As I am sure almost all of you know, both because you love my incoherent ramblings on inconsequential non-sense and because you almost murdered yourself after discovering that my my previous post centered around community colleges, the Sack has been gone from the Internet limelight for a while. Now I know y'all are curious as to where I've been because, like I already said, you were all well aware that I was gone. So since I can feel that you guys are asking me a straight and direct question by staring straight through your computer screens and into my heart, I guess I should give you all a straight and direct and heartfelt answer: I was ballin' outta control (R.I.P. Nate Dogg) and mastering shiznit.
Now let's focus on that second part--mastering shiznit. As we all have learned through various forms of pop culture and by reaching down under our tight whities to rub our man (or woman) parts (get used to this theme suckas), becoming a master is pretty much the coolest thing ever. Just look at Russel Crow in MASTER and Commander, or Tiger Woods when he's running through Waffle House waitress after winning the MASTERs, or every dude at the strip club who pays for his stay in the Champagne room that will lead to his eventual divorce with his MASTERcard, or every teenager 12 and up whose parentals have internet access (bate ref #2. Yeah...I'm counting). The point of all these puns and awkward adolescent themed jokes is pretty easy to figure out. Masters have all the fun. Masters rule the world.
And now I am one of them. That's right ladies and gents this past Saturday, at a ceremony I did not attend (so these are events I cannot verify), I was officially named a Master of Writing, Reading, and not being stupid. This was the cherry on top of a life spent mastering things like art, drinking alcohol, eating pizza rolls, laughing at Rob Schneider's performance in You Don't Mess With the Zohan, not hating black people because I voted for some other dude from some other race in a national election, not being phased by people walking in on me while I was dumping in a porter potty at the Kentucky Derby, smanging the ladies and mostly...being alone in rooms with an ample supply of hand lotion (ref #3 FYI).
Basically what this past Saturday proved is that I really am a Master of All Trades. So, on that note...I will sit by my phone silently, refusing to move until the congratulatory texts, emails, tweets and instagram pictures of the handwritten notes you have crafted for me come in. I thank all of you for your support in advance.
In the inexact words of Kenny Powers standing by a master, like myself, through good times and bad is not easy. I mean it's not as hard as all the actual work I've done, but hey...it's still something. Something all 4.3 of you are proud of I'm sure.
The Things Sack Has Mastered...A Tradition Like No Other
So now that I've regaled (I have no idea if this is a real word) all of you with my pronouncement that I am now the Master of All Trades, let me go into more detail to prove it to all of you out there who are somehow incredilous about this, Barrack Obama being born in America, and Prometheus not being a realistic prophecy of the death of Charlize Theron. Guys and gals, let me tell you about all the things that I have mastered, and then show you that I am who we all thought I was--the biggest baller this side of Paul Walker.
Sack Master #1: Master of Arts-This is how (I expect) the diploma conferred to me on Saturday to read: "Sachary L. Poelker, Master of Arts (Include nude sculptures of dudes with relatively average-sized dicks)." Do I know that my diploma says that? No. I've never seen it, or even been told by anyone that it is in fact a real and tangible object. This is pure conjecture on my part.
But that's besides the point. The point is that I have an MA, which guarantees me free entrance into art museums for life, a reduced rate on any prostitute that poses nude for a fellow artist, and a place in the history books alongside Picasso, DaVinci, that Dutch dude who cut off his ear, and James Franco. I am now a Master of Art. That, and any other declaration I have ever made on the Internet, can never be argued. Hey, did you hear that David Stern and Jim Rome had a lover's quarrel on the radio (Not that there's anything wrong with that)? Boom...toast.
Sack Master #2: Master of Boozin-The MB is arguably the most prestigious graduate degree given out by internationally renowned institutions of higher learning such as Harvard, Oxford, The Rancho Cucamonga male cheerleader academy, and The University of Bud Light. And I have had one for a long, long time.
In fact I earned my MB the first time I drank, when I got slammed on warm Natty Lights and was hung upside down from the rafters of the gym at CBC high school and beaten senseless by 14-year-old girls who shockingly knew how to use wiffle ball bats (you can read about it here). Apparently getting caught sneaking into their bathroom to gain some more "masterly" material (ref #4...I'm actually way behind where I thought I'd be at this point) is not as cute and adorable as Quagmire made it seem. OK that reference had less in common with my joke than I thought it would. I'm pretty drunk so...
