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Dear Readers,
As surely all of you know...you can never go home again.  Maybe this is why at the age of 8 Poelker men are sent out to fend for themselves in the wilderness until they eventually kill a gigantic wolf and return to their homeland as a king/incredibly cut up British actor (until they are killed while leading an army of 300 against the nation of Persia...but not before proving that even God kings do bleed).  Well maybe that never actually happened, but neither does 2/3rds of this shit so...who the hell cares?  The point is the same, once you leave home you can never came back. Well...unless it is Thanksgiving weekend or something.

And college works exactly the same way.  After all when you're in college and you are drinking your body weight in $2 whiskey or making a mess in your shorts when you are grinding on some random person with ambiguous sexual organs or not reading ever...then it becomes your home.  It becomes the place where you can feel safe, where you can feel at ease, where you can watch season four of The OC and somehow simultaneously laugh, cry and vomit all at the same time.  Basically it becomes the place where you want to be, the place that makes all other places look like a federal pound me in the ass prison...or Cleveland.

But, as soon as you leave...it's like you were never there.  You're younger friends move on to the next 21+ year old who can buy their affection with Malibu Rum.  The chicks who shockingly let you touch them a collective 3 times in a 4 year span move on to another guy who can make them reevaluate their life from shame and depression the next morning.  Even the homeless man who use to follow you around 24/7 and collect your used beer cans has moved on some other dude who can't notice that he smells like a used diaper filled with Indian food, because he smells the exact same way...just like you did. 

It's true that you can never go home again.  Unless you really want to.  Then, in reality...you never really left.

College Alumni Life Cycle
The first edition of our "life cycle" series took a look at how old men could age gracefully while ignoring the people closest to them in order to be hammered drunk 24/7.  The second edition will look at how old men can age gracefully while ignoring those closest to them in order to be hammered drunk 24/7...while visiting their respective colleges.  Let's take a look at the "College Alumnus Life Cycle" while remembering that college was the best time of your lives...and it will only end if we allow it to.

The "I Can't Adjust to the Real World" Alumnus-I know I've said this before, but leaving college and entering real society is a lot like a young tiger pup leaving the zoo and entering the jungle.  In other words, fresh college graduates have almost no training or experience for how to survive in the wild, and will probably be eaten and/or starve to death in their first 6 months.  I mean, is it realistic to expect anyone to suddenly adjust their priorities from getting hammered and paying for pizza with their parent's credit cards to staring at a computer screen for 8 hours a day and paying for Ramen Noodles and Jak's frozen turd pizza with their own money?  Of course it isn't, but that's what happens in the real world. Well unless you keep the rent's Capital One card...then you still don't pay for shit.

Anyways these new alumni hate their lives so much that they are forced to retreat back into the college environment as much as humanly possible...maybe even 4 weekends in a row if they are unable to make new friends or take responsibility for any of their actions (like me).  And while these alumni are mocked 24/7 for returning to their old stomping grounds, nothing has really changed for them.  We still frat with the bros, pound motor oil flavored liquor, creep on wasted chicks at shitty rat infested house parties (don't blame these guys though, blame the code written in every man's DNA that says "tackle drunk bitches") and pass out wearing a shirt but no underwear on the main campus drag (bottomless, now we're cookin...with gas).  After all we haven't changed...society has just tried to change us.  And that is something we never will accept.  Never.

The "Too Cool for School" Alumnus-Until now.  Look, there comes a point and time however where each and every returning alumni starts to think that "college life" is beneath them.  No one is quite sure what triggers this change either.  For some it's finding professional success.  For others it's entering a serious relationship with someone they found on eharmony who really, really loves cats.  And for the weak minded it may be a forced stint in Alcoholics Anonymous, which has historically never accepted the perfect healthy lifestyle choices made by college students and/or Charlie Sheen. 

Whatever the reason, these "too cool for school" snobs are a shell of their former selves.  Yes they may come back to campus for a football game or two, but they always end up tailgating with old people.  Yeah they may stop by the frat house for a quick brew or tour, but they always end up sleeping in hotel rooms instead of crashing bottomless outside the bars or sleeping next to the toilet in the frat castle's bathroom.  Sure they may get hammered at the bars, but creeping on roofied co-eds at the house parties which represent the true collegiate experience?  Forget about it.  Somewhere along the way these once great champions had their spirits broken.  It may happen to all of us at one point, but it's still a God damn shame.  A God damn shame.

The "Young Family" Alumnus-You know the guys who bring their wives and young children with them to the frat palace for their trip back down memory lane?  Look it's one thing to give the fam a quick tour of your old double on the third floor before sending them to the local Chucky Cheese with mommy while you get shit housed with the bros...it's a complete other thing to pass on the booze and brothers to go to Chucky Cheese with them, therefore putting your children's happiness over your own.  Come on man, you're back at college.  This is Old School not Daddy Day Care.  Both great movies, but one is a little more fun to reenact as a 35 year old then the other.  I'm just saying.

The "Just Divorced/Borderline Suicidal" Alumnus-Your middle-aged.  Your recently got divorced because your wife just realized, after 10+ years of marriage, that you are incapable of expressing human emotion.  You are buying don't kill yourself books for "a friend," but really reading them yourself.  Your life is in shambles, and there is no way it can ever get better...right?

Wrong.  It's time to relive your college glory.  It's time to get hammered drunk every Tuesday-Monday.  It's time to deep fry snickers bars at 4 in the morning.  It's time to creep harder than ever on anything and everything walking through campus (notice the lack of gender distinction in that statement.  See the end of youtube vid #1 below for clarification).  It's time to bring home a hooker and have her die of a crack overdose while you are covered in blood that you vomited all over yourself.  What, you say that last thing never happened in college, but instead it was the climax of the season premier of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (see youtube video #2 below)Well who the hell cares...give it a try.  After all, if it's good enough for Charlie Day...then it's got to be good enough for an old, divorced guy hanging around 19 year olds at a college campus too.

