freak up your day

2006-09-28T19:02:00.000-05:00

enougha this

From now on, you're welcome to check out my new blog, index card time. I can't guarantee there won't be index cards involved.

2006-09-13T11:19:00.000-05:00

Here's another good idea: A soup opera called Il Spaghettio.

2006-08-30T06:03:00.000-05:00

revenge

I have a beef with you, America. It is that you make people wake up at ungodly hours, to the jarring, unnatural sounds of an alarm clock, just to get by. Screw that! You probably weren't expecting someone to STRIKE BACK, but that's exactly what I'm doing. For the next two paragraphs, I'm going to let YOU know how it feels, America. Please read this in the middle of the night:

GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK.

GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK GRONK Okay, I've reconsidered. I guess America isn't the only place that makes you wake up early or do other things you don't want to do. Maybe I just have a beef with human existence, except now my anger is so unfocused that it has dissolved like so much career ambition in the face of America's unforgiving corporate landscape and now I'm angry again, all in the same sentence. Thanks a lot, America.

2006-08-26T02:30:00.000-05:00

who started this blog?

so a lot has happened since last time i posted, i guess. i drove across the country, got broken up with, am writing this on a brand new computer, etc etc. it reminds me of the fact that a whole different guy started writing this blog three years ago with a bunch of lighthearted nonsensical posts that completely baffle me, to be honest. i'd love to keep blogging, but i'm going to need a new template, at the very least. i don't think blogger even has this template anymore. the internet is no place for half-asses.

i'm not ready to be confessional. i'm not capable of being comedic. i'm not inclined to be political. i'd love to just keep exchanging the occasional comment with the fellow bloggers i've met, but i feel like i'm reading your innermost thoughts while giving you an occasional non sequitur, and that can't be right. i wish i knew what to do.

should i keep blogging? should i start a different blog? i'm sure that a survey of the two or three people who might respond will yield the right answer. yeah.

2006-07-19T20:58:00.000-05:00

Punctuation! on the Radio

Someone should start a band called "Indecision? at the Drive-Thru."

2006-07-09T15:16:00.000-05:00

the back streets of heaven

Here is my blurred-out no-flash picture of Over the Rhine:

Man, so great. I only took that one picture. It occurred to me that there are so many people with cameras these days, most of whom are better at taking pictures than me, so it doesn't really matter that I'm a bad photographer. Pretty much everything that you could want a picture of has already been photographed by several people, including this concert, I'm sure. I decided to enjoy the music instead of messing around with my camera the whole time.

This is my blog and I can do whatever I want with it.

2006-06-15T20:34:00.000-05:00

Oh crap it's been a month since i updated my blog.

Not much of a blog anymore, is it? I'm not much of a blogger anymore.

Not much... or TOO much??

YOU decide tonight, on tonight's edition of...

FREAK UP YOUR YEAR!!

-------------------

It all started when I was eating some Kentucky Fried Chicken. "Kentucky Fried Chicken" is putting it a bit too nicely, perhaps. This stuff was like Kentucky Fried Shameless Coward. Shamelessly it cowered, as aimlessly I glowered at Seamus and Howard. (Those were the names I had given to the breast and the thigh.) "Did I give you those names merely for the sake of rhyming," I asked them, "or was there a deeper significance?"

THEY GAVE NO ANSWER.

I had to keep reminding myself that they were the cowards, not I, because this was getting pretty scary. I mean, how ominous can you get, pieces of chicken? You just sit there not saying anything. And think of those capital letters I had to use to describe the scene. Creepy!

After so much fried coward, I was feeling pretty thirsty, and also abnormally brave, so I decided to take on a formidable Extra Large Iced Coffee. "Extra Large Iced Coffee" is putting it a bit too lightly, perhaps. This stuff was like Extra Large Iced Hacking Up A Lung Over There For Goodness' Sake. I threw a couple of cough drops in there to help soothe my afflicted beverage...

AND THEN IT TASTED WEIRD.

This was getting rather creepy. Not to mention rather familiar. I thought I could recall this exact pattern of paragraphs happening to me before.

BUT WHAT DID IT MEAN?

Wait, never mind. That broke the pattern.

Well, after so much iced mocha-lyptus, I had to use the restroom, naturally. "Restroom" is putting it a bit kindly, perhaps. This place was like a Never Even Lift A Finger To Help Anyone Around Here Room. I forgot what I had gone in there to do and just ended up giving the room a long lecture about "Idleness is the seed of the fruit of the plant of destruction" or something.

AND THEN MY BLADDER EXPLODED.

I feel my story should probably end here.

2006-05-15T05:04:00.000-05:00

oh man everybody

PINKY and the BRAIN is coming out on DVD on my BIRTHDAY. I guess 22 is going to mean something after all! Animaniacs is coming out on the same day, but we all know which two mice were the highlight of Animaniacs anyway.

2006-05-02T22:01:00.000-05:00

best overheard sentence in several months:

"God's rifle is firing nonviolence."

2006-04-19T18:51:00.000-05:00

war of the words, part one

It's that time again.

What time?

Good question, Signor Italics. Time to bring back Signor Italics! We haven't had a chat with him in a while.

Maybe you haven't. I have.

Oh, thanks for illustrating a point I was going to bring up. Doesn't it look funny when you're writing in italics and you want to emphasize something, so you have to use regular typeface?

Jerk. How would you like it if I called you funny-looking?

Go ahead. That's what we're all about here at "Freak Up Your [interval]."

I thought you were all about never writing anything, ever.

Well, we've always been all about having more than one thing that we're all about. And I guess that includes being all about sarcastic typefaces.

Watch who you're calling typeface, ~~ass-~~ BUTT-face.

Whoa, it's Officer Strike-Thru! Officer Strike-Thru ~~won't let anybody have any fun~~ IS SUCH A WAY COOL GUY. Everybody ~~look out~~ REJOICE.

Good morning, Officer. You look striking today. Striking thru and thru.

So I guess Officer Strike-Thru isn't into the bad words?

You're ~~damn~~ QUITE right he's not.

Man, what an UPSTANDING CITIZEN.

Yeah, I wish he'd get A MEDAL OR SOMETHING ALREADY.

Wait, he's not even striking thru our words anymore! He's just del-IGHTFUL!

This is getting ridiculousLY AWESOME.

That's it. I'm getting out of WAYS TO COMPLIMENT OFFICER STRIKE-THRU.

Help! Run for MAYOR, OFFICER STRIKE-THRU! EVERYBODY WOULD VOTE FOR YOU!

GUYS, WHERE DID YOU GO?

WELL, FORGET THEM. I AM THE BEST. NO ONE WILL EVER GUESS THAT OFFICER STRIKE-THRU IS JUST THE MAGNIFICENT MR. ALL-CAPS IN DISGUISE.

2006-04-05T15:20:00.000-05:00

Oh crap it's been nigh a fortnight since I updated my blog.

I hate how I can't say the word "tarty" without it sounding like "tardy."

2006-03-23T11:46:00.000-06:00

Oh crap it's been a month since I updated my blog.

Maybe I've gotten a life, you say? I wish. Is "life" the Greek word for "reading hundreds of pages of various kinds of literature every day until your brain is some kind of liquid goo?" No, I'm seriously asking, is it? I don't know what words mean anymore.

2006-02-23T22:42:00.000-06:00

I had purple greens for dinner?!

2006-02-05T19:27:00.000-06:00

A message for Dave Omdal

I'll Lost your Found, jerk.

2006-01-26T18:16:00.000-06:00

Interactive Freakday, Part 2

Poll: Who cares?

2006-01-23T21:22:00.000-06:00

Murder con Queso
A relic from my past has recently been unearthed. A totally awesome relic. Known to true believers as Murder con Queso, it was the brainchild of modern-day comedic wizard David Omdal, carried to fruition with the help of me and a small group of highly cheesed amateur filmmakers. The greatest home movie ever created? You decide. No, I decide. Yes, it was.

It was missing for years, but a few days ago, it was found. I might soon have a copy of my own. Oh man. Man.

2006-01-21T19:31:00.000-06:00

Kevin Federline is our generation's Neal Cassady

Just kidding. OR AM I?

2006-01-19T20:26:00.000-06:00

Interactive Freak Day, Part 1

Complete the advertising slogan:

"Tastes so _______, it must be _______."

2006-01-18T13:01:00.000-06:00

"You think you're so great, but you're not. Everyone secretly hates you, but they won't admit it, because they're all too busy sucking up to you because you're so great."

2006-01-17T23:31:00.000-06:00

"Where do you go when the Muse leaves you?"
"To a musement park."

2006-01-16T13:39:00.000-06:00

How many years in a row does the weather have to be "unseasonably warm" before that temperature is considered seasonable?

The answer, my friends, is blowin' in the wind.

2006-01-15T18:14:00.000-06:00

2 Embarrassing Scenes Involving Me and Bob Dylan's Bringing It All Back Home

Scene 1, in a car, sometime during early high school(?)

Bob Dylan: "She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back.
She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back."

Me: He said that already.

Guy Driving the Car: Are you a musician? You could take a lesson from this guy.

Me: Who is this?

Guy: Bob Dylan.

Me: Oh.

Scene 2, some months or years later, in my basement, my brother John listening to "Mr. Tambourine Man"

Me: Ugh, why is Bob Dylan singing this song?

John: I think he wrote it.

