Christian and Zachary Are Different

In honor of our friends Courtney and Amanda, we have decided to use this blog post to enumerate the many ways that the progenitors of this domain are dissimilar. When two people use a common forum to advertise their goodies, it is not difficult to confuse their entities and consider them a unified front. So, in the spirit of Christian honesty, we, Zachary and Christian, have deigned to show mercy on you, our beloved readers, and give you the insider's look and remedy your ignorance through a VH1-behind-the-music-esque view of our motley lives.

So, without further ado:

1) Christian is from the West Coast, and Zachary is from the East Coast.

2) Zachary rolls with Biggie, Christian rolls with Tupac.

3) Christian is the son of a male nurse, and Zachary is the son of a male pastor.

4) Zachary is skinny, and Christian is not-so-skinny.

5) Christian likes to be honest with his friends, trusting that their friendship will endure no matter what the topic,
while "Zachary" likes to beat around the bush and usually ends up hurting feelings more often that way.

6) Zachary has never paid for sex.

7) Christian doesn't like to talk about it. Zachary won't let it go.

8) Zachary will worry about a term paper for two weeks only to start it the night before it's due. Christian will not worry about a term paper until the night before it's due.

9) Christian is not afraid to touch you. Zachary is watching you.

10) Zachary's favorite color is green. Christian's favorite color is blue.

11) Christian was a first baseman, and Zachary was a second baseman.

12) Zachary likes a woman who ain't scared to get dirty. Christian wants a girl he can take home to meet mom.

13) Christian finds value in reading children's literature such as Harry Potter. Zachary is an intellectual snob who thinks children are weak-minded.

14) Zachary got an A- in Modern European Literature while Christian only managed to get a B+.

15) Christian wonders why Zachary is so afraid to be equals. Zachary is compensating for something.

16) Zachary would like to uppercut you right out of those Crocs and that Jack Johnson T-Shirt. Christian thought his first CD was okay.

17) Christian wears sandals. Zachary does not like bare male feet.

18) Zachary was born in the Fall, Christian was born in the Summer.

19) Christian thinks that Church and society should learn to openly dialogue with another. Zachary thinks God doesn't see him when defecates on public monuments.

20) Zachary believes that desperate times call for desperate measures; dictators must be overthrown one way or another. Christian will be voting for John McCain.

21) Christian likes to vote with his pants on. Zachary has never made it through an election without getting arrested.

22) Zachary has 99 problems and four of them are bitches. Christian wishes he wasn't a bitch.

23) Christian isn't a bitch.

24) Yeah-huh.

25) When was the last time you were truly vulnerable?

26) I don't remember.

27) I wish I didn't.

28) Zachary drinks to remember. Christian drinks to forget.

29) Christian took the registrar seriously and now has a college degree, unlike Zachary who will never be a competent French speaker.

30) Zachary tries not say hurtful things to his friends which he might regret in the morning. When he's sober.

Fighting Crime Doesn't Pay

Superheroes everywhere are putting down their capes and donning white collars to join a new kind of intensive force: the labor force. Their mission: to make rent and utilities by the first of the month. Superhero representative/spokesperson Adriana Adams, when questioned about this trend, said, "Superheroes are people, too. People who need shelter, food, and normalcy." Adams went on to relate that that superheroes are simply not making enough money to support themselves and/or any legitimate or otherwise conceived superhero babies they may have flying around. The superhero community has repeated time and again that they cannot continue their services without compensation, calling the public-at-large a bunch of "freeloading 'normies' who need constant babysitting." The public, however, has refused to acknowledge the requests of its mutant, radioactive counterparts believing "normies" to be a term of endearment to the completely helpness nature of the flightless, superstrengthless majority of the human race.

