Fantasy Football Recap #5

 Happy Nordic Week in the ARNEson Fantasy Football League!

Arne means “eagle” in old Norse terminology but we’re not talking about the team in Philly – this family bleeds purple and gold with their Nordic brethren. It’s a regular Vikingfest (not the TV show, much to the chagrin of all you Skarsgard heads out there) in Week 10 of the league as Captain Kirk takes home the 15 prize while his team’s namesake gains his first Monday Night Football victory and a big win in the playoff push for the hometown Vikes. Someone (preferably of the Norwegian persuasion) needs to put Matt Nagy and da Bears on a majestic ship, ignite that ship in flames and push it down the Chicago River and into the unforgiving, frigid plumes of Ol’ Gusty, Lake Michigan because that team is as good as two yards under at this point. Purple People Eaters, another trusty devotee of the Twin City Men of the North, scores a big time 13 as he continues to threaten the throne of the Tenacious Warrior. Hawkeyes (who might as well go by Golden Gophers this week), has penned 10,000 love letters to the football squad of the 10,000 lakes (as well as dying 10,000 tragic deaths unto them) and thus comes up with another win to stay in the hunt for perfection as does Pink (nay Purple) Panthers, a secret lover of Minnesota sports. Fantasy Football Team sinks back a bit as she drops a game to Hawkeyes, the Viking mojo being too all-encompassing. 

VIKINGman (that’s just too easy) takes home the pool picks as his beloved Purple Players win him the week with a 10-spot Monday night. Whammy and Minnesota Moose advance in Survivor with non-Viking related picks.

Beavis - Holy Toledo

Beavis - Pond

Beavis - Kobe

Beavis - Green Out

Fantasy Football Recap #4

 This Halloween-themed recap is spoooooookily belated! A Purple People Eater is not only a killer costume idea - it’s also a pretty good fantasy football squad that’s vying for first place after a MONSTER week. Dalvin Cook is perhaps the greatest running back in all the Milky Way. MT Moose ekes out a victory Monday Night after a mild-mannered accountant named Rex Burkhead dresses up as a New England Patriot running back and scares the bejesus out of an unsuspecting Jets D, sending Hawkeyes back to Earth on his birthday (42 years old!). Kyler Murray may be a running back playing a quarterback (disguised as another dude!) as he has another huge week on the ground for Pink Panthers, putting Katie in the pole position to overthrow the king. 

Speaking of the devil, the Tenacious One squeezes out another win despite his Seahawks tandem looking creepily mediocre (shout out Michael Crabtree) in Buffalo, a town that has often been described as such by people not of the chicken wing persuasion. In a matchup that no one cares about (including the participants), Viking Man edges WHAMMY as Cam Newton attempts to recapture his MVP days against a Jets team that makes Drew Lock look like an MVP. Our trusty Captain Commish takes home the pool picks while Moose and WHAMMY advance in Survivor despite a mysterious rising from the dead zombie threat by A&O. 

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A Totally Honest Review of When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris

 I love how sassy David Sedaris is. He could slap you in the face and you would be like, “That’s so insightful – what an interesting point of view. Yes, I do believe my nose is broken but god dang…that guy can put a pen to paper. That dude knows how to scrawl a story, alright.” Sedaris, a middle-aged wunderkind, literary powerhouse, is the kind of author who you want to be your friend and not just because if you got on his bad side, he’d roast the heck out of you in a scathing, charming essay. He makes smoking weed seem professorial – his elbow patches are made of hemp and fluffy daydreams. He’s the most multi-cultured guy from North Carolina. He enjoys the simpler things in life. He’s the Most Interesting Gay Man in the World. 

David Sedaris might be my favorite writer. He’s so poignant, he always has a unique perspective, his words are mostly simple yet wise. He writes about mundane things and makes them seem like the fate of the universe depends upon them. He lends authenticity and gravity to his work – it feels like he respects whoever is reading it. He’s just a great, talented penman. 

If you’ve had the pleasure of reading one of Sedaris’s books, you don’t need me to tell you all this - you’re already aware of his LeBron-ish tendencies amongst those who write autobiographical, personal essays. I can’t imagine someone reading him and not loving it – maybe they would think he was aloof or they’re from Boston and are like, “You think you’re better than me?” The truth is YES – David Sedaris probably is better than you and most other people on the planet not named LeBron. Especially if you’re from Boston (shots fired at a city I’ve never been to).

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A Totally Honest Review of Paddle Your Own Canoe by Nick Offerman

A sometimes douchey, somewhat heartwarming, other times infuriating memoir by that deadpan dude on the Parks TV show with the mustache. Nick Offerman seems like a nice fella and his storytelling and heart shines through when he writes about his beloved actor wife Megan Mullally or his love of carving objects out of wood. I agree with his premise that people should get down and dirty more often (both metaphorically and literally) and get outside more and breathe in more sweet fresh air and not stare at their phones. He does come off as a little anti-TV for a guy who we only know who he is because of TV. He has the swagger of a man who built his own house because he could and probably would have if he wasn’t sitting on all that sweet Peacock cash. He uses lots of rich verbiage and words that you might not recognize unless your last name is Merriam or Dictionary.

