Its here.....FINALLY!

The Sociological Experiment

In yet another example of how easily tempted I am by the phrase "open bar", I agreed on Friday to go to a "private party" at a gold coast club called "Level." My first indication that I was likely over my head was when I discovered I'd be going to a place called "Level". What is it with hip clubs and their one word names that don't seem to correlate with anything in particular? When I hit m midlife crisis and decide to open up a club, I'm going to name it something equally random or, better yet, something borderline offensive. Like "Felch", or "Qweef."

Anyways, the purpose of this outing was actually the formal kickoff of Chicago Fashion Week. After overcoming the initial shock and subsequent gut busting hilarity of "Chicago Fashion Week's" opening party having a guest list with my name anywhere within a 100 mile radius, let alone actually on it, I got pimped out in the new shirt I purchased at H&M that day, and left with my two neighbors, Jessy and Brandy (the latter responsible for my name being on said list).

Upon arriving at Level, I found out the "open bar" (aka the only reason I even bothered to come) was actually only 9-10pm. And guess what?? It was 10:30pm when we arrived! Now my only objective for the evening is to lay low, enjoy my Seven Dollar Beer, and pray I don't run into anyone I know. Unfortunately that final objective crashed and burned not ten minutes later, when I ran into a guy that works with my friends Chad and Kelly.

"No worries", I thought to myself, he won't tell anyone he saw me, and hopefully I can regain the hetero-points I lost today by first shopping at H&M then attending a Fashion Week party (that did NOT feature an open bar, I might add...did I forget to mention that? No?)

After that mildly unfortunate setback, I decided it was a fine time to go into do-random-and-embarassing-things-for-the-sole-purpose-of-telling-Steve-about-it-later mode (perhaps also known as College Mark). When a girl working the event put a stack of Fashion Week brochures on the table in front of me, I motioned towards the picture of the model on the cover, and proclaimed to anyone within earshot that me and that model “did it”. Twice, actually! This led to the following exchange between me and the girl working the event:

Her: “really? So what was her name??”
Me: “I...um…didn’t really catch her name. I mean, I don’t really like for them to get too attached, ya know?”
Her: “so do you know a lot of models?”
Me: “well yeah, sort of, I mean, they don’t know me per se, well they kind of know as the guy that hangs out outside their place until the wee hours of the morning, if that’s what you mean by “know” me…
Her: (walks away, shaking her head)

Its moments like these that make me wonder how I’ve ever seen a woman naked.

So after 3 drinks and close to a $30 dollar bar tab, I decided it was as good a time as any to start taking pictures of my nipple with some random girl’s camera, then ask her if we could “compare nipple shots”. That went over with her boyfriend about as well as you might imagine…

To top off a perfect evening, I got a text message from my friend Kelly that read simply, “Level?” The word was out…and now I have a lot of damage control to do this week…

Ultimately, it was decided that this sociological experiment of going to a pricey club and hanging out with people who are clearly better than me is not such a good idea. Although it is true that College Mark is indeed back, this act can only fly in certain circles.

Here are some other random thoughts from the past two weeks (and again, I’m sorry I haven’t updated in so long, I’ve been busy planning parties for the Duke Lacrosse Team)

-could there be a more anticlimactic national championship than UCLA/Florida? Talk about a lose/lose situation. Its impossible to root for UCLA because that would mean people in southern California would have reason to celebrate about something. Its impossible to root for Florida for similar reasons, although at least Floridians are slightly closer to death, on average

-can I say how happy I am that baseball season is back? Even as I write this, my beloved Atlanta Braves are clinging to a one run lead in the ninth with The Shakiest of All Relievers, Chris Reitsma on the mound. I have a feeling I’m going to plow through more than a few bottles of antacid this year…

-my brother was not accepted at UVA this weekend, meaning they are holding true to their commitment of only allowing rich, conservative southern closet-redneck/closet-homosexual whiteboys through the pearly gates of Charlottesville, Virginia. The more I thought about it, the happier I am that he isn’t going to school there. I pretty much hated every single person that went there, and even the people that I liked from high school that went there, ended up turning into assholes sooner or later. And if Mike is going to become an asshole, I want it to be on his terms, not because he is desperately trying to conform to the pompous, SUV driving, argyle sweater wearing, closet cases at “The University”.

