Possible Secret Cod3s

What if everything that we have read, are reading, or ever will read is a code? What if it is all some triple secret code device set up by an underground government cabal with the intentions of secretly running not only the country but the entire world? And what if they are a successful cabal? What then? What could we do about it? How would we even know where to start? Who do we sequester first? Who do we subpoena? I have so many questions, but I don't know who to ask them to. Perhaps even this message is a code. What if as i am writing this post, someone out there is watching and has become aware that I am aware of what they did not want anyone to become aware of? What if he's sending a signal to my computer right now to blow me up? What if he's not far away? What if he's right behind me? What if he has his fiber wire out right now ready to strangle me until I soil myself and die? What if .
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?

The Office vs. Entourage

I don't have time for tv anymore. I always dreamed of this day when I would truly be too busy for trivial things like endless tv watching. The only two shows I have time for are The Office and Entourage. If these were the only two shows on tv, I'd be happy and I think the rest of the world would be good too. If only the rest of the world would give up the rest of tv, we'd all be better off. There isn't any form of entertainment we need that Michael Scott, Dwight, Jim, Pam, Vinny Chase, E, Drama, Turtle, and Ari can't provide. They're all I need. Why can't they be all you need?

I also like Gilmore Girls, but I forgot to mention it because it's off the air now.
Scrubs is good too.
How it's Made doesn't suck.
Simpsons are fantastic.
Hmm.. maybe I do still watch tv.
Whatever.

papers and pictures

I thought that because I am now paying for school myself, that I would be able to convince myself to avoid procrastination in regards to school-work, but it seems that I was wrong. It is currently Friday, and I have done next to no work on my leadership profile paper that is due on Sunday. I have, however put up some nice pictures in my office. Maybe I can turn that in. I wish I could turn in my own sense of self-accomplishment. Do you think Kinko's would print that?

Graduate Schooling

(to be sung to the tune of "three blind mice")
I love school
I love school
Though everyone may call me a fool
I really love school!

I do. It's really fun. When I was in simple, little college, if I had a thirteen page paper to turn it, I'd be pissed and adgitated, but in good ole grad school I'm as happy as a horse after a race. Granted, I did still have to cram all my work into two writing sessions much like simple, little college, but in good ole grad school fashion, I put out a pretty good paper that I'm almost proud of.

Now on to horrible, ugly, annoying, stupid, frustrating, boring, mind-numbing, kick-you-in-the-crotch, twist-your-nipples-off, rip-your-nose-hair-out, ropes training. I should have got a doctor's note.

All is Well

As you can see by my previous post, the mac I use at work is quite special to me. However, there is no more need to fear, for it is back to life and running as smooth as ever. Only God and Steve Jobs know what happened. Yesterday morning it was as dead as an ant colony in winter, and so I took it to the apple store in Dallas to have it's death confirmed by an apple genius. Perhaps this particular apple genius had recently received the Holy Spirit or had touched the cloak of Steve Jobs because once he turned it on, there was seemingly nothing wrong with it. No, not seemingly, there really wasn't anything wrong. He fiddled around with it; I think in order to make me feel like he was checking everything, but I believe that it was a simple touch from a simple man named Oliver. Thank you, Oliver. Thank you.

Ode to a Mac

My lovely and wonderful Macintosh Pro,
Where, oh where, oh where did you go?

Your body is here, but your spirit is gone.
You're lights have gone out like the setting of the sun.

What great times we had, you and I.
Every half hour you'd announce the time.

I'd sit and stare at your face, so bright
We never argued, nor did we fight.

When I was with you, my soul felt complete.
Now that you're gone, life isn't so sweet.

Where did you go? What happened to you?
Did you ever love me the way I loved you?

Was it ever real between you and me?
That's it, isn't it? You never loved me.
You played me, you tricked me,
You got what you wanted and left me.
And now you're free, free to be without me.
Why couldn't you tell me?

Why couldn't I see?
See between your keys.

