The State of Alaska is going to release 24,000 pages of emails sent when she was Governor of Alaska. Seeing as she was governor for only three years, people are speculating as to what could possibly take up over 24,000 pages. I had a chance to look over them and can tell you it’s not just a bunch of chain mail forwards (although they do take up about 60% of the whole thing). Here’s a few samples.

From: “Gov. Sarah Palin” <youbetcha@state.al.us>

To:  “Lt. Gov. Parnell” <bidingmytime@yahoo.com

Subject:  That darn oil.

Hey, Sean.  I was watchin’ that old show The Beverly Hilbillies and in the opening that Jed fella just shot his ol’ musket in the ground when some oil started shooting out!  Well I got the idea that we got oil hiding in that there wildlife refuge but people don’t want us drillin’ so I’m just gonna hop on down and start shooting at the ground and see if any of that “bubblin’ crude” comes out!  Wish me luck!

From: “Gov. Sarah Palin” <youbetcha@state.al.us>

To:  “Todd Palin” <hunkyfisherman69@aol.com>

Subject:  Gonna be home late.

Sorry, babe, but I saw a wolf out my window and now I gotta hop in a helicopter to hunt it down.  Once I find that li’l feller I’ll eat his heart to gain his power.  Then mama bear will bring the rest of his mangled carcass back to you and the cubs!  Keep a light on for me!

From:  “Gov. Sarah Palin” <youbetcha@state.al.us>

To:  “Walt Monegan” <pscommisioner@state.al.us>

Subject:  YOUR QUEEN DEMANDS IT.

BRING ME THE HEAD OF MIKE WOOTEN!

Seriously, though.  Most of it is just pictures of cats and fundraisers to help out with Bristol’s high school “chastity cotillion”.

Yesterday was the last day of the school year for my stepson, Jared. For him this means sleeping in, video games, and general all-around freedom. For me, the stay at home step parent, this means something else entirely.

1. Hiding all the fun things I do while he’s at school. This means no more ice cream sundae breakfasts, neighborhood-wide nerf gun fights, helicopter rides and trips to the zoo (when there are no kids at the zoo they let you feed, pet and ride all of the animals. Super fun.).

2. Make him work in the mines! It’s really just a hole I dug in the back yard but I bet if he keeps going he’ll find buried pirate gold or something. Also, it’s not technically child labor if I don’t pay him anything.

3. Pretending learning is fun. Seeing that we’re on a budget, a lot of the places we go are going to be free. Free usually means educational. Libraries, museums and Como Zoo (they don’t let you do the aforementioned cool stuff when kids are around). Everybody knows there is nothing fun about learning but I’ll just have to suck it up and pretend it’s a blast. If he doesn’t like it, back to the mines with him.

Parenting is tough.

Note, I wrote this story about a year ago and posted it in facebook. I kind of have a thing for fake detective stories.”

Chapter 1

Nine in the morning is a little early for somebody to come into my office, considering the work I do. The summer sun is beating down on the window but the blinds are pulled all the way down. I don’t need the sun right now. I’m hungover, cranky and didn’t sleep.

Also, I’m a vampire.

She walks in wearing a red gown and red lipstick. Red like the blood that’s coursing through her veins. Blood I could smell since she entered the building. That sweet, bloody blood smell that my heightened vampire senses instinctively seek out because I’m a vampire. She sat down in the chair opposite my desk, a mere five feet away from the ultimate hunter. The vampire.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make an appointment. I’ve never needed to see one of… you before.”

A vampire? I chuckled in my head. “A detective?”

“Heh. I guess a lot of people feel silly walking in here.”

That little sarcastic laugh sent a shot of breath in my direction. Toothpaste, a bagel and blood. I could take this five hundred pound desk, fling it out from between us with my vampire strength and bite into her soft, warm neck. I would, had I not vowed to never take a human life to satiate my undead vampiric thirst.