Me (later): I like it when he plays the harmonica because then he isn't singing.

So now, years later, the album shows up on the book list for one of my classes, and I get to listen to it and be reminded of two separate occasions when I blabbed my ignorant mouth off about Bob Dylan. What fun.

2006-01-03T14:11:00.000-06:00

Damn the Thorpedo, full speed ahead!

I've been everywhere at least zero times.

2006-01-02T13:08:00.000-06:00

Old Slang Time

"Carpetbagger." That was a good one. We should bring that one back. It could be more literal this time, like someone who goes around bagging up carpet. Some guy would come into my room and start pulling up the carpet and stuffing it in a bag, and I'd be like "Avast ye, carpetbagger!" And then he'd avast, and it would be a merry old time.

Happy new year, everybody. I wish I could wish everybody their own individual new year, but I guess we all have to share the same year. I suppose it's probably less confusing than having the years 2006-circa6000002006 occur simultaneously. So happy conglomerate new year, everybody.

2005-12-21T12:14:00.000-06:00

Here's a genre that's even better than pop-punk: Fop-funk. Well-dressed Oscar Wilde-era Englishmen playing nasty grooves. Get with it.

2005-12-18T20:10:00.000-06:00

I'm thinking about writing a Greek-style tragicomedy called "Happy Christmas on a Crappy Isthmus."

2005-12-12T20:22:00.000-06:00

Ben Folds.

Since I always bend to the will of the people, I have Benned to the apparent will of two people, the Cs V. and N. This blog is now an exclusive Ben Folds forum, suitable for discussion of Ben Folds and Ben Folds-related issues. Don't let me catch you talking about anything besides Ben Folds, or I'll fold your head into smithereens.

2005-12-11T23:53:00.000-06:00

C.N., I haven't been able to read your blog for a while now. My browser freezes whenever I go there. I think it's because of the video you posted a while ago. In the parlance of Isral, it "effs up my computer." I had to post this here because, you know, I can't comment on your blog.

2005-12-08T21:48:00.000-06:00

Think how fast erosion would be if dirt were Koolaid.

2005-12-07T01:20:00.000-06:00

Clare loves me

and I love her.

2005-12-02T11:59:00.000-06:00

Today in math we talked about something called a "least squares solution," and it sounded to me like some sort of Hipster Hitler's plan for purifying the population.

Maybe we could call him Hipler, i thought, or maybe even Hipstler. Hipler is easier to say, but there's something about that Hipstler. If Hipstler was the bonus round word on Wheel of Fortune, it would be the kind of word where they give you most of the letters right away but you'd still have trouble guessing what it was. I guess it wouldn't help that it's not a real word.

When i drink coffee before math class, something wonderful happens. Made-up war criminals aside, some sort of channel is opened in my brain, and all the mathematical ideas make perfect sense and somehow appeal to some kind of aesthetic sensibility in me. I sit there all hour going "Wow, yeah, that... that's brilliant!" Like the theorems and relations of numbers to each other are these works of art, almost. I imagine it must be how mathemeticians feel sometimes. It's bizarre that it's coffee doing this to me, because you'd never expect there to be a connection between orthogonality and cinnamon/vanilla/hazelnut.

2005-11-30T17:52:00.000-06:00

Snow Freakin' Way Man 2: Electric Ig-a-loo

(this picture is actually from last year.)

Our other snow melted but then this one came a couple days ago and it's still here for now. I can't see it now because it's dark. That's why I didn't take a picture of it for this post.

This picture is of my favorite kind of snow, though, the kind that sticks to trees and makes everything look like chocolate-covered pretzels if the chocolate were drained of its color and off-whitified, or if it were just white chocolate to begin with. Winter always makes me come up with the best similes. It makes me feel "poetic," which is a kind of tic that Poe had where he would just blurt out cool-sounding dark imagery without warning.

Oh, i should have been more clear about my last half-a-dumpling contest. I didn't mean to imply that every Tom, Jack, and entrant in the contest was automatically entitled to a half a dumpling. That was meant to be the prize reserved for the winner of the contest, as judged by me. But then so many people started demanding them that i didn't know where my head was anymore. But since it is the Christmas season and i liked all the acronyms, i'm giving everybody a half a dumpling, except Tom and Jack. For a limited time only, they will be hand-delivered in a Polish Power tote bag by His Oyal Highness, my printer.

Blernk.

2005-11-21T21:49:00.000-06:00

Just now I was trying to get my printer to print something, when I realized the cord connecting it to my computer was not plugged in. When I plugged it back in, my printer spat out a sheet of paper that was completely blank except for these two letters in the top left corner:

OY

I swear it's true.

2005-11-20T20:03:00.000-06:00

Some organizations at my school like to use the "STO" from "St. Olaf" as the first part of the acronym for their name, like STOGROW (St. Olaf Garden Research and Organic Works). Clare and I have decided to form a group called STOTALITARIANISM. I'm still trying to craft a bacronym for it. If you want to give it a shot, that'd be cool. Halves of dumplings will be on the line, as usual.

2005-11-18T15:40:00.000-06:00

Apparently, this is how Isral's doing all his posts now.
This is another good example of the style.

2005-11-16T16:17:00.000-06:00

snow freakin' way, man.

Yeah, it snowed last night and today. It had been raining most of the day, and when it started snowing, I said to someone "It won't stay on the ground because it's so wet." I'm always telling lies.

I love this season. Clare hates it, but she's from Florida, so it makes sense. Snow for her doesn't conjure up thoughts of the holidays or childhood like it does for me. For her it conjures up thoughts of frostbite and misery. What are you gonna do? Frostbite and misery are in my blood.

I need some egg nog pretty quick. I always feel like I need some egg nog when it snows. Actually, this snow will probably melt, and then I won't need it anymore, but before then, I do. I'll go find some.

Anyway, now I haven't been writing a novel or posting in my blog. I'm just a lazy guy, it seems. Well, I've been doing a lot of work for English and actually kind of enjoying school. Don't you worry about me.

2005-11-09T18:01:00.000-06:00

lame jam bands through the ages

G. Love and Special Sauce
G. Like and Uncommon Sauce
G. Dislike and Usual Sauce
G. Hate and Faceless Corporate Sauce

2005-11-05T23:22:00.000-06:00

never mind

due to several different things, i'm sitting at about 3000 words in the novel-writing thing. i don't think i'll have the time to catch up, so i'm calling it quits. maybe next year.

2005-11-02T00:47:00.000-06:00

freak up your month of november

Like web-friends Katie and Lindsay, I'm doing National Novel Writing Month this year. That's my excuse if I don't be as posty sometimes. I might try to post some excerpts from-a my book in lieu of posts maybe, but i don't know yet. Don't complain, it's all for the name of fun. If anyone wants to read the whole jolly well thing at the end, you're more than welcome to. Assuming it gets finished.

2005-10-31T17:29:00.000-06:00

Happy Halloween!
I hope you're all hallowing Ween right now. I know I am. Here are the collected poems of Bensaki.*
*abridged

Untitled #25, in which someone dies
--
Mechanically, she stabbed me with a pencil.
Pointedly, I asked "why?"
Coldly, she handed me an ice pack.
I froze.

Titled #26
--
The insect world is a boutique in miniature,
Spiders are tiny chandeliers-
I mean that literally.
(But they burn quickly so you shouldn't blink.)

Haiku #27
--
Haiku can be fun
Short and easy, bla bla bla
Lazy man's delight.

Corn Nuggets and Their Friends Have a Day at the Park #28
--
On the twenty-eighth day of the month,
Corn nuggets and their friends went to the park.

On the twenty-eighth day of the moth,
It flew into a bug zapper.

On the twenty-eighth day of the mot
ley Crue festival,
Everyone got sick of it and went home.

On the twenty-eighth day of the mo.,
Crn. Nugs. & Frnds. -> Prk.

On the twenty-eighth day of the m,
Many more moments - many more, man.

2005-10-30T17:59:00.000-06:00

i know where the summer goes

Since i just recently took the time to figure out how to upload pictures, and since my favorite season is waning, i decided to show you my favorite pictures of the splendid St. Olaf campus in its autumn glory. After this, i promise to try and get off the picture trip for a while. But for now, enjoy the sweet melancholy of the fall.

2005-10-29T11:45:00.000-05:00

something always missing, always someone missing something

2005-10-26T10:16:00.000-05:00

I gotta get a new balm.

I haven't been able to leave comments lately, for some reason. If you're someone whose blog I usually read and you feel like I've been neglecting you lately, chances are I've tried to say at least 3 witty things to you but the comments haven't registered. So try this fun exercise: Pick one of your recent blog posts and an item from the following list, and pretend that I left it as a comment, then you can feign the appropriate emotional response with gestures and facial expressions to match.

Things Bensaki Probably Tried Saying to You:

-Yes.
-No.
-I agree with you, but [arbitrary point of contention that has little to do with the main point of your post].
-You're a dork, but I'm calling you a dork through the dorky medium of the internet, so that makes me question the very foundations of the universe practically.
-Bla bla silly word bla.
-A pox on both your mouses.
-You might think that now, but if you were a rabid dog, you would think "ARF RARF RARF BARF BLARF!"
-You/I have a [ridiculous noun] for a head.
-That was a pretty good insight, but the best inn sites are Park Place and Boardwalk.
-Have you ever vomited all your emotions onto your keyboard and it sounded like "BLOOOOOOG!"?
-You/I have a ridiculous noun for a head.

