Dear Readers,
As all of you surely know the holiday season is upon us.  The time for stuffing, mistletoe, egg nog, giant Christmas trees, alcoholics who cannot bask in their loneliness and use booze as a true coping mechanism like a real man (The Sack) and thus suffer a devastating downward spiral into sucicidal depression, and pumpkin pie is finally here.  So throw on your favorite religiously conservative Christmas sweater, try not to burn the shack you are living in down as you deep fry your holiday turkey, and celebrate back to back Holidays created by aliens and Christ.  It just doesn't get any better than this.

But, as admittedly great as the Holiday season is, why does it get to hog all the glory?  There's an entire year full of celebrations and festivals that get by passed as we patiently wait for the commemoration of Aliens visit to Cape Cod and the exact day on which Jesus Christ was born.  And no, I am not talking about the semi-celebrated days for drinking amateurs (Halloween, New Year's Eve), drinking semi-professionals (Mardi Gras, St. Patrick's Day, Super Bowl Sunday, Yom Kippur), soldiers/workers/people who sign pieces of paper (Memorial Day, Labor Day, 4th of July), minorities (Martin Luther King Day) or people who sail to the new world and enslaved minorities (Columbus Day). 

No, I am talking about the days that are bypassed entirely in our society, as we trudge off to work or school or move from sleeping in our bed to napping on our couches without commemorating the special occasion in any way, shape or form.  We are out there working hard for the man, when really we should be getting drunk, doing drugs, ordering hookers, eating at a Chinese buffet or whatever else it is that you might do to celebrate momentous occasions.  So I say f work, occupy wall Street, and demand 12 to 15 more days of paid vacation.  After all at this's really the least those jerk business men could do.

Holiday Fever
So, now that we've all decided to stand up for our rights to celebrate the best holidays the world can offer us, let's take a look through the calender and highlight some particular favorites.  And remember no matter how unconventional these days may sound, they are meant for us to celebrate.  They are a true FESTIVUS FOR THE REST OF US.

National Child Labor and Popcorn Day (Jan 31st)-You know those stupid commercials where auto-mechanics and baby sitters get paid in gum to ensure that they will never be able to provide for their families or afford to pay off their student loans?  Well now imagine that the workers in those commercials are children, and that they are getting paid in popcorn. Yeah, I think that's how our society should operate too.  But the stupid political fat cats in Washington and Malaysia don't care about protecting children's rights.  And that's the sad thing in all of this.  The kids without popcorn and hard-labor employment are the real victims here.

Public Sleeping Day (Feb 29th)-Now it's only acceptable for people to randomly sleep in public once in every four years? What and people with narcolepsy  don't suffer enough already?  Where did human compassion go?  Sometimes I don't know.  I just don't know.

Jewel Day (March 13th)-Man it's easy to forget, but the singer Jewel really did have a lot of hits.  And now every March 13th...we can remember. 

Blame Somebody Else Day (April 13th)-This is also known as every other day of my life.  Man, good thing I didn't write this shitty blog post and that the Russians forced us to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima.  Looks like the Sack and America really are always right.  Hot damn.

Leprechaun Day (May 13th)-I thought that this was St. Patrick's Day, but I guess I stand corrected.  Besides any excuse to buy more Lucky Charms is fine by me.  However, I still wonder if crack heads get to celebrate this too?  After all, they are often confused for Leprechauns.

Smile Power Day (June 15th)-On Smile Power day, there is no money or modern medicine.  We are all Christian Scientists, and tips are not accepted.  Hope you don't have a devastating heart attack...or are a waiter/stripper.

Half Christmas (July 5th)-Yes technically June 25th is half Christmas, but not if you watch the TV show Workaholics.  Can reindeer survive in the heat?  Who knows...but Christmas sweaters and getting wasted certainly can.

