Something I like;

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqLssKusGzM&feature=related

There Will [also] Be [David] at this movie.

I've been a Daniel Day Lewis fan since "In the Name of the Father". I'm also a huge fan of Western Gothic. So this looks like it's a combination of two very awesome things. I mean come on, it's called "There Will Be Blood." Literal titles that tell me what I should expect are always the best.

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Hypothetical Conversation;

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David - Hey Ash, want to go see a movie?

Ashlee - Sure. What do you want to watch?

David - Maybe "There Will Be Blood"

Ashlee - Oh whats that about?

Dave - Not quite sure, but let me tell you something, there will be blood.

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So simple, but oh so right. Today I watched Pirates of the Caribbean III but it should have been titled, "Another Pirates of the Caribbean Movie That Is Not as Good as the First One so Don't waste Your Time Watching It". Titles like that are appreciated.

Where the Wild Things Are, the movie.

Praise Popomo, "Where the Wild Things Are" is back!! (for all of you I-just-can't-keep-up-with-all-this-liberal-intellectual-lingo types, Popomo is post-postmodernism. And if you don't know what post-postmodernism is; let's just say it's the proposition that we now live in a world of mass-media simulation and that any attempt to find a stable reality behind this bewildering cacophony or noisious intermingling is impossible. It furthermore stresses that anything 'real' has disappeared and creativity can now only be found deep within the original thought of what is smothered and layered with replication for the purpose of touching nostalgia. Still don't get it? Consider it the bastard son of Postmodern thinking, only purifying itself of said reliance and alienating concepts such as the 'material non transcendental signified' which seeks to claim itself a referential relationship with concepts which in themselves do not refer out from themselves because referential functions are self-referring.) And you ask why I dropped Honors Literature at the university? The aforementioned jargon is why. If you're a mere pseudo-intellectual like me you have no idea what any of this tittle and jot means. So let's get back to "Where the Wilde Things Are".

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This has got to be one of the best books ever written... er at least drawn. I don't remember much if any of the dialogue or story but the pictures are etched in my mind forever. When I was a kid I freaking loved this book and I'll gander a bet you did too. Unless you were a godless pinko running from all things good or the progeny of crack addicts whose parents poisoned you with an addiction to TV Guide because it's the only printed text they had in the house (not a stab at you Cami I promise). This has to be one of your favorite books of all-time and if it isn't one of your favorite books of all-time, I probably am not friends with you because I don't make friends with commies and people with ill-shapen heads (well, except for Spencer). Too far? Ya, you're right. It is Christmas. Anyway, I am beyond stoked for this movie. I love Spike Jonze and sometimes Dave Eggers doesn't ruin things.

Chuck Norris & Steven Segal are kidnapping families for cash.

As it 'tis the season, I've found myself frequenting the Gateway Shopping Center a little more often than I would normally want to were it not for the opportunities to bump into my man here... and that's what I call him, "My Man!!! What's up my man!?

We usually meet up and talk about stocks and investment strategies while we dine on exotic cheezes and caviar. Sometimes we meet up with his buddies who I've grown quite fond of. I really appreciate their verity. For example Sammy here cannot tell a lie;

Hank on the other hand is a little left of honest but creativity's gotta count for something right?

And who knows, maybe he really is telling the truth. I can imagine Chuck Norris and Steven Segal are a bit hard-pressed for cash considering their recent coversion of box-office blitzes to a heralding line up on Tough-guy-Tuesday which includes Movies for Guys who like Movies! The thing is those ninjas picked the wrong family because A) this guy's got no money to buy his family back. And B) when he does get some money he's buying karate lessons instead so he can wreak some wicked judo chopping kung fu on those has beens.

Dreams can come true on the internet.

I don't know about the rest of you but in preparation of Christmas every year I spent my childhood Decembers watching Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer and subsequently came to identify most with Hermey...

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He's the elf who wanted to be a dentist instead of an elf. And you know what? I still identify with Hermey because I'm the Medical Program Director who wants to be an elf instead of the Medical Program Director.

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Well thanks to the internet I am one step closer:

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http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1284848957

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and if you're wondering about the look on my face, it's because I know this is just a teaser... that's right, a temporary gig. And after I'm done dancing here I've got to go back to the office. Ashlee and Max on the other hand are happy as can be because they get to go back to doing whatever they dang well please all day long because they don't have to report to executives and argue with doctors and lawyers all day!

So much for being nice.