The "Living Through Your Son" Alumnus-Look all great men love to party.  So if you are fortunate enough to have a son one day, then you better hope he loves to party too.  So once your son reaches college don't forget to go up to campus and show him how it's done every once in a while.  After all you need to be a role model.  You're the boy's father...not Charles Barkley.

The "Bankrupt/Homeless" Alumnus-If Donald Trump taught me one thing, besides how to kill a viable alternative to the NFL or make Joan Rivers look like a competent celebrity business executive, it's that all great men eventually fall.  I mean if The Donald can go bankrupt, then each and every one of us will at some point.  That's a just a stone cold fact. 

And while most of us will overcome this financial set back, just like The Donald did, some of us inevitably will not.  For instance look at the homeless guy who gets drunk but drinking your left over beers, and whose lone source of income is turning in the cans of those very same beers for 3 cents a pop, that I referenced in the introduction.  I bet you didn't know that he was a communications major who rushed in the fall of '68 and was a millionaire before he invested all his money in the search engine Northern Lights did you?  And if he still has the cahones to get hammered drunk on his old college campus after the hand that life dealt him...then each and every one of us should too.  Stone cold fact #2 right there.

The "Old, Senile and Rich" Alumnus-I'm talking about the super old, super senile elderly dudes that party harder than anyone else on this whole God damn list right here.  Are these guys possibly racist like the senile, old judge in Curb Your Enthusiasm? Yeah, they could be.  But they are also super rich.  And they are buying up the campus bar because they subscribe to the Warren Buffet "if I leave any money to my children then I am just coddling them because I love them and want them to succeed in life" theory, which means they have to spend every cent they have before they die.  Now I may hate senile racism, but I love booze.  And I really, really love free booze.  So is it worth sacrificing your integrity and listening to ignorance to drink for free for a night?  Yeah it definitely is. No doubt about that one.

Text Update and Big Ups
My text messaging score since September 16th is a lackluster +199 (164-inbox, 134-sent, 5 from females).  I know this represents a recently low point for me when it comes to communicating with the opposite sex, but oh well.  As Justin Timberlake says "what goes around comes back around" or something like that. Also my twitter score is holding solid with 188 followers so, that's semi decent news for my life right now.

I have a couple big ups to extend in this post.  First to Michael Kovach for sending me the first youtube video below...I thank you.  Also to Mike, D-boy, Seal, Drewski, Dubs, Soup Can, AE, Lit Man, Hort, EDDIE BOYD, Silly DIlly Hess, my main man Dalt, my main main man Will Mack, and everyone else who helped inspire this post during my most recent trip back to the college life...props on that fellas.  Finally to the man, the myth, the legend my man Tex...thanks for being a hero and an inspiration to an entire state that let George W. Bush own a professional baseball team.

Back next week with a look at a new and interesting Sack Artist Production.

In Hoc,
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"
 
 
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Dear Readers,
As all of you know yet another era ended this past Sunday night, and once again...the world will never be as good of a place as it was before.  Now, just to be clear, this was not the era of smokin' hot co-eds + paralyzed QB's + long haired fullbacks who make every queer in Texas hard with just one devilish smile that ended just a few short weeks and/or months ago.  No, this was something entirely different all together. You see this was the era of manhood.  This was the era of fame.  This was the era of of high-powered, bigoted against everyone but Jews (because they are one) Hollywood agents and their pudgy, heterosexually challenged Asian assistants.  This...was the era of Entourage.

And it was an era that will never be seen again.  I know hipsters and other people who think they are smarter/cooler than Albert Einstein and George Clooney's love child love to mock Entourage as some sort of bro sideshow that enables meat heads to drink copious amounts of muscle milk and break patio furniture after Johnny Drama drops 15 f bombs every Sunday night, and maybe they are right.  Maybe the show actually did demean females, or employed borderline retarded actors, or poked fun at the homosexual Asian assistant turned agent community (see youtube video #1 below to see what I'm talking about) or was just plain garbage that was simply all about Sloan giving frat bros boners, but...who the hell cares?  The show was entertaining and funny, even if never met some thick-rimmed glasses wearer's criteria for "art." 

Besides, at the end of the day, what does "art" really mean?  Does it mean creating characters who make you jealous because they are famous/know a famous person and you are/do not?  Does it mean making womanizing and cocaine abuse not seem all that bad because, if you have enough money, you will eventually be able to overcome the problems they create?  Does it mean creating a television show that stars a movie star, a pot smoking reptile, a super emotional leprechaun, Matt Dillon's brother and someone who says lines like "even Sadaam Hussein had to hang a few without assistants?"  Yeah it probably does.  And even if it doesn't...then that's just too damn bad.  Even if Entourage was never something real, even if it was just a small distraction from our own pathetic lives...it still meant something to me.  After all, if there is ever a life lesson worth learning...it's that television is always better than real life.  That's what Vinny Chase and the boys taught me.  And hopefully you all took the time to soak that up as well. 

What Hurts The Most
Is being so close.  Anyways, now that Entourage has been gone for almost a full 108 hours, I think it is time to look at the gaping holes that the show's absence has already caused in my life.  These are aspects of the show, it's setting and it's characters that will never be reconstructed in popular culture...no matter how hard Mark Wahlberg and the funky bunch may try. 