National Spumont Day (Aug 21st)-I have no idea what "Spumont" is, so I am going to assume that it's, juice.  And if cranking it out all day isn't a good enough reason to "get off" (get it? "get off." Haha puns are as vital to the blog industry as they are to the porn industry or the child hair care industry) of work...then I don't know what the f is.

National Cream Filled Donut Day (Sept 14th)-See my last entry...add a donut.  Yes, we did in fact just combined fried pastries with the other great passion of my life.  Jackpot!!

Ask a Stupid Question Day (Sept 28th)-Shouldn't this just be called Women Day?  Oh wait...that's already national bad driver's day.  Haha, I kid because I love.  Or something like that.  I'm not Daniel Tosh so...

White Cane Day (Oct 15)-I have no idea what this means...but I do know that it's racist.

Make Your Own Head Day (Nov 28th)-Is this possible?  Didn't God already do this for us?  God, I just realized that...this post is so f'in stupid.

Wear Brown Shoes Day (Dec 4th)-Well this holiday is reverse racist so...looks like this post is all even on the whole race thing after all.  Thank God for that.

And there you have it boys and girls.  13 days that celebrate every race, color, gender, religion, creed and species of Irish midget.  You can all thank me later.  At least you should...especially if you end up doing the dirty with a donut.

Text Updates and Big Ups
My current text messaging score since November 11th is +203 (169-inbox, 139-sent, 4 from females), which will only continue to drop due to the quality/offensiveness of this last post.  Also my twitter score is at an all-time high of 206 followers but...I wouldn't expect that to continue for the exact same reasons.

I don't really have a whole lot of big ups to extend in this post.  I gotta thank my boy JJ Leonard for his continue love and support (which will surely fade) and...well that's about it.  Thanks dude.

See ya after my Turkey Day break with some post that hopefully will redeem me from my current status as a social pariah. But probably not.  Now enjoy more of my bfff Nick Swardson's Pretend Time.

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

Dear Readers,
As I'm sure all of you know the Sack has hit another milestone in his quest to be well-liked by the Internet community while contributing absolutely zero value to it in any way, shape or form.  In a tale as old as time I have overcome ever single obstacle the computer world has thrown in my way, including Google and Urban Dictionary describing me as "a scam artist, idiot, moron asshole or useless person who does nothing but collect unemployment or disability benefits,"  (although to be fair...this description is pretty accurate) to once again reach a new peak of popularity the likes of which the Sack has never seen before.  That's right ladies and gentleman...I now have 200+ Twitter followers.

Now you all may be asking, how did the Sack reach such a prestigeous milestone?  Well how did Barrack Obama become president?  How did Jay-Z get Beyonce to marry him?  How did Urkel from Family Matters provide Emmy nominated performances year after year?  How did Will Smith overcome his parent's lack of comprehension to make the defining song (Miami) and film (Wild Wild West) of two separate geographic regions?

Well as it turns out, me and these great men all have a lot in common because those men, like myself, are neat guys...and people like us.  Also we all get what it's like on the screets.  We handy with the steel if you know what I mean, earn our keep.  We're not business men, we're a  Basically what I am trying to say is we've all risen above our obstacles.  We've all overcome our suffering to rise to the tops of our professions.

Barrack Obama the politican.  Jay-Z the rapper.  Urkel the hilarious dork.  Will Smith the rapper turned actor.  And Sack...the man with 200 twitter followers.  God it feels damn good to be mentioned in that sentence...even if I am the one writing it.

Get Like Me...On Twitter
Well, now that we have established that I am more of a social media expert than Shaquille O'Neal, Ashton Kucher, and First World Problems combined, let me tell you how you can raise your twitter game, get chicks to like you, and become as respected in the real world as the black people I listed above.  Because after all, that's what social media is for...right?