That should keep everyone sated until I can leave comments again, but if for some reason you are still unhappy, write me a request and I will send you a personalized comment via telepathy or, where applicable, telephony.

*EDIT: Isral gets an A+ for this exercise. Or maybe a check plus. I got a check plus on an exercise once, I think. Isn't Check Plus one of those cash advance places?

2005-10-19T23:44:00.000-05:00

good god, y'all

spore. huh. yeah. what is it good for? propagating fungus. say it again.

2005-10-12T11:43:00.000-05:00

Yeah, okay.

Some people like to use the term "tennis ball" to refer to a ball used in a game of tennis. Myself, I like to think of a "tennis ball" as a little round chunk of the abstract concept of tennis. Why? Mainly because I like to make things more difficult than they are. If someone asks me for a tennis ball, I give them a weird look and say, "You want a ball of aerobic exercise, weird European names, and wealthy hobbyists?" Then I give them one and quickly leave before I have to find out what sort of alarming things they were planning to do with it.

That reminds me, there used to be some outdoor tennis courts near one of our dorms, but now the fence and the nets are gone and the words "OPEN YOUR EYES" are painted on the court. I can't tell you how much this has changed my life. I was obviously living in some sort of tennis-filled fantasy world, blinded by my own stubborn ignorance to the fact everything I thought I knew about the universe was a lie. Obviously, tennis is The Matrix, and if we don't wake up to that truth, and soon, the world we love and all its vital racquet sports are in danger. I wonder what the people who wrote that were thinking.

I miss the days when I could just wander into the bookstore on my way back from somewhere, buy a cd that I'd never heard before, and end up loving it. Actually, that only happened once.

I figured out why people say "Happy New Year" instead of "Happy New Deer." It's because New Deer sounds like Nude Ear, and "Happy Nude Ear" makes no sense.

2005-10-03T07:13:00.000-05:00

Early Morning Freak Up Show

I enthusiastically welcome the return of lindsay, fka liusia, to the blog world, as will anyone who recalls her former glory.

When something happens twice, it becomes an issue of concern, and when there is an issue of concern, I address it. In that spirit, there's something I have to say. This is the second time, or perhaps even the third, that another man has asked me, "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?" (obviously because of the inherent hilarity of a guy asking that question. O wellspring of laughter, will the fun never end?) Before some thoughtful individual decided to immortalize that sentiment in song, very few guys, if any, had ever thought to ask me such a question. Now it is as though their inner homewreckers have been freed to tart themselves about and be witty and brash. It's bloody scandalous is what it is.

Furthermore, there are logical fallacies aplenty in the question itself ("aplenty," as everyone knows, being the latin word for "two"). First, it makes unfounded assumptions about the relative temperatures of the asker and the girlfriend. Any old lukewarm or chilly individual could ask the question and give themselves all sorts of undue credit in hotness and heat. Then, at the same time, the unfortunate girlfriend is drained of her own hotness by the icy fingers of slander, if you will. Second, by using the glaringly un-politically-correct term "girlfriend" in place of the preferred "nonspecific entity of lovin'," the question adheres to traditional gender stereotypes and leaves the door open for every guy I run into to make the same delightfully gender-bending joke that they never consider cramming into their ear even though they should.

So take notice, would-be Clever Dans: I'm not having it. You know the saying "Be careful what you wish for, it might come true?" Well, only slightly less well-known is this: "Be careful what you ask other people if they don't wish for, they might punch your sorry brains into Bisquick."

Time to go crave some toast.

2005-10-02T11:50:00.000-05:00

Here's a fun fact that you might not know about me: Since there's no mirror in my room, sometimes before I go out I take a picture of myself with my digital camera just to see what I look like. Then I erase the picture. That's techno-age overkill for you. I have also, in the past, used my laptop computer as a pocketwatch.

2005-09-30T15:05:00.000-05:00

I'm on a seafood diet. When I see food, I dye it.

2005-09-26T22:31:00.000-05:00

The Ghost of a Post as it Heads for the Coast

I feel dumb keeping this blog. I hardly can think of anything funny anymore. I think it would be fun sometimes to keep a "real" blog, like about stuff that happens to me and what I think and try to be interesting about it. But that would be dumb too, because so many people that I know read this blog, and if I'm going to talk about things, then the next time I talk to them I won't have anything to talk about, or they'll be like "Oh, you think x, huh?" and I'll be like "Eh, don't worry about it" and the whole rest of the bus ride to Reno will be uncomfortably silent.

Is the point of blogs to entertain people or to inform them about what's going on in your life? I think a lot of people use them to keep people up to date, but I don't think that's the real purpose. Half the blogs I read are by people I don't know, and what value could there be in reading about their daily happenings if it weren't entertaining? Some people write so well that it's interesting just to hear about their boring day. Other people couldn't make a thought-provoking statement with a flamethrower.

I have a suspicion that I'd be super boring if I tried to write the kind of blog I like to read. To be perfectly honest, my favorite part of having this blog is the discussions in the comments. A bunch of people who don't know each other can weigh in on issues of no consequence. It's fun.

I'll keep this blog up and try to be more creative and clever. I'm lazy and dumb, though, and not at all a descendent of the Olympian deities. Three strikes against me right there. I'm out, I guess.

2005-09-21T17:46:00.000-05:00

When I woke up today, I wasn't planning to count the number of Coldplay shirts I saw, but despite my lack of preparation, I was able to collect fairly accurate data. I saw four of them. More on this as it develops.

2005-09-15T19:09:00.000-05:00

The Soothrhymesayer Says

I predict that the next big thing in hip-hop slang will be an adoption of colonial language, and we'll have things like "Ye Olde Gee Unitte" and "the town crunkard."

2005-09-13T15:20:00.000-05:00

Big, big news, man. Big.

So last year, someone said "I like your shirt" to me. Today, someone else told me the same thing while I wore the same shirt. "Sure," you say, "that happens sometimes. Maybe it's even happened to me." But this is not a noteworthy shirt. 2 out of 2 people who are me or Clare agree on that. It's a plain purple-on-black plaid shirt with buttons. It doesn't say anything on it and it's not even shiny or on fire. I thought that people usually said "I like your shirt" to people with either flamboyantly awesome shirts or shirts that reference some sort of dumb pop culture thing that they like. I've had that happen to me before even. But this, this is borderline unusual.

I could understand one person saying it, because the odds are good that at least one person out there will like a given shirt, and I just ran into that person. But today's incident has left me wondering if my shirt is the same as some celebrity's shirt or something. I mean, kids like "rap" these days. Maybe it's some kind of "rap" shirt. Otherwise, I can't think of what would make it noteworthy.

Ahem, funny you should mention that...

Oh, look, everybody. It's Signor Italics! What do you want, Signor Italics?

Well, I see quite a similarity between your shirt and this post.

Namely?

Namely, neither is worth mentioning. Just as you could not understand why someone would go to the trouble of complimenting your shirt, I'm racking my brains here for a reason why you'd go to the trouble to write about it. Honestly, some people write about world events or even dramatic occurrences in their own lives. You write about your shirt.

And you write about me writing about my shirt.

Oh, shove off.

You shove off.

I'll shove you.

2005-09-12T19:35:00.000-05:00

I'm Freaking Up To Us

I've been trying to think of ways to make boring things more interesting. People are funny, but isn't it weird how nobody is funny in exactly the same way as someone else? And some people aren't funny at all. If someone claims to not be funny, they're either being modest or they're really not funny, and you hate to say "no, i'm sure you're funny" and then have it turn out that they were just telling the truth. If someone claims to be funny, they're also either lying or telling the truth. I think, actually, that's true for whenever people say anything, now that i think about it.

Okay, now there's an example. The last paragraph was pretty boring, so how could I have made it more interesting? It doesn't really matter, because i'm not going to go back and change it now. I could try and make this paragraph more interesting, but what's in it for me? This is a problem in my life, I think.

I like it when people say "We want a pitcher, not a belly-itcher." I want to say that to people of other professions whenever I get the chance. Like "We want a banker, not a silly wanker." Or "We want a plumber, not a total bummer." There are probably all sorts of these. Let's see how many I can do.

You could say "We want a butcher, not an Ashton Kutcher." Like, you know, if your butcher is dating someone significantly older than himself. Or making poor role choices in movies maybe.

"We want a waiter, not a ancient Latin verb conjugator." I hate when that happens.

If you're sick of watching city coucil meetings degenerate into freestyle rap battles, there's "We want a mayor, not a dope rhymesayer."

If your favorite band has recently taken to throwing freshly baked muffins into the audience, to the detriment of their music, you can bust out "We want a rocker, not a Betty Crocker."

How about "We want an actor, not a benefactor"? (Truth be told, I'd much rather have a benefactor. Change that one to "sexy tractor," maybe.)

Finally, if a blogger you know writes nothing but stupid posts when he writes them at all, what do you do? Fill In The Blank, baby!

2005-09-06T17:01:00.000-05:00

a quick trifle

I need suggestions on how to fill a freakload of empty wall space in my new dorm room. I had no luck at the poster sale, and I wouldn't ask for help except that I'm sick of listening to myself complain about it. My tastes are weird and annoying, so it's hard to find stuff that I like. Two free gift certificates for at least three-quarters of a high-quality dumpling to anyone who suggests something totally sweet, subject to verification.