Wake up, old friend, wake up Mac Pro.
There is so much to say, please don't go.

I'll never forget all the good times.
We worked together side by side.
But now you've gone out, like the rolling tides.

I don't wanna talk about it

A lot of people, when they haven't blogged or journaled in a long time, tend to start their "return to blogging" blog with a long, overdrawn rant about how busy they have been, how sorry they are about their neglect of the blogosphere, how they had their identity stolen and they only just recently got back from a swedish prison where they tracked down the perpetrator. But I --I will not do that. I refuse. I'm back. Let's move on.org.

I have recently come into the knowledge that I am an overly blessed individual. I deserve almost nothing, but God gives me more than I need and almost everything I could ever want. The other day Rachel and I were in my back yard playing with the dogs, and I just couldn't keep my eyes off of the cutest, most amazing girl in the world. Rachel is so great, and I don't deserve even a fraction of her. It was also at this moment that I realized that I live in a great house, have great friends, a great job, more money than I need, more food, more clothes, and more entertainment than I have time to enjoy. I think this is one of those times in my life that I would like to call a mountain top. I believe that life is a series of journeys through valleys, plateaus, and mountaintops, and this is definitely a mountain top.

Coffee and Bandanas

I have decided that without these two items, my life would be drastically different --especially if there wasn't Creme Brulee coffee from Cafe Brazil.... hmmmmmmmmmmm................ Okay, so I like coffee. That fact has been well established. Since I've been here in the lovely Cave Springs of Oklamoha (i like that spelling better), I've realized that there is coffee, starbucks coffee (i had three, count 'em, three cappucinos the last time I was there), and then there is a new realm of coffee known as Black Love Juice. I can see that there are many flaws to naming this particular realm of coffee with such an obviously easy to turn phrase, but I'm gonna blow right past that problem (that's what she said). Black Love Juice makes my toes smile. It's got quite an amazing power over me. When I don't drink it, my day seems empty and pointless. I find myself asking "Why am I alive? Shouldn't I find a hollow tree and sleep in it until Winnie (the pooh) gets back with some honey." Also, I like honey.

Bandanas are what keep me from needing to put chemicals in my hair. Bandanas are what allow me to gain that extra ten minutes of sleep that I crave. Bandanas are dynamite.

I Left My Heart in Sage Francis co.

I've made some changes. I don't eat unhealthy food anymore. Or at least I'm on the pathway to that decision. I'm breaking up with chips, fried foods, sodas, and other assorted detrimentalities. I am beginning to feel that longing and sadness one feels after they break up with someone. Remember what that was like --the ole break up day? I don't know about ya'll, but for me it was an all day event. I will use Angelina Carasco as a perfect example of a textbook Nick-style break up. Allow me to create a short backstory here. Angelina was on my baseball team in 7th grade. We had a trip to the Netherlands for a tournament, and we sat next to each other the whole way up. I had a special skill in those days. If I could get an hour alone with a girl, she was mine. And there weren't a lot of things that could stop me. So after I made my inch-my-hand-over-to-her-hand-until-I-make-contact move, we started holding hands, snuggling, and saying sweet things to each other. Success!! So after we came back from the tourney, we stayed together for a while. We would hold hands walking to lunch, going to class, walking to the bus. We'd call each other once a week or so. Baseball practice was a tough one, but we got throught it. Or I guess we didn't, did we? Oh, also Angelina was cross-eyed and super cute. Didn't think those two could go together? Well don't you feel like a prejudiced, shallow jerk? She was also asian. Nice...
Anyways, when I finally decided that there were literally dozens of other girls I wanted to be seen holding hands with on the way to lunch, like Jamie Anderson (another post for another time), I woke up that morning with a purpose. I wrote the break up note in first period. I checked it in second period. I had Angelina in my third period class, but this was not the time or the place. I had a plan. Never break up with someone in English class or they'll write a poem about you and read it in front of the whole class (another post for another time). I tried to be as distant and aloof as possible so that she would start to get the hint. Then at lunch, I hid in the bathroom so that she wouldn't see me, and no one knew where I was. After lunch, it was smooth sailing. I had gym, and two more classes with neither her nor her friends. I started the note folding process in my last class, and sealed it with the famous FYEO1. Once I handed the note to her friend Stephanie, all was done and there would never be any reason to think otherwise. It turned out, however, that her brother Orlando was not as "cool" as I thought he would be. He was the captain of the baseball team, and he found out one day that I wasn't wearing a cup. In order to save myself from flashback pains, I will not elaborate.

