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Archives: Dec 2009

New Year’s resolution

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Monday I post a new column.

 
I could deal with a few more naked ladies this year. I just want to put that information out there for whomever may be reading, whether it be God, naked ladies who read this column, or clothed lady readers who are not yet naked. There are a lot of things I could do with less of in this new year, but naked ladies is not one of them.

People resolve to do many things at the start of a new year, and with how crappy this past year has been, I don’t think my pledge to find and win the favor of more naked ladies is out of line. In tough times, it’s the simple things that make a person happy: A warm glass of milk on Christmas Eve, the love and support of family and friends, and a substantial increase in the number of naked ladies one meets.

Frankly, in naked lady terms, I’d like to see an increase of 27 percent in 2010. Don’t get me wrong; I’d be thrilled with even one percent more naked ladies, but people don’t literally sprint to their newsstands every week and fight over copies of the Reader Weekly for one percent more naked ladies. This newspaper is known for being unbearably exciting, so I’m staying true to that theme by going for 27 percent.

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas in Duluth

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Monday I post a new column.

 
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through Duluth
not a creature was sober, not even the youth.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
comatose from the NyQuil they’d been force-fed.

Mother passed out at the foot of the stairs.
Father slumped on the porch in his underwear.
Grandpa’s still at the bar, screaming about Hispanics,
while grandma’s in Superior blowing an auto mechanic.

But out on our lawn there arose such a clatter,
I awoke in the kitchen, where I’d been eating pancake batter.
Away to the window I stumbled with my drink,
tore open the shutters and threw up in the sink.

The moon on the breast of my spew-covered face
made me look like Herb Bergson in his hour of disgrace.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but newscaster Dennis Anderson, and eight growlers of Fitger’s beer.

News Tribune Prep Columnist of the Year: Paul Ryan

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Monday I post a new column.

 
Throughout this entire journalism season, the Reader Weekly’s Paul Ryan was drunk. In the morning, early afternoon, and late in the evening, the columnist was consistently inebriated, even while sleeping.

Drunk, drunk, drunk.

Whether writing love letters to his own buttocks or crying about how he cut himself on a piece of toasted bread, the influence of alcohol has always been clear to Ryan’s readers. It is the lifeblood of his column, and the sole reason anyone reads the tripe he writes.

There wasn’t a single column Ryan wrote this year while sober, yet every piece of writing was still submitted to his publisher on time. This amazing feat is why Ryan is our choice for the News Tribune’s Prep Columnist of the Year award.

“My cologne is made from walruses! I keep all my sexy in the front of my pants!” shouted Ryan before tumbling down the stairs at the Duluth News Tribune offices, knocking himself unconscious as we tried to present him with our annual award for column writing.

Your family Christmas card sucks

Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Monday I post a new column.

 
The first week of December is a weird time to get a Christmas card. It’s like receiving a Valentine’s Day card in the third week of January. Early Christmas cards cheat me of holiday spirit by delivering it when I couldn’t possibly give less of a crap about the festivities.

Holiday cheer is like a woman’s libido. You can’t just flip it on like a switch; it needs to be warmed up gradually over time before the person is actually in the mood. The holidays are no different. Sending me a card on December 1 is like Christmas rape, with the card sender forcing me to be in the mood before I’m interested.

I can understand sending holiday party invites early. Receiving one right after Thanksgiving is appreciated because it gives extra notice and makes my schedule easier to coordinate. But what is the purpose of sending a Christmas card three weeks early? Is it a race? Does the earliest card win a prize? Are you sending multiple cards, this one with lighthearted holiday cheer and another right before Christmas that gets all Jesusy and obnoxious? Or are you just a douche?

Starting next year, every Christmas card I receive before December 14 will be mailed back to the sender with critiques on how much better the card could have been if they had spent a little more time on it.