Never let me slip, cause if I slip, then I'm slippin.

2005-09-02T13:27:00.000-05:00

Here's a good idea for Teen Girl Squad: One of the characters says something unusually wise, then gets trampled by a pack of rodents while Strong Bad yells "SHREW'D!"

2005-08-25T22:35:00.000-05:00

a post

I think I may have just made a breakthrough discovery about why mathemeticians die so young. You see, they add up numbers all day, right? And every time you add up some numbers, you get a total. And Total has 100% of your daily value of 11 vitamins and minerals. So let's say you add up some numbers on five separate occasions during the course of one day. That's 500% of your daily value, so it's as though you've lived five whole days in that one 24-hour period. And most mathemeticians do lots more adding than that in a day. I'd figure out exactly how much adding, but I don't want to die.

2005-08-19T13:13:00.000-05:00

Hey CV, what happened to your blog?

Hey CV, what happened to your blog?

2005-08-15T16:08:00.000-05:00

A short demonstration on why Bensaki is a moron

Last wednesday's post contained the suggestion that I might wear a shirt that says "Breakfast." (In reality, I don't like to wear shirts that say things, but that's not the point.)

Two days later, Aug. 12, C.N. left a comment that said, among other things, "Lets hope you become the pied piper of all cannibals in your town." Upon reading this, I accused her of being any of several atrocious combinations of drunk and a hummingbird.

This morning at 11:45, I finally figured out what the deuce she meant by that.

Let's take a look at the statistics:

Amount of time it takes Bensaki to make a sarcastic remark about a joke he doesn't get: 3 hours and 20 minutes

vs.

Amount of time it takes Bensaki to get the joke: 2 days, 20 hours and 33 minutes

In the unlikely event that anyone be more lost than I (and to prove I got it finally) she meant that hopefully the cannibals would think I was breakfast and follow me out of town as though I were some type of pie-bedecked piper. I'm such a dweeb.

Ladies and gentlemen, a short demonstration.

Epilogue: Okay, but that still doesn't explain the first half of your comment, C. "hummingbirds have desirable silhouettes, that's why." What question were you answering with that? The word "why" doesn't even appear in that post. Bah, this one's going to bite me in the nose too, I can feel it.

2005-08-10T00:37:00.000-05:00

Hummingbirds: What the Crap?

This post is aptly titled, because what the crap is with hummingbirds? I'm particularly mystified by hummingbird food. The stuff we feed hummingbirds is essentially Kool-Aid, and I know Kool-Aid doesn't occur in nature, so that's obviously not what hummingbirds normally eat. I think hummingbird food is the brainchild of some prankster scientists who were observing hummingbirds once and said to each other, "Hey, since these birds are all fluttery and cuckoo to begin with, what if we gave them straight-up sugar water and watched them freak out? It would be hilarious!" I'll bet there have been questionable, unpublished studies done with like cocaine or speed or some other formula that never found its way onto pet store shelves.

I asked a hummingbird what he thought about being the victim of the biggest scientific practical joke since Fancy Feast, and this is what he said: "Zippity whEEEEEEEEEE zonk bonk fonk boingidy boingidy boingidy EEEEE ooooo EEEEE ooooo EEEEE ooooo brrrrrrrrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrblblblblblblblb - ahem." *flutter* I asked another hummingbird and he said basically the same thing. In fact, it was a general consensus in the hummingbird community. There was one guy who said "Well, I'm counting calories, so BOOWAAAAA wing ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding I just don't get into that sort of thing."

It was obvious that the situation was dire, so I decided to set up a charitable fund to help hummingbirds overcome their addiction. Unfortunately, it never got off the ground, because nobody wanted to sit still and listen to my proposal. I guess the best we can do to right the wrongs of the bird-hating scientific community, as responsible bird-feeders, is to start using Splenda.

That reminds me, I saw someone wearing a Coldplay shirt the other day. What's the point of that? I think there are something like four people in the world who don't like Coldplay. It's like wearing a shirt that says "Breakfast."

Actually, I think I might do that. I'd probably get all sorts of positive feedback. "Hey, alright, breakfast! I eat that too, man! Sweet!" I'd be the coolest guy in town for once.

Push Barman to Open Old Wounds.

2005-07-21T08:24:00.000-05:00

Freak me two times, I'm going away

I've always hated TV commercials, and the recent Dairy Queen commercials are some of the worst I've seen. Not only were they guilty of that unspeakably horrible "muffin the cat" piece (a thousand apologies for even reminding you of it), but the new one with the scientists and the killer bee gouges at the very thighbone of my soul as well.

My beef with this commercial is of a logical nature. First, the scientist with the magnified mouth (which helps the bee read his lips) tells the other that he has learned how to speak bee. One expects this type of unreality in the fantasy land of television. We are no strangers to the idea of TV characters speaking with animals. So I have no problem with this part. The trouble is with the next line, where the second scientist asks what possible scientific purpose there could be to this discovery, only to be interrupted and stung to death by the bee.

Back it up a second. I know it's still just a fantasy scenario, but even a pretend scientist wouldn't say something like that. What scientific purpose could you serve by learning another animal's language? He's right, no way is the scientific community interested in studying the way animals communicate. Quit wasting valuable laboratory resources with your breakthroughs in interspecies dialogue. Stupid.

On a sort of related note, I'd like to hear a commercial like this sometime: "Come see why Tim's Subs are a cut above the rest! We almost always use only the freshest ingredients, except sometimes on especially slow Thursdays we let the meat sit out on the windowsill for a few hours before we use it. Plus, cats pee on our floor!"

Tomorrow (Friday) I'm going to Florida to spend the week with my fantastic girlfriend Clare, in case you happen to think of me next week and wonder where I am and whether I'm having the best week of my life. The answer to both questions will be "yes."

2005-07-11T16:00:00.000-05:00

Spring water with an asterisk of lime.

If you think about the meaning of prefixes, "anatomic" should mean "not atomic." So conventional bombs could also be called anatomic bombs. I guess the best example of an anatomic bomb would be the human cannonball.

2005-06-22T16:14:00.000-05:00

Finally, the Internet

Every time I promise to start blogging on a regular basis again, something always pops up to stop me. I think out of my last 7 posts, about 5 of them have comments that say something like "bensaki's back!" Well, this last time was totally not my fault. I really didn't have internet access. But I do now. I'm back again for the fourteenth time, and this time I promise nothing. Nothing but the freak, that is.

Since I recently shared a sample of my vast collection of short stories, I thought now would be a good time to tell you about a related business venture I started some time ago. It's called Bensaki Publishings Thorporation, based in Thorp, WI. In its brief history, Bensaki Publishings Thorporation (BFC) has amassed an illustrious catalog of fiction, non-fiction, and other fiction, except I was lying about the non-fiction part. It's all fiction. Wait, did I say BFC? Sorry, I got it mixed up with Bensocky Fried Chicken.

The first BPT publication to gain a small degree of recognition was The True, Non-Fictional Biography of King Henry VI (not a novel) by Billy Joe Bobbiesuesberg, which was a novel about black holes who learned to speak English from the astronauts who got sucked into them. The newly anglophone black holes came to Earth disguised as salesmen in order to infiltrate the home appliance industry so they could unleash their destructive fury on all the vacuum manufacturers and establish a monopoly on sucking the bejeebus out of everything within a million miles. It's a pretty good premise for a story, but the fun ends way too soon. It turns out no one will hire them to suck the bejeebus out of anything. Bejeebus was in short supply in those days, because the story is set during the Great Depression.

Bobbiesuesberg went on to star in such films as "Hey Look, That Guy is Pointing a Gun at Me, I Think I'll Shoot A Quick Video of Him," "Ow, Holy Crap, Good Thing the Lens Deflected That Bullet," and "Hey Buddy, You Owe Me a New Video Camera."

Bensaki Publishings truly struck gold for the first time with the best-selling novel How to Pronounce My Last Name by Sam Wklpklchtwskrdwbblvoop. The success of this nail-biting epic far outshone that of its follow-up, How to Pronounce My First Name by Sam Wklpklchtwskrdwbblvoop (which was sneakily marketed in some areas as How To Pronounce My First Name by Wklpklchtwskrdwbblvoop, Sam). Many readers were disappointed, until Sam came back with his triumphant third novel, You'll Never Guess What My Middle Name Is by Sam See Title Wklpklchtwskrdwbblvoop. Sam is now living in luxury in whatever perplexing country he's from.

With his two most eminent authors retired from the business, Bensaki (wait, that's me!) took up my pen and started writing his fictional memoirs. I looked for that pen for weeks, and when I found out he had taken it, I pummeled him with pomegranates until I could take it no more and I gave my pen back. This set the writing of the memoirs back a few months while I recovered from his injuries... I mean my injur... we all had injuries. It was a confusing time.

Finally, BFC published Freak Up and Smell the Coffee, a how-to style book that gives an in-depth plan for dreaming up and telling tall tales about your very own imaginary publishing company, just like that fellow Benwhatshisname. If the instructions are followed to the letter, the plan will fail, because the book is deliberately misleading. Just kidding.

In that spirit, feel free to send manuscripts and all manner of condiment packets to Bensaki Thumblishings Corpuscle at this address:

Bensucky Fried Chicken Thorporation
1/2 Dumpling Rd.
Thorp, WI 5something something something something

Have a day.