When asked how he felt regarding leaving the public eye as a superhuman, the incredible Hulk responded, "Well, it just makes me [expletive] angry, mostly. I mean, [expletive], we have asked those [expletive] to help us out financially. It's not a [expletive] cake-walk reeking mayhem and pursuing vigilante justice...we're risking our [expletive] lives out there." And the Hulk is not the only superhero to feel this way. The amazing Spider-man commented, "We can't be out there all the time. We just can't. Yes, we have great power and even greater responsibility. But my bills don't pay themselves...It really is best."

The superhero community has been contemplating this move for a long time, and only now have they finally made the seriousness of the situation and the actuality of the switch known. This has also given superheroes the chance to find jobs where their unique powers will be of use to them. Many, however, have found the job hunt to be somewhat fruitless. Wolverine was stopped outside of a broker's office in Manhattan, he shared, "Listen, bub, there just isn't much to say. What use does a broker have for a guy with an adamantium skeleton and retractable claws? I have powers, not skills."

And so, the Avengers, the X-men, the Fantastic Four are no more. With the disbanding of all these superhero groups, the public finds itself wondering exactly who will fight for them, protecting the innocent and apprehending the baddies. The superheroes, meanwhile, are up against a whole new set of trials - fitting in to the world around them and making endsmeet. Many are trading their high-tech radio communicators and telepathic powers for cell phones which present their own problems such as setting up voicemail and text messaging. And maybe it is time that normies rise to the call of this new era and act like heroes now. How? By offering jobs to any street corner hobo who looks like he once was a Human Torch, or by sharing any expertise regarding common, modern technology (cell phones, iPod's, etc.) with someone wearing ruby-quartz glasses because he just may have been Cyclops once. And it will be most important that we join forces with our former protectors as they battle the most frightening villain they have all had yet to face: the resume.

Hot Diggity (Dog Ziggity Boom)

The lyrics to Al Hoffman and Dick Manning's famous 1956 ditty:

(Note: If you're searching for Blackstreet's "No Diggity", please redirect yourself.)

Oh, hot diggity, dog ziggity, boom what you do to me
It's so new to me, what you do to me
Hot diggity, dog ziggity, boom what you do to me
When you're holding me tight

Never dreamed anybody could kiss thattaway
Bring me bliss thattaway, what a kiss thattaway
What a wonderful feelin' to feel thattaway
Tell me where have you been all my life

Oh, hot diggity, dog ziggity, boom what you do to me
It's so new to me, what you do to me
Hot diggity, dog ziggity, boom what you do to me
When you're holding me tight

Never knew that my heart could go "zing" thattaway
Ting-a-ling thattaway, make me sing thattaway
Said "goodbye" to my troubles, they went thattaway
Ever since you came into my life

Oh, hot diggity, dog ziggit,y boom what you do to me
It's so new to me, what you do to me
Hot diggity, dog ziggity, boom what you do to me
When you're holding me tight

There's a cute little cottage for two thattaway
Skies are blue thattaway, dreams come true thattaway
If you say I can share it with you thattaway
I'll be happy the rest of my life

Hot dog!!

A Letter to Stephen Spielberg and George Lucas, Re: New Indiana Jones Film

Dear Steve and George (if I may),

I recently attended a midnight release of your latest endeavor, and highly anticipated addendum to the legendary saga of one, Dr. Henry "Indiana" Jones, Jr., Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I must say, this newest installment of the epic story of a "part-time" (your words, via Indiana Jones, played by Harrison Ford) archeology professor did not disappoint in the way of an entertaining blockbuster. That said, I find myself with several qualms regarding the film.