1) Offend People-This may be the easiest step to take towards improving your social media presence on the Internet machine.  And it may be the simpliest too.  Look on Twitter, as in real life, no one is going to respect you or think you are funny if you are saying things like "Happy birthday to Samantha...she's my bestie :)))!!!" or "My parents are good people who taught me everything that I know!!"  On Twitter, once again as in real life, nice guys finish last, and don't get high-paying Wall Street Jobs or smoking hot girlfriends (or boyfriends) with fake boobs (or calves? I'm sorry...I can't think of a male equivalent.  This is going to cause me to be called sexist for the second time in my life).

Now the key is to say offensive things, without using offensive words or being racist (are you listening D-boy?).  In fact by "offend people" I really mean offending people who are looking for a reason to be offended.  You know, the people who think that Anne Frank jokes cross the line or that Tyler Perry's shows only made it onto TBS because of their high-quality production value.  These people are just looking for something that they can claim is offensive.  They live for it.  So give it to them. 

2) Don't Hold Back...or Think-This directly ties in with #1.  Look if you type something into your Twitter, then it must be something that you want to say.  Don't reread your tweets and think about how people might interpret them the wrong way.  Just hit send.  And don't worry, in the long run people won't care.  No one I've ever known of has lost their job or ruined their reputation by using Twitter.  Trust me on this.

3) Shameless Self Promotion-Let's be honest the 15 of you who are viewing this post (and the 4 of you who are actually reading it) aren't doing it because this is quality writing or because of the Sack's sterling reputation for insightful commentary on the human condition.  You are doing it because, out of the hundreds, or even thousands, of people who view the many, many updates I post on Twitter and Facebook you are the only ones who are dumb enough to click on the link.  I didn't get to where I am today by having dignity or caring how other people feel.  I got here because I am my own (and only) biggest fan. That much is clear at this point.

4) Flattering Pics-If that link I posted on Congressman Weiner taught me one thing, it's that if you are going to post naked pictures of yourself, then you better be, uh...well equipped.  If you aren't hung like Ron Jeremy...then no one is gonna want to see what you're packing.  I mean...isn't that why softcore porn exists in the first place? To hide unimpressive pieces of male gentalia?

5) Be Hilarious-This is a good way, perhaps the only way, to get ahead in any aspect of life.  I mean think about it.  If Twitter was around in 2003 then Dane Cook would have millions of followers rolling around laughing about his commentary on the Kool-Aid man.  Instead it's 2011, and Dane Cook has already made this movie.  The Twitter damage has already been done.  (By the way, why is Jim from American Pie in this movie?  What Finch or Tara Reid weren't available?  By the way #2 the three things I will always hope for as long as I live are 1-Dane Cook will return to being funny, 2-Dane Cook's character in Mr. Brooks will come back from the dead for the sequel, Mr. Brooks 2: Dane Cook's Zombie Is Looking for Payback and 3-Tara Reid will be hot again.  That's all I really want to see before I die.)

6) Lie-Look it's Twitter, so no one has to know if what you are saying is the truth.  You can't live up to #4?  Fake it.  You aren't funny enough to pull off #5?  Carry around a notepad and write down the hysterical stuff that other people say.  You are a cast member of The Bing Bang Theory?  Well then...I can't help you there.  Cause you don't, and can't, do any of these things.

7) Set Low Expectations-I've found that if you have a goal that you might not reach it.  But, if you don't have a goal, then you are never disappointed.  And I gotta tell feels phenomenal.  Alright yeah...this line isn't original.  But then again, nothing I write is so yeah...I'm not that talented.

8) Drink Alcohol-I know that this seems to be a staple of any advice I've ever given...and there is a good reason for that.  Because it makes everything better.  Tweeting drunk, without any inhibitions, is the easiest way I know of to 1-Offend people, 2-Not think, 3-Shamelessly promote yourself, 4-Tweet dong pics, 5-Be Hilarious, 6-Lie and 7-Set low expectations for yourself.  Now chug some Jack Daniels, get your smart phone out...and make the magic happen.

Text Updates and Big Ups
My current text messaging score since only November 9th is +99 (76-inbox, 66-sent, 3 from females) which isn't too bad considering that it's only from the past 2 days, but is too bad when considering that most of them are about the tragedy at Penn State.  Not even I can make a joke of that yet. 