She begins to speak again, the way a hamburger would speak to somebody who has given up eating meat but still really wants to. “My husband has been murdered. The police have written it off. They say he was attacked by wild animals.”

If only she knew there was a beast in the very room she sat. A vampire beast. “Wild animals?”

“Yes. There’s no physical evidence but he was torn limb from limb. He-” She begins to choke up, a tear runs down her face. Skin covering muscle tissue and blood. She pulls out a file and hands it to me. Pictures from the crime scene.

This work looks familiar.

“I know this sounds unusual. I’ve heard you’re specialty is unusual cases.”

“Unusual cases seem to find me.” They do that when you’re a vampire.

I rush her through the details. It’s been days since I’ve drank an animal’s blood. I only drink blood from animals. “My fee is $200 a day, plus expenses. I’ll contact you in a week with whatever I find”.

“$200 a day, plus expenses. Just like Rockford.” Except Rockford wasn’t a 350 year old vampire. “One more thing-” She grabs my arm as I show her the door “Your arm. It’s so cold.”

“I have the flu.”

“Is it contagious?”

“Only if you get too close”

She grabs my arm again again, still recoiling slightly from the cold, dead skin of a vampire. “There’s something you need to know about my husband.”

I look her in the eyes. I can hear her pulse quickening, pumping liquid ambrosia through her body. Her body that’s filled with my vampire version of heroin is now right next to me. She inhales.

“My husband was a mummy.”

Let me just start by saying I’m incredibly biased. I’m quite liberal and my goal is not to bring you information objectively. I’m not a journalist. Neither is Glenn Beck.

With that out of the way, Glenn Beck is starting his own online subscription based network because Fox News is just way too tame for him. He states it will be like “nothing you’ve ever seen on the internet” unless you’ve already seen Goatse.

On his new site Beck can really cut loose and call the President a white culture hating fascist without worrying about sponsors pussying out and not giving him money because he’s an awful human being. Just him and his subscribers telling it like it is. Dubbed GBTV (which hilariously sounds similar to GLBT), it won’t only have news but “fake news” with a “libertarian host to rival John Stewart and Stephen Colbert” because conservative leaning news satire is always hilarious (see The Half Hour News Hour. Actually, don’t see it. It was awful).

Frankly, I couldn’t be happier. Having his own pay-to-play site is one step below youtube celebrity. He’s basically entering a self imposed exile and taking only his most loyal yes-men with him.

The best part is now if I start talking to someone and they say they subscribe to GBTV, I can just walk away from the conversation without having to hear another word.

The USDA recently ditched the food pyramid in favor of a new “food plate” –

Courtesy of (taken from) cnn.com

First lady Michelle Obama is spearheading this project as part of her campaign to drive the North American Fat Kid to extinction.  She said the goal was to simplify nutritional information which is great because for the last 22 years I’ve been trying to arrange all of my meals in a pyramid shape and structurally, grains make for an awful foundation.

I do think this is a good idea, though.  Portioning your meals out to have fruit and veggies on one side, protein and grains on the other is a good, easy to remember way to balance out your diet.  I think more people should adopt the food plate philosophy –

The McDonald’s Food Plate:  Grease and starch on one side, diabetes and a cheap plastic toy on the other.

T.G.I. Friday’s Food Plate:  Cherry Marga-tinis on one side and Zesty Loaded Potato Dingers on the other.

College Freshmen Food Plate:  Ramen on one side and shitty keg beer on the other.

Soylent Green Food Plate:  IT’S PEOPLE! on one side and IT’S PEOPLE! on the other.

Vegan Food Plate:  Spinach and water on one side and a smug sense of superiority on the other.

Fox News Food Plate:  Palin and Bachmann on one side and I don’t care what you say I still think Obama’s a Kenyan Muslim terrorist on the other.

Food plate!