It is my (educated) feeling that the newest of the Indiana Jones films (now a four film saga) did not reflect well on the preceding episodes in the life of Dr. Jones. IJATKOTCS (I call it for short) lacked the cinematographic inspiration, existential questioning, and all around artistic vision that so aptly defines the previous films. While in Raiders of the Lost Ark our hero, Indy, goes through thick and thin to obtain the coveted Ark of the Covenant, a deeply significant artifact that plays a crucial part in the redemptive historical acts of a Judeo-Christian God. I mean, angels sit atop the ark; angels, a symbol of divine help, especially as it relates to helping underdog baseball teams come from behind to win the pennant (cf. Angels in the Outfield). No doubt this clear semiotic "shout-out" was to the people of America, telling them to hold tight and know that divine outfielders are on the way. Truly, a mark of genius on the part of director and story writer/producer/film editor alike. That's a story people can relate to. That's a symbol that everybody recognizes. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom also hits home some deeply important themes. The first of which is that smaller people of a different race deserve to be treated differently and given nicknames like "Short Round." Indy blazes this trail by, appropriately, getting annoyed at SR's relentless "Docta J-oh-nz"-ing him. The implications of this in a post-9/11 society are quite eerily apropos. Another lesson learned is that Indian voodoo masters are a lot like scorned women - they try to tear your heart out - and the proper way to deal with them (the women) is to kill them before they kill you. And, again, you guys delivered with Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Seriously. A work of sheer and utter cinematic genius. Truly, this is the Holy Grail of all movies. At least of all movies dealing directly with the Holy Grail (with the possible exception of Monty Python's film dealing with said Grail). Where else than in this world can you combine the stylings of James Bond and Han Solo? Visionary. And who doesn't hate the Nazis (this a joke that only us total Indy buffs will get. Am I right?!) Having realized that the paganism route can only get you so far (gutted), you guys returned to Christian lore, which was a good movie in securing the Christian vote for "Movie of the Millennium" (until the title was passed on in a tie to Mel Gibson's The Passion and Andrew Adamson's The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe). Truly, by the third movie, you two had hit a stride, having finally gotten over that awkward hump of you guys getting used to each other. You felt it, America felt it, we all loved it. So now, I come to the next part of this letter.

I just have so many questions. Not least of which is: "Why?" Secondly: "Really?" After everything we had all been through with the last three movies. We just all had to move on, putting Dr. Henry Jones, Sr. and Marcus Brody behind us and look to the future next to the guy from Transformers. He played with giant toys, for the love of God. How am I supposed to take him seriously in his role as the dreamy renegade, Mutt Williams, especially when at one point when he makes friends with monkeys and subsequently swings from trees (which, by the way, was fairly impressive to me as monkeys can prove quite unruly in front of a camera. Well done.)? This question demands an answer. And who will give it to me? Will you? If so, buckle your seatbelts because I have a few more questions I need to put out there.

Why the title? It's practically novel length.

Why does Cate Blanchett crushing a manivorous ant between her legs turn me on?

Who are these aliens, and where did they come from?

Did bringing aliens into the story seem like the natural step to linking theStar Wars Trilogy and the other Star Wars Trilogy with the Indy films, not to mention Close Encounters, A.I., and Saving Private Ryan?

Regarding the aforementioned aliens, are they judges of good and evil?

Was Shia LaBeouf's line, "Oh, s**t!" supposed to be a veiled reference to the possibility of a fifth Indy flick (fingers crossed for six)?

Why am I still turned on by Cate Blanchett's insecticide?

Do Russians really sound like that?

What happened to the Christian lore? We had such a good thing going there.

Do the powers that govern the world Indy inhabits continually exist in a state of flux or is Indy's truth not Truth but merely his perception of It which remains indisputably true (for him)?

How did you guys get in touch with Janitor from NBC's (now ABC's) Scrubs? He really lent to your credibility as filmmakers.

Have you guys ever bathed together (this is just a fan question. Nothing really to do with the movie)?

Anyways, S-dawg and G (if I may), I look forward to hearing back from you guys regarding the numerous concerns (as well as appraisals) I have heretofore enumerated. You don't need me to say it, but as always, you guys are the best.

As usual, we'll be having a July 4th block party and, again, as always, you guys are invited. Maybe this year we'll see you! Haha. I kid. But seriously, my wife's red, white, and blue latkes are to die for.

Mazel tov!

More Clothes Need To Come Off

Let's all just take a moment to sit down and face the facts:

1) It's winter.