Also I have to extend a very special big ups to all my twitter followers, and to myself for being funny and clever enough to make the dream happen.  200 twitter followers...what a special day. 

Be back next week with some more discussion, insight, and offensive remarks.  Now everyone watch this documentary I found on Lady Gaga's brother.

In Hoc,
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"
Dear Readers,
As you all certainly know, mainly because I've written about this already, the Sack thinks the suburbs f'in suck worse than female drivers, Broadway musicals (being literal here) and/or any M. Night Shyamalan movie that doesn't feature dead people, aliens...or celebrity beer make Sam Jackson.  And as any of you who clicked on that link can figure out, my logic (as always) is air tight.  There's no question that the burbs, with their quality schools and clean air and swept under the rug racism and semi-funny ABC sitcoms, are ruining the fabric of this very nation.  Y'all may be saying Occupy Wall Street, but I say Occupy The Gated Communities that try to keep homeless alcoholics with neck beards, like myself, out (or Occupy Herbstreit for all you college football fans out there.  Whichever one is funnier to you).

However maybe because I have a heart, or maybe because I acknowledge that I am often drunk and therefore cannot make many rational decisions, for the first time in my life I found myself second guessing well...myself.  Maybe I had been too harsh before.  Maybe the suburbs were compromised of good people who loved America and just wanted to be closer to the low prices/incredible labor practices found at their local Wal-Marts.  Maybe making millions of dollars and not voting for Barrack Obama didn't make the people living outside of urban areas racists.  After all Obama is only half black, so suburbanites were also half voting against a white guy when you really think about.

So it was with these thoughts in mind that I decided, against my better judgement, to give the suburbs a second chance.  And what did I find?  Were my biased judgements replaced with a fair look at upper-middle class environments?  Were my inclinations to give rich people who don't live in American industrial centers another opportunity to prove themselves rewarded?  Did I discover a new found respect for suburban parents who worked hard to provide for their families and give them the best possible chance at future success?  Do I now want to buy a Volvo Crossover?  And I am going to keep asking ridiculous/semi-offensive questions because I have no idea what to write about once I finish this paragraph?  Am I?  Well...let's find out.

Sack v. The Burbs...Round Deux
As I wrote earlier I returned to the scene of my previous crime, the Chicago Suburbs, to reevaluate my once strongly held beliefs and to celebrate my boy AE's 21st birthday with some close friends and his ginger brother who tweets more racist comments than Robert E. Lee.  This is what went down.

Saturday, October 22
5:11 P.M.-I've just finished my co-ed, slow-pitch softball game (aka my co-ed, slow-pitch softball domination) by going 1 for 2 with a run scored, getting 2 put outs at 1st base and crushing the soul of some chubby, 42 year-old by trucking him at the plate and emscaculating him in front of his wife and kids who now want me to become their adoptive father.  My team may have ended the season with an 0-8 record, and a -234,052 run differencial, by head I only struck out once in 7 at bats of slow-pitch softball so...the season wasn't too bad on my end if you ask me.

5:55 P.M.-I stop by McDonald's and grab a double royal with cheese, which completes my war chest of items necessary to make the 3.5 hour/12.3 mile trek from Chicago to Oak Park Terrace, Illinois.  That's right I now have a 0.5 pound hamburger, $60 cash, 1/3rd a handle of Fleischman's whiskey, a tin of fresh chaw, one I-Pod player covered in what appears to be spilled seafood gumbo and a button-down shirt so people will think that I'm a white person with money.  Everything you need to be a true Suburbanite for about 15.3 hours.

6:33 P.M.-I've battle through the usual, and self-explanatory, Saturday rush our out of Chicago and into the suburbs to pick up Seal (wait...what?).  His gigantic forehead is so heavy that it forces him to walk to my car while dragging his dome on the street.  That's just gonna lead to serious back problems down the road.  And a f'ed up looking face.