1) Johnny Drama-The non talented actor brother of a real Hollywood superstar (Matt Dillon) playing the non-talented actor brother of an imaginary Hollywood superstar?  Talk about your healthy dose of irony.  I mean honestly will there ever be another TV character who wears ridiculously looking fedoras and makes them look cooler than one of Brad Pitt's cartigans?  Will there ever be another character who bangs bodybuilders, french models, prostitutes and furry's through the course of only 96 episodes?  Will there ever be another person (real or imaginary) in the history of the world who will inspire my parent's to name our yellow lab puppy after him?  I think we can safely say that the answer to all of these questions is no.  And if that paragraph didn't convince you that Entourage is one of the greatest 5 or 10 television shows ever made...then nothing ever will.  But I will keep trying anyway.

2) LLOYD!!!-Imagine if Lucy Liu's character gained 50 lbs., shrank 3.4 inches, magically sprouted a penis, turned her shapely breasts into flabby man boobs, became a raging homosexual, started wearing stylish argyle sweater vests and cut her hair super short in the next Charlie's Angels sequel (which we can only pray to God actually gets made).  Now imagine if Cameron Diaz's character magically became a Jewish dude who was Lucy's boss and yelled at her non stop for being gay and/or Asian.  Now imagine if Lucy's character overcame the odds to become the head of the television department at Cameron's agency and somehow was able to find Matt Dillon's autistic brother a job on an animated TV series co-starring Andrew Dice Clay.  And now imagine how awesome a movie that would be.  Well that's Entourage in a nut shell.  Just like Charlie's Angels Fuller Throttle...except way better.

3) The Cameos-Not to steal ideas from Chuck Klosterman or anything, but one of my favorite parts of Entourage was seeing marginally famous people like William Fichtner (the prison guard QB in Adam Sandler's version of The Longest Yard) and John Galecki (some dude from some not funny show on CBS) on the show and wondering if they were playing themselves or a fictional character.  I mean Galecki may be sort of famous I guess, but honestly if you saw him walking down the street you would think he was just some guy who had frizzy hair because his boyfriend's jizz got stuck in there like 5 years ago.  Now if you mix the suspense of the real person/character game with cameos from legitimate star athletes (Adrian Peterson, Amare Stoudemire, Ryan Howard, Drew Brees), well respected actors (Wahlberg, Zac Efron, Matt Damon), famous musicians (T.I., Mary J Blige, Bono) and Andrew Dice Clay you are really onto something here.  Something that can't be replicated, accept in real life...where all famous people are best friends with each other.  Or something like that.

4) Frank the Tank's Wife-Remember when you first watched Old School and you hated Frank the Tank's wife because she was being such a bitch?  I mean who wouldn't want to eat some frozen yogurt or a whole meal of food or go home and throw on the Sisquo CD with arguably the most hilarious movie characters of all time right? 

So the question now becomes...what changed?  Why is Frank the Tank's sucky wife suddenly such a plus for Entourage?  Is she less of a bitch?  Of course not...the fact that she could even consider divorce from such a perfect husband like Ari Gold proves that.  Is she more open to frozen yogurt?  Possibly, but (unlike Curb Your Enthusiasm) pink berry wasn't featured in this HBO phenom so...there's really no way of knowing.  So what the hell is different you ask?  Well Frank the Tank's wife got hot.  Super hot.  Super slutty, wearing trashy/hooker lingerie on premium cable like this is a softcore porn hot.  And that is more than enough for anyone 40 year-old female who suddenly reverses the aging process and gets hotter with age by doing pilates/getting plastic surgery to redeem herself in my book.  Now if only she learned to appreciate the wonderful men (Ari Gold/Frank the Tank) in her life?  Then she'd really be on to something here.

5) Gratuitous Nudity-Like Mrs. Ari and her super hot milf lingerie, Entourage featured more than enough boner enticing shots of chicks (that really didn't advance the plot along at all) to keep any red blooded male's adrenaline flowing.  Think about the three or four pair of tits you get to see from the 100's of chicks Vinny Chase smangs.  Think about the naked shots of the hookers Dom brings home, which are entirely unnecessary since you could hear the moaning emanating from your TV in the living room while taking a dump in the toilet in your attitic.  And now, think about Sloan being within 500 feet of the camera (more on this later).  You all get my drift now don't you.  I mean once True Blood goes off the air, this gratuitous softcore porn quality nakedness phenomenon is going to be over.  In fact, if you limit strictly to human's being naked, it kind of already is.  And that's sad.  It's just sad.

6) Anything Ari Has Ever Said-Everyone loves someone clever.  Everyone, who isn't a part of a racial/gender minority/sexual orientation, loves someone who is racist and/or bigoted against woman/homosexuals.  Now Ari Gold is a clever racist/bigot against woman and gays so no matter who you are...you love at least 50% of the things he says.  Now I dare you to watch the second youtube video below and not agree with me.

7) Turtle Lives the American Dream-Turtle lives the life every man dreams about.  I mean think about it.  A fat, weed addicted high school drop out with no noticeable skills or ability who gets to 1-live in a mansion, 2-drive porches and Rolls Royces phantoms, 3-bang hookers, tequila models and actresses from The Sopranos and 4-Have Mark Cuban's cell phone number.  Now notice the benefits that can come from growing up poor in Queens, as long as you try your hardest to have the fictionalized version of Mark Wahlberg grow up just a few blocks away, be your age...and become your best friend. That's what we should all be aspiring if you ask me.  That's really the American dream.

8) Friendship-Have you ever heard of another show based on the friendship between four to six single 20 or 30 somethings that all live together and become intertwined in each others' daily lives?  Yeah me neither.  Once again Entourage is the first of it's kind...which obviously makes it awesome.

