peddler’s?

Fridge: Because social skills wasn’t an elective at my high school.

Dear Pen15,
I'm really into you guys, but my best friend thinks you're obnoxious...what do we do to fix this?

Fridge: Tell her to take the stick out of her ass and grow a sense of humor. If she fails to comply, I would suggest pushing her into traffic, crying at the funeral, and going out with me post-mortem for some cocktails and dick.

RvD: See, you have to ask yourself this: What is more important? Lifelong friendships or a dozen instances involving fifteen minutes of mediocre sex and an thirty seconds of cuddling and an abrupt exit?

Email us at PenFifteenBlog@GMail.com and we can hash that shit out, proper.

Waltham: A City on The Charles

As some of the readers may know, I recently moved out of my parents basement and into a 3 story duplex in the fighting city of Waltham, Massachusetts. There are two words that describe Waltham best: Blue Collar. On the surface, Waltham has not been much different than my southern New Hampshire hometown. Allow me to bring you some details on my first day here in town.

I spent most of an early September Saturday moving things into this lovely new abode of mine. My new roommate Wang (see the Lake Winnepasaukee blog entries) was most helpful, helping me lug an hdtv, Playstation, several 30 packs of Busch Light, the Hoopmom blanket, and underwear up to my 3rd floor penthouse suite. The move was the mostly inconsequential part of the day. In the mid-afternoon, after we had completed making my new living quarters feel like home (aka hooking up the surround sound and hanging up a Big Lebowski poster) several of our college buddies arrived. We proceeded to walk to the famous Moody Street Mile. For those of you who have not experienced Moody Street, let me do the math for you:

Nashua Main St
+ more bars that serve Pabst
+ attractive 20 somethings
- unattractive, unfriendly 30 somethings
- Christmas Lights on dying trees
+ A Margaritas featuring bartenders that notice you
- A Margaritas featuring bartenders that don't notice you
= Waltham Moody St

We found some steak and pitchers of beer at the underrated Sadie's Saloon. While named a saloon, Sadie's does not yet have those cool split doors. It does however have good food and cheap beer. After we finished dinner, we proceeded to The Skellig. The Skellig is the Waltham equivalent of Peddler's Daughter. Irish bar, loud music that you cannot hear yourself think over and a drunk Fridge acting inappropriately. We watched Clay Buchholz' no-hitter at the Skellig and I drank too much scotch. With 2 outs, I let the entire bar know that I would be buying drinks for the entire audience if he succeeded. After the last pitch I spent half a week's paycheck on Red Bull and Vodka. Not a good idea.

I noticed two late twenties ladies sitting in a booth not paying any attention to me. I approached them and asked why they didn't take me up on my offer of free drinks. They replied "oh, haha we didn't hear you." At this point, I decided that it was my conquest to get some on my first night in town. Big Ron and I spent an hour or so listening to a cover band ruin No Doubt and Matchbox 20 songs and I gained an interest in the younger, less husky, more attractive, more whorish looking of the twosome. Around 1am, the ladies invited Big Ron and I back to their place for some late-night drinking games. At this point, I started sweating profusely and getting the shakes because I thought that me and Big Ron might be "in." When we got back to these ladies' apartment, we played random drinking games for a while and everyone was really enjoying themselves, so we cool.

As I was about to pounce, I noticed a strange flashlight shining in through one of the windows. Then I noticed flashing blue lights out of another window. My first thought was "oh shit, these girls are really 14 and the guy from MSNBC To Catch A Predator is here." My second thought was, "oh shit, Big Ron isn't allowed within 500 feet of females due to that whole Jessica's Law thing." We heard an aggressive knock on the door and all four of us went to the front door. As simply as the Waltham PD could tell us, we found out "You are being entirely too loud for 2:15 in the morning, the neighbors aren't happy." I followed my old college instinct and did the first thing that popped into my head. I ran away. Big Ron and I got down the street and realized we could have made a wiser choice, but oh well. We stopped and bought a horrific amount of Chinese food for two people at one of Moody St's amazing ethnic food joints and proceeded to walk home. When we got home, Big Ron and I found out that our other three visitors and Wang were not as impressed with the smell of Chinese food at 2:45am as we were. We slept, we got hangovers, I called the night a success.