-That reminds me, what the hell is it with UVA and Ohio State thinking they are above everyone else by putting the article “the” in front of their school names? Is it not a coincidence that some of the most insufferable people on the planet have come out of both of those institutions? Thank god Mike is not going to attend either of those shitpits…

-and finally today, the edited, updated video from the bachelor party of a month ago:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=Z_PAUBqY0TQ

Blue State Bracket - Part 2

Editors Note: Since every tourney bracket is a complete wash, and the random intern who knows nothing about basketball usually wins anyway, then why NOT construct a tournament bracket based on political bias? Once again, Kent comes through admirably.

[Please read my previous post if you haven't already]

Picking only blue state teams in the NCAA tournament immediately puts you at a disadvantage. First of all, blue colleges are outnumbered 38-25 overall, and an even worse 10-6 among the #1-4 seeds. But upsets are what March Madness is all about, and today's Democrats are very familar with being underdogs.

However, there are bright spots. Blue state teams represented pretty well overall thanks to the strength of the Big East - 7 of the 8 Big East teams in the tourney are blue, including some legitimate title contenders in Connecticut and Villanova. Also, Kerry's narrow win in the state of Wisconsin gives us three pretty solid teams. Too bad John Edwards couldn't help turn North Carolina blue. No pun intended.

Let's look region-by-region:

Atlanta -- We have a problem here, since the highest blue seed is #5 Syracuse. Although they made a surprising run to win the Big East tournament, it would be quite a stretch to assume they can make it to the Final Four - especially with Duke in the way. Luckily, we can use our rule which allows for an Evil Red Team to win through to the championship and lose to our Blue Hero. So even though Texas epitomizes evil for most Democratic folk, no one deserves to lose miserably in the NCAA Championship more than Duke, the most hated team in college basketball. In the other part of the region, we have to hope for upsets by Southern Illinois and California to make the Sweet 16.

Washington DC -- The most blue-friendly region, with 4 of the top 6 seeds on our side. No surprises here, with Connecticut tearing through to the Final Four. Also, the only blue-blue matchup in the second round will occur here, between Washington and Illinois.

Minneapolis -- While we have a blue #1 seed here in Villanova, I'm going to pick Boston College to pull the upset and make it to the Final Four. Why? Well, for one thing, we already have Duke and UConn in there, and picking three #1 seeds in the Final Four is always a questionable strategy. BC is a solid team, taking Duke down to the wire in the ACC championship, so I think they're a good pick. As with the Atlanta region though, we need upsets by the #7 and #11 seeds over #2 and #3 in the second round.

Oakland -- Probably the toughest region for the blue state strategy. Our hopes rely on #5 Pittsburgh to knock off both #4 Kansas and #1 Memphis. A tall order, considering they have a tough first round matchup with MAC champ Kent State. The other side of the region is easier, with blue #2 and #3 seeds meeting in the Sweet 16. I'm going with Gonzaga over UCLA, Adam Morrison's prepubescent moustache is too much of an X-factor is just too much of an X-factor.

Final Four -- Like everybody else in America, I'm picking Duke and Uconn in the championship. Three guesses who wins.

So how well will my strategy hold up? We'll see, as it gets a real-world test in an Mark's NCAA Tournament group. So, wish me luck. The future of our nation depends on it.

--K

The Blue State Tourney Bracket: By Kent

Editors note: Kent has been the dorkier half of a friendship that dates back to the rough streets of Erie, PA in the mid '90s. Long referred to as Mark's hetero-lifemate, Kent is famous for his unabashed political opinions, disproportionately attractive girlfriends, and Josta.