I’m doing a show tonight at Babe’s Lounge at the Paul Bunyan Bowl tonight in Brainerd, MN. Brainerd, along with Bemiji MN, Bay City MI, Eau Claire WI (seriously?), Bangor, ME and Saint-Eustache Quebec all claim to be home to this giant lumberjack. While we all know it’s just silly for fake people to have more than one hometown, nobody seems to like my idea of a Paul Bunyan hometown deathmatch (so far none of the mayors of the aforementioned towns have emailed me back).

The question most likely burning in your mind is why? Why do so many people want to claim Paul Bunyan as their own? To find the answer to why Paul Bunyan is so interesting you just have to look at some of his folklore. Here are some of the “tall” tales (get it?) associated with him.

*He dug the Grand Canyon by dragging his ax behind him. Pretty irresponsible but everybody decided to not argue with the giant man with the giant ax. Also, nobody cared because it’s Arizona.

*Created Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes when he and his also giant blue Ox, Babe wandered around blindly in a blizzard. Thousands of people died. Nobody argued. This also explains why every lake in Minnesota is either shaped like a giant boot or giant hoof.

*He formed Mount Hood by piling up rocks to put out his campfire. Soot from the campfire blackened the skies of Oregon for 6 months. Killing crops and starving the populace. People were going to complain and then saw the 50 foot tall ax.

*Left a giant, cheap looking, plaster statue of himself wherever he went for townspeople to pay tribute. It also served as a grim reminder that he could return at any time.

So let’s hear it for Paul Bunyan, the giant bumbling sociopath who cut a path of destruction through America proving all lumberjacks are giant jackasses.

Don’t even get me started on the Brawny guy.

The Hastings Star Gazette (what a cute, old timey name!) recently reported that Mike Haege, who runs his own tree removal service in Hastings, went to North Minneapolis to volunteer his services in the tornado aftermath. As a volunteer, he didn’t charge a dime for his work but that didn’t stop city inspectors and police from forcing him to stop, escorting him out of the city, threatening jail time and fining him $275. Reading this story pissed me off so much I wrote a letter to the mayor (you can, too! http://www.ci.minneapolis.mn.us/forms/mayor-opinion/ ). I then sat down and reflected on how fucking old I am because I just wrote a letter to the mayor.

Seriously, I won’t publish the whole letter but I’ll let you know it was peppered with old people phrases like “such indignity” and “sincerely hope”. I even ended it with “Thank you for your time”.

I sat down in a rocking chair that magically appeared before me. I was hit with a sudden craving for Metamucil as I found myself poring over the city’s website, looking for city council meetings I could attend to bitch about how bumpy the sidewalks are because goddamnit, I’m a taxpayer!

I’d tell you more but these old bones are getting tired and my stories are on.

My lawn. Get off it.

Comedian and Humanitarian Chis Maddock is taping his stand up album tonight at the 7th St. Entry (clicky for City Pages A List article). While his comedy alone is reason enough to go out to his show tonight, I feel you should know something about Chris Maddock.

He saved my life in Africa.

I was in the jungles of Gabon, filming a segment for my inexplicably well funded public access wildlife show called “The Inexplicably Well Funded Public Access Wildlife Show” when I heard a rustling in the bushes behind me. I beckoned the cameraman to follow me as I wildly hacked away at the foliage with my machete. I looked into the camera and asked out loud “what animals are we going to find out here?”, sincerely not knowing what animals were native to the region, or anything about animals at all.

In addition to being well funded the show was horribly cast.

I blindly swung my machete and hit the arm of a big, hairy beast that I had no information about. I was later told it was a Silverback Gorilla.

The beast let out a mighty howl and charged at my cameraman and I. Paralyzed by fear, I watched as the Gorilla dashed the camera and cameraman against a tree, destroying any evidence to this encounter and any witnesses that might back me up. I fell to the ground, trembling. As I thought what I thought was going to be my last thought, which was “My last thought is seriously ‘Oh shit I’m gonna die'” a voice cried out “Hey!”.