Offerman comes from a theater background, which I bet most of his fans didn’t know, seeing how he looks like a guy who would menace the heck out of a theater nerd. He professes his love of theater thoroughly throughout the book - it’s like, we get it, you’re a cool jock AND accepting of geeks. Shakespeare, backstage, some other insider terminology, yada yada yada – BORING. I just cannot wrap my meathead around the allure of the THEATRE (you gotta spell it like a British dork if you want people to take you seriously or not seriously, depending on your point of view). I can’t think of anything I would rather do less than go to Hamilton – I would pay $2 grand to NOT go to Hamilton. Everyone pretends when it comes to the theatre – especially the audience being “interested”. I’ve seen some great audience actors – one dude didn’t even check his fantasy football team til intermission. 

Offerman is a paradox of a man – tireless woodworker, sensitive theatre geek, obsessed with his wife who’s 11 years older than him and was already Will and Grace-famous when they met. I would urge any Parks and Rec diehards out there to read this book to get the full picture of the man behind the mustache - he’s so much more than a gruff expression painted over a flannel. 

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Diary Diarrhea

 Happy Sunday afternoon! It’s another great week of NFL football - I’m currently watching the Seahawks play the Bills in Buffalo. They’re down a touchdown near the end of the 3rd quarter. I hope the Seahawks win because I picked them for the highest amount of points in our confidence pool picks for fantasy football. I always do that, though, cuz I’m a shameless Seahawks homer. At the same time, I have the Bills young quarterback Josh Allen and rookie running back Zack Moss so I want those guys to do good but I want the Seahawks to win in a shootout. Josh Allen started the season playing like Tom Brady but has looked more like Brady Quinn the past few weeks.

I started reading the book 1984 this morning and right after I began, the internet stopped working and the TV froze for a while. The timing was impeccable – it was like Big Brother was watching me and broke the fourth wall of the book. The internet mysteriously not working seems like a 1984-esque thing that would happen. It felt like I was wielding some sort of literary superpower – maybe I’ll read Hugh Hefner’s biography next. I took the downtime as an opportunity to shave, sculpt and shape my illustrious mustache that would make Ron Swanson stub his toe on a home-carved canoe in jealousy. Then the internet came back and I was like, “It was kinda nice not being able to watch TV or use the internet for a bit. It was like we went camping for a half hour without going anywhere (but I was still craving s’mores and took a poop in the backyard – just kidding, I don’t like marshmallows.)” 

*Listen to my podcast to hear my audio diarrhea*

My mom just asked when the Seahawks play even though I was watching the game on TV. I was like, “Huh?”. That drives me crazy – you can see the TV too, right? Have I just been imagining that I was watching the Seahawks game this whole time? I don’t like when people brag about not watching TV - it’s like, good for you – do you want a trophy? How about one that’s shaped like a TV and streams audiovisual content on a variety of channels. There’s a difference between watching a Pawn Stars marathon and a football game – my point is, there’s a lot of garbage TV out there (There’s definitely a few shows based on garbage people, probably on Discovery or Spike or truTV. And I’m looking at you, TLC, you’re not getting away that easy – TLC is for people who enjoy circus freaks but don’t like cotton candy – they just want the freaks streamed into their living room. They want to be the Simon Cowell of circus freaks. Speaking of cotton candy, what if the slaves were picking cotton candy instead of cotton? They’d probably still be pissed but at least their whole experience would be all the more delicious (although they would have the constant annoyance of sticky fingers, which sounds like a metaphor for a thief but no, they would literally have some of the stickiest fingers in town)...meet Reginald Chapman III, owner of the largest cotton candy plantation in all the south. The insulation in his estate is cotton candy…his estate is actually a gingerbread house. He gets asbestos from breathing in too much colorful sugar.)

 I don’t consider sports to be a waste of time to watch on TV, though, especially when you read some of your book (1984 or Naked by David Sedaris or the My Favorite Murder book – I like reading multiple books at once - it’s like flipping the channel, in TV lingo) or write a blog entry while you’re doing it. Is anything really a waste of time if you enjoy it and it’s not hurting anyone? Also, sports are always fun to watch because it’s great watching people who are the best in the world at their sport compete against other people who are some of the other best ones. Sports reflect life in their competitiveness and ruthlessness and emotion and teamwork and pride. I love sports (soccer is aightttttt – definitely not in my top five but I would watch some World Cup games cuz those dudes are pretty good with their feet but I wouldn’t call it “The beautiful game” by any means – basketball is more beautiful in my estimation, what with the alley oops and the looping jump shots from well beyond the arc and that thing where LeBron throws a poof of chalk in the air…that’s just fantastic.) 

Anyway, the Seahawks are gonna lose but my Bills fantasy guys were pretty solid – so it’s a win-lose. It’s like a stupid soccer tie – yuck. 

Candy Rankings

 1. Milky Way

2. Reese’s 

3. Musketeers 

4. Whoppers

5. Big Macs

6. Red Vines

7. John

8. Snickers 

Last. Twizzlers

Fantasy Football Recap #3

 Make the AFFL great again!

HUGE wins this week for Hungry Hawkeyes and Powerful Pink Panther. A lot of people are saying these teams could WIN the league…just tremendous stuff. Towering Tenacious D is sweating bullets as these two great Americans are hot on his tail. Another AWESOME victory for Phenomenal Purple People Eaters as he’s near the top – I do NOT endorse cannibalism in any form, unlike my opponent. Not many people have heard about it but Sleepy Joe Biden was the pilot of the INFAMOUS Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 back in 1972…truly despicable, just disgusting stuff. People eating people (not to mention, NOT from America) – Ewwwwww!