Anyways

Here is a verse from a break up song by Sage Francis:



Maze broken
She’s runnin’
Feet swollen
He’s comin’
She’s stolen
And before he even knows it she’s gone.
Tea cups sittin’ on the hollow tree stumps
He’s dumped, and can’t seem to swallow these lumps
The beat goes on…

Yes it does, sir. Yes it does.

1For Your Eyes Only

Day of All Days

Saturday was one of the best days of my life.

Quick recap: 7am wake up, 9am get to venue, watch a bunch of audio dudes set up cords and wires and big speakers, 1215pm sound check, 1pm-5pm walk around with David waiting for cool people to start playing music, 5pm start stressing that we might go on early and Thunder won't even be there, 545pm Rachel and friends show up to make the whole thing worthwhile, 6pm start playing the best set of music that was played there all day, 610pm dance around in a space suit, 645pm finish up and walk off stage to begin signing autographs and basking in the praise of 11 year olds, 650pm receive praise from wife and friends (so sweet), 7pm watch Luminate play an awesome set, 745pm pack up stuff, change out of costume (so sad), leave to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, 9pm friends and food (what's better than that), 1030pm Juno and snoring (not because Juno is lame but because I fell asleep).

What a great day!

Don't Lose in the Stock Game of Life

That's what Lyndsey said just a sec ago.

My stocks hate me! I think that America found out that I was going to start investing in the market and it decided to start sucking at making money.

Now, now I need to calm down and develop patience. Everything is going to be okay. I should turn my stock ticker off and think of more amazing things.

Like...

I am going to be in my first concert ever on Saturday. AHHH!!! I know. It's amazing. And my enthusiasm makes it sound not as awesome, but it is going to be so great. We are really good, and hip-hop soothes my soul. You'll never see keyboards played as well as I am going to play them. Booyah! Suck on that, ayayayayayayayayayayayayayayay!

Being sick and the Best Thing Ever

Blech...

Those four... no wait... five magic letters ended teh txt msg i snt ->1 lanky

pause2
...
Unpause3

on thursday morning around 6:15 to inform my friend Panky Skanky Cranky Wanky Lanky4 that I would be unable to go to work that day due to my sickness.5 I then proceeded to go back to sleep and not wake up until around 3:30pm. That day was pretty much lame until about 8pm when the best thing ever happened.6 After that, some friends7 came over to view the greatest thing ever6 with Rachel8 and I after which we went to sleep on the fold out couch in the living room.9 The next day was a lot better. I woke up still feeling down in the dumps10 so I decided that I needed one more get well day. I started feeling a lot better around lunch time11 and that's when I started to get really excited about what I was doing that night.12 After David got off work, he came over and we got things ready and headed over to FBC Lindale Taco Bell13 in hand. We practiced until about midnite and then adjourned until 1pm the next day. The other musicians in the band are extremely skilled and it made things go very smooth. I am very excited about the concert. We are opening for Seventh Day Slumber14 and I feel like I may have heard of them before, but I'm not real sure. Rachel8 has assured me that they are on the radio, but unless they've been featured on npr15, I probably haven't heard them. Oh well.

Nick, signing off.