2005-06-01T11:08:00.000-05:00

O. Henry-style

Here's a short story I wrote.

Once upon a time I didn't have the internet at my house anymore because some people were using our computer to call small European republics. In a fit of rage, I had to wait until my parents got the computer debugged or bought a new one. With flying fists of fury, I sat at home not updating my blog. Then I used my dad's computer at work to write a short story.

The end.

Call me at my house if you know the number. If you don't, look it up. If you don't know what my name is or where i live, you'll have to not call me. Have a freaky week(s).

2005-05-19T20:13:00.000-05:00

In an interstellar burst, I'm back to save a bunch of money on car insurance.

I've been trying to think of ways to make this a more bloggity blog. I mean, I hardly ever link anything, nor do i use asterisks* or parenthetical asides (which suck, by the way). I could certainly stand to use more song lyrics and/or pop culture references in my titles** while i'm at it.

So this afternoon when i was walking to my exam, this guy who's a total jerk comes up to me and says, "Hey loser, you know what else you could put on your piece of crap blog? Funny conversations you have with people that get on your nerves. Everyone can relate to that."

I was all like, "Yeah, whatever, jerk." Man, I hate that guy.

Then I thought, while i'm at it, i might as well write a list of things i want. That seems like a good idea. Bullet points, baby.

�I'd really like an eight-volume video series on the "History of the Scissors." I hear it's cutting-edge. (Ba-dum-bum-SLICE AHHHHMYFINGERSAHHHHH!&!#!+!)

�Also I want four ounces of cheese. Rotating flavors.

�Next I want a digital shoe. (Don't buy me two, I'd feel bad making someone spend that much money on me.)

�It would also be nice to have all of everyone's money.

�Finally, i want true friendship, in twelve-pack form. Don't get the two-liter kind, that stuff goes flat really fast.

So I think I've made this a pretty bloggy blog, as far as blogs go. Any other suggestions are welcome, of course. Now to go not update for a month.
----------------------
*as anna and c.n. are so fond of doing.
**RaGeicohead, anyone?

2005-05-18T22:28:00.000-05:00

My last three google searches:

kool-aid faq
samurai
james buchanan

2005-05-13T12:06:00.000-05:00

Here's somethng you don't hear every day: Someone saying "It's Tuesday" and being right.

You know how when you kill a dinosaur, and you can usually taste its blood seconds before you throw the spear, but then it kind of tastes like Frito-Lays, so you stop killing the dinosaur and you go down to the hardware store and buy a big plank of wood so you can smash in the window of the grocery store and run off with a free bag of Frito-Lays? This post is about that.

I want to work in the post office and write dumb comments on all the letters that make fun of the people's names. Then, whenever there was a letter that didn't have a funny name on it, I would just change the name to Oliver Buttski. I think it might be a felony to tamper with the mail, but come on... Oliver Buttski.

Judo is kind of fun. Especially in someone else's ballet class.

I think that's all I have to say this time. Look for a midweek freakup if I have time.

2005-05-05T00:43:00.000-05:00

Cinco de Todayo!

Jose Felicianos! It's Cinco de Mayo, my favorite holiday! Oh man, is this day ever great. How could you beat a holiday named after the day it happens on? Even the Fourth of July is just a cheap knock-off brand Cinco de Mayo. I was putting off the weekly freakup just so I could post on Cinco de Mayo. That was the only reason.

Since I've just started the blog back up, and in honor of this most glorious and Mexican of holidays, I'm totally going to write a post that incorporates all of the recurring features of the old "freak up your day" that I can remember. We'll kick it off with Ask Bensaki (tm). Ask Bensaki!

Dear Bensaki,

What is the big deal with Cinco de Mayo? And while we're at it, how big a deal is it exactly? Are we talking, like, a Louisiana Purchase-sized deal, or a Taco Tuesdays-sized deal? What can I get for half a dumpling?

Desperately,
Susan

Dear Susan,

Cinco de Mayo is like pants. Pants that you only wear once a year. So when you think about it, you're half-naked every other day of the year, but then when Cinco de Mayo comes, you're suddenly fully dressed! And that's pretty exciting. I'm sure you'd agree.

In regards to your question about sizes of deals, do you remember the New Deal? You might not have heard of it; it's fairly new. Anyway, take two New Deals, a square deal, and a banana peel, add them all together, and it should give you a deal about the size of Cinco de Mayo.

Half a dumpling will get you Dos And A Quarter de Mayo.

Dashingly,
Bensaki (tm)

Dear Bensaki,

What would it rule if?

Yours,
Troolie

Dear Troolie,

Great question. I will answer your question with a series of multiple choice questions, something of a magazine quiz, if you will. Whoever answers the most questions right wins a dump full of halflings.

Question 1: What would it rule if?
a) It would rule if my palm were a bestseller among palm readers. Oh, the royalties!
b) It would rule if Cinco de Mayo were also known as El Dia de los Pantalones.
c) It would rule if minstrels not only tasted like mint as their name suggests, but also minted coins in their pockets and gave them away! As it is, the only thing in their pockets is lint. Maybe we should call them linstrels.
d) It would rule if "All of the Above" were an answer, BUT IT'S NOT! Ho ho ha ha ha!

The correct answer was "d."

Question 2: What would it drool if?
a) ...a delicious aroma were wafted toward its nostrils.
b) ...it had a mouth shaped like a water spigot.
c) ...it were the Electric Disco Fencepost experiencing a mild case of childbirth.
d) ...it wanted the nickname "The Droolin' Fool" for some reason.

The correct answer was "pee."

Question 3: A long time ago, people used to ______.
a) entertain themselves on Saturday nights by whittling dynamite out of pieces of of nuclear bomb.
b) entertain themselves on Saturday nights by not realizing China was a word.
c) collect exercise equipment in hopes of becoming "treadmillionaires."
d) be a lot more "web-savvy."

The correct answer was "3."

Question Four Already: Would you hate me forever if I told you that pickup truck looks fat on you?
a) I'd hate you for as long as it worked out, but I'm just not ready to commit to a lifetime of that level of resentment yet.
b) I don't know, "hate" and "told" and "pickup" are such strong words...
c) Wait, back up. WHAT?
d) It's supposed to look fat on me. I want people to remember me as a hefty, truck-shaped person.

The correct answer was "it tolls for thee."

I hope that answers your question, Troolie. And to all you readers at home, I hope that starts your Cinco de Mayo off right. And to all you angry squirtgun snipers, I hope that gets you off my lawn.

Correspondingly,
Bensaki (tm)

2005-04-25T00:51:00.000-05:00

It Reeks of Mystique!

Jiminy-wha? Yes, you read right, folks, yolks, James K. Polks... Bensaki is back! ...terially infected. With a groove!

*busts out harmonica*

da neewww na newt
well i had this one weblog
da neewww na newt
and it made me go nuts
da neewww na newt
said i once had a pigeon
da neewww na newt
that had seven butts
da neewww na newt
oh i once had a dollar
da neewww na newt
that hated my guts
da neewww na newt
but now i'm back blogging
da neewww na newt
well ain't that just nuuuuuuuuuts? woh woh woh wooooooh....

Oh man, that song rocked. And it's all true, too. I'm here to bring you the freak once again like in the good old days of yore. I even went to the store and bought a case of yore! The yore will be flowing in the streets once again, my friends. The only difference, as you can already tell, is that I'm calling it Freak up your week, so as to lower expectations for myself. I figure I can write a quality post at least once a week, and I won't be under pressure to post every day that makes me scramble for ideas and write crappy crap.

You don't have to wait.. here's your first weekly freakup!

Your first weekly freakup!

Some people say oatmeal is a meal in itself. The same has been said of both cornmeal and I Can't Believe It's Not Baboon Helper. Scientific studies, on the other hand, have shown that oatmeal is only 4/7 meal and 3/7 oat. The word 'oatmeal,' that is. But what about oatmeal itself? Could one have a meal made entirely out of oats?!? The short answer is yes, if you hire an experienced sculptor. The long answer is as follows.

First of all, let's divide our meal into the five basic food groups: Grains, Meats, Salads, Desserts, and Somethings to Wash It Down With. Oatmeal is, of course, a grain, so you have that covered right off the bat. For the meat, you just have to find a spare G sitting around (this could be either a gangster or one thousand dollars, whichever is handier) and add it to the front of the word, and you have Goatmeal. Maybe not the choicest meat, but it's a lot better than Three-Toed Slothmeal.

Next on the list, if you skip around a bit, is Somethings to Wash It Down With. As anyone who's ever heard a joke before knows, in Canada the word "oat" is pronounced "oot," which is part of the words "root beer," so you have your beverage right there. Salad is easy, just take the packet the oatmeal came in, rip it into shreds, and pretend the shreds is lettuce. It really works.

Then all you have left is your Desserts. The obvious answer is oatmeal cookies. "But wait," the voice of reason whines, "you have no cookies, just oatmeal!" Well, come on. You cook the 'e' in 'oatmeal.' Cook 'e' = cookie! The snag is that you're left with Oatmal Cookies, but what are you gonna do? Isral has made do without an e in his name, and so can you.

So there's your long answer. Oatmeal is a meal in itself, a meal consisting of oatmeal, goatmeal, shredded oatmeal packet, oatmal cookies, and root beer. Now, if you're ever stranded on, um, oatmeal island, you'll be living in style. Unless you decide to build a boatmeal and escape.

