London, Amsterdam, Bruges, Berlin, Downtown Lincoln, oh my!

And yet still no Italy. That's really a shame.

So I have been busy the last month achieving elite status on United Airlines and spending money that I no longer have. But it's all worth while, right? When I have time to tell you the tales of travel, I will. Actually I have time right now. But I'm still not beyond the point of laziness. Sorry.

Blogging

I have to say, it can be really hard to get motivated to blog. My audience is the wonderful gentleman from Kaufmann (which is all you really need, right?), so you should feel pretty special I guess. Sorry, my mind is wandering. You know you really don't have anything to write if you can't even write about how you have nothing to write. There's a quote for you; put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Bobo's Robust Porter

Every now and then, a man comes across a beer that is not only delicious, but also able to make a profound and lasting impact on him. Such memorable brews only come once in a Blue Moon, and tonight, I had such an experience.

Let me introduce you to Bobo. Bobo is a high strung mutt promoting his robust porter in the remote wilderness of Montana, never staying in one place for more than a night. You see, Bobo is a bit of a hobo. He lives the life of a tramp; a scruffy, wild low life fueled by canned beans, cornbread, and of course, his dark porter. Let me tell you the tale of how I came across such a curious soul, and how our meeting deeply affected my attitude of beer brewing dogs.

My journey begins south of the border; a wonderful culinary experience full of margaritas, tortilla chips, and burritos. We discussed the usual, politics, weather, how humanity would be screwed if dolphins developed opposable thumbs. The meal was quite pleasant, actually. However, something happened afterwards that I did not expect. I was thrust into motion, time and space seemed to warp all around me, and when I came to be, I found myself in a place where almost anywhere in the entire world was at my fingertips, waiting for me to take a leap of faith into the unknown.

Where was I to go? Who was I to meet? Questions pounded against my head as I walked along the lengthy choices of cultural curiosities. Every selection had its own uniqueness, anticipating the moment in which I became apart of their own experience. But then there was one. One crying spirit, alone, advancing towards me from the distance. I found myself inching towards the sound, becoming more enthralled by its intrigue every second. And then, I saw him. The skinny twig legs, the rat's tail, face like a lemur and those eyes, those indescribable eyes looking upon me. Bobo.

I stared at the wretched creature for what seemed an age, until I knew I could do no more on my own without the help of Bobo, the porter promoting dog. I finally succumbed to the temptation and moments later found myself in the mountains of Montana, alone with the beast. The anticipation was deadly. I reached into the mountain stream and pulled out a freshly bottled Robust Porter, brewed by none other than Bobo himself. The bottle gave a sigh as I applied the opener, and when the beer was free from the brown glass, the true nature of the dark brown color could finally be seen in all its glory. I anxiously raised the glass to my mouth and took a sip, those eyes still staring me down atop a rock located in front of me. I immediately found the taste to be superb, just as a porter ought to be. The rich tones of the brew came to life as the concoction of water, grains, and alcohol touched my tongue. I savored the drink as long as I can, and I relayed my thoughts to Bobo. He continued to stare, and said nothing. Anticipating a reply, I was a bit disappointed that he didn't say anything. That was until I realized he would not give a reply, unless I knew where to look. I broke the gaze between us and looked at the bottle cap that I was holding in my hand. I turn it over slowly, and read in faint letters, "I ripped my pants." Quickly I look up to where Bobo was standing, only to see a gray rock with no trace of beings anywhere in sight.

For me, this experience was a drastic eye opener in the world of teleportation and robust porters. One can only enter their realm if one is ready to take the leap of faith into the unknown. I learned that sometimes the jewels of the universe are where you least expect, and that Bobo makes one hell of a brew.

How 'bout something new, Matt?

Okay, sounds good to me. You ask for it, you get it. Well, in this case, you didn't ask (hence the blog title), but you get it anyways. I suppose that's a lose-lose situation, but how else am I going to kill half an hour?

So with that wonderful introduction, let us continue onwards to something very common yet intriguing: exercise. It isn't easy. In fact, few things in life are. But it can be satisfying. Can you tell that this will be a feel-good, inspiring post? I've never attempted such a thing; it's requiring me to take a leap of faith and plunge into a realm quite unknown to me.

Do you know what a hell of a workout would be? How about riding across the continental United States? I was given the opportunity to meet such a man, none other than the host of The Amazing Race on CBS. Phil Keoghan is riding from Los Angeles to New York, not only as a personal challenge, but also to help people with MS. Excellent. Many props to Phil for doing this.

Well, it so happens, that I like to challenge my body too, although I must admit, starting a workout routine is no small feat for a typical college kid used to sitting around drinking beer. Not to say I wasn't in shape, but pushing your limits is much more difficult when you don't do it often.

Today I decided to try this in the lovely, hot weather of Nebraska. I believe it was pushing 30ºC today (sorry, no Fahrenheit here), so why not see what you can handle? For me, at this moment, apparently not much.

I set off from the university campus in a southernly direction on the bike path known as the Billy Wolf trail, which runs from campus to Holmes Park in southeast Lincoln (or is it farther now?). Passing the first mile marker was encouraging, and I continued to the pedestrian tunnel below 27th and Capitol Parkway. Every time I pass through here, I picture some sort of movie about... actually I'm not really sure what it's theme is, but something tells me it's a good one. That's my random thought for the day. I then made it to the zoo just in time to hear screaming kids on the train that goes around the perimeter. Wow this took me back. Let me tell you why.