9) Sloan-Look at the picture above.  Try to control the pubescent excitement in your trousers.  Wonder if any woman could ever be hotter than her.  And then realize that she almost single handily (with some help from Michael Buffer and Dave Matthews) made You Don't Mess With the Zohan an all-time classic film. 

10) Hug it Out Bitch-To quote Michael Scott quoting Ari Gold for the first part of this quotation "Hug it out bitch.' That's what men say to each other after a fight.  They hug it out, and in doing so they just let it go, and walk away, and they're done.  Not a good idea to say that to women, however I have found.  It doesn't translate."  You see Entourage has changed the way men interact with each other.  And it's made us more respectful of woman in the process. Because...we now know exactly what not to say to them.

So there you have it...Entourage is officially the shit.  And, if you still somehow don't agree with that...then you are a communist.  And if Joseph McCarthy taught me one thing it's that if you deny that you actually are a communist then you really are, without a doubt, a communist. So here's a few tips for all of you out there who love capitalism and the American way of life and don't want to be executed for treason. First-Be a man, Second-love Entourage, Third-cry for a few weeks now that it's over...and Fourth-move the hell on.  After all...that's what Vinny and the boys would have wanted.  And that's all that should matter to each and every one of us right now.  Entourage may be dead, but...it will never be forgotten.  VICTORY!!!!

Text Update and Big Ups
My current text messaging score is a commanding +352 (268-inbox, 222-sent, 38 from females) which represents the all-time high score for overweight 24-year-olds who are afraid of the outside world like Sean Connery in Finding Forrester.  Also my twitter score has rebounded somewhat back up to 188 followers so...not a bad social week for a shut-in like myself.

I don't really have many big ups to extend in this post.  I do gotta thank my boy JJ Leonard for his encouraging words after the last post and for being born on September 10th.  Also I'm gonna show some love to my boy Corey Kossman who showing me the first youtube video below.  I am also pretty sure Corey doesn't know this exists so...somehow that makes this all even better.

Back next week with a post that honestly couldn't possibly be wors
 
 
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Dear Readers,
As all of you know the summer of Sack is now officially over, which is not good news for anybody.  This may be especially true for my readers in Siberia/Minnesota who now must endure 9 months of complete darkness and threats of vampire attacks/terribly acted Josh Hartnett movies.  But never fear all you suffers of Communism/the Minnesota Timberwolves because you aren't the only ones who are petrified by the coming seasonal change.  After all if misery really does love company, then you Stalin/David Kahn oppressed souls out there should be ecstatic...because you now have plenty of it.  That's right...it's back to school time.

This very week millions of students around the world are being forced into an environment of learning against their will.  And, for all you illiterates out there who want to know what school is really like, let me help you. First imagine a prison then...don't change anything.  In fact my high school experience, with it's all male occupants, GED equivalent educational system (at least according to the state of Missouri), strong homo erotic tendencies, often poisoned food (why else would I throw up after eating just 100 pizza rolls?), 45 minutes/day of free physical activity and tobacco based currency system is probably as close to an actual prison as any institution that charges $470,329 a year for tuition can possibly be.  And people really thought we all had privileged upbringings? Come on society.

Now you are all probably saying "hey Sack if your school experience sucks worse than Edward Norton's prison time in American History X...then why the hell are you still there?"  And while that may be a valid question, the answer is really very simple.  You see, like Brooks in The Shawshank Redemption...I am terrified to leave and live in the outside world.  After all, school itself hasn't really given me or prepared me for much of anything.  It's given me no confidence.  It's given me no knowledge.  It's given me no skills or ability that can ever lead to me getting a job/becoming a productive member of society.  In reality all my time in school has given me is fear.  In fact it's given me the very real fear that, just like Brooks, I will be unable to adjust to a life of freedom, become overwhelmed in the real world, and eventually hang myself at a halfway house.  At the end of the day school may be for fools, look at me (or the guy from Mr. Deeds in youtube video #1 below), but it is the only life I know.  I just hope all of you out there don't follow in my footsteps. Or if you do, that you at least end up like Tim Robbins does in Shawshank...a rich white dude chilling on the beach with Morgan Freeman. Then, and only then, all the pain and suffering might be worth it after all.

How to Survive Forced Education
However just because I have exposed our educational system for the penitentiary that it really is, that doesn't mean I cannot enlighten all you students out there with my knowledge about schooling itself.  Now whether you are forced into continued schooing by the liberal government commis in D.C., some sort of BS pressure from parents who don not want their children to be truly happy, or your own ill-conceived notions about what can make you a financial/spiritual success, listen up as I drop 22 years worth of schooling without parole on you fools...and tell you all how to survive in the classroom/hallways/cafateria.

1) Play Dumb-You know how all criminals claim to be insane so they can serve their time in a mental hospital instead of the state pen?  Well school is no different trust me...I know.  You see, when I started 1st grade my  teacher agreed to sent me to the "special" reading class because she thought that I couldn't spelled my name.  However what she didn't know was that I could have spelled my name if I had had any idea what it was.  At this point in life I honestly thought my name was either 1-"Get me a fresh beer" or 2-"The chunker who couldn't walk till he was 34 months old" because those were the only ways my dad would talk to me/describe me to other people.  And when I wrote these terms under name on my school work my teacher treated me like I was just some janitor at MIT trying to solve genius level math equations. 

So she decided to put me in class with the Simple Jacks of the world, and let me tell you...it was the most glorious experience of my life.  I mean instead of learning how to read all I'd do for entire class periods was eat cookies, run around in circles and fart in the bathtub (and think it was hilarious) until I eventually passed out shirtless in a gigantic pile with the other slow children.   That apparently was what special ed at St. Margaret of Scotland was all about, and I must say...I wouldn't never trade those couple of weeks for anything. 