I'll take my random Zep comment now, Bloke, thank you.

2005-02-28T14:22:00.000-06:00

Pi Pi Pi

Since i wasn't doing anything with the site, i decided to sell it to a newly formed Greek organization, Pi Pi Pi. The change will take place in the next few days. This will be the official website of the first fraternity dedicated to eating pie. Let me read you a few excerpts from their charter to give you an idea of what they're about and what you can expect from this site in the future.

(from page 16)
"...so once we had established our love for pie and our desire to express that love through on-campus housing, the only thing left to do was name our frat. We struggled with this for a while until one of our founding members pointed out that all the frats he remembered seeing in movies were named after three Greek letters. Kevin was like, "Yeah, man, we should totally do that too!" So we did. We were going to go with maybe three different letters, and like have Pi at the end to sort of emphasize it, but I thought, "Let's really hammer it home that we're all about pie." Yeah. So that's basically where it came from, Pi Pi Pi."

(from page 53)
"...but then we remembered that girls weren't allowed in fraternities. Girls have something called sobrieties or seniorities. I don't know much Greek, but I think the name for the girl group is derived from the idea that girls are supposed to mature faster than boys, so they have like "seniority" metaphorically speaking. Whereas "fraternity" is derived from the German farter, "to fart," which I think there's a lot of truth to.

Anyway, the no girls thing was a big problem, because as far as I can remember from biology, boys don't have the pie-baking gene. It broke off from the pie-eating gene somewhere in prehistoric times. So we were almost stuck for a while, because we would either have to get girlfriends who would bake us pies all the time and bring them over, or we would have to drop a whole bunch of money on store-bought pies, which aren't even as good. For a while we talked about bending the rules and letting girls into the frat, but it turned out none of them wanted to join anyway.

So how we finally solved the problem was we tried some gene therapy, which I learned in a biology lab one time. It's where you take cells from your cheek and extract the DNA (Description of Natural Attributes), and then we immersed the DNA in some pie filling so it could absorb the nucleus, or the nectar, or I forget the scientific term. It was working really well, and then Dean remembered he had a book that tells you how to make pie. So we decided to just use that, since gene therapy is kind of like playing God anyway."

So, i hope this will be a fitting introduction and welcome to what i hope will be a successful and storied organization. Good luck to them as they make their new home at bensaki.blogspot.com.

2005-02-14T03:27:00.000-06:00

Coffee-tainted Kool-Aid is not my cup of anything.

2005-02-09T17:34:00.000-06:00

I was in biology today and i thought of some anagrams for the word "biology." Here are the best ones:

oily bog
yo, i blog
i, log boy
go by oil

2005-01-17T23:41:00.000-06:00

It's over.

This is my last post. It shouldn't really come as a surprise to anyone, since i haven't posted in over a month now anyway. But i'm making it official. Bensaki has finished his day-freaking commission, as bestowed on him by the Duke of Stuff and the Electric Disco Fencepost, and he has been evicted from his small apartment high atop Bensaki International for not paying his debt to society. Flying frogs with Corn-Nut machinge guns are expected to hound his steps until he has clearly vacated the premises. I've been bogged down, tied up, and abandoned by artistic muses collectively.

I'm sorry to those i've disappointed, if any. I left up the links to blogs that are still being updated (i'm not the first to have abandoned one) and took down the book of guests, which was long inactive and had started to attract those robots that leave a link to some site and a fake name/comment. The cobwebs of the internet, those are. They're how you can tell you haven't dusted in a while.

So that's it. I should have said this a month ago so that people would have actually read it, but it's been a lot of fun. Thank you so much to everyone who read and commented, you made my day on so many occasions. Best of luck to you in everything, and keep on freaking on.

-Bensaki

2004-12-16T13:44:00.000-06:00

The phrase "self-proclaimed McRib fan" is redundant. Who else is going to proclaim you a McRib fan?

2004-12-09T10:16:00.000-06:00

Antique up your day

Okay look, butt-faces. I'm not going to give you a list of funny-sounding foreign names. I was never planning on it, and your insinuations that i would do something like that are both insulting and embarrassingly accurate. Therefore, i choose to spite you and your lowbrow senses of humor by denying you any funny-sounding names. You'll just have to go to lowestcommondenominator.com and find them yourselves.

Now permit me to ramble about something: Egg nog, which has to be the best nog i've ever tasted. Don't be suckered in by the proponents of paint nog. That stuff just doesn't sit well with anyone's digestive system, i don't care what they say. Some people don't like eggs, or at least that's what i've heard. Whatever, i say to them. The last thing we need is a bunch of people running around with their distaste for eggs hanging out. Keep it to yourself and drink the egg nog for the good of your country and mankind.

Oh, well never mind about the rambling, i guess. My train of thought was just interrupted by some clown playing Dashboard Confessional across the hall. The concept of the Dashboard Confessional, as you know, sprung from the traditional practice of cabbies and other drivers who would glue statues of Jesus or the virgin Mary on their dashboard. Over the years, this practice developped and expanded to include other elements of the Catholic mass, such as the console altar, the incense ball hanging from the rearview mirror, and eventually the Dashboard Confessional. In other cultures, this band is known alternately as Dashboard Meditation, Dashboard Mecca, and Dashboard Buddhaland. They were considering marketing it to the Amish community as Horse's Butt Confessional, but they were saved from this ill-advised scheme when they remembered that the Amish don't have any devices for listening to recorded music anyway.

So there you go. I didn't give you any funny-sounding foreign names, but i did make fun of the Amish, and i'd say that's on about the same level.

2004-12-07T09:49:00.000-06:00

Isral thinks his blog sucks

Come on, man. Mine is so much worse. I'm posting like once a week, and the stuff i do post is either not funny or really old and not funny. I'm surprised this blog hasn't degenerated into a big list of funny-sounding foreign names. I'm sure it's not too far off.

2004-12-03T13:24:00.000-06:00

Week After Day After Freaksgiving Sale!!

This was Isral's idea. He said the next time i was hard up for posts, i should post one of the old back-issue versions of the semi-fabled, extremely rare, deservedly unknown Bensaki Emails. These were pretty much what i wrote before i had a blog, so they're kind of in the same vein, only i sent them to people by email. Since pretty much only my friends read this blog, there's a good chance you've read this already, but for whatever reason, i'm posting it anyway. Enjoy.

the critics raved. the critics ranted. the critics were rabid. they had to be put to sleep. so bensaki continued on his million-dollar campaign to annoy everyone on his email list for his own personal amusement. now, before your grilled cheese ice cream sandwich gets stale, we will move on to today's illustrious topic of enlightenment. that topic is: the zucchini family tree. being educated squirrel monkeys, we all realize that it is quite important to have some background on the subject before flinging ourselves headlong into the vast gulf of enlightenment. so gather up your eating utensils and prepare to take a trip with me (in your mind, of course.). last week, using a spork and a rusty piece of a soda bottle, i dug up what appeared to be a zucchini. much to my surprise, it was. this interested me so much that i immediately got on the internet to research it and was promptly kicked off by Max von Cruusha, the owner of the computer, who also yelled at me for digging up his backyard. this set me back several days in my work, but also brings the story up to the current time, where we are now. that's enough background, i think.

you may be surprised to learn that the relationships between zucchinis and their relatives are much like those of humans. (i wasn't, but you may be.) after all, when you are green and forced to live in the same spot for all of your life, you need to have emotional support. i don't know this from experience, but it's pretty much common sense. there's not much more i can say, the research speaks for itself.

once again, it is time to catch up on all those crucial podiatrist appointments you may have missed. that's right, we have come to the end of our magnanimous velocity. so step around waxed floors, and for heaven's sake, wear a helmet when you're dusting those shelves! remember kids, bensaki sez, "when life gives you natural disasters, make soup."

~bensaki the effervescent

*DISCLAIMER: bensaki is a widely boycotted organization who wears socks on a regular basis.

2004-11-23T09:58:00.000-06:00

Hey, what happened to my rich uncle? You can't let the adventure end there, man! I either have to find the treasure or meet a terrible and unexpected fate! Jeez. If this were a real book, i wouldn't buy it.

2004-11-21T19:24:00.000-06:00

saki59: most of the people who are going to appleton are leaving monday, and i have tuesday classes
saki59: so if worse comes to worst, i'll just skip those classes and leave tomorrow
Lights0fHope: that sounds like the best coming to best to me

2004-11-19T13:27:00.000-06:00

Freak up the day, freak up the night. I can't see any reason to put up a fight.

To end the month-longish streak of no humorous posts whatsoever, i'm reinstating an old feature of mine. I now introduce you to the Pre-Thanksgiving edition of "It Would Rule If..." My thinking is that if all this stuff comes true in the next week, i'll have that much more to be thankful for on Thursday.

It would rule if...

-mathemeticians calculated severe beatings using flogarithms.

-humans had retractable claws. Come on, you know you've always wanted to climb the drapes.

-everyone ended up really liking my new Thanksgiving treat made of giblets and licorice. I call it gibberish.

-revenue increased for the Thanks Receiving department.

-they made slippers less slippery and with more traction. We could call them tractors.

-those soft drink volcanos i always see on tv were real.

