While taking in the LHN spring concert, I glanced down, and what do I see? A rouge fingernail just chilling on the ground next to a hanging chad from some long lost handout. Look at that beast. That is no ordinary hangnail. That was a premeditated removal, which could only have been accomplished with a jumbo sized nail clipper. No teeth are strong enough to rip off a chunk of cartilage that large. How boring must chapel have been for that situation to occur? "Hey, I think I am going to get out my manicure kit and go to town on my extremities right in the third row." A word of advice; it might be a good idea to simply get a broom on the mat that covers the floor. You know, so when larger body parts like fingers and hands show up, they get cleaned before a sarcastic blogging graduate returns to watch the choir sing "Silly Sixties."
I just figured I would gross everyone out because it's Monday.
By Aaron Brandt, who did not see any syringes on that long neglected gym floor cover.
If the GVSU LipDub wasn't enough for you, the city of Grand Rapids just set the world record for having the largest lipdub. Or the record for having too much free time... Either way, this is still pretty cool, considering the amount of coordination required to pull something off like this.
This is just reason #583 why Grand Rapids is better than Detroit. I just don't see Martha Reeves "Dancing in the Street" in Detroit like the fine folks of the 616 did. She would have "Nowhere to Run" with all of the crime and pot holes.
Apparently some people in New Jersey are all worked up over an 18 inch deep hole in the ground that appeared out of nowhere. Dirt was scattered about 100 feet away, and the population is now on high alert. "It's just really, really weird," said planetarium director Jerry Vinski. "We dug around and couldn't find anything. We used metal detectors because all meteors have metal in them, and we couldn't find anything, large or small."
Ok people, no need to overreact. A small hole shows up, and the stinking planetarium director Jerry Vinski has to come down and assess the situation like its Roswell all over again. When I think of a "crater" I imagine some massive hole in the ground that obliterated everything in it's path. Not this little pile of mulch.
We have people that still think we didn't land on the moon, still think 9/11 was an inside job and even more people think Michael Jackson is alive. Yet no one is doubting the story of some New Jersians? I mean, this has all the markings of an inside job. No one heard anything explode or boom or even whistle. They detected nothing in the ground. Do you realize how easy it is for me to go outside right now, without a shovel, and dig an 18 inch deep hole and scatter the dirt 100 feet away? So easy that I just did it while you were reading this blog. Twice. I am certain that some kid got up in the morning and said to himself, "Hey self, I want to get on the AOL Weird News page today. I am going to make a fake crater." So he grabbed a shovel and creaed a sensation that has left New Jersey befuddled.
My apartment complex (Copper Beech in Allendale, Michigan) has had massive craters in its parking lots and roads since February, but I didn't see planetarium director Jerry Vinski anywhere. The police never investigated and I sure didn't get on AOL Weird News. No, I just blogged about it and then got a call from the Copper Beech HQ demanding I take it back. Well, they are repairing the sinkholes as I speak, so I guess that's one good act of service I can report. Anyway, it is clear to me that very little good comes out of New Jersey. Nothing but spray tans and fake crater stories. By the way (btw), here is what a real crater looks like. Take notes, people.
By Aaron Brandt, crater expert. (From the bomb craters that are all over Mt. Clemens)
Good ol Mark Zuckerberg is now coming out and saying that he wants to talk about having kids under 13 on Facebook. He went on to blab about education and technology and a few other things that rich people talk about a lot. Here's the full article. CLICK ME.
So should Facebook let kids on the site? No. Seriously, what a terrible idea. Not that little kids aren't already faking their age and getting on anyway; this has the makings of a huge mess.
Kids today are growing up far too fast. At my job at the zoo, a girl about 12 years old dropped her brand new Droid on the ground and cracked the screen. Of course, tears ensued, along with a panic attack and then an emotional call to mom, who obviously bought the phone for her daughter. I'm 21 and my phone cost about 1/4 the price of hers. When I was 12, I was worried about getting another Adam Deadmash card in a pack of hockey cards, not dropping my smartphone on the ground. (I seriously have about 15 Deadmarsh cards).
Kids are too young to have a Facebook at age 13. I logged on for the first time in 2007 (I was 17), and I still occasionally see the stupid stuff I posted and cringe (then click delete). I was young and pretty annoying back then. I can't even imagine what my 11 year old self would have said (probably something about Star Wars). One quick glance at my newsfeed reveals that many people my age can't even maturely handle a Facebook (or a grammar test). And who are all these kids that go to Lutheran North that think they can just request me? I don't know you, little freshman posing in front of your bathroom mirror in your best Hollister outfit for all 342 of your profile pictures. Denied.