2) Stay With Your Own Gender-Look I know you are all probably thinking that the worst part about prison is never being able to interact with the other sex right? Wrong.  In fact being in an all-weiner (or all-vajayjay) environment is probably one of the best things about being incarcerated and, if you play your cards right, being in school too.  I mean think about it.  When you are trying to shank a member of a rival gang or smuggling a few cigarettes into your butt hole or dropping an extra loose deuce in the prisoner toilets, do you really have time to have to worry about impressing Martha Stewart and her fellow girlfriends in jump suits?

Of course not, and school is the exact same way.  I guess it's all about what you want from your schooling experience.  Do you really want to spend your time in the slammer trying to talk to chicks or do you want to spend it farting in your buddy's face?  Do you really want to have to worry about a lady walking into the unisex bathroom when your digestive system is unloading or do you want to be able to relax, light some candles and read the sport's page while you let nature take it's course?  And do you honestly want to have to comb your hair every morning or do you want to show up to school every day sporting Cameron Diaz's hair style from There's Something About Mary  like my main man Chuckles Schlafly did?  These are easy questions to answer, and they can only lead to one conclusion.  A school (or prison) with no vaginas (or penises) equals a more fun and carefree environment for its students/inmates.  And that's just a God damn fact.

3) Try Your Best to be Good Looking or Good at Sports-This kind of flies in the face of conventional prison knowledge, where being an attractive man can often mean a life of sexual enslavement and/or zero personal hygiene (Although I hear sports stars such as Michael Vick and Plaxico Burress actually never went to the pen, instead being forced to live in a La Quinta Inns and Suites in Wichita, Kansas for 2 years. This may or may not be worse than serving your time in a federal prison...I'm honestly not sure). 

However, the opposite is true in any sort of school.  I am not sure when the good looking kids/athletes start to distinguish themselves from the rest of the pack, but they start getting special treatment pretty f'in soon.  I mean if you don't either A-dunk or B-get compared to a young Paul Walker by a semi-attractive female teacher by the time you are in the 3rd grade...then you are definitely behind the 8 ball.  This means that you may actually have to do your homework, study for your tests and earn your grades based on your own merit.  And let's face it that sucks.  After all nothing is better than getting things like money, power or academic achievement (that you could never actually attain using your own brain) through nothing other than your good looks/agility.  Just ask Anna Nicole Smith about that one.  Too soon?  Naw...too late if anything.

4) Snitches Get Stitches-Do you know what happens to snitches in prison? No you say.  Well try turning in Joe Blow for cheating on his Latin Worksheet in the 11th grade, and you'll find out pretty f'in quick...and it's not pretty.  In fact it may or may not involve you being naked, a bucket of ice cubes, a 9 iron (and possibly some sort of 19th century bear trap).  That's all you really need to know right there.

5) Always Wear a Belt-I can vividly remember when Mr. Finan, the Dean of Students/Warden at St. Louis Priory School, told me I was going down the wrong path in life because I had broken the dress code by not wearing a belt.  Did it matter that Mr. Finan was a crotchety, middle-aged man who still rocked the 1970's mustache he may or may not have grown while he acted in pornos to help pay for his Harvard education?  No because, at the end of the day, he was right.  After all if you don't wear a belt, then your pants are gonna sag.  And everyone knows what wearing your pants around your ankles and showing off your bare ass means in prison.  Well everyone besides certain Rap stars.  Pants on the ground, pants on the ground...looking like a fool with your pants on the ground.

6) Don't Assume Females Carry Around Naked Pictures of Themselves in Their Purses-At one point in time there was a young, female math teacher at St. Louis Priory School, let's call her Ms. Vandavere.  Now Ms. Vandavere was a decent looking, fairly cute woman out in the real world.  However, once she entered the all-male confines of Priory...she became hottest woman this side of Xena the Warrior Princess.  I mean every guy, students and teachers alike, fawned over her 24/7.  I've honestly never seen a woman get so much attention in my entire life.

Now one time Ms. Vandavere just happened to be subbing in a 7th grade algebra class when a young male student, let's call him James Dolmes, decided she might be carrying naked pictures of herself on her person.  "Only one way to find out" said James just as he rose from his seat, began rifling through her purse and eventually got caught trying her lip stick once Ms. Vandavere returned to the class.  Now imagine if a fairly unattractive female, let's say Sarah Jessica Parker, became a prison guard.  Would the prisoners go wild?  Of course they would.  Would they break into her purse in search of nuddy pics?  Absolutely.  Would they then get put into solitary confinement for the better part of the next decade until they started imagining themselves having conversations with Dennis Rodman in a wedding dress?  Alright that convo actually probably would happen eventually, but hopefully you get the picture I am painting here.  If not then...I guess I just can't help you.

7) Don't Drop the Soap-Alright this one is fairly obvious.  My question is, why can't we just put liquid soap in the prison showers so this whole "dropping a bar of soap" thing wouldn't really be a problem anyway?  I mean I know the federal deficit is skyrocketing, but this has got to be a worthwhile expenditure right?  Too bad I haven't paid my taxes for a longer period of time than anyone this side of Happy Gilmore's grandma or I might actually have a say in protecting prison inmates...and their butt holes.  Now that's a charity worth donating too right there.  Protect Inmate's Assholes, and Give them some Old Spice Hair and Body Wash.

By the way my insistence on liquid soap for prisoners does nothing to change my favorite cheer at any high school sporting event.  "Don't drop the soap...cause we're coming from behind!!" will always have a special place in my heart...even if the analogy isn't exactly true in the prison world anymore.