You can see how well being nice turned out for me... I haven't blogged in two weeks! That means I'm giving up on it and going back to satire. Besides, scorn and ridicule are totally natural when exposing vice and folly and who am I to go up against nature? I've watched others try and they always end up getting worked over. Case in point:

examples of those who challenge nature;

1) Little Orphan Orange (you know?... the orange Otter Pop): most people challenging nature's steep slopes after a fresh layer of snow are bound to become sno-cones like this guy.

2) Timothy Treadwell: So it turns out you can't find a picture of Timothy Treadwell getting eaten by a grizzly on the internet but you can find this sweet DVD cover art of him right before he was eaten.

3) Some guy kayaking with what he probably thought was one of those big, friendly Japanese Coy just before it swallowed his kayak.

For anyone heading to the beach: you don't need to be afraid of the ocean just because of a few man-eating sharks. In fact, I found this great comparison of rare causes of death that puts it all into perspective:

Now let me get this strait; you're saying I'm more likely to get killed (and not just maimed) by "contact with hot tap water" than I am by "shark attack"? This puts a whole new spin on everything.

I'm writing something nice for once. Happy?

I'm going to warn you up front; You've heard of the phrase, "it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt" right? Well this blog is the verbal equivalent of "someone getting hurt" because the fun and games are over my friend.

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See, I've been fielding complaints about my blog and there's been so much whining for me to "just write something nice" that I've decided the usual vogelsblogger mockery and satire needs a holiday. Who knows, maybe this will be the turning point and my blog will cease to offend and begin to inspire. Honestly though, that is a big 'maybe'.

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For starters I'm referring to my journal. There's a quote I found and pasted to the cover that reminds me why I write and should remind everyone else out there why they should write too. Not always to make people laugh, but maybe more so to make people feel and think then grow. If you're not writing, you should be. And if you think you don't have anything worth writing, the quote I have pasted to the cover of my journal may do you some good...

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"On Saturday, 20 June 1942, Anne Frank, a young Jewish girl who eventually died in the Holocaust wrote the following in her personal journal: "I haven't written for a few days, because I wanted first of all to think about my diary. It's an odd idea for someone like me to keep a diary; not only because I have never done so before, but because it seems to me that neither I -nor for that matter anyone else- will be interested in the unbosomings of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. Still, what does that matter? I want to write, but more than that, I want to bring out all kinds of things that lie buried deep in my heart" (Ann Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl [1952], 2).

Why aren't you married yet?

This is dedicated to all the single people out there who just endured yet another Thanksgiving meal surrounded by way too many family members who asked "why aren't you married yet?". (and the thing is they ask it like you know what the single reason is... like you've just got one last item to mark off your list of to-do's before the gorgeous, opposite-gendered, perfect match out of nowhere walks up to you and says they want to spend the rest of their life with you)

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I feel for these people and I feel for them because I used to be one of them. I got married when I was 28 and that amounts to like 7 Thanksgivings (10 minimum if you're a girl living in Utah!) that I went through having to listen to this garbage. Some would pat a warm hand on my back and with a jovial smile say, "So Dave, when are we putting another plate on the table for Mrs. David Vogelsberg?". Others would pull me aside and really sincerely inquire about the last girl I introduced them to and say, "Whatever happened to [Karen / Mary / Shantil / Kami / Andrea / Rachel / Megan / Marianne / Megan / Rachel / Amber / Kate / Amber / Kristin or whoever else it was that they liked the best... look man, I'm not proud of introducing 22 girls to my family and I'll admit that it was a mistake so give it a rest already!)

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As a favor to my old comrades who are looking for ways to explain why they are not married, I'm rendering a huge service here free of charge to everyone out there who is single (and most likely enjoying it by-the-way) and heading home for Christmas. They know they are about to enter another round of "why aren't you married yet?" and probably need some help deflecting the hot-seat back to the inquisitor. So feel free to borrow any of my responses below to let that person know exactly why it is that you're not married yet;

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1. Because I just love hearing this question.