Sack Master #3: Master of Pizza Roll Eating-Everyone knows that, in the world of competitive eating, pizza rolls are at the top of the heap. That's why my MPRE, and I am the only one in the world who has earned it by the way, means so God Damn much to me. It is so far ahead some Japanese dude eating a million hot dogs in 9 minutes, or some chunky loser traveling the country and failing to eat anything that makes him cool, or Tyrone Biggums scarfing down seconds of Buffalo testicles that it almost hilarious. That is if anything I have ever achieved could be called "hilarious"
How do I earn this MPRE you may be asking? Well, as if you didn't already know, at some point in high school I ate 100 pizza rolls in one sitting, then vomited on the stares of the dining hall (which I didn't clean up, or notify anybody about of course), then wrote a terribly awesome story about it 4 years later in college that I have since unsuccessfully submitted to approximately 6-49,000 literary journals (which represent a total of approximately 4-37 readers). To this day it is the greatest achievement of my entire life (slightly ahead of dressing up like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man for Halloween and becoming the 19th person I knew to attend multiple Rascal Flatts concerts). It will always be the most glorious day of my existence.
Barrack became president. Ronald Reagan literally tore down that East German wall thing by himself and forever ended Communist hockey. I reached the pizza roll century mark. I will always be a legend in the annals (hahahahaha) of human kind. Boom.
Sack Master #4: Master of Only Liking the Best Movies-Dude Where's My Car. You Don't Mess With the Zohan. Strange Wilderness. Over the Top. You, Me and Dupree. Jingle all the Way. High School Musicals 1-3. All 19 Die Hards. Everything Paul Walker has ever appeared in.
What do these films all have in common? They are all among the 50 greatest pieces of cinema in modern history. If you disagree with any of these statements then you are not on my level. If you are not on my level, then you need to get on my level. If you need to get on my level, then you are not a respected member of society. If you are not a respected member of society then you will never be able to afford the 2005 Ford Explorer that is owned by my parents, but driven by me. Y'all get what I'm saying yet home slices?
F*$k You logic.
Sack Master #5: Not Being a Racist-Look every one out there knows I am against racism in every way, shape or form. That is the way I live my life. That is the way I earned my MNBR. That is the way that I became the unanimous choice as 2009-2012 Sack Artist.com Man of the Year.
Here is the criteria for earning your MNBR, and becoming a certified non-racist. 1-If any black or other minority politician is on the ballot, you vote for them no questions asked, 2-You completely forgive Tiger Woods for all his sins and root for him in his upcoming, post apocalyptic match for human survival against Jesus Christ and the four horses of the apocalypse (Not idea who represents what here, just know I have a hell of an idea for a screenplay), 3-You can say at least 4 words in any foreign language (bano, soy, nino y caca (which is poop). Boom), 4-You love rap music, 5-You make fun of Tyler Perry, yet secretly harbor confusing sexual feelings about him, 6-You have never, and will never, work on Martin Luther King Day, and 7-You respect everyone, besides Hipsters and communists...and the Dutch.
Disclaimer: What I just wrote is not racist. It is over-simplistic and unskilled satire (well besides #7...I hope). If you can't understand the difference than you really think that I harbor confusing sexual feelings for Tyler Perry. Wait...
Sack Master #6: Master of Old Dudes Walkin Into Your Porter Potty at the Kentucky Derby-Ah, the good ole' MODWPPKD. Want the back story to this one? Well one time, when I was about 12 maybe, I was at the Kentucky Derby with my uncles and my cousin when I went to the porter potty to uh--release some build up.
Anyways I was sitting there, doing my business like a champ, when some old dude opened the door, took one look at the now public scene of me sitting on PP pot, loudly exclaimed "Uhhhhh" and then shut the door and disappeared from my life forever. You think I am embarrassed about this seminal moment in my adolescent development? Think again. I've rarely been prouder of my pubescent self.
I mean I touched a old man's life that day. Why do you think I left the door open? So no one could enjoy the free show?
Sack Master #7: Master of the Ladies-I've talked to 6 girls in my life. I've texted 4 of them. 2 of whom returned said text. 1 of them said that they'd bake me cookies sometime. 0 of them have actually baked me cookies in real life. If that doesn't say that I've earned my ML...then I don't know what does.
F*$k you Logic #2.