Roaring Redskins Football Team is still in it too – hold on we’re not saying that word anymore? YUCK! Native Americans are a great people and their vote matters just as much as a White or a Black or one of the other ones – God bless the Redskin Native Indians. 

In other (FAKE) news, Woeful WHAMMY won the pool picks and survives the Survivor along with Mighty MT Moose, both selecting the Redskin Chiefs over the (Private) Jets. 

Thank you my fellow Americans – this was a BIG week.

Pondering Great Falls, Montana

 - When people say “Down to Earth” or “Salt of the Earth”, this is the Earth they speak of – people here are so humble they’re actually “Below the Earth” – they have subterranean kindness

- People are nice but they have no choice – no one would stay if they were like New Yorkers – the only people who walk like they’re in NYC are on meth

- Everyone has a dog but no one walks it – they just drive it around town – the only walk the dog gets is to the car – dogs bark at you as you walk by cuz they wanna walk with you – they’re saying “Take me with you!” – is it legal for dogs to drive cars in GF?

- People have a combo of Boston “You think you’re better than me?” mixed with rugged frontier individualism and a Hawaiian pace of life

- Are there sober people here? Do they just melt into the dead grass? Are they so bored that they write great volumes of literature?

- Do people wear masks here just so no one can see that they’re in GF?

- 90% of GF is elderly, fat or has a mullet or some combination of the 3 – what percent of Theo Von’s fan base lives here?

- Sam’s Club sounds like the worst night club ever – “We got pallets on pallets! Dance pallets! Do the Shopping Cart Shuffle!”

- Does anyone move here or do people just wake up like Jason Bourne and start a life?

- Everyone has a pickup truck but no one would help you move (just kidding – people here are nice so they’d help you move – no one moves, though)

- Does someone assign people to move to GF? Who’s the Montana overlord? They probably chew tobacco and wear a cowboy hat unironically 

- Why can’t Grandpa hear anything you say the first time? Is he listening to a podcast in his hearing aids?

- Why is it so windy here? Is the air trying to escape GF too?

- Do you live in GF or does GF live in you? Is it contagious? Is GF the original Covid? Is the West coast the vaccine? 

A Totally Honest Review of The Office book by Andy Greene

 What I learned from The Office book:

1. Steve Carrell is a GAWD. Don’t ever cross this saint or he’ll kill you with kindness. He once rode a bicycle with a flat tire into the Grand Canyon to rescue an ailing Golden Retriever puppy. His tears are made of lemonade. When life gives him lemons, he cries. 

2. Greg Daniels is a TV savant who worked on many of your favorite shows and seems like a normal comedic genius.

3. There’s a bunch of characters on The Office that you don’t remember and might not even recognize if they walked up to you at the mall and told you they were on The Office and handed you a stapler (to confirm that they were, in fact, on The Office cuz everyone knows all the actors from the show carry around a stapler at all times – Rainn Wilson even has one of those trench coats that drug dealers have but when he opens it it’s staplers and mini staplers and tape and paper clips and Gorilla Glue and all the standard fare from the workplace) – you wouldn’t believe them and would report them to the sitcom authorities. There are too many characters on The Office. 

4. No one was famous before the show and now everyone is famous from the show – John Krasinski and Steve Carrell win the race to most famous though.

5. Speaking of John Krasinski, he’s a real down-to-earth dude who used to play video games and hang out and the crew thought he was nice and approachable. Some may call him a young Steve Carrell but with more bangs and guffaws. 

6. Michael Scott was irreplaceable – he was Jordan to The Office’s Chicago Bulls. Creed was Phil Jackson. Dwight was Pippen. Jim was Steve Kerr. Pam was Steve Kerr’s wife. Andy was Toni Kukoc. Phyllis was a cheerleader.

7. The show is tied to reality TV – the camera guys came from Survivor. The Office is like Survivor but Jeff Probst is the fax machine and no one ever leaves the show and there’s no helicopter rides and the only island is in the kitchen.

8. The Office is the best show ever and you become a cooler person having watched the entire series multiple times (at least according to The Office fan cults). 

A Totally Honest Review of The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

First I’m gonna guess the cast (or at least just cast the show myself) - I haven’t looked it up, I swear.

Eleanor - Emma Stone Theodora - Amanda Seyfried Luke - Chris Hemsworth Doctor - Bradley Whitford

Mrs. Montague - Meryl Streep Arthur - Willem Dafoe

Alright I just looked it up and it’s a bunch of random people I’ve never heard of, oh and Carla Gugino. 

That was a fun exercise - anyway, I just finished this book and it was pretty good - a solid page-turner. It’s tough to get scared by a book though cuz you can just put it down and look out the window or go grab some string cheese, which is a definitively unscary treat. I think the best way to watch a horror movie is in theaters cuz then you’re all in on the experience and it’s dark in the theater and just a good environment for surprise scares and sudden loud noises and you can throw your popcorn all over the row in front of you and blame it on being startled. You gotta concentrate real hard on a book if you wanna get scared by it or you could read it in an abandoned Albertsons at midnight. 