2. I was hoping to do something meaningful with my life.

3. I'm going to ask you the same thing when you're divorced.

4. Just lucky I guess.

5. It gives my grandmother something to live for.

6. My fiancee is awaiting his/her parole.

7. I'm still hoping for a shot at Miss/Mr. America.

8. Do you know how hard it is to get two tickets to Miss Saigon!?

9. I am married. We just didn't invite you to the wedding.

10. It didn't seem worth the blood test.

11. I already have enough laundry to do, thank you.

12. Because I think it would take all the spontaneity out of dating.

13. I'm terminally ill and won't make it through the winter.

14. They just opened a great singles bar on my block.

15. My dad still gives me $10 a week for allowance and he's cutting me off when I get married. And that's $40 a month!

16. I guess it just goes to show that those voodoo dolls don't work.

17. What? And just throw away all the money I've invested in personal ads?

18. I don't want to have to support another person on my paycheck. Child-support is already killing me!

19. Why aren't you thin?

20. Because the guy/girl I'm dating is already married and doesn't suggest it.

21. I'd have to move to Massachussets for it to be legal.

22. (Bonus reply for single mothers) Because having a husband and a child would be redundant.

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Okay okay, now that I've got my wife ticked off and my mom is going to call me and tell me to stop writing aweful stuff... the only answer I could ever give in truth was, "I hadn't met Ashlee yet". Until I met her it just didn't make any sense.

Let the Holy War begin!

And might I remind all of you Zoobies out there that fasting and praying does not work for football... Do you really think that your first prayer all year and skipping left-over turkey that is dried out and nasty anyway really counts as fasting and praying? Besides you're going up against a school which happens to be the Alma Mater of the prophet himself, not to mention countless apostles. And as if that weren't enough, lets just say, hypothetically speaking of course, that the Mormons aren't the only one's getting through to heaven and maybe all the other big hitting religions and their Gods have a key to the Pearly Gates too. If that's the case then lets face it, your (and my) Almighty is trying with all his might to ignore the peer pressure from all the Mohammeds and Allahs and Zeus', not to mention the brazen images and colored rainbows that people are praying too. And I say so because I'm willing to bet here that the U has way more Gods listening to prayers right now than BYU does. I mean really, how many Catholics and Jews and Arabs did you sit next to in your Book of Mormon 101 class at the Y? I remember studying at the U with Habeebs and Schwarts' and... um, does anyone know a common last name for a Catholic that I can insert here? And I can't leave out the occasionally smelly crack-head who never bathed and always ranted about the Apocalypse... he's the guy praying to the colored rainbow.

GO UTES!

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I'm eating Frosted Raspberry Pop-tarts for breakfast

I was going to post a blog on the awesome article I found in the New York Times last night... an entire page dedicated to BULL-FIGHTING MIDGETS in Mexico!? And I was going to include a segment on how tired I am of listening to people talk about how much they hate the word 'moist' but I've got stuff to do so it'll have to wait. (I know, I'm anxious for it too)

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Before I go though, can I just vent about all the people who have been asking me, "so what do you do"? And they ask it like, "soooooo, what do you do?" but with a really snobby inflection on 'you', like they draw it out a long time while the last part of the word slowly rises in pitch. These people are usually wearing velvet robes and smoking a pipe or sipping brandy sniffers while looking down on me through a monacle. And then I'm like "What? When did I enter upper class New York circa 1910?". When I tell them I manage a medical program (and let's be honest, the title 'Medical Program Manager' has some umph to it) they back off because they think I'm some sort of Doogie Howser prodigy. And then they ask me what I did before working for ULGT which in a way is an indirect way of saying "how did you get here?" and I tell them I just rode my bike all day.

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To be honest I miss those days; traveling all over to ride my bike through deep woods and over big rocks. Now I just sit in front of a computer all day and go to meetings with doctors and lawyers who make really bad jokes about the candy dish up front... I know Scott I get it! You like Peanut M&M's. No no I got your arcane reference to whether or not they put Afghani herione or Burmese heroine in them to make them taste so good. No no that's not it. I didn't laugh because it wasn't funny.

iamthankfulforpunctuationandgrammar

thisblogpostisatributetoeveryoneouttherewhofindsittooburdensometousethespacebarandperiodkeywhiletypingalltherandomthoughtsintheirheadwhichconsequentlysubjectseveyoneelsetothepainoftryingtoactuallymakesenseofwhatyouvewritten

Times of Sun and Times of Clouds

I was just reading the newspaper at a dealership as I waited for my car. The five day forecast showed the normal picture of the sun partially covered by a cloud but where I think it normally would have read, "partly cloudy" the writer had put "Times of sun and times of clouds". And now it's my favorite paper because it makes me happy to imagine a poet stuck writing weather forecasts but still sneaking his poetry past the editor.

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Times of Sun and Times of Clouds.

Great moments in my History...