Sack Master #8: Master of My Domain-I am confident that all of you have seen each and every episode of Seinfeld. If you haven't seen each and every episode of Seinfeld than quit your job, disown your family, and move to North Korea where no one will have any idea that things like TV, and culture and not-sucking exist so you can fit in. Or just watch TBS between 6 and 7 P.M. Central Standard time. Your choice.
Either way there was this episode of Seinfeld called The Contest, where the four main characters bet on who could go the longest without doing this. Anyways, to make a long story short, either George or Jerry won (we later find out near the finale that it was Jerry). Of course I was in on the bet too...and I lost.
Because I'm a man. A man with needs and urges. A man who has only spoken to 6 girls and eaten 0 freshly baked cookies from them in his entire life. A man who is unafraid to admit who he is and what he has done. And that ladies and germs makes me a man who has truly Mastered his Domain. Nuff said.
Sack Master #9: Master of Being a Jack of All Trades-You know that old saying "Jack of All Trades, Master of None"? Well I've kind of turned that one its head here haven't I?
Look the truth is that I have Mastered being a Jack of All Trades, which logically makes me a Master of every trade in the world, which logically makes me a Master of All Trades. Sky Ball. Bocci Ball. Every kind of ball. If the trade exists, than I can do it at least as well as anyone else who has ever won the Masters. That's what I am telling you all here.
Because that's the truth. Being awesome is my thing...and everybody knows it.
F*$k you logic #3.
Text Updates and Big Ups
Now that I am a legitimate Master, I have a serious big ups/thing to get off my chest here. Really I just want to take the time to activate my unmanly feelings so I could thank each and every one of you, my hopefully 4+ readers, for helping me get here, for helping me become an almost 25-year-old man who has an advanced degree (and therefore looks down on everyone who doesn't) yet no job, no chicks, no money, and little to no future. I really do enjoy getting drunk and living it up. I really do enjoy my life. No sarcasm.
You know another thing I enjoy is writing this blog, but only because you guys read it and hopefully are a little entertained by it too. Trying to become a writer can be a lonely thing, sitting at your desk all day looking at a blank screen and fighting off subjective judgements from a lot of people in the world who don't understand that I ultimately want to do something with my life that is very hard and full of rejection and self-doubt and means that I may seem like some sort of "failure" because I cannot answer the question "what are you doing now?" honestly and fully even once I find a full-time job to help me make some money and become independent and be able to pursue my true dream on my terms. Now, I don't want this to seem like I am bitching and moaning because this is the path I want in my life. I understand and accept everything that comes with it.
I also don't want this to seem like I think I am better than anyone else, or that I have some sort of "higher calling"; to the contrary. We all face struggles in life professionally, personally and emotionally, most far greater than anything I can imagine. If the worse thing that happens to me today is some old guy walking in on me while I'm in the pooper...then I really have nothing to complain about. In the end I am no different than someone who is a real estate agent or a lawyer or a mechanic or anything else. Maybe they have a shitty or ill-suited job and want to do something else (like I may soon). Maybe they love what they do, and are happy with that. I hope that you all are.
In addition, I know that I often push the limits with this blog, that it is long and blunt and even vulgar (to my mom at least); that I may have to explain this to a potential employer one day, and that nothing I say may be enough to erase or rationalize the jokes I am attempting, and often poorly executing, here. But my goal is not to offend anyone (besides hipsters, communists and the Dutch). I just don't want to live in a world where I am censoring myself, where I am scared to write about what it is important or real or funny to me. That's why I am still here doing this after more than 3 years, still writing a blog that might get 15 or 20 real hits a day if I'm lucky. I love to write this POS because 1-it is fun and 2-it says exactly what I want it to say, and if even 1 or 2 of you out there at least like to read it for the either of those reasons--that's more than enough for me.
Sorry for the rant, and for sharing emotions for the first and only time in my life, I just wanted to thank my readers for being here and not calling me out unless I deserve it, which I almost always do.
Anyways I am sure you all tired of reading, and likely crying like you've just watched a Marley and Me marathon, so I will give ya an updated text and Twitter popularity score when I come back next week when I will be, as always, bringing you more about less that may having something to do with the world around us.
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Master Jack of All Trades"
p.s. Please enjoy the boxing tutorial below courtesy of our guy Eric Kelly (and given to us by our other guy Donnie Measles). I hope you Wall Street nerds all learn something about yourselves. Your styles are so corny...and your mouth is where all the balls meet.