I also enjoyed reading a book that was published before my parents were born - in 1959. It’s interesting to see how people talked and wrote differently in another time - don’t get confused when they say things are gay. It feels like you’re reading a time capsule that was discovered, buried beneath a pile of Twilight fan fiction in a Borders Books (just googled it and turns out Borders closed its business in 2011 - guess they went the way of the Dodo book...is that what Doctors Without Borders is all wrapped up about?) 

Good book, fun read, appropriate holiday timing.

Grade: A-

Fantasy Football Wrap-up #2

 Oh Preston, my Preston

Why hast thou drop thy hammer on thy league like a mighty oaf laying waste to, beset upon, beside thou over a tender turkey leg on the annual Givingthanks? 

Who shall, nay might take it upon thy being to step up to the plate, take a few good hacks and knock good sir Preston off thy podium?

Be it Lady Miss Pink Panther, led into battle by young sir Kyle(r) of the Allen, Texas Murrays, wielder of dual-bladed battle axe, legs of a centaur, arm of an ox and mind of a brilliant ox.

Be it gentleman Hawkeye, keeper of Derrick of Henry, roller of Tide, bender of limb of defender and signer of monster contract extension.

Be it Purple Eater of Man, thine tight end drawn to the evil forces of reality television, polluter of innocent mind, provider of fortune for sirs Probst and Seacrest.

Or perhaps be it Fantasy Football Team, thine quarterback a champion of Super proportions, saint Patrick, surely thy Eagles and Jets wish young saint Patrick would doth thou green.

The remainder of the league watches on from thou’s abodes, twiddling thy thumbs and dreaming of a championship trophy on thy mantle, the whistle of the teapot bringing them back to thy present moment, before thou realizes thou hast no more tea bags, but Safeway awaits, aisles of tea bags of all kind populating thy shelves, decaf too. 

Perry the Pig

Perry’s favorite sport was football. His mom and dad always told him that they used the skin of his pig peers to make the football but that couldn’t deter his love of the game. 

“Red 71! Bald eagle! Blink 182!” Perry’s parents would hear him yelling quarterback quips in his room (which his mom liked to refer as “a bit of a pigsty”). 

Perry even went out for the school football team at Crusader High but lost the starting quarterback competition to Dale Chapman. Perry got the last laugh, though, cuz he got Dale’s girl - Kylie Dakota - the lead cheerleader for the Cheetahs. When Kylie laid eyes on Perry at the school field trip to the local farm, it was all over for poor Dale, left clawing at his ex’s elbow figuratively and literally for a bit. When the coaches told Perry to “Be the ball”, he knew what they meant more than anyone else on that field.

His favorite player was Tom Brady (even though he took the air out of some of his friends and almost murdered them). One time, he was at a New England Patriots game with his mom and dad, wandering around the bowels of the stadium when a mysterious hooded but sleeveless figure snatched him into the shadows. Coach Belichick wrestled Perry to the ground and tossed him into a state of the art Football Making Machine. 

The machine whirred and bumped along, clunking and kerchunking as various numbers and digital codes flashed across the screen in bright colors. Suddenly, a slightly deflated football was spat out as Belichick smiled just in the corner of his mouth, satisfied with his work here. Perry had been Wilson-ized.

The Patriots were hosting the Steelers and Tom Brady was searching through the locker room for his favorite ball when Coach Belichick walked in, holding a beautiful new football. They nodded at each other, the coach pitching the ball to his quarterback like a loaf of bread. 

Perry was gonna get to experience being in an NFL kickoff - he was ready for some football.

Fantasy Football Wrap-up

 Tenacious D posts another monster week despite a lawsuit from Jack Black and Kyle Gass waiting in the wings. Moose gets off the snide (can a moose do that?) while Hawkeyes get the unlucky 13. Pink Panthers win as Kyler Murray and Christian Kirk dominate the Cowboys Monday night while a distraught Jerry Jones purchases yet another yacht in protest during his annual Yachtoberfest. Matt continues to be the best team with a tight end who had a Bachelor-style reality TV show (honorable mention to the truTV cult hit Just Jonnu’ing, which came in third in the network ratings to Impractical Jokers and Practical Serious People.) FFT gets the low score despite Patrick Mahomes’s stellar State Farm commercial work (cut to Chris Paul staring forlornly at a sunset-reflected pond). Commish gets a 7 but can take solace in Clyde Edwards-Helaire being three of the best players in the league. Viking Man scores low as he skips rocks across a sunset-reflected pond, missing Alvin Kamara on his bye week. WHAMMY takes a lowly 5 but still prides himself on being the only Anchorman-based team name. Angels & Outlaws brings up the rear but wins most likely to share a name with a Netflix original.

Hobo Sign Ideas

 1. Can’t find home - need $ for a GPS

2. I can’t sleep - could you buy a brother a dream?

3. Pull my finger - that will be $10,000 

4. Need $ for new shoes, socks, underwears...

5. Like my Ron Jon t-shirt? I’ll give it to you for $800 OBO

6. When it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month or even your yearrrrrrrrr

7. Did the *insert hometown team* win? 

8. Use my WiFi - $5 or $10

9. This sign is brought to you by the Cash App - speaking of the Cash App...

10. Listen to my podcast (seriously tho, Chris Arneson Show)

Short Spec Script #1: Beavis & Butthead

Beavis and Butthead Go For A Walk

“Your guys’s driveway looks like The Wizard of Oz.” Beavis comments on a home with yellow cobblestone jagged rocks spaced out equally.