1This was me trying to make a joke about text message vernacular, but the sad thing is I don't even use text message language. I spell everything out.
2At this point I had to stop writing because the guest I was waiting for had arrived.
3Here is where I came back after class to resume posting.
4The best thing about David's nick name is that you can add as many rhyming words in front of it as you wish.
5I later found out it was a sinus infection.
6The Office returned with an painfully awkward episode where Michael staged a fake late night work assignment from corporate that effectively cleared Jim, Pam, Andy, and Angela's schedules which then allowed Michael to invite them to a dinner party without fear of them declining. It was a great way to ease us back into the swing of things with some of the funniest people on TV.
7David and Shannon
8The greatest wife ever who recently started a new job!!!!
9We have blue satin sheets and it looks really funny, but it's very comfy.
10Yah, I really should have thought of a different phrase.
11Hmmm... I had clam chowder, rice, tortillas, salsa, and a yummy diet coke.
12Daniel aka Thunder had asked David and I to be a part of his band for a concert he was doing on the 19th, and this was the night of our first rehearsal.
13Chicken Grilled Stuft Burrito and Chicken Soft Taco Fresco Style
14Go here
15The frickin best radio station ever. What would I do without it?16
16Listen to something else probably.

April Stock Purchases Bring May Dividends

If you or your loved ones have not begun investing in the wonderful world of stocks, bonds, hedge funds, mutual funds, etc, you are missing out on mutual fun. The world of stocks isn't all about earning, buying low, selling high, stock tickers (i have one and it's awesome), and that Mad Money show where the guy pushes buttons and tells everyone what to buy. No! It's so much more. If you haven't dabbled in stocks yet, then you are missing out on some of the great slang talk of our century.

Being an amatuer myself, I am still intrigued by the liberal use of animal symbolism in the financial world. If you are a Bull, you are an investor who thinks the market, a specific security, or an industry will rise. If you are a Bear, you are an investor who believes that a particular security or market is headed downward. So if I were to say, "In stocks today, the bulls are smiling down at the bears." I think that would mean that stocks are up. Starting to get it? Let's hear some more. If the market is neither moving up or moving down, it is a Deer Market: A flat market; a deer market is characterized by low activity, with timid investors waiting for a sign of which way the market is going to end up moving. So if I were to say, "The bulls and the bears feasted on the timid deers this morning as many stocks rose significantly while many others plummeted." Get it yet? Here is more. Bulls, bears, and deers aside, we can even see stocks being characterized by pretty little insects like Butterflies!!! That's right. A Butterfly Spread is an option strategy combining a bull and bear spread. It uses three strike prices. The lower two strike prices are used in the bull spread, and the higher strike price in the bear spread. Both puts and calls can be used. Sadly, this lingo is a bit above my current understanding, but one day I will dream of bulls, bears, deers, and butterflies frolicking in a field of my own money as I sit back in my lounge chair made of money, smoking a cigar filled with dried money. One day...

Other weird stock terms:
Iron Condor
Strangle
Long Straddle
Angelina Jolie Stock Index
Aunt Millie
Alligator Spread
Bagel Land
Back of the Napkin Business Model
Big Uglies
Chameleon Option
Clean Your Skirts
and so on and so on and so on...

Cody and the Leapazor: part 1

There are places in this world that some people will never know about. There are creatures, forests, and even oceans that some people -people who would never want to see such fantastic things for fear that their world might change -will never get a chance to see. There are foods that some mouths will never taste: greenberries, glorbenglops, and gleepfruit. There are smells that some noses will never smell: apple bush blossoms, rose tree seeds, and pine flowers. There are sounds of lion birds, tiger crickets, and bear frogs that some ears will never hear.

There are, however, some people, usually children, whose minds and hearts are so desperate for change and fantastic creatures, that they will find these wonderful places, and experience all of these strange and beautiful things. I can tell you a story of one young boy who wanted things to change so badly, that eventually everything around him flipped upside down and topsy turvy curvy and his life was never the same again.