6:50 P.M.-Seal and I are listening to the GPS on my phone, which apparently is telling me to drive to Gary, Indiana and become a crack addicted male prostitute.  Looks like I am the idiot for not getting an Iphone 4S and letting a robot call, text, find porn and masturbate for me.  Actually I'm glad I didn't, because we all know how this ends.  Computers...what if one day they are in charge?

7:24 P.M.-Seal and I pull over next to some sort of Korean mall.  Minorities shopping at Banana Republic?  No way we are in the suburbs...or at a legitimate Banana Republic for that matter.

7:27 P.M.-Seal calls D-boy to see just where in the hell we are.  D-boy tells us the fastest way to cover our 10 mile difference is to drive to Ottawa and catch a Canadian airlines flight into O'Hare.  I question this.  Everyone knows that gingers, like women, have a terrible sense of direction.

7:39 P.M.-We finally get off at the correct exit, and turn onto the right road.  We are now 0.9 miles away.

7:43 P.M.-We get to the hotel and I hop out to to ask where the nearest liquor/grocery store/dude on the corner who will sells us booze is.  The lady at the front desk tells me to continue down the road we were just driving on for about half a mile and we'll see one.

8:02 P.M.-We've been driving down this road for close to 15 minutes.  I've seen 9 Burger Kings, 6 Ruby Tuesdays, 4 Applebees, 4 Buffalo Wild Wings, 3 TGI Fridays, 2 Chilli's, a Holiday Inn, a PF Changs, another Holiday Inn, a Holiday Inn Express and 17 pizzera Unos...but no grocery stores.  Just as I expected, people in the suburbans cannot buy their own food.  Instead they eat breakfast, lunch and dinner at different chain restaurants every day...and apparently often sleep in a hotel that is somehow connect to the Holiday Inn family.

8:03 P.M.-I begin praying that we can find a liquor store and get back to the hotel so I can legally begin drinking without operating a motor vehicle.  Hey if it can help Tim Tebow become on the NFL most efficient passing quarterbacks, then it must work after all...or something like that. (see youtube video below)

8:05 P.M.-We find a Binnys.  I don't have any money.  I make the next most logical decision.  I put on a doo-rag, walk into the store, and am given alcohol by nervous suburbanites who assume I am committing an armed robbery. 

8:21 P.M.-We are back at the Holiday Inn (which one?  I have no idea).  Turns out it took me 2 hours and 26 minutes to make a 21 miles drive.  I farted 24 times and got 3 and 1/2 boners during the trip (come on man...bumps in the road can be exciting)...for your information.

8:24 P.M.-I enter the hotel room and immediately begin chugging Early Times whiskey. Hey we're in the I had to spring for the expensive stuff.

9:23 P.M.-Albert Pujols is better at baseball than Jesus and Ty Cobb's racially sensitive love child (got Christ's tolerance...and Cobb's hand eye coordination).  His animated version is also better at backyard yard baseball than that flamethrowing pitcher kid who rides around in a wheelchair.

10:45 P.M.-Michigan State beats Wisconsin with a crazy hail mary.  Brent Musberger has a stroke in the broadcast booth (and also probably both creams and poops his pants).  He somehow recovers enough to appear in the ABC sitcom Happy Endings 11 days later.  Do you believe in miracles?!?! No! That's wasn't Musberger's call.

11:23 P.M.-I am in a hotel room with about 18 other white people (and no minorities).  Man my friends greatly resemble the cast of the actual TV show Friends. Is it just me or is it starting to feel like the suburbs are just a giant hockey rink right now?

Sunday, October 23
12:01 A.M.-It's now officially AE's 21st birthday, so he can have the first sip of alcohol that he has ever enjoyed in his life.  What was he doing up in the hotel room for the past 8 hours?  Well let's just say he paid a woman over $4,000 and if Patrick Bateman were up there...there may or may not be some dead bodies chilling up in room 213 at this point.