As they walk by a sign that reads Deaf Children Area, Butthead says, “I’m gonna yell as loud as I can and see if I can wake up that deaf kid.”

Regarding the poor air quality, Butthead ponders, “Maybe God is taking a smoke break.”

“Dude, you think God works at a frickin’ Safeway?” 

In regards to a Stand Up Against Trump sign, Beavis questions, “What about people in wheelchairs? Are they supposed to stand up and break their legs to signify how much they despise Trump? If that’s the case, the disabled hate him the most.”

“Wonder how much that deaf kid hates him.”

“That starter house is sick.” 

“Three bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms? If they got two showers, I’m in.” 

“Why do dads sneeze so loud?”

“They’re trying to establish a pecking order.” 

Walking by a placard that reads Carlos Fence, Beavis offers, “That dude’s name is Carlos Fence? He was born to do that job.” 

“Their long driveway is majestic.”

“How many limos does that guy have? Maybe he’s an assistant to the stars.”

Observing an advertisement for Legacy Roofing, Butthead muses, “At the CEO’s funeral, their gonna speak of roofing.”

 

As an overweight bunny crosses the street, Beavis remarks, “Easter came early this year.”

“The season just keeps getting longer.”

“Mother won’t be home - it’s 9 AM, dude.”

“9 AM is Mother’s witching hour.” 

A Day in the Life: Vincent van Gogh

6:12 am: Rousted by a symphony of songbirds beautifully interspliced with the voices in his head
6:38 am: Brew a few cups of fresh coffee and start daydreaming already
6:55 am: 
7:26 pm: Cut off ear

I wrote this months ago and now I’m gonna just throw it up here cuz I’m a WILD CARD, yee-haw!

Listen to my podcast Chris Arneson Show

🍯Santa Fe Farmers Market🍎

     The atmosphere at the market was electric. News had spread like wildfire through most of the quiet hamlets scattered about the Sangre de Cristo foothills (yeah I looked it up, that’s the real name - I’m not just naming it after myself...I’m narcissistic but not THAT much).

I wrote this months ago - now I’m just gonna throw it up here cuz I’m WILD.

Listen to my podcast Chris Arneson Show

Californiakus

Daily dose of Sun

Convertible traffic jam

Space Jam 2 traffic

Destination place
Dreamers migrate to Cali
Most move away soon

West coast represent
Home of too many people
You miss open space
Listen to my podcast Chris Arneson Show

Actually All Things Considered

What if dinosaurs still existed - would we have them as pets? How old did the oldest person in history live and what was their secret to staying young - yoga? Hot yoga? Hot tubs? Hot tub time machines?
Is there a Michael Phelps of fish that can stay alive for a super long time after getting scooped up by the dudes from that cranberry juice commercial?

Listen to my podcast Chris Arneson Show

New Podcast Name

Good evening tribe,
I recently changed the name of my podcast (upon recommendation from my Uncle Steve, podcast guest, lawn bowling enthusiast and little plate connoisseur) from A Star Is Born to Chris Arneson Show. I no longer associate myself with Lady gaGa. Please listen to Chris Arneson Show here - I said good day!

Daily Check-in #2

I talked to my Gramps on the phone today for 33 minutes - I like to be exact. I’m an accountant for statistics that don’t matter. He lives in Great Falls, Montana which is actually located in a galaxy far, far away from Los Angeles. Montana has been reopening since last week - they’re the lucky kid who got picked up by his step-dad at lunch to go to the “dentist” (Hooters happy hour...aren’t all hours at Hooters happy? Who’s the step-dad now? I’m the step-dad now *voice of the pirate from that Tom Hanks picture*)
The cool thing about Montana is that the state population is about one tenth of L.A. County but it’s area is almost as big the whole of California. That’s why people live in Montana - well, only a handful of them but they sure do love it cuz there is no one else there. Everyone gets their own mountain. Comparing Montana (why isn’t it Mountaina?) to Los Angeles is like comparing oranges to dirty syringes. Imagine if the homeless guy in Great Falls, Larry, saw the marauding packs of Walking Dead extras roaming the streets of L.A. - he would shit his pants and then promptly walk those pants to the laundry mat to be washed for free cuz he goes way back with Todd, they play golf together in the summer and bowl in the winter. Larry sleeps behind the pins in the bowling alley during the winter to stay warm - legend has it that you every pitcher of Blue Moon you can see the sparkle of his eyes, deep in the bowels of the gutter.
From gutter to gutter.

Daily Check-in #1

This is gonna be easy. It’s been too long! I feel like I’m catching up with an old friend - it’s been far too long, my friend! Too many moons! Why don’t I just do this every single day? This is my new thing - a daily check-in. I wanna get in the game every day - I wanna be the Major League Baseball of bloggers. I’m putting myself in the game - I’m the coach and the player in this hypothetical.
Cuz I gotta put something out there to be judged by someone who doesn’t know they wield that power. I gotta create some piece of content every single day - I am a content whore. Young, woke, dumb and full of cum. I like being silently judged - the quiet part is the best part. It’s like that movie that Jim from The Office directed - the one with the no sound.
I started doing a lil show on my YouTube channel - it’s not much but I’m proud to call it my own, like an old beater car or a tattered pair of cargo shorts. But I decided to take a break from the show today and let it breathe - I’ve taken a step back from my podcast as well, slowing my roll to merely a few episodes a week. I talked on the phone with my mom for over an hour this morning and my friend, Stephen U., yesterday on the poddie woddie for over two hours. It’s a super fun way to pass an hour or two and break up the routine of the day, the Groundhogness of it all, his Bill to her Murray. Also I went to Costco and loaded up on goodies - today was a good day.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna continue watching this Joe Rogan episode and doing too many word searches - I’ve been doing soooo many word searches. I told my mom that the book looks like one of my dad’s baseball encyclopedias and she had a good laugh.