Yes, eventually most of us mature. But for me, my maturation process during my pre-teen years was not permanently documented by hundreds of statuses, pictures, YouTube videos and inbox messages. I am so thankful that no one can see my old sub-profiles in AIM or the notes I passed in Miss Otto's class. But for today's kids, everything they ever say is recorded. What might seem like a great idea when you are 13, usually ends up being something embarrassing by the time you hit 20. I mean, look at my stupid 17 year old self over there, thinking he is all funny and stuff. What a moron. Wipe that grin off your face, Aaron. You don't know anything about anything.
Pre-teens shouldn't have to worry about whether Bob and Suzy are Facebook official, or if Johnny poked Kim back. They should read a book or go outside and play sports. Do I feel bad that the girl at the zoo broke her phone? Nope, because mommy will just get her a newer, nicer one so she can tell all 25 people that she knows about the zoo on Facebook. Leave Facebook to the people who's brains aren't still growing. No matter how small those brains might be on average...
By Aaron Brandt, who still regrets using the screen name "BenWallaceDude3"
Just another average day in Allendale. I woke up, got called off from work, made a breakfast of eggs and toast and began to scour the Internet for blog topics. Then at 9:56 A.M. Eastern Standard Time, both of my parents messaged me on Google Chat at the exact same time. From separate locations.
Anyway, I still have no idea where the library is in Allendale, if they even have one. I feel like a library might exceed the entertainment levels allowed by the city. There must be some ancient law written into the city's charter that makes sure the True Value is the most exciting place in this town.
By Aaron Brandt, bla bla bla witty comment that I am too lazy to think of right now.
Is this the final sign of the apocalypse before the rapture tomorrow? (No. Read Matthew 24:36). Basically Selena Gomez is shooting a music video with a couple of horses painted pink on some beach in California. And the singer P!nk gets all mad about it and starts tweeting about animal cruelty and such. Because going to Twitter is a great way to handle controversy. Then all the PETA supporters get all worked up and declare war on Selena Gomez. And by war, I mean posting 140 characters on a website.
Anyway, this pretty much sums up the state of Hollywood. Celebrities get all worked up about two horses painted with animal-safe dye, while ignoring actual problems in the world. Those horses probably have a better life than I do, yet P!nk has to call on "activists" to come out and protest. How about calling on people to volunteer at a soup kitchen or clean up a park? You know, doing something for a cause that actually matters? Shame on you P!nk. One, your name is super annoying to type, and two, you clearly showed what little sense of reality you posses. Animal cruelty? These small brained beasts will get a nice bath tonight and never even know they looked like something out of Cinderella. Meanwhile, thousands of worthwhile causes would have given anything for the kind of exposure a tweet from P!nk would generate. But then again, what can I expect from the lady who sings "Raise Your Glass." Nobody should apologize, but knowing our world, these horses will be visiting the White House next month. And they will vote "nay" on the healthcare bill.
By Aaron Brandt, who ate a chicken tonight and loved it. I might even watch Wizards of Waverly Place later. But probably not.
As an advertising major, I love Boston Bruins' campaign this playoff season. Instead of coming up with some blase, safe little phrase (See Red, The Beard is Back, Rise Up, Fire on Ice), they actually tried an edgy, humorous approach that pokes fun at its opponent. And their commercials are even better. This is what I want to do with the rest of my life. Take notes, Red Wings marketing team.
So I'm assuming this video is about to go viral at any moment. When I saw the title, I pictured some awesome otter juggling a few rocks in the air like he's Anthony Gotto or something. But no. What I found was a lazy otter rolling a tiny pebble around on his stubby arms for less than a minute. Not juggling. Not impressive.
Juggling involves more than two objects, not any of this, one stone, on his back malarkey. Any lazy animal can roll a rock around on his arms for a little bit. Trust me, I work at a zoo. It takes true intelligence and coordination to simultaneously control more than two objects at once, while throwing them in the air. This otter can't even get his one stone off of his grimy otter paws. This fella needs to go back to the drawing board and rethink his entertainment career. Lying about your skills is pretty low, even for an otter. Come on dude, we all know you can't juggle.
By Aaron Brandt, who can't juggle either. But you don't see me posting "juggling" videos online. No sir.