The Gorilla stopped and turned to see Chris Maddock walk out of the mist (I should’ve mentioned it was pretty misty). A bottle of beer in hand, Chris chugged what was left and broke the bottle against a tree, fashioning a crude knife for himself. “He killed the cameraman!” I shouted, feeling guilty I never bothered to learn the cameraman’s name.

“His dominance has been questioned amongst the troop.” Chris pointed to a couple of female Gorillas in the distance, whispering to each other in grunts and giving disapproving looks to the Silverback. “He’ll kill us both if we don’t assert it fully. Follow my lead!”. I got up and stood next to Chris, mimicking his movements. Puffing out my chest and beating against it. Grunting loudly. Amazingly, the Gorilla backed down and shrunk away. I grabbed Chris by the shoulders and cried “It worked! For a second I thought you were going to knife fight him!”

“Real strength comes from not using violence when you know you can.”

“You saved my life! Wait, what are you even doing out here?”

“I’m on a Tribble run. I did a show in Libreville last night and I’m in Butte, MT tomorrow and Friday. I didn’t have a show tonight so I thought I’d camp out in the jungle. Save some cash rather than pay for a hotel an extra night.” We parted ways and I never saw him again.

Every now and then I’d see a story in the paper about a child saved from a fire in Aberdeen, SD or a gang war in Central Michigan that ended peacefully in a mutual ceasefire and I knew Chris was still out there, working the road.

So go see the folk hero Chris Maddock tonight at the First Ave. 7th St. Entry. You’ll be glad you did.

Memorial Day was yesterday and that meant three things in America. Honoring soldiers that have fallen in battle defending our country, furniture liquidation sales and Westboro Baptist Church loading up their vans with protest signs and being the biggest assholes in the Universe.

This year they went down to the Arlington National Cemetery to one again claim they speak on God’s behalf. They were met, as usual, with a counter protest of people showing their love and support of the troops. This counter protest, however, was a little different as CNN reported members of the KKK were part of the counter protest.

When the KKK says you’re being shameful, you’re doing something wrong.

The WBC fired back by stating the KKK has “No moral authority on anything”.

While both packs of stupid assholes certainly make good points about the other party being stupid assholes, I think there’s only one way to settle this. Family Feud! Top 100 answers on the board, why are you guys such douchebags?

5. Uncle touched me in the no-no.
4. Huffed paint. Lots of paint was huffed.
3. Mom smoked while pregnant. And drank. And participated in gut punching contests.
2. Paralyzing fear of anything different than me.
1. Generations upon generations of inbreeding.

Winning family gets a year’s supply of Turtle Wax! Both families get free membership into the Voluntary Extinction Movement!

CNN reported yesterday that Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg only eats what he kills, stating that “It’s easy to take the food we eat for granted when we can eat good things every day” and that he’s eating healthier and learning a lot about sustainable farming. While some may just see this as the next logical step of Farmville, I think it’s pretty ballsy to look a pig in the eye and give them the ultimate de-friending. This, however, is only the beginning.

Guys like Zuckerberg thrive on challenge and walking up to domesticated animals and slitting their throats is going to get boring for him real quick. Soon he will likely take to the woods Ted Nugent style with a bow, face covered in war paint. The thrill of the chase will keep him satiated for a while but there’s no real danger in shooting a deer from 50 paces. In a year’s time he’ll probably be leaping down from tree branches onto grizzly bears with a knife between his teeth.

Will that be enough for him? Let’s hope so because the only place to go after that is to hunt the deadliest game of all. Man. Once Mr. Zuckerberg tastes human flesh there’s no turning back. He will become a Wendigo, growing in size and power with every person he consumes. Never satisfied, always hungry, eating more and more people. He’ll basically become a literal human embodiment of Facebook.

Some will say that deep in the woods you’ll hear an inhuman howl in the distance late at night. That howl is the Wendigo Zuckerberg, searching endlessly for more “friends”.