📺The Quarantine Diaries #4😷

Dearest Quarantine Diary,

The days are stacking up like books on a librarian’s To-Do Pile. Speaking of which, Tudu Pyle, a 6 foot 2, 245 pound defensive floater out of Arizona Tech is slated to go 17th by Mel Kiper Jr. in the first round of the NFL Draft (Sponsored by Zoom) on Thursday. Speaking of witch, what’s Melissa Joan Hart up to these days?

But in some seriousness, the second day of the NFL Draft is on MY birthday and I don’t know how I feel about that. What would you like for your birthday this year? I’m getting a round table of middle-aged men in suits, some with hair that’s actively trying to escape their skull, others who’s heads are so shiny that  audiences are required to wear a special pair of Blue Blocker Glasses, all just got done playing Tiger Woods Golf on their virtual driving range and reminiscing with their virtual caddy, Zorg Welliver III.

Love,

Zorg Welliver IV

Listen to my Oscar-winning podcast A Star Is Born

Get my books Sponge Cake & What’s in the Fridge?

Follow @chrisarneson8 on IG/ Save the 🐳 

🦠The Qwazy Quarantine🏠

     Tom and Tina’s relationship never was the same after the Great Quarantine of 2020. At first, her lil jigsaw puzzle habit was adorable, assembling the Eiffel Tower over strawberry crepes and French toast, the Hollywood Sign whilst snacking on churros and sipping horchata or cobbling up the state of Florida over a brunch of pamplemousse La Croix, deluxe-sized Slim Jims and a wicker platter of fresh methberries, plucked from the backyard of a blended family of semi-professional wrestlers. Then, slowly but surely, all the time that Tom and Tina spent together began to somehow multiply exponentially, hours turning into days turning into weeks turning into late night arguments over laundry and the dishwasher and whether or not they should foster a kitten and name it Larry. 

     The entire marriage came to a head over a couple bowls of New England-style clam chowder. Tina had purchased the bowls after several Bloody Marys at a antique farmers market in Santa Fe, New Mexico on one of her many Ladies Trips. After Tina and her troop of friends left the Target parking lot (which hosted the antique farmers market every Thursday from 3-7 pm beginning the week of the first day of Spring and ending the week of Halloween, sponsored by Ralph’s Pizzeria and Ice Cream Shoppe: If it ain’t Ralph’s, we ain’t buyin’), the executive director of the market, Tammi Woodbury, banned large groups of eight or more middle-aged women from attending the weekly market or as the local weirdos like to call it Cougar Country. 

“How’s your chowdah, honey bunny?” Tina asked her beau. 

“Same as it always tastes...every Tuesday night for the past eleven years.” Tom snapped back.

“I like New England-style clam chowder. It reminds me of when we watched our favorite movie, Fever Pitch, for the first time together. We had both seen it at least twenty times before but none were sweeter than that first time we saw it together and decided to get matching Red Sox tattoos on our butt cheeks even though we’re just a couple kids from North Carolina and the closest thing we had to professional baseball was when Cousin Stanley got a few too many moonshine shoeys in him and he would take a baseball bat and start whackin’ trees down in the backyard like he was on some of that Rambo shit.”

“I forgot how much I love you, woman. Now let’s watch clips of Jimmy Fallon’s late night show on YouTube and get housed. You in?”

“Hell yeah, babe, you know you married a rockstar, babe.”

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😷The Quarantine Diaries #3🧤

Dear Quarantine Diary,

What day is it now? Does it even matter anymore? These shenanigans have transmogrified into one long tailgate for the most infected football game of all time. Treat yourself well - drink a lot of water, go for walks and don’t eat too many Rice Krispy treats. Set some personal goals for 2020 and write them down. Watch less TV and read more but don’t be one of those people who gets rid of their TV and always somehow manages to jam that fact into everyday conversation - no one likes that person and they’re not as smart as they think. There’s tons of good stuff on TV these days (well, I don’t know about cable cuz I don’t have that but I’m talking about Netflix and YouTube.) Watching an interesting conversation on a podcast on YouTube is more productive than watching one of the Kardashians search for a diamond earring in the ocean (although that was pretty messed up the way that dude tossed her in like she was a sack of potatoes and he was an Idaho blue blood.)

There’s lots of different ways to make the world a better place - maybe it’s just smiling and saying hi to people when you go for a walk or picking up garbage or holding the door for someone (back when we used to go into these places that were called businesses and we would use this thing called money to purchase these things called Shredded Chicken Quesadilla Melts) or churning out a bunch of blog posts and podcasts to entertain the quarantined homies in between Netflix binges.

Love,

Topher Gopher

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📚The Quarantine Diaries #2🍕

Dear Quarantine Diary,

Sign off. What are you doing on here? That screen time is off the hook. Take a walk and leave the phone on the bed. Get out there into nature. Go chase a squirrel. Don’t steal its nuts though - you won’t be able to find a health care provider if you catch a gnarly case of the rabies. 