So somehow I got hacked or I got a virus or aliens took over my Facebook and it kept signing out on me every thirty seconds. In order to fix the problem, I had to change my password. I had a little trouble coming up with a good one, as the wizards at Facebook kept telling me my password game was "weak" or "medium." Apparently, typing about 30 random numbers isn't secure enough for Zuckerberg and friends. Like anyone could guess that. Actual screenshot below.
So here is a list of great passwords you can use the next time you get hacked because you clicked that link that said "OMG, look what Miley Cyrus did!" You are welcome.
By Aaron Brandt, who once had a log-on password of "brandtaa" in grade school. Thanks, Mrs. Golm. I could have easily had my Incredible Machines account hacked. Then were would I be in life?
BREAKING NEWS A flood warning has been issued along the banks of the Clinton River. The river is about to straight up crest at 15.2 feet. Just another reason Mt. Clemens is so different than all the rest of the sissy suburbs in Macomb. You have your little fake ponds (Stoney Creek), your little fake rivers (That ditch in the middle of Hall Road) and your little fake downtowns (Utica, lol).
Meanwhile, the residents of The Clem are dealing with a raging river teeming with radioactive catfish and probably a few Asian Carp. And you know what? Half of the city will probably be eating that stuff for dinner. Just grabbing the fish that come flopping in the front door and tossing them on the grill like its a delivery from the Schwan Man. You see, the residents of Mt. Clemens don't worry if their malls are pet friendly like the rest of pansy Macomb; they have to avoid the bullets while wading across Gratiot in order to get a burger at Your Mother's. Yes, it takes a special breed to survive in Mt. Clemens.
By Aaron Brandt, who wouldn't even dream of wishing a day in the life of the 48043 on anyone born in Allendale.
Construction has begun on the new library. Cue the cranes! Fire up the barriers! Engage the jackhammers! Reroute the traffic!
Here's to the MIP library. May your lack of books be made up for with memories, lattes and happy thoughts. I will keep the world posted on the progress of the greatest library to be constructed in Michigan history (besides the Mt. Clemens Public Library). Seriously, this actually looks really cool. There is even a Transformers-like robot that fetches the books for us. I call him Bookatron. Down with the Dewey Decimal System!
By Aaron Brandt, who sadly might never set foot in this building.
The plant I purchased last summer has passed away. It appears as if Peter never recovered from spring break, where he was not watered for over a week. He was given a proper palm burial in the dumpster outside my apartment. Peter was a great plant, always there for me, always providing me with oxygen and pleasing aesthetics. He endured ridicule by several people ("is is a rain-forest in here?"), but stood proud. Peter Palm Tree, you will be missed.
Warning, graphic photo of dead plant below. Unlike the government, I have the courage to release photos without fear of retaliation from gardeners all over the world. Now it's off to Lowe's to find a replacement. Can you grow apple trees inside? Yeah, I'm about to buy an apple tree.
By Aaron Brandt, amateur horticulturalist, professional zookeeper.
My name is Aaron Brandt. I am a survivor living in Allendale, Michigan. I am broadcasting on all social media frequencies. If you are out there; if anyone is out there...please.
So school is finally out, and most people went home for the summer. It also seems as if the people staying in Allendale for the summer are home for the week. Except me.
I am legitimately stuck in the movie I Am Legend, just waiting for the infected zombies (security) to come out at night and eat me. Yeah, that's my lonely car in the empty parking lot. I have it filled up with supplies, waiting to escape to the safe zone, where I can start over, free of infections. It has been days since I came in contact with a human, besides the lady at the bookstore who offered to buy my textbooks back for only $12. Zombie. Tumbleweeds roll around the parking lot, which is in a state of disrepair. Potholes the size of craters make driving difficult, as apparently the management at Copper Beech Apartments in Allendale, MI were infected with a DNA-altering virus that makes it impossible for them to improve their facilities. I mean, who needs a treadmill when there is a zombie apocalypse going on outside? At least Will Smith was looking buff for the end of the world. I just have a few cans of corn, ravioli and a lot of roads without sidewalks. Oh well, I guess I'll just work on a cure for this disease in my underground lab. Peace.
If there is anyone out there that is reading this, know that you are not alone. Seriously, come over and hang out with me
I am Aaron Brandt.
I am Legend.
By Aaron Brandt, who thought the movie was waaaaaay better than the book.