Text Updates and Big Ups
My text messaging score since September 2nd is a strong +262 (193-inbox, 156-sent, 22 from females) which once again proves that going to an all boys school for 6 years did nothing to hamper my ability to interact socially with members of the opposite sex.  Also my twitter score is pretty stagnant as I am stuck on 186 followers.  This number is down from the 190 followers I had at one point yesterday...until I made an inappropriate joke about Reese Witherspoon and her car accident that led to me being shunned from society.

I do have a couple big ups to extend in this version of the blog.  First I gotta give it up to Danny boy Flynn who will always be mentioned as long as he keeps texting me excitedly every time he reads his name in here.  Also to Michael Kovach for showing me the 2nd youtube video below, this time one featuring him wearing a retarded mascot suit and being chased by killer squirrels/a slow kid with a jar of peanut butter.  Finally I also gotta thank Nelson Suarez (who I'm not sure has ever read this piece of poop) for liking my facebook status in which I referred to myself as a racist.  Way to go Nelson, you have made me so proud...of myself.

Back next week with a look at something that isn't very funny to anyone but myself.

In Hoc,
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"
 
 
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Dear Readers,
As all of you surely know, both because I've told you and just from my general demeanor/behavior, The Sack is from the screets.  In fact I'm so screet that I recently got a gigantic "Thug Life" tattoo across my stomach, which has inspired ESPN: The Magazine to write a story entitled "What if The Sack Artist Were Country," examining how my life may have turned out differently if I was not born and raised in my kill or be killed inner city environment.  And, while this question may never truly be answered, it is an interesting hypothetical to consider.  What if instead of growing up in the industrial/cultural/economic center of the modern, Western world (St. Louis, MO) I was brought up in a place where the number of cows/pigs you own represented financial prosperity? What if instead of learning to train pitbull puppies to chew the faces off other dogs and white people, I was taught to treat animals with respect and care in the hopes of one being able to earn a blue ribbon at the county fair?  And what if instead of having my inner city voice represent by Thug MC's like Tupac, Biggie and that detective in Law And Order: SVU, I was able to resonate with the likes of George Straight, Taylor Swift and that black guy from the College GameDay theme song? 

Well recently I've see how the country side of this great nation lives, and what their music represents.  And boy was I surprised by what I discovered.  You see I use to think that country music was all about having sex with a blood relative or never having to acknowledge minorities or being illiterate...but I couldn't have been more wrong.  Turns out country music is about thinking things like Freedom and Equality are good, and thinking things like terrorism and cancer are bad.  It's about standing up for things like law and order no matter what, while simultaneously encouraging listeners to drive their pickups hammered drunk on dusty dirty roads.  It's about valuing things like church attendance every Sunday or a new pair of Wranglers or a fresh tin of Copenhagen more than things like money or education or not getting mouth cancer.  It's even about having a loving, loyal dog who is your best friend instead of allowing him to be the killing machine that biology, and certain Philadelphia Eagle quarterbacks, want him to be.  All in all it's a very powerful, and worthwhile, message.

And I'm not trying to say that drinking whiskey is better than drinking 40's, or carrying shotguns is better than carrying gats, or that riding a bull is more fun than playing street ball or even that selling corn is better than selling rocks Joe Rogan.  After all this isn't about one side being better, or one musical style being superior, to another.  This is about being able to accept each others' differences, learn from them, and use that new found knowledge to make yourself a more complete person.  Because whether we listen to country, hip hop, rock, jazz, blues, bluegrass, classical or books are tape..we are all Americans.  We are all the same. And, at the end of the day, we all love each other.  Unless you are listening to some sort of doofy punk music that offends my eardrums.  Then you're just SOL in my book. And, unfortunately for all you hipsters out there...my book is really the only one that matters.  Sorry guys...but that's just the way the cookie crumbles.  Better luck next year.  Maybe by then I will have a truly open mind.  Yeah I know...I wouldn't hold my breath on that one either.

The Sack discovers his Country Roots
Now I'm sure you are all asking "hey Sack what inspired this new found appreciation for the country music lifestyle?" Well you see this past Saturday I attended a Jason Aldean concert in Tinley Park, Illinois, and as you can probably tell...it was an eye opening experience.  Let's take a look at my journey towards becoming a true, 100%, red, white and blue blooded American son of a gun...shall we?  Of course we shall.

Saturday, August 27th
2:02 P.M.-I'm only about 2 beers deep when I get a gigantic burrito from Chipotle, yet somehow I manage to spill 2/3rds of its contents on the floor. Do I eat it off the ground? Of course I do...I don't want to be wasteful. Besides I followed the 2 minute, 37 second rule so...it's really not that gross when you think about it. 

2:13 P.M.-I'm riding in a car heading for the Chicago suburbs when I find out that if a driver in the state of Illinois gets caught allowing one of his passengers to have an open container of alcohol in the vehicle, then he (the driver) gets a DUI.  Look I am all for stringent drinking and driving laws, but do any of you out there really think it's fair that someone who is just driving a car while one of his buddies drinks a beer is punished just as severely as someone who takes 19 shots of tequila then wrecks his car in the median of Interstate 90 in the middle of the Chicago Loop?  Of course it is.  After all...the state of Illinois never gets anything wrong when it comes to governing.  Just ask one of their 167 death row inmates who had their sentences commuted in 2003 when it was discovered that there was absolutely no evidence against them.  They'll tell you what's up.

2:40 P.M.-I arrive at my good friend Matt Davis' house, and immediately hop in the shower.  The entire Davis household can thank me later for my stirring rendition of the O-Town classic "All or Nothing" that I belted from the bathroom.  Shower + Singing = Me eventually winning season 49 of American Idol...when the only contestants left are me and 3 or 4 homeless dudes.

