Monday, February 20, 2006

Money in the (Red) Bank

On Saturday, I traversed to Red Bank, NJ with Mike, Rusty, Chrissy, Melanie, and her friend Melissa. Already you must be asking, "Golly gee Dan, Red Bank is two hours away. So what's there? Family? An amusement park? An historical landmark?"

Try a comic book store, a convenience store, and White Castle. But my friends, this trip wasn't just for any comic book or convenience store (especially considering my comic knowledge begins and ends with Garfield). Being the pop culture whores that we are, we made the trek to visit the Secret Stash and Quick Stop Groceries, respectively Kevin Smith's comic store and location where Clerks was filmed. And as for White Castle? Well, we figured Harold and Kumar went to hell and back to get some Sliders (albeit in a perpetually stoned state), so we should follow suit.

See? I told you that we were pop culture whores.

Now as someone who has made a non-paying career out of endlessly bashing New Jersey, I drove into Red Bank expecting to find plenty of fodder for my blog. Fortunately, my expectations were surpassed, which shouldn't surprise anyone given the fact that this is a state that does not trust its citizens to pump their own gas.

Now before I continue, I'm sure that I have a reader or two from Jersey reading this right now. If I have offended you in any way, I want to sincerely urge you to move to another state. You'll thank me later.

But I digress.

Driving through Jersey, we came across so many landmarks that I kept my camera readily available for Mike to take pictures from the passenger's seat (and by landmark, I mean "crap that we found funny"). Unfortunately, we couldn't get out the camera in time to snap a picture of a sign for "Leonard Public School", in which the "l" in "public" was conspicuously absent. However, thanks to the magic of red lights, we were able to take a photograph of...well...I'll let you judge for yourself at first:

Still confused as to what our perverted, subadolescent minds found so hysterical? Look closely at the clown's right hand. Let's just say that he certainly seems to be enjoying himself quite a bit.

Now, thanks to the fact that I could design a more-navigable road in SimCity than Jersey's supposed "highway engineers" , we were able to come across a few more "I Couldn't Photoshop This If I Tried" gems:

God willing, I never have to go to their subsidiary, "Brain Surgery for P*ssies."

After hitting all of the landmarks that we intentionally and unintentionally wanted to see, the six of us made our pilgrimage to the Pothead Mecca itself...

For the sake of clarification, we are not potheads. We just eat like we are.

Most of us had never eaten at said establishment, myself included. Therefore, it did not initially dawn on me that their sandwiches were roughly the size of a Cheez-It. So after ordering four burgers from a cashier that had the English skills of a mute chimpanzee, I finally sat down, ready to find out what the big deal was. So now, I must ask...

What the $#!& are you potheads smoking?

Don't answer that.

I have eaten some pretty lousy food in my day. You don't become a semi-regular at Denny's without some residual side effects. But these "burgers" looked (and tasted) like the underbelly of roadkill. Some of you may be asking how I know what roadkill underbelly tastes like. Remember...I eat at Denny's.

After pondering the benefits of vomiting, we called it a night and headed home to civilization. But a good time was had by all, mostly at Jersey's expense. Then again, they did have a standalone Chick-Fil-A, so maybe I've misjudged the Garden State all along.

Wow, I couldn't even type that with a straight face.

Until next time...

Update: Be sure to read Mike's account of our trip at

Thursday, February 16, 2006


Several people have asked me why I've suddenly decided to delete my MySpace account. To be honest, I've been mulling over it for a few weeks, ultimately choosing today to end my "time" there once and for all. But I certainly have several reasons why:
  • In my field, MySpace is not looked at in the most favorable light. I'd rather distance myself from any potential backlash than be dragged right into it.
  • Fewer people will find me here. Now as an aspiring humor writer, it would seem that it would behoove me to write for as large an audience as possible. But when you're also a "bad guy" professional wrestling manager and several fans find you, the frequent comments of "u suck hightower lolololol" tend to grate on the nerves a tad...especially since I know that said fans aren't laughing out loud out loud out loud out loud like they profess they are.
  • Simply put, the novelty of MySpace has completely worn off. At first, it was like, "Wow, people from my past can find me on here!" It eventually turned into, "Shit, people from my past can find me on here." It's amazing what one expletive and changed mark of punctuation can do to shift someone's perspective.
  • And finally, as if I needed further justification for distancing myself from Tom's Cyberhouse of Suck, the last bulletin I received was the following:
    • How Gay are you?
      Go to link. Take Test. Copy and paste this to a "Bulletin" and add your name and score with your score also in the subject line..and post it.

Please snip me now so that I do not even risk the temptation of bringing children into such an idiotic world.

If you're reading this and my MySpace account is still active, it's simply because I want to archive my old blogs before I delete it for good. In the meantime, I can promise more "What Dan Learned" and "Sensai Dan" goodness. I'll even go far as to pinky swear.

Yeah, now you know I'm serious.

But I do highly encourage anyone reading to comment on my blogs like you guys did on MySpace (you don't need to be a member of Blogspot to comment). It certainly makes it more fun for me. And there MAY just be a little something in it for you as well.*

Until next time...

*I lied.

"What Dan Learned" Is Back!

Like a Prodigal Son (without all the residual guilt), my indecisive-self has decided to return to Blogspot and abandon the cyber-cesspool known as MySpace. Admittedly, I was a certified MySpace addict for a good while. But as I detox from bulletins promising imminent death and computer-crashing page layouts, I look forward to blogging in my own personal Tom-free zone.

Until next time...