What could possibly cause the US economy to lose nearly $4 billion in worker productivity over two weeks? A terrorist attack? A flu epidemic? Nah, it's "March Madness" -- the NCAA Tournament, of course. Watching college basketball games and agonizing over your office pool bracket has become an American tradition every year around mid-March. It's even starting to rival other popular mid-March traditions, such as drinking yourself stupid and murdering Roman dictators.

So I'm here to give you some tips on how to fill out your bracket, predicting what teams are going to win the tournament games. Many people rely on specific strategies to pick the games, such as what teams have better looking uniforms, which mascots are cuter, etc., rather than go through the tedious process of actually trying to figure out who's gonna win the game. So for those of us who are of a certain political persuasion, I introduce my own strategy to you: The Blue State Bracket.

The concept is easy: pick colleges from "blue" states (ie., states that voted Democrat in 2004) to beat teams from "red" states (states that voted Republican). [Here's a map to refresh your memory as to which states are which.] This enables the progressive sports fan to stick to the GOP by "boycotting" red state colleges in his or her tournament picks. Although this accomplishes absolutely nothing of substance in the real world, it lets us Democrats vent our anger and feel better about ourselves. Which is, pretty much, just about the same as most Democratic political activity in general.

Of course, you can argue about the merit of defining colleges politically based on what state they are in. For example, Kent State could easily be classified as a "blue" school because of its place in history and location in a highly Democratic region of red-state Ohio. Similarly, Georgetown is traditionally considered a more conservative school, although it is located in the very blue Washington DC area. But all I'm trying to do here is devise a fun strategy for bracket pickin', so let's not get too anal about this. I'm anal enough as it is.

First, we have to have some rules to make this an actual competitive strategy. In the first round games, seeds #1-4 beat seeds #13-16 automatically. Additionally, in the second round, #1 seeds beat #8-9 seeds, and #2 seeds beat #10 seeds. Everywhere else, blue state teams must beat their red state opponents. In blue vs. blue and red vs. red matchups, you're free to pick whoever you want. Since you're probably unsure about which colleges are from which states for some teams, here's a list of the tricky ones for seeds #12 and up:

Blue: Villanova (PA), George Washington (DC), Georgetown (DC), Marquette (WI), Gonazaga (WA), Seton Hall (NJ), Syracause (NY), Bucknell (PA)Red: Memphis (TN), Wichita St. (KS), George Mason (VA), Kent State (OH)

(if you just said to yourself, "what about Duke?", you should not be reading this.)

One more suggestion. Although the point of this strategy is for red state teams to get humiliated and knocked out of the tournament as quickly as possible, this results in matchups between blue state teams in the later round games. Wouldn't it be more fun for a blue team to vanquish a red opponent to win the championship? So I propose to break the rules for *one* red state team, who is allowed to win through to the final game.

Tomorrow I'll write more with some predictions and breakdowns of the actual matchups. Until then, have fun filling out your, uh, "politically correct" NCAA tournament bracket.

--K

Random Thoughts for the Week!

Just thought I'd check in this week, let everyone know I'm still alive and kicking. The 2nd Annual Kegs & Eggs party was this weekend, and it was a success for the most part. I thought that it bore a striking resemblance to Super Bowl XL, both in intense build-up, and ultimate letdown. Not that the party was a letdown, but it was simply impossible to follow through on the amount of hype generated before the party itself. Also, last year was a little more ridiculous because of the presence of moonshine, and a real life irishman! Here are my random thoughts for the week...

-I will be posting my NCAA Tourney picks either tonight or tomorrow. Rest assured, the word "bracketology" will not appear once. As a matter of fact, if I hear the word "bracketology" one more time, I'm going to kill everyone in this room and put a bullet in my head.

-I bought some video editing software on Sunday, so I will be cutting down all the footage shot from this past weekend and the weekend before (at the Penis Funeral). Look for it later this week.