Could I get away with this kind of garbage at my parents house? Probably. But there was something that was fun about not having my roommates/parents to answer to at home.

Night One: SUCCESSFUL




Post Script: Later that week, after being frustrated that my favorite bird from this night hadn't called me, I got a voicemail on my cell phone that sounded something like the following:
"I don't know who you are, or why your phone number is in my girlfriend's phone, but you and your ogre friend need to stay away from her and stop getting the cops to come to her place."
Yes, I was a little intimidated at first, but after relaying this message to Big Ron, I found out that he and a Virginia Beach veteran named Tuba had totally punk'd me I just felt bad about myself, and I came to a realization.

Night One: UNSUCCESSFUL :-(

An R Von D Quick-Hitter From This Past Weekend

If you were not aware, Fridge and I had a small reunion of sorts in the Fighting City of Waltham this weekend. And while there wasn't much to report (a few odds and ends, really), one specific conversation stood out in my mind. Let me paint the scene: We were in a bar called "Big City" putting on an intense (and VERY public) display of bloody knuckles when we were approached by two young men wearing fraternity shirts. They explained to us that they were trying to sell us butane lighters that I've seen people use for crack and crystal meth on the television. One of these young men noticed Fridge's "LLOYD!!" t-shirt. Fridge, being a huge Entourage fan decided to have a bit of fun with this young man. The following conversation ensued:

Frat Boy: Whoa, nice Lloyd t-shirt man, you watch that show?

Fridge: What show?

Frat Boy: Entourage. You know, Lloyd...Ari's assistant?

Fridge: What's an Ari?

Frat Boy: Are you kidding? Ari's this dude and Lloyd is his super-gay assistant.

R Von D: How gay? Like being in a frat gay?

Frat Boy: (stunned silence)

Fridge: K bye.

(Frat boy exits stage left)

While this is not my longest entry, I thought that this was too priceless to let slip away into the ether. I truly believe that the Fridge and I make strangers more uncomfortable than anybody else on the planet once a few drinks are involved. After the frat boy left, Fridge then started using the foosball levers to hit girls in the ass while I proudly sipped upon my white russian. If you want to hang out with us, we are available for parties at penfifteenblog@gmail.com.


With confidence,
Ron

Fridge's Thoughts on Britney Spears

Ron Von Don took the liberty of informing the world that "Fridge heart Fat Britney" in his snoozefest blog about reality tv. Well it's true. I am madly in love with Britney Spears. I know she looked a little doughy at the VMA's and has had a "paunch" for the better part of the past 3 years. Let's be honest with ourselves for a minute though, she looks better than MOST of the ladies found on the Revue's Southern NH Chinese buffet karaoke bar circuit, and that's good enough for me. If Britney is to read any of this post, please get in touch with me at PENFIFTEENBLOG@GMAIL.COM and you can fly me out to LA for an introductory date at an all-you-care-to-eat buffet or at the local In N Out Burger. (I'll have the 4x4 Animal Style.)

I will now list all of the redeeming qualities of Britney Spears and reasons I would thoroughly enjoy being her husband:

1. She probably has the master tapes of Kevin Federline's POPOZAO song, and I could probably get ten grand for those on EBay (Ron Von Don + The Steege just might rob a bank in order to be the top bidders.)
2. She's already had kids, clearly she pokes. (So we cool.)
3. She apparently enjoys a cocktail every once in a while, as does el Fridgerino.
4. She rarely wears underwears.
5. At this point, her vocal skills would fit in at most of the karaoke bars that she and I would haunt.
6. Her bank account is larger than the Gross National Product of Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan and the United Arab Emirates combined.
7. I don't think she can pass "it" to me since she's already on Valtrex.
8. She can't dance very well anymore. So she won't be embarassed to see me attempt to full body dry heave every time "MY HUMPS" comes on when we're hitting top L.A. hot-spots.
9. She rolls with 50 Cent every once in a while. That = more free Vitamin Water for Sunday afternoon softball.
10. She definitely already owns and has the skills to operate a fryolator.