Stop following the news all day, erry day. It’s mostly garbage - biased, bought and brain-infecting. The news is like sports but without the mascots or...wait a second, the anchors are the mascots. It’s like a good ol’ fashioned college football mascot rivalry game on NCAA ‘04 from the legend...wait for it...ary EA Sports. 

So take a break from binging your favorite show on Netflix - it’ll be there tomorrow and the next day. If your watching The Office on Netflix, though, that show is leaving at the end of 2020 but thankfully you have plenty of time to cuddle up with your couch-full of kittens and pre-packaged snacks. 

Love,

Topher Gopher

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🦠The Quarantine Diaries #1🏠

Dear Quarantine Diary,

I miss people. Most of them, not really, but sometimes you would meet an interesting one and have a great conversation, completely unexpected, out of the blue. I miss touching a stranger’s hand - not in a weird, creepy uncle kind of way but in a wholesome, white picket fence Midwestern new to the cul-de-sac kind of way. I miss regular podcast banter and checking basketball boxes scores the next morning. I miss going for walks and people not crossing the street when they see you like a racist even though you’re both white.

I miss going to the gym. Remember the gym? It seems like eons since I stepped foot in a 24 Hour even though it’s been nary a fortnight (speaking of which, I don’t miss Fort Nite - is it possible to miss something you never loved?) I miss the sauna - being super hot for no reason - that’s the best. 

I don’t miss traffic but it was nice when I had to go somewhere - it’s always better to be busy. Busy people get the most things done but it totally makes sense - that’s why they’re so busy - they’re busy doing all these things. They wouldn’t be a busy person if they didn’t get stuff done and they wouldn’t get stuff done unless they were so busy. I feel a bit lazy from sticking around the house all day but still productive - the podcast and blog are up and running, firing on all cylinders in this time of temporary universal hermitage. Why not? If not now, then when else? If I couldn’t muster up a few podcasts and blog posts at this point, I would be seriously worried that something might be up. Productivity is just waiting for you every morning - take the bait. 

Love,

Topher Gopher 

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🧺Productivity @ Home🏠

     Are you home right now? You probably should be unless your job has been deemed essential or you’re playing beer pong in or in the vicinity of an alligator-infested Florida lagoon or shooting an elk in Montana or perhaps you’re walking your dog for the fourth time today. The world has their panties in a bunch (that sentence looks pretty in pink), celebrities are losing their attention-hogging minds that work like heat-seeking missiles on the brink of destroying an innocent village of tribespeople inhabiting a chain of islands in the vicinity of Ibiza and staying home has become the new superpower, saving the universe one microwavable appetizer at a time. 

     Producing content has transformed into more than an artform - it’s now a way of life as Instagram Live videos have usurped bouncing balls and whistles in the mindless entertainment department (although I would argue it’s more intellectually efficient to watch a mid-major conference tournament than a C list celebrity strum away on their acoustic guitar like they’re trying to get laid in the parking lot of a Phish concert. 

     Now is the time for the Average Joe to become the Average Joe Pesci - it’s your time to shine, you talented, underappreciated, beautiful sonofabitch. For far too many years you’ve been relegated to the cappuccino machine, pumping away at that thing like your goddamn life depended on it. Now is the time to write that screenplay that you were so inspired to write after that you saw Rocky for the first time. That was twenty eight years ago. You’ve been sitting on a pile of gold for going on three decades now, my friend. Do you keep a journal? You should, if you’re into that kind of thing.

     Time used to be something you valued - now it’s something you waste, pecking away on your mobile device, checking in on your numerous social media accounts and sipping overpriced coffee (well, at least you’re making your coffee at home for now.) You can make your time work for you by putting it to good use with every extra hour of freedom you have because of the big Q. If you’re working from home, you could read a book or go for a walk (but casually jog away from any people you come across) during the time that you would be commuting instead of checking the news for the nineteenth time before 11 am. If you lost your job and desperately need money, you could check to see if the grocery store is hiring (thanks to Joey Coco Diaz for that recommendation - “Where’s the frozen peas, cocksuckah!”) Or if you need entertainment you could explore your creative side and start writing a blog or a book or doing a podcast or doing one of those adult coloring books (but don’t let your children see any of the dirty pictures.) Or if you wanna be lazy and do nothing you could just keep doing that and no one would notice, probably. In all seriousness, this is an opportunity knocking on your door - a chance to do a complete overhaul of what makes you you or to just reaffirm the path that you are already heading down, a chance to take over your life and determine for once and for all what kind of person you want to be and how you’re gonna make it all happen.  No matter what, someday everything you have ever known is just gonna be dust in the wind, blowing away gently into the Grand Canyon or some other national park but your grandchildren are probably gonna listen to some embarrassing stuff you said on a podcast and be like, “Grandpa made some good points - this is boring, though, let’s go have a virtual realty gangbang.”

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🦠Rona Riddles Pt 2🧼

“Refill the ice, Ross.” 