-Deemo has an updated list of his Areas of Expertise. Out is "Cheesy 80's Music" and in is "deli cured meats"

-Steve and I both have new nicknames, apparently. He is going by "Nails", and I'm going by "Night Train". I have no idea why, we just like the way it rolls off the tongue...

The Penis Funeral: Day Two

Editors note: please read day one first!

Day Two of Richie's bachelor party was by far one of the more interesting days in recent memory. After napping for 3 hours in the afternoon, we headed down to the casino at 5pm. Richie (pictured here from freshman year of high school, note that he still had a tiny head), myself and a few others sat down at a blackjack table, where we all proceeded to go on quite a run. It was the final time I would gamble on the weekend, and I ended up plus $300. After this, it was on to Applebees for dinner (what can I say, we were feeling adventurous)


Saturday 8:30pm: If you haven't had the pleasure of going out in public with Kyle Bright, I highly recommend it. Just make sure there aren't any small children around. Combine Kyle with Drew (who was in full-on "hit on everything that moves" mode) as well as the underrated Dan Nichols, and the overrated Scott Nichols, and you have what should have been a boring dinner ending up being wildly entertaining. Pictured here is Drew arm wrestling our waitress (he lost, badly I might add). Drew then proceeded to show her his high school football highlight reel.

Saturday 9:00pm: I wasn't kidding when I said the weekend got pretty gay in a hurry. While pregaming for the strip club, Richie decided to take a shower. This was his biggest mistake of the weekend, as one of his best friends from high school, John, decided this was as good a time as any to urinate in the shower- with Richie in it. John (pictured here on the right, and good LORD do they look shitfaced!) was actually talented enough to pull off The Golden Shower Heard Round the World on camera. A video clip is coming soon on this very site (don't worry, very little nudity)

Saturday 10pm: Any strip club named "Sundowners" is a guaranteed good time. The older lady in the hotel gift shop actually recommended Sundowners because, according to her, if we "played our cards right, we might be able to swing a handjob". I'm guessing a handjob in Canada is something you pay top dollar for...who knows. Before having my first private lapdance ever, I had some questions for my dancer, Valerie (no picture, unfortunately, flash photography is banned).

Me: "Just so you know, I've never actually done this before, what are the ground rules?"
Valerie: "riiiight, I bet you haven't. Just sit down and spread your legs"
Me: "I'm feeling very emasculated right now!"

After about 10 minutes, I started to get the hang of it, and subsequently bought another dance (or maybe two, I don't remember, I was pretty gone at this point). Afterwards, Valerie told me I was very "well behaved" and "such a sweetheart!" Now maybe its just me, but I don't like being told this by a stripper. The strip club is one of two places in the world where being a chauvinistic asshole is completely acceptable (my office being the other). Yet, after a 10 minute conversation about music, and after I plugged MarkIsSweet.com to her and her stripper friend, she actually gave me the "fist high five". Meaning, even in a strip club, Mark manages to get into "the friend zone" immediately upon meeting a female. Has this ever happened in recorded history?

Sunday 2am: Only Scott Roach has anything left for the late night gambling. I personally just blew $150 of my winnings at the strip club. Whats funny is that I didn't even realize it, those strippers are like naked hustlers!

Sunday 1:30pm: After packing up, its time to head out. But not before realizing someone actually broke into my rental car the day before. What did they steal? All the change from my change dish, Drew's apartment keys, and my apartment keys. Yes thats right, they stole apartment keys. Since my car had Illinois plates, I can only assume the bandit will be going door to door, starting somewhere in Peoria or Naperville, maybe. Time to change the locks!