"I am sofa we king we Todd did"

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I don't know why that just came to mind but it is funny! Reminds me of one of my greater moments; a couple of years ago I asked a friend's mom and brother-in-law to read the aforementioned over and over. I laughed and laughed before they finally figured it out. Good stuff really. And I was feeling pretty intelligent and superior to these lesser mortals who could only read what they were reading instead of hear what they were reading. Yup, I was feeling pretty smart so when they asked me if I wanted to play Boggle I had to oblige.

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The brother-in-law was a cool, humble guy who didn't seem to think he had the smarts because he operated heavy machinery for a job (not to mention that I just mocked him mercilessly for not getting "I am sofa we king we Todd did") but I'm telling you this dude is some sort of genious. Boggle brought out some serious brilliance and he proceeded to humiliate me in return. This guy was practically writing prose and haiku poetry with all the words he was coming up with! I on the other hand was struggling to find so much as an abreviation! Truth be told, I was coming up with words like "at" and "it" before my friend's mom leaned towards me and quietly pointed out that the words had to have at least three letters to count. They were nice enough to let me use them anyway so after the first round I read my list: "at", "it", "to" and I saved my big zinger for the finale... "ate"!

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In hindsight I think the applause and praise I recieved must have been sarcastic because when the brother-in-law read his list, which was more like a paragraph, which was actually more like a thesis, he had about 512 more words than I did and they all had more then two letters. Heavy equipment operator or not, this guy cleaned up and used my head as the empty mop bucket. I don't care what he says, he is smarter than me and I can't drive a tractor either! Another thing he can undoubtedly kick my trash at.

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I know what you're thinking. I must have some physical prowess to make up for such a deficiency in my intellect. Well I used to think that too but then I played ping pong with a friend's 50 year-old dad and he whooped me? After we pulled up in St. George for the visit, the friend's dad offered me some toast and I think some fruit snacks. Then he asked if I played ping pong. (I was thinking, who "plays" ping pong? Doesn't everyone just kind of smack the ball around with those little wooden paddles during family-home-evening and never really get competitive about it? This guy is definately the exception to that idea). I told him, "ya I play ping pong" and he runs upstairs and comes back down in a jump suite! Ya I know... a jump suite!? For ping pong!? (suddenly I'm envisioning a lot of trash talk and tears during family night at this house). I mean geez, do you really need to put on a jump suite and lace up your sneakers for ping pong?! And a double knot!? Well I guess so because he beat me 21 to zip three times. Freaking Forest Gump!

Over the river and through the woods...

We're approaching that most wonderful time of year when my in-laws get together for Thanksgiving and pull out the guns. And trust me that when I say guns, I mean gunSSSS.

After my first year of shot-gun shooting at grandma and grandpa Clawson's I thought for sure I had married into a family with direct blood lines connecting to Wyatt Earp. These guys have more guns than a Quitin Tarantino movie. Kinda crazy nobody gets hurt. I know I know, hard to believe but true. It's made me a believer of the A-Team really. I always thought that it was just impossible to fire so many bullets without hitting anyone like they do on that show, but I'm telling you man it can happen. I guess it makes sense for a guy like Mr. T though... all that jewelry waving around knocking bullets... now I get it.

just post a comment...

Look man, I'm not going to be all put up in your face about this, but dangit if you're reading this leave a comment and don't send me a text message and be all, "you're blog is the funniest thing ever". I have a company cell phone and when I get 50 text messages in a month saying, "I just read your blog" and "Post another blog" and "Man I love your blog" my boss gets suspicious as to what I do all day... so STOP TEXTING ME.

Besides, I'm not a very funny person anyway. I know this. I have one joke. Well actually I have two jokes but one is in Spanish and I'm guessing you don't even speak Spanish so I'm not going to waste your time with it. And I quit telling the the other one after Pirates of the Caribbean ruined it. That one goes, "Did you hear about the pirate movie? It's rated AAAAARRRRRRR!". That is pretty much as good as my jokes get so lucky for you I've quit telling it. Now when I ask, "Did you hear about that pirate movie?" everyone says, "ya, ya I have heard about that pirate movie but I just don't know about Orlando Bloom. I mean Johnny Depp was good and oh my gosh Keira Knightly is so hot! Jonathan Pryce was okay but he always plays the same character". Then I have to say, "ok no! You have to say "No, no I haven't'." but by then the joke is ruined and not even close to being funny so I've given up on it.

The best blog post ever...