Cody grew up in a pretty normal house. He had a bedroom that he shared with his baby brother, Cory. His parents were nice -the nicest people he had ever met. His mom stayed home while his dad went to work at an office. His dad always wore a tie to work, and sometimes Cody would go in and watch his dad tie the tie in the mirror, and then Cody would go back and try to tie one on himself. He never could get it right though. They always ended up like shoelaces. When Cody first started going to school, he missed staying home with his mom, but he soon made some friends, and going to school became really fun. Still, no matter how many friends he made, he was always happiest after school. He would walk out of the classroom and run to the road where his mom and baby brother were waiting in the car. His mom would see him coming and go open the door for him. She would give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek and say, "How was your day, Cody? I missed you so much." Then they would get in the car and Cody would tell his mom all about his day. Then when Cody was done talking, he would ask his mom about her day. She would tell him all sorts of fantastic things like, "Well, Cody, today Mommy had to save a hospital from a giant tornado. Me and your brother put on our special tornado proof capes and flew over to save the hospital." Or “Cody, you wouldn’t believe it! A giant, four-eyed carpet monster came out of the floor and tried to eat our TV. We wouldn’t let that happen, now would we Cory, baby? No! So we got out the vacuum and sucked that monster up and away from the TV. It’s still in the vacuum bag now. You can see it when we get home.” She would tell these wonderful stories all the way home until they pulled into the garage, and Cody would hop out and run inside. Once he got inside, he would always find delicious cookies in the shape of elephants or unicorns and sometimes animals that he was sure never existed. His mom would make up funny names for them, but he knew they weren't real. After cookie time, he would either play games with his brother, watch some cartoons, or help his mom make dinner for dad. His mom would try and give him important jobs like mash the potatoes, mix the salad, or stir the sauce. Sometimes she would give him some grapes in a big plastic bowl and tell him to squish them with his feet so they could have grape juice. Then, sure enough come dinner time, there would be a glass of chunky grape juice waiting at his spot. After dinner, Cody, his dad, his mom, his brother, and his dog King would go on a walk around the neighborhood, while his dad would tell about his day, and Cody would tell dad about the cookies, the carpet monsters, and the grape juice. Once they got home, dad would talk to mom, Cody and Cory would watch TV, and King would lick their feet. Bed time was both sad and happy. It was sad because the day was ending, but happy because new day was coming. Cody would fall asleep hoping to dream about how fun the next day would be, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day. Cody was happy.

To be continued...

David Sucks

Last night as I was cleaning up the night event I orchestrated, I found myself in an empty activity center. There is something mystical about an empty building that's normally full; It seems more serene. Most of my memories of that building involve loud noises, rowdy games, or seeing my wife in the store. Being in that vast, empty hall last night even for just a moment, gave me a quick, euphoric sense of peace. I could have laid down and fallen alseep or into some deep sleep-like trance where my mind took me back to all of those moments where I was in that exact same spot, doing something totally different. It was a wonderful feeling. It seems like most buildings at Sky Ranch have a similar effect on me when they are empty.

Also, I hate democracy.

Who Does TV Think He/She/It Is?

I am so sick of TV. AHHHHHH!!! I want TV to be erased from existence.

Sometimes when I think about all of the time machine stories I've read, seen, or written myself, I think that maybe it isn't impossible. Maybe if someone gets uncharacteristically lucky, hits the right buttons, and opens the right door, a hole will open, and someone will walk into it. Maybe, just maybe, it's already happened. It's logical to think that if someone dared to travel back into time, assuming that it is possible, they could easily have altered existence, and no one would know. Ever.

It would be really nice, however, if that alleged time traveller was able to have taken TV out of our existence. Soooooooo nice. Besides creating jobs and assisting the economy, what in the world has TV ever done to enrich the lives of humanity? Anything?

Was there ever a time when the enrichment of humanity was humanity's main focus? It seems that we are occasionally able to interpret history in a way that makes it seem we were all truly interested in making things better, but I doubt they ever existed.