4:12 P.M.-I'm a few more beers deep when Matt's buddy Mike shows up in his 1951 Buick Lesabre to take us to the liquor store.  When I get into the Lesabre's back seat the entire passenger side of the car drops down so far that it's dragging on the street.  Looks like that extra meat/black beans I ate off the Chiptole floor may have been a bad idea after all huh?

4:24 P.M.-Me, Matt and Mike buy a handle of Early Times Whiskey and 4 liters of Coke.  By the end of the night me and my associates will have polished off 3 handles of Early Times in the past 7 days.  Look like somebody (Early Times) should thank me for that bump in their stock prices.  Now that's insider trading at it's finest.

4:57 P.M.-We show up at Mullen's Bar where we will be meeting the rest of our crew before heading to the concert.  Now Mullen's is a nice, clean suburban bar where upper middle class families show up to have a quiet, early dinner or a husband and wife can sit at the bar and enjoy a glass of Merlot.  It's not generally the kind of place where 17 guys dressed in flannel shirts and cowboy hats try to drink their weight in whiskey.  Well...not until now.

5:09 P.M.-My other roommate Chad, and about 12 of his closest friends, show up at the bar.  And, as I alluded to earlier, out of the 13 or so dudes in our crew, 12 are dressed like the Brawny paper towel man (flannel shirts)...and 1 is wearing a graphic t.  Looks like somebody (Matt) is gonna stick out like a Jersey Shore cast member visiting a lumberjack convention...doesn't it?

6:02 P.M.-Our stretch hummer arrives to take us to the concert.  At this point I am just very disappointed that we didn't get the stretch Ford F-150.  Now we're never gonna fit in at this thing.

6:03 P.M.-The hummer comes equipped with 2 full bottles of liquor and a cooler of beer.  Of course this is in addition to the handle of whiskey, 3 cases of Bud Light and 15 kilos of black tar heroin we brought ourselves.  Hey it's a limo so...the law doesn't apply here right?

6:05 P.M.-Me, Matt and another kid Doug are seated in the very back seat of the hummer so...by this point everyone has forgotten we exist.  And people think segregation is dead in America? Not by a long shot.  Rosa Parks would be so ashamed.

6:09 P.M.-By this point Matt, Doug and I are trying anything to get someone to notice us, but nothing has worked.  So I decided to yell obscene things at the chicks in front of us like "Hey, I wanna hold your hand and take a long walk through the Home Depot picking out shower curtains with you."  Still nothing.  Looks like these chicks are pretty loose.

6:11 P.M.-Doug is telling me and Matt about his stand up routine.  It basically goes "I've been trying to lose some weight lately so...I started wearing roller blades on the treadmill." 1-Is there a punchline in there? Eh...you guys be the judge and 2-How long till Richard Simmons markets this as his next exercise routine? The over/under is 3 weeks.

6:47 P.M.-The hummer is stuck in some serious traffic when we make what is at least our 3rd piss stop, and this time I get into the action.  Is there anything more fun than pissing on the side of the interstate for half the state of Illinois to see? Not in my book.  Unless there is a Chucky Cheese around. Naw, I take that back...I'm sick of Chucky Cheese.

6:58 P.M.-Piss stop #4.  Does anyone else find it interesting that in the state of Illinois you can't drink alcohol in a regular car, but when you are in a stretch hummer you can not only drink but also do heroin, yell obscenities at females and piss in front of an entire freeway packed with cars?  Looks like if you are rich enough to ride in a limo...you are rich enough to do whatever the f you want.  That's capitalism at it's finest right there.

7:39 P.M.-We pull up at the concert and all the alcohol is gone...I think.  Everything is becoming a blur at this point...for obvious reasons.

7:42 P.M.-We walk onto the lawn at Tinley Park and what's the first thing I notice? 50,000 flannel shirts...and 1 graphic t.  Matt Davis probably feels kinda like that one white guy who went to the Million Man March/has been in a Spike Lee movie right now. Or the one black guy who is at this concert.  Either comparison is pretty valid at this point.

7:49 P.M.-What's the second thing I've noticed about this concert?  The slope of the lawn is just way too steep.  You figure that most outdoor, concert venues have a lawn that sits on a hill with a slope of what, maybe 30 degrees or something?  Well this hill I'm standing on feels like it's almost 90 degrees.  And what's more safe than having 50,000 hammered drunk people stand on a perpendicular hill?  Probably exposing babies to nuclear radiation or selling firearms to Sylvester Stallone or vacationing in Jurassic Park/Detroit.  Yeah...those all definitely are. Well, maybe besides the whole visiting Detroit thing.

8:02 P.M.-Someone is smoking marijuana.  Really?  At a country music concert?  All these flag wavin good ole' boys are gonna let someone smoke an illegal, mind altering drug on their turf?  Looks like they have more in common with hip hop/Dave Matthews fans than I thought they did. 

8:23 P.M.-Mike, Matt, Doug and I are looking for a place to piss.

8:24 P.M.-We all decide to just whip it out and piss through the fence covering the side of the lawn area, of course soaking the people standing below the hill with urine in the process.  However before we can begin our piss off a security guard sees us and quickly breaks it up.  Looks like once you're not riding in the stretch hummer anymore...you're free pee party is over pretty f'in quick.

9:02 P.M.-In my daze I see a guy double fisting a beer and a Mike's Hard Lemonade.  Talk about a man's man.  After all nothing is more manly than alternating between a true, American staple like Budweiser and a fruity, 0.03% alcohol beverage like Mike's Hard.  Especially when you are doing it at a country music concert. 