I'm telling you man, this blogging business is rough. I've let my blog go for two days and I'm already getting harassed to make another post. I don't really have anything in my head worth writing today... well... I did have several ideas occur to me while driving home yesterday but I'll have to bundle them into two tidy packages:

1) There is a word that describes plastic bags stuck in winter trees; "witches britches"... I didn't make that up. Look it up.

2) At 1:19 into "Paradise City", (please, please don't ask my why I was listening to "Paradise City" yesterday) right before Axl and the crew begin to wreak havoc on that song, someone blows a whistle as if to say, "now my friends, now we will begin to rock!". - cut to Dave standing alone on a stage. Spotlight please. "So one time when I was in the 4th grade I would run laps at recess and sing "Paradise City" to myself. Well, at least the chorus but that's not the funny part. Well it is kind of funny... imagine a 4th grade Dave in all his prebuscent rocker glory singing the chorus of Paradise City and playing the air guitar while running. Anyway, one time after I tried to do laundry by myself I washed all my whites and turned them pink but I wasn't a picky kid so I wore tighty pinkies. (Just now some sicko bookmarked my page. I'm looking at you Hank.) Anyway, one night I pulled everything off as kids are wont to do (still watching you Hank you sicko) and got ready for bed. The next morning I pulled the same pair of jeans on without noticing the dyed pink underwear in my pant leg. Don't ask me how I didn't feel them... that I cannot explain. Well about half way through my first lap around the playground the underwear jostled loose and came tumbling out of the the bottom of my pants and onto the ground... and so it goes. My life was over and don't make funny of me you pricks, it would have ruined your childhood too. But that my friends is a funny story." - Cut spotlight. Scattered applause -

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Sorry, no photo available...

I'm getting Gephart!

Does anybody know how to get in touch with Dr. Phil? I've decided to take Max in for a paternity test and I know Dr. Phil is the real deal. At least they say he's legit. Then again, I could probably save some serious cash if I went with Montel... or Jerry Springer! Maybe I could even get Geraldo to do a special and I could throw a chair and break someone's nose after I find out Max isn't really my child and I go all crazy-berserk!

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I know you're all thinking that this is just horrible. But how else do you get to bottom of this?

OH, GOOD GRIEF!

Can I just take a minute and shout a big Charlie Brown "GOOD GRIEF!" to the anonymous commentor who thinks it's "better to have garbage cans than garbage lying all over..." (see comments to October 29th post, Garbage Cans...One. Trees...Zero.) Unless it was my mom, that is, which isn't entirely possible because even though she's an eternal optimist she's not too computer savy... no offense mom. Who am I to talk? It took me roughly 2 weeks to figure out how to even add the comment option.

Anyway, NOOOOOOO, I DON'T THINK IT'S BETTER TO HAVE GARBAGE CANS LYING ALL OVER! All those garbage cans are just as bad as those white to-go bags from Wendy's or (dare I say it?) Diet Pepsi, frappuccino, and iced tea cups, lids and straws! And their bigger! Those huge garbage cans clutter the park just like litter itself. "Better" would involve less garbage AND less garbage cans in a park after people stop being so lazy that they won't throw away their trash unless they have to walk more than 10 feet. Just throw your trash away no matter how far you have to walk. Didn't you come to GO ON A WALK THROUGH THE PARK ANYWAY!!??

I don't know about you but I don't want my kid growing up playing in parks that hold the Guennis Book of World Records record (yes, I did type record twice on purpose... actually I typed "Records" and then "record" if you're looking to pick a fight) for most trash cans in a single area because people are so freggin' lazy!

And who are you anyway Mr. Anonymous?! Or Mrs. Anonymous?! Too scared? You should be!

"RRRRRRRaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr"

TKO!

Has anyone else had the joy of having their wisdom teeth (as my wife likes to call it,) "yanked" from their face lately? Tell me I'm not the only one wondering if my Maxilofacial Surgeon, DMD, MD yada yada yada punched me in the face a few times while I was out. And I mean really punched me... like threw a good uppercut or two. And why not? He's thinking, this guys going to bruise anyway and all the pain will just blend together so he knows he could get away with it. For some reason, I still picture him standing over me, throwing jabs while his "surgical assistant" prances around the office in a bikini and high-heels, holding up signs over her head telling which round is about to begin.

bad costume ideas...

I'm sure some of you are thinking that I just took this photo after sanding all the dry-wall in our master bathroom... not so. I was actually trying out some different Halloween costume ideas for next year and it came to me... Why not paint myself like a white man? I mean Ted Danseon painted himself up as a black man and it was a HIT! Or was it? I'm confused.