-chocolate and dirt switched places in the world. Then "a kid in a candy store" and "a pig in mud" would no longer be equivalent expressions.

-the Italian and Hungarian languages set up some kind of vowel/consonant exchange to even things out.

-i had a deep fryer the size of the Pillsbury Doughboy.

-humans had a race of symbiotic creatures who happened to think that all the crap we throw out is delicious.

-there were an entire pumpkin pie in my mouth right now. Oh, what a sweet way to suffocate.

2004-11-16T14:03:00.000-06:00

Okay, i'm ordering a cd online and i need another one so i can get free shipping. There are a few i've been thinking about wanting, but i can't make up my mind. I've decided to ask you, my readers, the following question: what is one cd you think is absolutely essential to own, that you would recommend to me or anyone without hesitation? Try and respect the "one cd" limit, but if you absolutely can't, i'll understand. Defend your choice if you want. We can get a good discussion going here.

2004-11-11T22:07:00.000-06:00

You're a girl, or maybe a wagon filled up with pancakes.

For some reason, when i tell people my name for the first time, many of them think i'm saying "Matt." What is it about the way i talk that makes it sound like that? Then, the more i repeat my actual name (and the more they respond "yeah, i heard you. Matt.") the stranger my voice sounds to me and the more unable i seem to be to speak correctly. I start feeling like my throat is all blocked up and i'm talking through a wall of phlegm. My vowels start to sound more nasal than the entire country of France getting indignant all at once. "Maybe my name really is Matt," i start to think. The next time anyone who reads this talks to me in person, could you clue me in on exactly what kind of weirdo i sound like? Thanks. This has happened more than five times by now.

2004-11-11T01:26:00.000-06:00

Someone needs to buy clogspot.com and turn it into a supersite for all things Netherlands. I nominate you. Go!

2004-11-09T23:26:00.000-06:00

I've got a squealing, a squealing cheap and fried, oh yeah.

Today i can't think of any good lies, so i'm going to tell the truth. Sorry for how embarrassingly boring that is.

My roommate is listening to some Gandhi-awful 16th century choral excretion that he hates and complains about daily, and i'm blaring Ween in my headphones to drown it out. How Ween can traverse so many genres and sounds in one album is beyond me; they are so beautiful at times, and so scary at others, and hilarious and fun at others. Hot dag. I guess it makes sense, considering all the drugs. If they'd had all those genres and drugs back in the 16th century, i bet my roommate would be happier and i wouldn't have to wear headphones.

I've developed a drug habit of my own lately, an embarrassingly nerdy and embarrassing habit i can't believe i even got into: checklists. I write out (insert vulgar adjective of choice) checklists of all the stuff i have to do today. I realize how intolerably responsible and anal this is, and i write "Commence self-loathing" as the next list entry. It's ridiculous how compelling it is to make the little checky mark after doing something. I'm turning into a goal-oriented person and it's scorching my innards. Disgusting. Somebody needs to bash me over the head with a video game.

My shoes smell bad and i hate a lot of things, among which are shoes that smell bad. The only other thing i can think of that i hate is whiny paragraphs. This paragraph is so whiny. I hate it.

Yesterday i wrote my first article for the school newspaper, a review of a faculty art exhibit that ruled. I hope i did it justice. I'd also like to do justice to the new Starflyer ep i got in the mail on friday, but i don't think i'd be able to. It was lots of fun to get a limited edition ep that's only available in the mail. It shows great promise for the upcoming album, which is one of the top two musical things i have to look forward to next year, the other being Mike Doughty's new album finally coming out. I've listened to live versions of his new songs so many times since last spring that his new album is already one of my favorites and it's not even done yet.

I wish Clare wasn't so busy, for her sake and mine, although she does make time to see me for at least a short while every day, which i love. I wish i was more articulate and could tell her how perfect she is and all the little things i appreciate about her. They always sound dorky when i think them so half the time i don't even try. How does anyone ever say how they feel or what they think? It's beyond me.

I'm an english major, too. I smell internal conflict in the future. Time to go write a checklist.

2004-11-04T10:43:00.000-06:00

Maybe there's a reason that horsehair and catgut never meet in nature.

2004-11-02T14:17:00.000-06:00

Reek up your freak

Yesterday we ran out of vember. There's none left. There was an abundant supply about six months ago, in May, and we harnked it up like a fossil fuel since then, until yesterday when we plain ran out. Poor timing, too, since it doesn't start growing again until the first of December. Until then, we'll just have to live with this vemberless state we've put ourselves in.

In other news, todaybor day is election day. If you think about civic duty as though it's a class, i'm probably failing it. I mean, i showed up for the exam today, but i hadn't studied very hard, so i only recognized like three of the questions. Shame on me. And it was all multiple choice, too.

For Halloween i dressed up as a cardinal. The catholic sort, not the aviary. I wore the costume twice, and both times someone wanted to photograph me standing between two sexily costumed women. It's a pretty funny idea for a picture, really, but it might have the unfortunate side effect of making people think i have some inordinate degree of mojo. Which i don't, it was just the costume. Anyway, i had fun bestowing blessings on people left and right and being seen with my suspected mistress, Little Red Riding Hood. Halloween can be just as fun when you grow up, as long as you have the whimsy for it.

2004-10-29T01:20:00.000-05:00

I'll up your dates!

Yeah, yeah, i haven't updated in over a week, i haven't been funny in over a month, the price of eggs is rising at an alarming rate, bla bla bla. Shut up, both of you. I'm only here to drop a quick update that i previously promised, because i'm rapidly becoming way too cool for the whole "daily posting" trip. (editorial note: yeah, who am i kidding? I'll tell you who. I'm kidding you.) I don't have the plague or anything. I don't even have the plaque. Some of you spent a few years too many in Overreacting School.

Anyway, pertaining to the essay i posted on sunday, oct. 17 (aka the last decent post i wrote): I got my grade back today, and it was a 2 out of 2. Victory. Victory of sorts, at least. There were no comments of any sort, which is what i was sort of hoping for, but whatever. At least he saw what i was getting at and gave me a good grade.

If you want, i'll post sometime in the next couple days about the horrible gruesome episode of Leonardo DiCaprio coming to our school, or some other topic if you can think of one. If no one says anything, i'll assume no one wants to hear anything, so i'll post all sorts of stuff just to get on everyone's nerves. Yeah, you wish.

Thanks for reading and stuff. See you in a couple days.

2004-10-20T23:49:00.000-05:00

Some funny things that other ~~people~~ person say

"I'm a Capricorn on the Zodiac but a cancer on society."
-CV, from his Human Writes Violations site

there's some great stuff on there. i've always been a fan of this guy's writing.

2004-10-20T19:36:00.000-05:00

Big freaking midterms the next two days. Wish me some lucks.

2004-10-19T13:27:00.000-05:00

Freak Havoc

I don't want to encourage chaos. It sounds like fun until you get an image of yourself in noisy and echoing racquetball court, hard rubber balls speeding past you at all angles, in a constant wince from the impossibility of seeing on all sides of you at once, and incurably conscious of the back of your skull as an inevitable target. I just think it would be refreshing if everything got out of its rut for a little while every so often. Just for maybe a week every couple of years to see what would happen. I know that it's possible to get yourself out of your own rut with a little ambition, but that's not really fair to you. You hoist yourself up over the edge, but the rest of the world is trying to maintain its inertia and will overpower you. I mean everything and everyone should start doing something different, just in case it works better.

I know this has been suggested by other people all sorts of times before, but i've never suggested it, so i thought i'd try it to find out what happens. Hehe. Now i'll know.

2004-10-19T13:25:00.000-05:00

The implications are scandalous.
The reversals are fearsome.

2004-10-17T18:01:00.000-05:00

I really really apologize for what i'm about to do. I never ever post these ultra-annoying online quiz results things, and this will be the last one I ever post, so help me Gandhi. But Homsar is my all-time favorite, and i'm very happy to have gotten him through honest dealing without trying to rig the results. Plus, if Homestar Runner isn't a worthy quiz subject, then nothing is. So here you go.

Take the Homestar Runner Character Quiz by Coach Vee!

2004-10-17T16:01:00.000-05:00

Short Answer Question 5. Due 10/18, 9am.
Due date : Monday, 18 October 2004, 09:00 AM (1 day 12 hours)
Maximum grade : 2

Compose a 400-500 word essay on the following topic:

What happens when theory and evidence collide in international politics?

A curious thing happens when Theory and Evidence collide in International Pontiacs. If it is a minor collision, they pull over to the side of the road, gingerly, step out and inspect the damage from a few paces back, not saying anything at first. After a discreet interval, Theory breaks the silence and says, “You know, there are all kinds of ways we could explain this. Perhaps a small animal ran out into the road in front of you, and you swerved and hit me. Or perhaps there was an icy patch on the asphalt that caused one or the other of us to temporarily lose control. It could also be that the lines are painted poorly, and that caused us to collide.” There is another short pause, the two of them scratch their heads and crouch down near the fenders to get a closer look, and Evidence counters, “Yes, I suppose we could accept any of those explanations. But we both know they are not true. I can smell your breath, sir, I can see the stumbling way you have been walking, and furthermore, I see several empty bottles on your passenger’s seat. The fact is, Mr. Theory, you are impaired.” They may argue for a while after this, and Theory may make some half-hearted arguments in his own defense, but it is clear who is right in this situation.
So Evidence, with a clear head, prevails, and the law comes to take Theory away for correction and improvement, to make him a better and more responsible person.