XOXO,
The Future Mr. Fridge Spears

The Pen15 End of Summer Re-Cap

R Von D's Official Statement: "It Never Got Weird Enough For Me."

Tomorrow, I will be leaving the friendly confines of Nashua, NH and I will resume my post as Classical Languages Chair in rural Patheticut. As I have stated prior, this summer has been hedonistic voyage for me fraught with the unapologetic mockery of others devoid of any vocation. Please understand that somebody like me has to do as much living as possible throughout the summer months before the humdrum existence of being a boarding school teacher wraps its icy fingers around my livelihood, thus causing it to shrink. Looking back though, I can't help but feel that this was the best summer of my adult life, and I wish to recap the entire summer for you in superlative form with the help of my Pen15 brethren.



Fridge's Official Statement: "I've been swimming in raw sewage all summer long. I LOVE IT."




This weekend, I'll be moving out of my parents house to head to the fighting city of Waltham. This summer has been interesting for me. I didn't vomit once, which leads me to believe that I've either gotten a bigger tolerance or I didn't drink enough. I also was told on more than one occasion that I was "looking thin." I dont know if these people are telling me I used to look like Vince Wilfork or if they're just trying to be nice, but I know I had self-esteem galore this summer and that lead to a generally more enjoyable experience for the past 3 months. Enjoy the following. If there are any inside jokes you don't get, too bad. (Also, I'm sorry I didn't use words with syllables as big as Mr. Monday Night did above.)

K-Rock Official Statement: "Let's go to the bar, get some drinks, see what's goin on"

I'm heading up to school for my senior year on Sunday. My goals for the year are to pay little attention to school work, get in better shape, and win the Division III Rugby National Championship. I'm going to accomplish this by drinking a lot of gin and watching as much college football as I can. I'll try to come up with some cool shit while i'm up there. I will also work on expanding my vocabulary so I can read what R Von D wrote above.

Best Car Accident: Lance Briggs

Lance "I woulda refused a breafalyza" Briggs took out a telephone pole then ran away from his $350,000 mess. Commander Goodell has yet to deport Briggs for the above action, Lance has also bought 3 new Lance-brighinis.

Worst Car Accident: Ron Von Don vs. Unknown Woodland Creature

Ron Von takes out a small animal. Drunk K-Rock riding shotty doesn't flinch. RVD has to file insurance claim due to horiffic damage. Hilarity does not ensue.

Best Party: The Lea Brothers Graduation Party

Whiffle ball, karaoke, drunk people, and a dunk tank. If you can beat that kind of party, I'd love to see you try.

Best Karaoke Performance: "Rebel Yell" - The Revue

No contest.

Worst Karaoke Performance: "I Touch Myself"

No comment necesarry. If you were at the Buffet and as uncomfortable as Fridge was, you know why.

Best Round of Mini-Golf: The Fridge

While aided by a Norman-esque meltown on the back nine by R Von D, Fridge was lights out during one "adventure themed" golf session, scoring three hole-in-ones on the back nine alone, and thus beating all other competitors by no less than seven strokes. All of this while having the worst sunburn known to man. Seriously, his face looked like it was made entirely of testicle skin.

Best Addition to the Skoal Family: Citrus Blend

Of the gods.

Worst Dancer: The C

We all know the episode of Seinfeld where Elaine is, to her surprise, dubbed a horrible dancer. Picture the "little kicks" and then add senseless jumping up and down and screaming...that's how the C dances. Awful...just awful. Every time the C dances, God creates a new infectious disease. Don't let her do it.

Best Mack-Sesh: Fridge on the pregnant chick.

Bonus points for her being completely hammered while bearing seed and not being able to afford a cell phone. Also, the only mack session in history to be successful after a full beer was dumped on one's head.

Best Summer Drink: Miller Chill

We were going to call this category "Best Beer" but as Dana Complaina pointed out to us, this wonderful Celada Style Beer is actually found in the "malt beverages" section next to Smirnoff Ice and Twisted Teas. No matter, this stuff is unreal and goes really well with Tostitos.

Most Hot Dogs Eaten In A Single Sitting: Six and a half by Big Ron - Bad Dawgs

While not a record breaking endeavor, Big Ron eating five of his own hot dogs and then eating the one hot dog Wang couldn't finish horrified not only us, but the small children sitting beside us.