TV only serves the lives of the people on the TV, and even then, it's not for sure. Sometimes TV is so horrible that it not only makes worse the lives of the people watching, but also the lives of the people getting paid millions to "entertain." Reality shows are perfect examples of this. I especially can't understand why anyone would allow a camera crew into your personal home to film your first year of marriage. Oh wait, yes I do:

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

TV is a horribly addictive drug that millions of people have formed an addiction to. Try not watching TV for a whole day. It might be okay. You might not go into cold sweats yet. Try not watching TV for a week. I bet you'll miss it. I bet you'll be really curious about what's going on in all of these fake people's lives. I bet you'll find yourself with so much time to do things that make your life better. I bet you'll spend more time with God. I bet you'll read more and enrich your mind. But even with all of the positives, I bet you'll still miss TV. How about a month? Two months? Six months? Don't think you can do it?

You're probably right. Forget it. Let's go watch TV. Girlmore Girls anyone?

Luck of the Unposted Sale

Okay, here is the situation:

Nick and David are slowly perusing the TV on DVD section of Best Buy. We are searching for one particular season of one particular show: Gilmore Girls season two. That's right. Leave me alone. It's an awesome show. Nevertheless, we found it, and to our great distress, it cost a ridiculous $48.99. Why? Probably because of the writer's strike settlement or something. Who knows? Freakin Amy Sherman Palladino. I bet she was picketing with all the rest of those unstoppable dynamo writers. i wanna be one...

anyways


So we debate back and forth on why I should give in to this insidious and horrifying example of burgeoning capitalism and attentuate my bank account just so that I can see Rory start dating Jess, Lorelai break up with Max, and Lane become a decent drummer. Eventually we decided that it was time to buck up and get it over with. We picked it up and walked over to the checkout line. As the woman with dark skin, green eyes, and braided locks, scanned my purchase, I realized that the number on the screen was not $50, nor was it $48, nor was it even $30. My friends, the price of the lovely, quick-witted saga of Rory and Lorelai's inability to keep a man around turned out to be a mere $21.64. How? I didn't ask. I got out of there as fast as I could and sprint-walked to the car for fear that someone was following me to correct their mistake.

Free hamburgers at the fair, catching the second movie after only paying for one, mugging the occasional business man by the ATM, and now this.

Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket...

The Best Poem Ever Written

Canceled Subscription

Glossy eyes stared up at me from the pages of a magazine

they followed me around the room

watching as I took the glass from the cupboard

I felt them roll behind me as I poured the wine

turned on the gas

and touched the tip of a match

to the stack of term papers I hadn't graded yet

their fate fulfilled by fire

their substance thickened by flame

I will never know the significance of vernacular in

To Kill a Mockingbird

as seen through the mind of the

uninspired

bored

hormonal

teen desperately trying to meet the 1000 word limit

Or the nature of Huck Finn's relationship with

N-Word Jim

as seen through the mind of the

young

nubile

second row

third period

American lit student

whose eyes continued to stare up at me from

the glossy pages of a magazine.

Michael N Daniel

a.k.a. Nick and David

I Wish I Could Fly Away

Dear God,

Make me a bird so I can fly far, far, far away from here.


In other news...


No, I am not going to talk about this weekend's events because I don't know if I am able to give the full account it would require. I did go and see that Jumper movie on Friday night, and it was interesting. It has caused me to think about how much I want to be a writer. I truly love the concept of writing and telling stories that involve elaborately fictional ideas and characters. I hope to post some serialized stories here soon.


In other news...


My wife and I had a wonderful time on Saturday day. We went to a bridal show as an exhibitor in order to promote Rachel's photography business that we are desperately trying to get off the ground. It seems we got some possible clients, and if nothing else, the name of Rachel Robinson will be spoken in Jacksonville, TX for at least a while. Everyone who came by the table seemed legitimately impressed with what we had to show them. Donna Cummings, who seems to be the head honcho as far as East Texas photography goes, made quite an effort to befriend Rachel. She gave some good advice and even offered to hire Rachel on contract for some of her own clients. It could be cool. It could also be laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaame, but probably not.


In other news...