If it is a major collision, on the other hand, there is a chance that one of the two may not survive. Theory might be thrown from the car by the force of Evidence, mangled beyond recognition, never to be heard from again, and another would have to take his place. Or it might happen that the friends of Theory come to his rescue and hide the body of Evidence before it should be discovered. In any case, it is easier for everyone when Theory and Evidence can coexist and support each other, but this obviously cannot always be the way it is.

*the best part about this essay is that i actually handed it in, exactly how it's printed here. am i cool or what?

2004-10-16T20:01:00.000-05:00

Look out, Anonymi!

Lately i have noticed several or one anonymous people or person are or is posting comments on here. I don't have a problem with that in principle, really. As one of the Anonymous Terrors said, i might not even know these people, so it doesn't matter what their names are. It's just that i can never tell whether it's always the same anonymous person posting every time, or a bunch of them posting once. So here's my request. If you're going to post anonymously, you should make up a really funny fake name, or a not funny fake name if you want. Then if you use the same one every time, i can make a connection between each post by each anonymous person. Or if there's only one of you, just say you're something like Peabody or Kawasaki McBean or... um, whatever you want to be, i guess. This isn't a big deal, really, i just think it would be fun to have mysterious personas floating around the place. Rock twice.

2004-10-16T02:40:00.000-05:00

Some Titles Have Nothing But Words In Them

So there was this salamander. He would creep around a lot, and all the lizards would call him creepy. It was sort of hypocritical of them, being lizards and creepy themselves, but i guess lizards don't really have a problem with hypocrisy. Anyway, there were other times, specifically times when I was using the past tense in my story, when the salamander crept around and the lizards called him crepty. They would then have all these debates about what the correct term was, sometimes very heated debates, after which they would have to lay low for a while and chill out, you know, because they were cold-blooded and all, and they didn't want their heads to boil and turn into brain soup and the brain soup to accidentally run down their throat so that they were actually consuming their own brains, because it's not like lizards have a biological mechanism that allows digested brain matter to be returned through the bloodstream to the skull cavity intact or anything. The salamander would use these pauses in the discussion to creep around unobserved, basking in the knowledge that no one was talking about him behind his back, just as the lizards were basking in the knowledge that no one was sipping their liquefied brains behind their backs. They were very peaceful times, these pauses in the discussion. Peaceful and baskful.

It was quite amazing how most of this went on unobserved by the human eye. (That's right, i said "the human eye." Back in those days, there was only one human eye. Everyone had to take turns with it.)

One day after one of these conversational lapses, while the lizards were in their usual reflective mood, thinking about brain soup, one of them decided there might be a market for the stuff, especially if they convinced everyone it was a delicacy and that it would add bulk to your own brain by way of some biological mechanism. They started hunting for other brain-bearing things to plunder of organs, and they each pitched in a little chunk of their own brain to be fair. It was pretty creepy.

The salamander, who had been keeping an eye on the whole operation, bought half their stock on their first day in business. He sat around drinking it in the afternoons while sitting on a branch above the one the lizards sat on and chuckling to himself. It was pretty creepy also.

So the ultimate question here is: who was creepier, and who, if anyone, was creptier? And do you think crepes would have helped?

2004-10-12T23:39:00.000-05:00

Not a freak, just another rant...*grumble*

I'm so whiny today, i can't even stand myself.

Amazon is a crappy place to find new music. I've spent a couple hours over the past few days looking for music i might like, via Amazon's many "similar artists" and "people who bought x also bought y" features. Yeah, more like people who bought this also made several random one-click purchases by letting a chimp handle the mouse for a while. Seriously, i looked up just about every cd that i own and like at the moment to see what other cds they recommended, and i listened to sample clips from a bunch of them, none of which sounded half as good as the cd i owned that led me to the recommendation. I got frustrated. Then it dawned on me. When i looked at the "people who bought x also bought y" thing, there was never another cd that I "also bought," unless it was by the same band. In theory, they should have recommended at least a few cds i already have, because that's kind of the point. The system is bunk, i declared, and went on searching anyway.

Oh, and there's another thing: the customer reviews. At first i thought these were great, a whole bunch of perspectives from people who had listened to the album. Then after a while i realized that almost every album i looked at was rated 4 and a half stars out of 5 by the customers and given largely favorable reviews. The second dawn dawned on me (if you're keeping track, i've now stayed up two nights in a row): the only people who write album reviews on Amazon, for the most part, are fans of that album. There are far more fans willing to put in a good word for an album than there are dissenters who will take the time to warn you against buying it. I mean, if you don't like an album, why waste your time? Unless you really, really hate it, (which some people did) in which case your review will be clouded by anger and very subjective. So the customer reviews are worthless.

All that to say that it's a bad way to look for new music. I'm out of good ways. Someone with similar musical tastes needs to come along and introduce me to some stuff i haven't heard before, because the only one who closely shares my tastes is my girlfriend, and she's out of ideas too.

2004-10-11T21:56:00.000-05:00

The Very Hand That Once Spoon-Fed You Will One Day Fork-Feed You, And Grudgingly At That

Woo hoo. So i'm going for the pretentious indie and/or hardcore band song title thing with my title. You know it rocks with the furor of a thousand shrieking vampires riding black winged wolves on rivers of blood into the night. Don't deny it.

Ah, there's nothing like having to write an essay to make you turn in avoidance to writing a post on your long-neglected blog, which you couldn't be bothered to do in any other situation. Really, i'm sorry i haven't been freaking up anyone's day. I've been a freeloader of sorts (freakloader?), freaking up my own day by stringing together bits and pieces of punnery from elsewhere, too selfish to share a scrap or contribute my own paltry freakage to the mix. Unconcerned with the freakitude of anyone's day but my own. Flog me if you must. Frog me if you dare. I'll try to change my ways, to right the wrong, to turn a new leaf, to string as many clichés as i can muster in one sentence.

Today's piece will be a short little piece entitled "A Short Little Piece Entitled 'Trevor.'" Trevor was a freelance writer of haiku and syndicated answering machine messages. He won the occasional obscure award and brought home the occasional bacon, some of which was turkey. His most celebrated work, an ingenious mingling of his duel professions, was the seminal "Haiku for the Unanswered Telephone," which reads,

I am not at home.
Leave your name and number, please
Following the beep.

After the immense popularity of this poem, Trevor overreacted to his newfound fame, failing to channel his success into new and more exploratory work. Instead, he tried to duplicate his one shining moment by writing an entire volume of answering machine haiku and releasing it in installments on his own answering machine. The art community found this simultaneously too experimental and too repetetive (the art community was on some unhealthy combination of Ritalin and Prozac) and Trevor was an outcast.

That's it. That's the whole story. Yeah, i wish it had a happy ending too, but it happens to be a true story and that's just what happened, ok? You think this ending is a cop-out? It's not! It's the truth! Or at least, if not the truth, it's a new and experimental method in the art of storytelling. I call it "Satisfaction through Dissatisfaction." I write an unsatisfying ending, and i'm satisfied with the amount of time it took me to write it. What more could i ask for?

By the way, if you think of any good answering machine haiku, you should post them. We can make it like a contest. Yeah.

2004-10-07T14:20:00.000-05:00

My favorite quote from rehearsal last night:

"Jeffrey Dahmer was the Unabomber."

2004-10-05T18:48:00.000-05:00

Squalor.

(that's... that's it. that's the whole post.)

2004-10-03T19:58:00.000-05:00

p.s.: tonight's my first improv show. wish me lucks.

2004-10-03T14:02:00.000-05:00

Rock Like a Norwegian

Olaf is a ridiculous concert venue. I feel sorry for any band that comes to play here, with the exception of the "Big Fall Concert" headliner, whose career usually doesn't need any help. Every other band has to play to an audience of twelve who just stand there. It's no fun to play to an audience of twelve who just stand there. If I were a local indie band trying to make it, or at least trying to play cool shows and feel like real musicians, a show in the Lion's Pause would all but kill my momentum. But anyway, back to the Big Fall Concert. This year, last night, it was Ben Folds, a mostly mellow piano man with just enough spunk and rebellion to make a gym full of Minnesotan college kids feel like they're at a real rock show. Don't get me wrong, I respect Ben Folds; his song "Rockin' the Suburbs" is one of the finest pieces of satire I've ever heard. And he put on a pretty good show. His band was on, he was entertaining and he played to the crowd, which his years of touring have surely taught him to do. (His only mistake, really, was covering "Get Your Hands Off My Woman," which has a catchier melody than any Ben Folds song and just made me want to go listen to the Darkness. Covering the Darkness is a feat that should only be attempted by someone with a better falsetto than Justin Hawkins, which is nobody. Why point yourself out as an inferior vocalist?) The point is, as Clare pointed out, he was the perfect person to play a concert at St. Olaf, which is a sad reflection of the cultural apathy and general meekness of the place, as were the six or seven fists pumping to such lyrical revelations as "ba-da-bum bum." If we ever got anyone truly ground-breaking to play here, no one would show up.

Not that I'm all enlightened or revolutionary either. But at least I recognize the problem. And I'm trying, so help me, I'm trying. Thank the benevolent heart of Jason Martin for the upcoming Pedro the Lion/Starflyer 59 show in Minneapolis.