After hitting the road, we came across another smart-alec border agent. We had this actual exchange:

Agent: "How long were you here?"
Me: "3 days"
Agent: "Why were you here?"
Me: "Bachelor party"
Agent: "who's bachelor party?"
Me: "Ummm...my friend Richards...?"
Agent: "Oh....so his life is pretty much over then, right?"
Me: "touché"

The Penis Funeral - Day One

As most of you know, this weekend was my buddy Richie's bachelor party (or as I like to refer to it, his "Penis Funeral") in Niagara Falls, Ontario (that would be Canada, Phil). Now, ordinarily when I write about such an event, I typically have some sort of clever introduction, that serves as a segue to the rest of the hilarious story. This time is no different, of course, as I had planned to sum up the trip with one word: Debauchery. I was even going to start everything by using the Websters definition of Debauchery. That is, until I actually looked up the definition, which is "extreme indulgence of sensual pleasures". Probably not the best way to define a 3 day weekend with 11 other guys in Canada. Then again, I saw more naked dudes than I care to admit this weekend, so maybe "debauchery" isn't so far off after all...

There really is no other way to do this, so alas, I must rip off a device used by the great Bill Simmons once again: the running diary.

Friday 12:30pm: I actually rented a car for this event, because I am sick of flying, and I HATE airports. I mean I really hate airports. I drove from Chicago to Cleveland the night before, and stayed at Scott's brother's place. Now, I have to drive all the way to the west side of Cleveland to pick up the legendary Chris Serger (seen here on the right). Serger is famous for being the oldest 24 year old in the history of the world. He's so ultra conservative, he could scare Pat Buchanan out of the closet (ok I promise thats my last political joke ever). The drive to his house in Lakewood reminded me of why I hate Cleveland so much. Unlabled streets, bad neighborhoods and sports teams that rarely deliver. After he gets in the car, we kickstart what would be the running theme of the weekend: Serger hates minorities. Now, keep in mind, I don't really think Serger hates minorities, but its just fun to assume because he is such a staunch Republican, and an avid Bush supporter, that he must also be racist. I actually introduced him this weekend as being "Pro-Katrina", for the purposes of ethnic cleansing. I also told everyone that Serger was heavily investing in a corporation that was planning on building a "Katrina-Machine" that would create a hurricane every year in a major North American city, to "keep the darky population down". (Sadly, I know Phil is reading this right now thinking to himself, "hey what a great idea, where can I find one of those?")

Friday 2pm: After picking up the third member of our carpool, Drew, we were off to I-90. Next stop Canada. If this were a movie, this would be an ideal spot for one of those "road trip montages", you know, where they show all the crazy stuff we're doing in the car, with a different shot of each one of us driving and the other two sleeping, and maybe one of those animated road maps, with fading shots of a "welcome to New York" sign. I'm hearing that Jimmy Eat World song "The Middle" playing during this piece (that song that was in one of every three movies in 2002).

Friday 6pm: And we're live from Niagara Falls! I know, it seems like an odd place for a Bachelor party, but really, its like a mini-Vegas, only the women are less attractive, and the locals are a tad touchier. We are greeted in our Embassy Suites hotel room by a naked Kyle, fresh out of the shower, who immediately requests immunity from fat jokes for the weekend. Is he serious? That would be like asking Serger not to make anti-semetic comments for an entire hour! I would be shocked if we were able to pull this off. Also, Kyle plays the role of the insult comic for the weekend, so anything is fair game for him, including my ethnic ambiguity. Also greeting us is Craig, who is as always playing the role of our man-pretty friend. We keep him around to make everyone else look bad in comparison. It should also be noted that Craig, Kyle, Drew and the other Scott were all male cheerleaders in college. I realize that this association isn't exactly building a very strong hetero-case on my part, but don't worry, the weekend gets gayer.


Friday 8pm: We're off to the Casino, but not without a near international incident first. After seeing a Domino's Pizza delivery man get on the elevator in the lobby, Serger made it a point to tell everyone that "in Canada, the pizza crust is actually on the inside of the pizza", this prompted the underrated Dan Nichols to proclaim, "yeah! Canadians are IDIOTS!" The pizza guy actually stopped and told us, "really classy guys, really classy". Then as we saw him leave a few minutes later, he actually took the time to stare us down for what seemed like an eternity. I'm still shaking.