Best Use of a Taser: N/A

Worst Use of a Taser: DJ Dougie

I hate you Dougie and I hope you get hit by a Mack Truck.

Best Bar: Club OG

Cocktails mixed with Monster Energy drinks, Scorpion Bowls, little pudgy men kissing R Von D and Fridge on top of the head, a cage for dancing and Barnacle Bill all set in scenic Weirs Beach, NH. If I died today of a massive coronary, I'd rather go to Oriental Gardens than Heaven...there I said it.

Best Jersey Purchased: Carl Crawford, Tampa Bay Devil Rays

Good work doughboy.

Best Use of Livestock: K-Rock and the Goat

Proving it's never "too early for goats," K-Rock culminated Wilkipalooza by throwing live goats into people's tents and shutting the door while they were still sleeping. How he managed to catch a goat at 8:00 am while still drunk and on two hours sleep will forever remain a mystery to us all.

Worst Use of Livestock: Fridge and Domn8r at the Yee

The entire lack of shame and standards inherit throughout this endeavor will forever be something of legend. Gave new meaning to the term "goin' hoggin'."
Fridge's note: (I will be marketing t-shirts in the coming weeks bearing the slogan I PLAYED WINGMAN FOR DOM AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS CRAPPY T-SHIRT.)

Best Drink Promotion: "Kick the Keg" at Penuche's

$1.50 drafts until the keg is gone. Honestly what better way to get people arrested on the way home.

Best Drunk Dial: Conor "the King of Manchester":

You're just going to have to trust me on this one. In a word: epic.

Worst Brokeback Experience: Fridge Lathers Ron Von Don

There is nothing cool about rubbing SPF 30 into one of your regular pal's backs.

Worst Use of Sleeves: Hefe

It's summer, it's hot, you're in a crowded bar sweating, but you feel like you need to at least wear a tshirt with sleeves on it because you're embarassed about your scrawny arms. Not Hefe. This kid would go cut-off on an arctic expedition. Our friends are hard to the core, core to the rotten, jump down turn around pick a bail of cotton.

Best Blog: Pen 15 Club

Worst Blog: Chronicles of Duke

Angriest Sober Person: K-Rock

The amount of joy we all felt when K-Rizzle finally got drunk this summer is indescribable. You could actually see the bitterness and sarcasm melt away from his face, his arms came uncrossed and he finally started to enjoy his life. Big shout out to Hambone and Wilkipalooza for helping K-Rock be himself again.

Angriest Drunk Person: Baron Von D

When I'm sober I tolerate you. When I'm drunk I loathe the very thought of you. I will add though that after a truly Bacchanalian Summer such as this one (please look that word up) I have decided to go "dry" until the night before Thanksgiving. Recently I have learned that it's not socially acceptable to bite aluminum cans in half. For one, it makes me look like a complete psycho. Also, it provokes other people, fat annoying dipshit people, to attempt this and cut their mouths open. You're not as cool as me.

Best Web Gem: Hambone's Faceplant

Hambone impaled himself into the ground at Amherst Middle School laying out for a fly ball to right field. It was hilarious. I mean half the people there wet themselves hilarious.

Best Stomach Evacuation of the Summer: K-Rock vs. the Scorpion Pitcher

One time K-Rock had too many scorpion bowls and vomited everywhere. He didn't clean it up or flush the toilet. He acted real surprised when Mrs. K-Rock informed him of his actions the next day. K-Rock had another internal debate regarding the merits of a Month of Detox. Detox lost.

Best Insult: "You Fat Mess"

Used liberally throughout the summer to anyone and everyone. Nobody was safe from the Pen15 Club's signature insult. Male, female, doesn't matter. You knew that at some point you had this phrase coming your way. If you never heard us say this to you directly, it is more than likely how we referred to you when you weren't around or just simply out of earshot.


While we at the club will continue to post over the course of the year, we are sad to see our first summer as a team go. Yet, we look forward to more posts, more writers to come (including Hambone) and new shit to be angry about. Thanks to all of you for your continued support. Now get back to work, you fat mess.

See you in hell,
The Pen15 Club