Democracy is still dead. It was pronounced dead when GWB was elected the second time. It is not in a coma. It is deceased. There will be no memorial, nor will there be a coffin or grave-site. It is dead, but the saddest part is that no one will even know that is dead for quite some time. I hope you will not be one of the blind fools who still believes that it is alive and well. Wake up, friends. Democracy is dead, hey, democracy is dead.

Adieu.

Democracy is dead! HEY Democracy is dead! HEY HEY

Come on, chant with me! Democracy is dead! Democracy is dead! Democracy is dead, we kicked it in the head, we punched it in the heart, we pumped it full of lead, Democracy is dead! Hey, Democracy is dead!

Today's rabble is Democracy is dead!

I imagine that you're all probably scrolling down the page to find the part where I go into some elaborate, political reasoning to explain myself and my opinions, but you may as well keep your mouse steady, folks, because I'm not gonna do it. I'm simply going to make the statement that democracy is no longer with us, and I dare you to challenge me!

Deal with it.

Elimino Pete and the Queue

Elimino Pete and the Queue

Ten years ago if you mentioned the names David Lankford and Nick Robinson anywhere in America, you'd have a young adult riot on your hands faster than EPQ's tight, irreplecable riffs. Elimino Pete and the Queue has been self producing their music for almost twenty years now, but it was just a short decade ago when something happened that changed the face of American music forever. Back in 2007, Nick and David lived in Tyler, Texas, a small burb eighty miles east of Dallas. They attended a church called the Vineyard: home of the late Eisley, South Africa's own Ivoryline, and Luvbeat, the crown jewel of Mo Murda Records, a subsidiary of Spaceway. The church's stage was so exclusive that it seemed a record contract was a pre-requisite even for running sound. Though David, the guitar-toting lyrical genius behind so many of EPQ's mega hits, was able to get in on a few very special occassions, it seemed the duo was unable to find their way on to the Vineyard stage. The two actually wrote a series of songs based on their low profile during the late 00's, Who Do You Think I'm Knot? --released as a single off of their third album, Rock U Like a Rocker; I'm Not Who You Think I'm Not --the opening track off of Esteamed Brocolli, the encore follow-up album to Be Rock Holy; and the unforgettable slow jam that was stuck in the ear hole of every 17-28 year old girl this summer, Why Don't You Want to Love Me? off of their latest expectoration I Left My Feelings in My Other Pants.
It wasn't until Nick and David landed a regular gig as H.I.S. Church in Grand Saline, now pastored by the recently paroled Rev. Joel Osteen, that they found an outlet for their fledgling musical spirits. It was here that EPQ found a legitimate fan base that seems to still follow them to this day. Though Nick and David claim different cities as their hometowns, Grand Saline, TX claims them as their own. East Texas is always home to the last stop on each of EPQ's sold out tours across America.
Elimino Pete and the Queue is still pumping out hits with every album they release. After Why Don't You Want to Love Me? had it's three month run at number one from May to July of this year, they released their second single, Remember the Memories, which is still in the top ten. It seems that nothing can bring these guys down. Even after Nick's eldest son, Cash, almost drowned in the family's controversial money pool earlier this fall, and David constantly beating back allegations that his third marriage and divorce a month later were just to give him the pain he needs to write good music, EPQ's front men can't seem to come down from that first great high they experienced with their first ever single, Musical High Note. Though their fan base seems to be moving from young adult emo-ticans to middle age hipsters, if you keep on listening, EPQ will always tug at the heart strings of every man, woman, and child who hears the musical stylings of who could one day be known as the greatest musical duo since Paul and Art, Shane and Shane, or even Johnny and June.