2) And we are all wearing WAY too many clothes.

It's that time of year where everyone is breaking up, people are getting tired of being stuck inside and looking at the thermometer that reads "24 degrees fahrenheit" knowing that between now and March in can only get - you guessed it - colder, and for those who live below the Mason-Dixon line, Christmas will be tepid at worst.

"Damn," you may say. And rightly so. I'm sure we can all think of things that we would rather endure than the seemingly never-ending pangs of wintery Chicagoland, including, but not limited to, the eternal torments of the fiery lake itself (God save us all). Of course, it seems needless to say that it's not just the cold that's getting us down. We're all watching those yuletide movies that get us so "pumped" for the holiday festivities of the year. Let's take a moment and examine some of these films.

A Charlie Brown Christmas - a great holiday flick...if you like the message of Christmas mixed with one part existential introspection and two parts suicidal appeal.

Love Actually - a fantastic movie to watch when you want to be reminded that you have no one to snuggle up next to while you watch a man fall for his best friend's wife and subsequently observe Alan Rickman's marriage fall apart. A real spirit lifter.

A Christmas Story - the moral of which is this: if you get what you want for Christmas, you may, no, WILL shoot your eye out. There's scientific proof.

A Muppet Christmas Carol - terrific. Everything works out. Of course, there's only two human characters in the whole thing, one of whom is a miser who lost his opportunity for true love after putting all his hopes into the races, the other of whom is a needlessly annoying alto with aspirations of sounding like Norah Jones but only sounds like a post-tracheotomy Marlboro man singing about how close he and Ebenezer came to being close. No thank you.

And the list goes on and on. My solution to this heart-wrenching time is not that we spend more time thinking about "The Reason for the Season," but that we all get off our asses and take off our clothes. Think about it. Who would be angry in a world full of naked folks? I know I wouldn't be. Hell, I would lead the way if I believed people would follow me - if I were alone, surely I would be committed for claiming to be Santa Claus and offering to show off my "Bag of Goodies." But seriously, we would all have a better time if drank less egg nog and just took off more clothes. This is why I, a humble devotee of this new holiday tradition, implore you to join me in my quest for naturalism. If we all take a moment and even think about the spiritual implications, it would be great. Let's be honest, I doubt Jesus was born WEARING swaddling clothes, certainly that was an after thought. If we all freed ourselves from the tyranny of materialism, and even material in general, we would all have a much more splendid time where caroling would probably lessen and snowball fights would come to have more long-term, damaging effects. So, dear friends, join me, and hear me when I say, more clothes need to come off.

For the love of God.

Please.

Yup. We're still here. [Bitches.]

Z: And our first question is: where's our money, man? You've ALL been ducking us for, oh, at least 4 months now, and We. Are. Tired. Of. This shit.

Seriously tired. Isn't that right, Christian?

C: So fucking tired.

Z: Seriously watch your language bro. The F-word? On our first blog entry together in months? Kinda crude man.

C: I'm sorry. It's just...you know...::starts sniffling::...it's been hard lately...that's what she said...::sniffle::

Z: Are you quietly weeping, cursing, and mumbling "that's what she said" simultaneously?

C: That's not exactly a conversation I feel prepared to have right now, Zachary. Please, let's move on. ::sniffle::

Z: Wow. You're right, brother. That's my bad on that one. Sometimes I get carried away with these "live" feeling blogs, you know dude? Wow wow. It's like, once you actually take a second and READ the words you're saying to another human being...Jeez. I really value you. I really do. Sometimes it becomes all about the readership and it's like, this friendship, this wonderful leaping of electrons between two human souls, the real shit,you know, the shit we do this for, the shit we breathe, that shit gets left behind man, and its just me talking to some puppet-Christian, when all I really want is the real man, the flesh-and-blood man I've come to love and know every inch of. Every inch.