12:03 A.M.-We walk into the Bar Louie attached to the Holiday Inn. Spoiler Alert...the Bar Louie attached to the Holiday Inn in Oak Park Terrace, Illinois is bump on a Saturday night!!!  Oh wait...that's not true!!!

12:04 A.M.-3 dudes I don't know hand me 3 different shots.  Can anyone say roofalin...there you go with that word again roofalin.  Might as well call it rapies, and for the first time in my life...I am the victim.  (actually I never had, and never word use roofies.  Or mentos...the fresh maker.)

12:11 A.M.-I am standing next to AE's and D-boy's dad, but I am afraid to talk to him.  Look everyone knows I am intimidated by mustaches...and AE/d-boy's dad is rockin a powerful one.  I mean why do you think I am scared to watch 1970's porn...or Tom Selleck shirtless?

12:45 A.M.-Wait Tim Tebow isn't the only AFC West quarterback who believes in God and is capable of beating the Miami Dolphins?  Who woulda thunk it?

1 A.M.-We leave the hotel Bar Louie and head to the Tilted Kilt...aka Hooters for Irish immigrants.  I order a chicken breast...hold the chicken.  Hey-yo!!! Oh, and I got some potatoes too.  The place is Irish after all.

1:02 A.M.-I see a black guy.  In the suburbs.  At an Irish Hooters.  This is like seeing a giant lizard on the loose killing the good people of Tokyo.  I hate Gozilla too!!

1:43 A.M.-The Tilted Kilt is closing, and there is only one option for late night fun in the burbs.  That's right I Reggie Miller and Spike Lee are going to a strip club. Wait...I didn't know Cheryl Miller's little brother played basketball?

1:44 A.M.-The bartender calls us a couple cabs.  Says it'll be about 10 or 15 minutes.

2:32 A.M.-I am standing in the parking lot of the Tilted Kilt.  Not a single cab has come.  Does the word minutes mean different things to people who work at an Irish Hooters?

2:41 A.M.-We bail on the cabs and are driven the 3.4 steps to the Holiday Inn's connected McDonald's drive through (hey...where do you think there room service comes from) by a volunteer firefighter. 

2:43 A.M.-That same volunteer firefighter drives home.  Does it matter that he is more f'ed up than Hunter S. Thompson at Mardi Gras? Of course not...cause volunteer firefighters are above the law.  Although they interestingly don't get any monetary compensation of any kind.

3:16 A.M.-We have downed our McRibs (it's back!!!) and are back in the hotel room.  Do we go to sleep?  Of course not.  We obviously decide to jump on the hotel mattresses and have a homo erotic 6 dude pile up in our skives instead.  Hey it's not gay cause it's in the suburbs...and I was involved in it.

3:49 A.M.-The dog piling is over and I close my eyes for the final time.  AE is 21.  I may or may not have a night time boner, and need to order a "hotel" movie so I can go to sleep.  The suburbs are still racist, although they tend to be more tolerant of hats.  And, once again, I get to dream the dreams of men.

Text Updates and Big Ups
My text messaging score since October 21 is a robust +1,084 (713-inbox, 483-sent, 141 from females).  This is probably the most impressive thing I have ever accomplished in my life...even when considering that it's been about 16 days since my last post.  Anyone who challenges this claim can suck.  I have also reached one of the most important milestones on my life via twitter...but I'll have more on that later.

As for big ups I guess I gotta offer them to AE, Ace, D-boy, Seal, Joe, the volunteer firefighter and everyone else who made my second trip out to the suburbs so forgettable and not that important in the overall scheme of things.  I also gotta thank Michael Kovach for introducing me the youtube video below, and the St. Louis Cardinals for proving to me that there is a God...even if Tim Tebow and Phillip Rivers really already proved that to me before.

Back hopefully later this week with some look at some aspect of something in my life that almost no one else will care about.

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