Friday 11:30pm: I'm $100 in the hole already, thanks to a terrible run on the craps table. To add insult to injury, some jackass canuck tried to pocket my Big 8 bet that actually won. I don't know why I ever bother with craps, I suck at it.

Friday 12am: Time to go clubbin'! This was bound to be interesting, because Serger is coming with us. As most that know him would agree, Serger in a club looks about as out of place as a Harley Davidson in the Tour de France. Needless to say, he was able to stay out past his 1am bedtime. After stumbling from one lame to club to another slightly less lame club, we got sufficiently wasted enough to head back to the Casino. Did somebody say "Bad Idea Jeans?" I know I probably text messaged "bad idea" to several people this weekend, and this is why.

Saturday 2am: Well I'll be goddamned, I'm up 2 hundy at the blackjack table. Wasn't such a bad idea after all, was it?? Now the goal is to stay up until 6am to take advantage of the complimentary cook-to-order breakfast at the lovely Embassy Suites. Stevie Grey, the younger brother of the bride-to-be, is making it his personal mission to stay up until then. So finally, when 6am hits, I cash out at the table and ask Richie and Steve if they are ready to go. Not only do they not respond at all, they appear transfixed and slightly zombie like. I recognize this as a surefire early sign of gambling addiction, or perhaps they drank the punch at the door, I'm not sure, but I leave right away, and skip breakfast. As it turned out, they were 15 minutes behind me...maybe they just wanted some "alone time". I pass out on the couch, and wake up the next morning with a backache and a hangover, only a bloody mary can help me now...

Saturday 1pm: The main difference between Las Vegas and somewhere middle of the road like Niagara Falls is that time actually exists anywhere but Vegas. Hence, we find ourselves actually sleeping in until noon. After awhile, we finally muster the motivation to go out to lunch at the TGI Fridays in the hotel. For some reason, we all decide to make napkin drawings while waiting for our food. In what was probably the eeriest moment of the weekend, unbeknownst to anyone else, each one of incorporated a drawing of a penis in their picture. I, myself, made a drawing of Richie in his trademark Red Wings jersey, holding his penis. Scott made a drawing of a stick figure, holding someone else's penis. Kyle drew only a penis, perhaps his own, perhaps someone elses. Judging from the shrink wrap, and lack of female anywhere else near the penis drawing, one can only assume he was drawing his own. Another interesting Canadian tidbit: gravy is served with fries! For Kyle, being from Kentucky where he was born with a blood/gravy concentration of .08, this was like heaven!

Saturday night in Niagara Falls: strip clubs, gambling, golden showers, and the real reason why I can never run for public office EVER

all of this coming in Part 2 of The Penis Funeral! Stay Tuned...

(sorry, but I'm at work, and its hard to write about incriminating details from this weekend..)

Response to a comment: funny story time! (not for female reading)

Richie said...
"ok - First of all, mark ... whipped? That is amusing. This is a guy who would skip his wedding for game 2 of the conference semifinals. Second ... who said he was looking for a relationship in college. I can so for a fact he was more often looking for a way out of his relationships ... method of choice being espn or drinking with townie yagle. Mark, do i need to bring up the natty light bets?"

My friend Richard (the one having the Penis Funeral this weekend) is one of the few readers of this blog that actually spent time with and appreciated the College version of Mark, which is a vastly different version than the broken spirit you see before you today. The “Natty Light” bets he is referencing in this post is actually a funny story that, instead of telling it over and over to several of you, I’ll just post it here (and probably get sufficiently grilled by my female readers)