Ross was jarred from his illustrious daydream, reeled in back to reality by his mortal enemy - his manager, Terry Sue. Now, Terry Sue wasn’t any ordinary Menchies manager, not that there is such a thing or that there is such a thing as ordinary in this modern day and age of blended families and blended milkshakes (which you can find on the Menchies menu in a variety of sizes and flavors, Ross’s favorite being the Raspburied Alive and Terry Sue’s being Camel Lights (coincidentally, she has a string of camel lights draped around her “Thinking Room”, illuminating her many stacks of Readers Digest editions from the 80s and pictures of Hollywood leading men cut out of magazines like a friendly serial killer, ceremoniously arranged in a Midwestern Ofrenda to the lords of TMZ.)

“Why do I always have to do it? Sherry just sits on her phone all day, doin Lord knows what!” Ross yelped to his boss (and don’t even get her started on Yelp), immediately throwing his sweaty palms over his word trap. 

Sherry reluctantly looked up from her iPhone, snapping a beach ball-sized bubble of pink Major League Chew in the face of authority.

“Beat it, nerd.” She snarled at Ross, a phrase that had been spoken so many times that it had lost complete meaning by that point. 

“You’ll see. One day I’m gonna be a movie star. People are gonna be lining up to shake my hand like the mayor. They’ll call me the Movie Mayor.” Ross muttered, half to himself and half to his future self, as he snatched the dirty ice bucket.

“Hey, Ross buddy?” Sherry offered up. 

“Yeah?” He chirped, turning around in hopes of receiving words of encouragement on par with Kurt Russell barking at his squad in between whistle tweeps in the magnificent film that relives a treasured piece of American history, Miracle. 

“Hose that shit down.” 

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🧼Quarantine Haikus🏠

Purell currency

Take a shower & a nap

Make your own schedule

Work out in your room

You Don’t Know Jumping Jack, sweat

Planking works the core

Quarantine and chill

Most peeps subscribe to Netflix 

Stream of consciousness 

Go to the store, risk

Paranoid postal workers 

Halloween - masks 

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🦠Rona Riddles🧼

“Are you telling me that if this thing gets to the people, there’s no limit to the damage that it will inflict on us all?” 

Growled President The Rock as he slowly peaked his jutted-out dart chin over his bulky shoulder mountain as he let this statement hang in the air for what seemed like an eternity but what was probably no longer than a Quibi (hopefully you saw that YouTube ad and that company hasn’t dissolved by the time you read this.)

His Secretary of Whatever fumbled his enormous stack of papers like Leon Lett at the goal line (why hasn’t this guy gone green yet? C’mon, guy.)

“That’s what the scientists are saying - you don’t trust science?” The Secretary of Whatever chirped with a flaky facade of confidence. 

“I fought Science once when I was younger...We went twelve rounds in the blazing Sun of the Australian Outback. It left me with a fistful of scars but Science...shit...Science left in a body bag, son. Science was never the same after that - now all the people can talk about is their cousin, technology. People have started to question Science like they never did before and they don’t know it but it’s because of what I did to that poor sonofabitch and I probably should have finished the dirty work. Science had a pet cat, Chester, one of them big cats that you’re not allowed to have in a place where you would want to live (you are, of course, allowed them to have them in a place where you wouldn’t want to live but that’s the tax you pay for not living there.) I took Chester home and he quickly became one of my most treasured possessions although I don’t think it’s possible to own such a beautiful, wild beast of the jungle. One day Chester asked me what ever happened to his father, Science. I told him I had to take out the trash and burst into tears while I barreled down the driveway in hopes of covering my shame, not wanting to admit that I, too, in a moment of weakness might be driven to actually being human. When I came back into the kitchen, Chester was nowhere to be found but there was a note with beautiful penmanship. It read, ‘Dearest President The Rock, 

Thank you so much for your kindness and gentleness in raising me to be who I am today, valedictorian at the sanctuary and going to State on a full-ride scholarship for football. I would never change a thing, even if a genie magically leapt out of a TV screen and granted me three wishes, they would all be to spend more time with you. I miss my dad, though...my real dad. I miss Science. And I know that you told me a million times that I don’t need him, that he’s a garbage person with garbage values but sometimes I feel like I need to figure it out for myself and this is one of those times. I don’t want to do it but I just feel like it’s one of those things that I have to do or it’s gonna eat away at me my whole life until I’m 86 years old and an usher at a Major League Baseball stadium. So I’m gonna go now, I’m already gone. I can’t thank you enough for everything but I can’t bring myself to look you in the face and say goodbye so I hope this is good enough or worth something at least. 

Love,

Chester”

When President The Rock looked up from this extended soliloquy, his Secretary of Whatever turned out to be a frozen yogurt machine and he turned out to be an aspiring Menchies manager. 

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🎹Glee Haikus🎤

Trust fall generation

Ohio harmony, rad

Teacher misconduct

Hit those high notes, babe

Jingles - champion breakfasts 

All-you-can-sing style

Piano beard guy

Red, trusty musical mime

Boston Brad Ellis

Kinda evil Kurt

Finn’s love saboteur, dead mom

Son of mechanic

Meet Sue Sylvester 

Bully of students, teachers

Also everyone

Sue wears sweet jumpsuits

Where does she get all of ‘em?

Does she own a store?

Sue’s store for jumpsuits

Made for any occasion 

Wreck a funeral

That’s how Sue C’s It

People are not made equal

Beautiful ones win

Slushee in the face

Brutally honest action

Now it’d be assault 

Don’t stop believin’

Pre-social media charm

Life is a Journey

Quinn’s choice - Finn or Puck

Mohawked rebel or Ken doll

Both carry a tune

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