
This site is permanently moving (temporarily) to garredlentz.blogspot.com in order to conserve both bandwidth and brainpower.

There are 6 things in this life that a man is intrinsically and inescapably drawn towards. 6 things (besides sex) that pull like a black hole all matter, space, and reason towards them. They are (in ascending order of potency):
6) Movies that promise they'll make you feel the same way you felt when you watched Top Gun for the first time.
(sub-list of the ways Top Gun made you feel the first time you saw it):
i) inspired to join a noble cause just so you could be the hot, chauvinistic, male-whore class clown.
ii) willing to follow Kenny Loggins into the nether-reaches of the danger zone
iii) comfortable enough with your own sexuality to play volleyball in just jeans
iv) emotionally sensitive enough to quiet your breathing at Goose's passing
v) 2 words: bad. ass.
vi) just go ahead and buzz that f-ing tower, ghost rider.
5) Excitebike, Tecmo Bowl, and up up down down left right left right b a b a select start.
4) Girls that you feel you'd be doing a favor by dating and yet mysteriously still aren't attracted to you
3) Nudity. Public mass non-sexual nudity. On a beach? Sure. In a hotel lobby? You bet. Outside your MTC dorms? Why not. For the next 10 days in Kauai? You better believe it, sucka.
2) Peeing outside. (Which I hear, despite being man's best friend, is woman's worst enemy.)
1) Growing a mustache. (Also an enemy to many a woman.) As Dickens said: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, and we had a mustache through it all." It doesn't matter what state of life you're presently in, I can guarantee that somewhere deep inside of you there's a little voice saying, "Go ahead and grow that little lip eyebrow. No one's going to get hurt. Don't listen to those detractors trying to tell you that it means you've given up. On the contrary, my brave little pervert. Mustache...means...VICTORY!"






Who would have thought? Who can honestly say that they expected this sudden and drastic change in heart? And to think that it happened right here, right in the capitol and soul of fiery Texas. After desecrating sacred Mayan ruins in Mexico, humiliating Christian-based basketball squads over international waters, and nearly getting kicked out of the entire city of San Antonio, six young men (Garred, Richard, Jon B., Jon R., Sammy, and Jentry) finally came to Jesus. Citizens of Texas...sleep well tonight. And forever.
"Flat." That's the way my brother McGarren describes this trio of sisters from New Jersey. "It's a style," I say, but he's not convinced. So I leave it up to you to decide. Combining "church choir music, traditional Irish folk, rock, country, and pop," (as described on their own website), these sisters cook up unpredictably beautiful harmonies out of traditional Christmas fare. Like most Christmas collections, "We Three Kings" is an eclectic grouping of both the reverent and the rowdy. "Star of Wonder" certainly is a wonder of yearning and serenity, while "Frosty the Snowman" does nothing to hide the fact that New Jersey is alive, well, and in your face. This CD (or better yet LP if you can find it) may take some getting used to, but once you're hooked, you're hooked. Give it two good listens before making any snap judgments.
Sexy sexy sexy. And a mite mysterious. Emiliana Torrini's second album, Fisherman's Woman, offers a pleasant leap from the pseudo-Bjorkness of her debut sampling Love in the Time of Science. While "Sunny Road" stands the best chance of catching air time with its sweetly strong melody and Emiliana's impish voice, "Today Has Been Ok" captures the soul of the entire album in what I like to call the sugary female answer to The Helio Sequence's "Blood Bleeds." The whole set, laid over acoustic guitars and light percussion, is innocently seductive, if such a thing exists. Fisherman beware: your woman is about to get a lot of play.

This is it, folks. The pinnacle of all things blog-worthy. Many of you have probably noticed that I haven't written anything for over a month. I'm sorry to those of you who desperately check this site everyday hoping for just a morsel of lifeblood. (You know who you are.) But don't think that this short sabbatical was time wasted. No. On the contrary, the last month of my life has been exclusively dedicated to creating the Single Greatest Blog Entry in the history of spacetime, including all future entries that may follow. I haven't slept for 744 hours. I have been searching for the right words to say, the right message to convey. Everything seemed trivial and unoriginal. And then, as if by some sheeply miracle, I remembered an obscure picture that I linked to in my September 26th post entitled "When things aren't going your way...." There she was, my magnum opus, tucked away in obscurity. People, I hope you have been wiser than I have been. I hope you recognized the genius and endless intrigue of this photo long before I did.
Mark your calendars...twice. Borat is coming to theaters November 3rd. Instead of Christmas donations this year, let's all go see this movie instead. Is nice!
I just got back from down under and boy are my arms tired. But not from flying. Apparently the Aussies had never seen an Asian before, so they figured the best thing to do with me would be to put me on a steam ship and have me box a kangaroo. As you can see, things got pretty gruesome. Luckily the fight was stopped in the third round due to performance enhancing drugs being found in old Kanga's nookie nookie pouch. Seems that homeruns aren't the only things you can hit while on the juice. Add unwitting Asians to the list. Anyway, I'm glad to be back. I'm tired of marsupials messing up my vacation makeup and frumping my one-piecers. (Thanks to Rich for the pics. Next time you can help a brother out instead of just sitting there and laughing you SOB.)