Junior year of college was mostly a blur, due to the fact that we went out probably 4 nights a week, and I was only taking 9 credit hours 2nd semester. Earlier that year, I began dating a girl (who will remain nameless) that was (and I’m putting this lightly) probably not the most stable person in the world. After we broke up, which was about 3 weeks after we started dating, I somehow parlayed that brief relationship into a year and a half of “friends with benefits”. Except we weren’t friends, at all, we actually despised each other, but we would end up at each other’s apartment basically every weekend. I still don’t know how I was able to pull this off every weekend without actually having to talk to her, but needless to say, these are things that can only happen in college. Anyways, after about 6 months of this behavior, my friend Richie (who is friends with the girl) saw an opportunity to cash in on my irresponsibility. Every weekend, he would bet me a case of Natty Light that I wouldn’t go home with the girl, and every weekend, he would get a fresh case of natty in his fridge. The first time it happened, I actually left a note on the case that said “beer courtesy of Mark’s penis”. Fast forward a couple of months, and Richie and Townie Yagle are having a late night chit chat with this girl, and Richie spills the beans on our little wager. She understandably flips out and calls my cell phone several times, which prompts me to spend the night elsewhere (a smart move in retrospect, because she came to my apartment looking for me that night, and I don’t know that she wouldn’t have murdered me that evening). The next day I assumed she had calmed down and everything blew over, but I was wrong, she showed up at my apartment that morning and basically screamed her head off at me for about an hour. I sat there, calmly, taking everything in, and let her say her piece. Then she slammed the door in my face and proceeded to leave the apartment. I stood there dumbfounded for a moment, and then she opened the door again, and proclaimed, “oh and by the way, you owe Richie another case of beer!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her, because, much like I do with Steve today, I just knew I’d be on the phone with Richie or Yagle within minutes to tell them the story.

So, for the most part, any problems or issues I have with the opposite sex today is simply life getting me back for all the pain and heartache I’ve caused others in the past. But at least I’m aware of that fact, right??

Phat Tuesday

I'm a little sluggish at work today, because Chris made me go out for Fat Tuesday last night (along with his alcoholic, pregnant fiancé). Fortunately, I was responsible enough to get home by 11pm, which allowed me to get to bed at a decent hour.

Unfortunately, whenever I drink on a weekday, invariably I end up waking up in the middle of the night for no reason. Last night was no different, of course. Just before I fell asleep, Deemo came running into my room to tell me that the DirecTV package we just hooked up yesterday includes XM Radio!!! Thanks Deemo! I needed to be woken up for that! I then fell back asleep watching Air Force One on one of our 25 movie channels. I then woke up at 2am (probably because I left my TV on) to find some strange soft-core porn on the TV. Now, because we only had HBO before getting satellite, my soft core porn selection was limited to the Angelina Jolie movies "Taking Lives" and "Original Sin" (and I always had the unfortunate timing of tuning in just after the nude scenes). Needless to say, I felt like I hit the jackpot.

Now this wasn't just any soft-core porn, there didn't seem to be any dialogue, or semblance of plot for the entire half hour I was watching. This was both good and bad, because while I did enjoy 15 straight minutes of girl on girl (even though both "actresses" looked like they were at least 45 years old), I actually kind of enjoy seeing horrible actors stumble over lines for an hour and a half. Also, I like to play the "find the connection between the title of the film and the plotline" game. This is of course, the game of trying to figure out why the movie is titled "Provocative Instinct 4", or whatever it might be called, and what that has to do with the plotline, which is almost always some sort of murder mystery. Also, I tend to wonder what ever happened to the first 3 installments of "Provocative Instinct" and why I've never seen them before.

When you live in Mark World, these are the things that keep you up at night....

-I'll be traveling to Canada tomorrow for Richie's Penis Funeral (aka his bachelor party) so there will be no updates until next Tuesday. Unfortunately this means the official launch of MarkIsSweet.com is delayed yet again. The good news is, we decided on a logo, and took the appropriate photographs Monday evening.

expect a massive update on Tuesday, complete with a Simmons-esque running diary of the events from this weekend. Then the annual Kegs & Eggs is that next Saturday, which seems like a great candidate for the first official post on markissweet.com!