You see, at the zoo in Lincoln, there is a train. This is the train that completely encircles the zoo, running along side the bike path for a good length. There is the railroad crossing, the sharp turns, the bridge that exists for no apparent reason, the tunnel. Yes, the tunnel. I'm not sure if they teach this in school anymore, but the tunnel is where you muster up all you've got, wait until the right moment, and let your voice produce high-pitch sounds, many times indicating fear. I am proud to say, when I was young, I adhered to this standard of living; the tunnel code is was called. And if I ever am a passenger on the train again, you surely will understand, that codes may not be broken, especially by 22 year old engineering students.

After a lap around the zoo, I decided I've reached the half way point (which, unfortunately for me, is a bit of a failure, but that's what makes you stronger in the end) and turned around. Even after a few measly miles, my chest and head are pounding, my stomach is regretting the existence of Husker Hoagie, and my mouth is dry for a taste of the good stuff: water. Wasser, eau, agua-- my favorite drink of all time. As I pass a drinking fountain, the internal struggle mounts. Do I continue? Do I stop? Sadly, my outcome was the latter, but which leaves only more room for improvement.

So what did we learn today? I believe we found that I can write a blog post that has some significance in real life, free from the dry humor that usually accompanies it. Then again, maybe it's just dehydration makes you less funny.

Back to the good 'ol days

Hello all.

It has been some time since I've written a blog, several years in fact. My blogging experience started as a senior in high school, finding excuses to write about my various philosophies on my life, which amount to, well, nothing. Expect this to continue, for I can safely say, I have no real topic to discuss. To demonstrate this, I have dug up one of my old blog posts from the sixth of March 2005, entitled, "This is the answer." Please bare in mind this was four years ago.

"Duct tape. Ordinary duct tape. I have a theory that any problem in the world can be solved with duct tape. Think about it. There is no possible way this isn't true. Give me your problem and I will give you your solution: duct tape. For example, I have a problem. When an individual driving home from wherever his traversion (that's a made up word, but I like it) originated, he or she will undoubtedly come across other people traveling on the roads. Now when it comes to rush hour, this traffic increases dramatically. This is a problem. Being stuck in this mad stampede of automobiles, I couldn't help but think there's got to be a better way. My friends, let me tell you there is.

"Before I dive into my highly technical and intricate plans, let me show you the steps of presenting yourself with an issue at hand, and resolving that issue, following these steps in order:

1. First you must analyze the given problem and decide when the results need to happen. If your dilemma can be contemplated and thought through, proceed to step two. If it needs a solution in a very short amount of time, skip to step three. IF YOU SIMPLY DO NOT CARE, skip to step four.

2. Step two is the point at which you give it your first few tries. At this point you've had enough time to examine the situation and make your initial judgment. Present yourself with the answer and complete the first test, and see if it works. If it does, congratulations. I commend you. If all of your initial plans fail, your skills are lacking and you must continue to the next step.

3. Irrational actions is step number three. This is where you have no time to think anything through, or you are so frustrated that you don't give a damn anymore. At this level, you perform any actions you possibly can, even if there's no possible way any of them could ever solve your problem. If this is the case, advance to step four.

4. Duct tape. Let me show you how this works. As I was saying I had the problem of many people being in my way when I desperately need to arrive at home to catch the beginning of Antiques Roadshow. So I think it through. Before I leave to go home, I know in advance that traffic will be bad. Therefore, I come to the most logical solution first. It takes way too much time for cars to go through green lights. If I'm sitting at the back of a massively large line of cars, it will take up to thirty seconds after the light turns green before I can even think about starting to move. This is simply unacceptable. So I propose my answer: the second the light turns green, every car in the entire line will hit the gas. Then we will all proceed through the light without having to wait for the car in front of us. Brilliant! Needless to say, this didn't work. People didn't want to listen to me as I was yelling to everyone outside my car. I tried to explain to them to start moving as the light turned green, but all that happened were two fender benders and one really upset police officer. Seeing as how my plan failed, I looked to step three, where I basically pissed off every driver on the road. In my haste I screwed over ever car I passed by cutting them off and running through the seven red lights. But what was I to do? Step two had been compromised. I was left to drive like a mad man. Unfortunately, I missed the start of Antiques Roadshow. I was extremely depressed. But not so depressed that I couldn't carry on to the final rung on the ladder: step four. How can this be you say? You plan to dissolve your traffic problem with duct tape? Yes. Yes, I do. The duct tape solution is simple: I inconspicuously go around town and whip out my perpetual roll of duct tape, and simply duct tape every door of every car shut. So they can't open it! Ingenious idea, I must say. If this succeeds, no one will be able to get into their car for several hours, enough time for me to cruise the streets unscathed and untouched! Thus allowing me to watch my much needed fix of... well.... you know.

"So there you have it, my philosophy on solving day to day predicaments. I hope you find my guide useful."

As we can see, I have not accomplished anything by writing this and have merely wasted your time. So please, navigate away from this page and do something constructive. I beg you. Until tomorrow that is.....