9:35 P.M.-Matt and I see the one black guy in the concert and start running after him (not in a racist way, but in a "we gotta see it to believe it way." I swear).  However, Matt gets his foot tangled in the strap of a lady's purse and drags it throughout the entire chase.  And who do you think security would have blamed for the "stolen" purse if they caught up to us, Matt or the black guy?  I'll let you guys be the judge.  (Spoiler Alert...they blamed Matt.  Cause it was his fault)

10:12 P.M.-I put a little bit of chewing tobacco in.  Which means that, as of right now, 98.435% of the people at this concert are dipping/chewing tobacco.  However, only 59.68% of those people will eventually get their jaw removed due to mouth cancer one day.  And people really think there's some sort of connection there? Come on.

10:23 P.M.-I see two people kissing, then hear both of them yell "You can keep that Skoal baby!!" at one another.  Now that's what I call "country hotness" right there!!  God I feel like I'm on the set of a CMT softcore porno right now. And it was even more awesome than it sounds.

10:31 P.M.-A couple of guys ride past us on horses and start shooting their guns in the air.  EEEEEEEEEHAWWWWW!!!  (By the way how much more entertaining would it be if this was how they ran the Kentucky Derby? Armed jockeys picking each other off with shot guns? Yes please.  Or at the very least this horse/gun/race idea could be used as the storyline for a movie where armed prisoners race horses, risking their lives in an attempt to earn their freedom.  Just get Jason Statham to star and call the movie Death Race 3: Where Hooves Replace Tires. Hey I think I am on to something here...assuming this movie isn't already in pre-production. Yeah...I bet it is too.)

10:45 P.M.-My roommate Chad thinks it's hilarious to repeatedly attempt to head butt me in the nuts. Come on man, I don't deserve this. After all...I'm the one guy here who isn't wearing jeans.  Well I guess if wearing denim pants earns you a punch in the balls, then khaki shorts should probably get you a head butt in the scrot sack huh? Hey, I ain't complaining..what's fair is fair.

11:02 P.M.-Jason Aldean begins playing his hit song "Dirt Road Anthem" uninterrupted.  Man look's like I'm losing that 10 bucks I bet on Kanye West storming the stage, grabbing the microphone and telling Aldean that Beyonce is infinitely more talented/has infinitely bigger breasts than he does at this point in the show.  This bet may look stupid on paper but hey if someone gives you 10,000 to 1 odds...you take them.  If John Cougar Mellencamp ever wins an Oscar (or if Tony Danza wins a grammy/Oprah and Roise O'Donnell find a way to conceive a bi-racial child/Joan Rivers actually finds the fountain of youth and really does live forever)...I'm going to be a very rich man.

11:29 P.M.-I come to and am sitting in the stretch hummer.  Let's get this party started...again.

Sunday, August 28th
12:01 A.M.-I wake up and start freaking out.  Apparently I've been sleeping for over 30 minutes and now I am riding in a stretch hummer with 12 complete strangers, 4 dudes I know and a Hispanic driver...everyone of whom appears to be asleep.  Who the f is driving the car!?!?! (I know I use this line a lot, but if this doesn't sound like the plot for America's next great horror film...then I don't know what does.  Get on that shit master of terror M. Night Shyamalan, you know...the guy who made The Last Airbender).

12:12 A.M.-I'm gonna puke...a lot.  My only goal now is to projectile vomit with enough force to soak everyone else in the car.  Why do I want to do this you ask? Well 1-Getting projectile vomit on people is hilarious...just ask Dean Wormer and that fat kid from Animal House and 2-If these chicks get covered in puke then my odds of hooking up with them go up to 1 in 1.2345 trillion...so you're saying there's a chance?

1 A.M.-The hummer drops us in the middle of some dark, suburban road.  I clearly have no idea where I am.  Now I finally now how blind people feel when they're drunk. (Get it? Cause blind people never know where they are either...especially when they're hammered. I just wish I had a seeing eye dog to get me home.)

1:21 A.M.-Me, Mike and Matt somehow get back to the Davis household just in time for Matt to puke straight shots of whiskey into the toilet.  Now that's what country music is all about right there son!!

2:13 A.M.-Somehow I end up in Matt's driveway, retrieving a pizza and wearing nothing but my boxer shots.  If I were more sober, I'd be pretty sure this was just a giant, sting operation that would eventually lead to my debut on the hit FOX TV show Cops. I redact my earlier statement...this is really what country music living is all about son!!  Looks like the rookie hit a homer in his first at bat baby!!

Text Updates and Big Ups
My current text messaging score is a healthy +161 (138-inbox, 123-sent, 8 from females), which isn't the worst showing I've ever produced.  Also my twitter score has semi-rebounded up to 188 followers so...looks like I am kinda back on top of the social networking world right now.

I have a couple of big ups to proffer in this edition of the blog.  First to Matt, Mike, Chad, Doug and everyone else who accompanied me on my country music expedition...why don't you all give yourselves a giant pat on the back.  Second to blog mainstays like Danny Boy Flynn and Jay Boy Leonard...thanks for your constant support and feedback.  Also to my own mother for objecting to my constant use of the word "penis", I thank you.  After all, it's that level of uncomfortably that I strive to cause all my readers to reach on a weekly basis.  Finally I'd be remiss if I didn't thank Michael Kovach for showing me our first youtube video below, which stars a Akron, Ohio native who recently beat Kovach in horse without getting a single letter (and I heard recently signed a letter of intent to play college basketball at Duke).  Thanks Michael...you're a big help to the blog as always.

No everyone remember not to throw paper clips at people (see youtube vid #2) and I'll be back next week bigger, stronger yet somehow...steroid free.

In Hoc,
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"