The Rise of Amie Diane

As the photoshoot went in to its third hour, you could tell she was getting frustrated. Over and over I heard things like, "My body is not to be seen! It's in my contract and you better be listening to me instead of just nodding along while thinking to yourself 'Prima donna, I'll do what I'm gonna do.'" This isn't the first time Ms. Amie Diane felt pressure to get the job done the way it was suppossed to. You see, for all her pomp and flair and commanding tone she is not the one really running the show. Moving the strings above the growing popularity of the beautiful Amie was her devoted publicist, loving friend, and dictatorial manager --Raquel. Raquel discovered Amie many years ago when she was a poor, desperate girl willing to do anything to make it in this business. Once Raquel got ahold of that striking face and commanding presence, Amie Diane blew up into the industry's juggernaut that she is today. Raquel gave her a home, a career, and most of all a presence in her life that, while controlling and overbearing (it's rumored that Raquel has to literally hold Amie down in order to get her nails done right), actually looks out for what is best for Amie. Before Raquel, Amie had a slew of managers, agents, "friends," lovers with the "best intentions," and people without titles that thought they knew what was best for the young star, but every time, without fail, Amie was left with less money, no confidence, and a weaker spirit. They used her in order to elevate themselves leaving behind the scraps for Amie to try and make a living off of. Raquel found her right after being let down again by her sometimes boyfriend Djorgey "Boy" Edward who had promised her he could get her a spot on the Ellen DeGeneres show, but later telling her he lost the phone number he had of Ellen's and now can't get ahold of anyone in her office. It was in this broken, dejected spirit that Raquel saw promise and power. Amie Diane, within a year of meeting Raquel, became the fastest rising star ever to grace the page, and it seems there is no end to her greatness. Just last week, Ms. Diane was seen canoodling with a local hispanic stock mogul, Da Bump, so named for his uncanny ability to predit bumps in the stock market, and they are rumored to be putting together a new charity that will focus its efforts on reversing the spay and neuter your pets campaign of the early and mid-nineties. A source close to the pair says "They believe that everyone should have the right to bring a life into the world." On a recent Oprah visit, Amie was asked how she felt about the fact that Raquel forced her to go through the operation when she first started managing her, "I have never once questioned Raquel's good intentions for me, and I won't start now." Amie Diane, firmly established in her current field, is beginning to branch out. Aside from her project with Da Bump, Amie is currently in talks with Touchstone pictures about a project loosely based on her life, a la Eminem's "8 Mile." She has also been spotted talking with fashion mogul Heidi Klum, and she is rumored to be appearing as a guest judge on the next season of Project Runway.

After the photoshoot came to an end, I went over to introduce myself to Ms. Diane and tell her about the article I was writing. As I approached her, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see the stern, unforgiving face of Raquel shaking her head as if to say, "You don't think you get to talk to her, do you?" I agreed. I wasn't worthy.

The Story of Sweet, Little Alfonzo

One day, back in the day, there was a sweet, little monkey named Alfonzo. Alfonzo was orphaned after his family was attacked by another clan of monkeys who mistakenly thought Alfonzo's clan had stolen their banana stash. Alfonzo survived by by curling up in a hairy, little ball in a hollowed out tree as he waited out the great battle that raged around him. Alfonzo finally came out of his tree-hole to find everyone he knew strewn about the forest in a bloody mess of squished-bananas, and assorted monkey parts. After he dried his tears and ate some depressing banana mess, he decided to set out to find his new home. Alfonzo wandered the forest and jungles of the world searching for monkeys who would accept him for who he was and what he loved. After Alfonzo's parents were killed, he began to comfort himself in the only way he knew how: holding his wee-wee in his mouth. Everytime Alfonzo found a new family, he was immediately expunged from their presence after they discovered his socially unacceptable habit. Soon Alfonzo realized that there were no monkeys left in the world who would accept him for who he was. It was this realization that helped him realize that his place was with a new sort of monkey: the less hairy, slightly smarter, clothes wearing human monkeys that he had only heard about in stories. So Alfonzo finally found a home in a beautiful place called the zoo. It was here that his newly acquired vice was not only accepted, but praised. And it is there that Alfonzo lives to this day, hanging on a fence, wee-wee in his mouth, thinking of the past and the crazy path that led him to where he is now.