C: Uh-huh. Oooh, where'd you get that whiskey? Is that...is that Jameson Irish? Oh, and that really tugged at my heart strings, seriously it did. Whiskey and Scrubs? That Zach Braff...he's a silly bitch.

Z: A)I drink more Scrubs than you watch in a day. B) Wow do I have a STORY about silly bitches! Ok. So this past Wednesday night me and a few guys-

C: --Wasn't I hanging out with you guys on Wednesday?

Z: are getting pretty toasted down at Curly's--

C: Yeah, no, I was definitely with you guys at Curlys.

Z: and this DUDE is just completelyyyyyyyyyyy WASTED! gone gone gone dude. so gone. and we're all raggin' on his ass 'cause he can't find his shoes 'cause we unlaced 'em and hid 'em in the car and

C: Dude. I was the DD. And you guys only took one shoe. I still haven't gotten it back.

Z: and get this get this, we start paddling him with one of the shoes

C: I still can't sit.

Z: and by the end of it, we're pouring whiskey down his shirt front, two guys holding him down, while "Pour Some Sugar on Me" is playing. Get it, we're basically interpreting the song's lyrics.

C: A cop gave me a DUI because I reeked of booze. My record is permanently tainted.

Z: Yeah. Yeah. Wish you were there bro.

C: I was. I'm the main character in this story. I drove all of you home. I called your parents. You humiliated me and hung me out to dry. And all you guys did was buy me a stupid shirt that said, "My friends stole my shoes, spanked me with one of them, then poured whiskey on me whilst an ironic song played-- ON SPRING BREAK!" My left foot is so cold.

Z: Uhuh. Wish you could have been there dude.

C: *sigh* Me too.

Z: Here's your shoe.

C: Terrific. Now I can finally stop wearing this Piggly-Wiggly bag to work every day. Not nearly as slip-resistant as you'd hope.

Z: Do you ever say anything interesting?

C: Ouch.

Z: I mean, seriously. In the time that you've been at my house, all you did was talk about how you took advantage of some guy at a bar. That's sick, bro.

C: I'm having a little bit of a Salvador Dali moment right now...

Z: I like his early shit.

C: Yeah, it's the best. It was really all downhill from the melty clock peice.

Z: Word. Whiskey?

C: No thanks. It makes me surly.

Z: Good. 'Cause I don't like it when you drink, dude. This was a test. I mean, remember last time you drank all the whiskey in the house? Hodge and I had to hide in the closet until you stopped asking for more ice cream...I've never been so terrified. You just kept making this scooping motion at my head. You really wanted it. Kudos.

C: Thanks.

[Long pause.]

Z: You will never love a woman who will see you and love you fully in return.

C: Yeah? Well...you'll never...um...climb...Mount...the...Eiffel Tower...bitch.

Z: Right. Well. You know what this means, then.

C: Of course.

Z: We always said, "If one of us ever threatens the others dream to climb/mount the Eiffel tower, we would duel each other to the death.

C: Aren't all duels to the death?

Z: Not in olden times. Their pistols often caused severe entry wounds, but small exit wounds, resulting in relatively slow deaths but quick recoveries if proper exterior medical care was provided, tertiary concerns really-- quite the opposite of today's firearms!

C: Fascinating!

Z: Yes--agreed. I'll meet you at midnight. Ak-47's?

C: No OddJob.

Z: Of course.

C: And I'll bring the S'mores stuff.

Z: Of course.

C: Your mom got Hot Pockets in the freezer?

Z: Think so.

C: Pepperoni Pizza?

Z: Those are the best.

C: I know!

Z: Man, now I really want one...How long do those take?

C: I think only a couple minutes if cooked on high.

Z: Thank God. I don't think I could wait much more than two minutes.

C: Yeah.

Z: Yeah...

C: Yep.

Z: Mhmm...

[Long pause.]

C: But seriously, Hot Pockets are just delicious.

Z: Agreed.

The Interview

Dearest readers,
It has been far too long since I have graced you with a post on this illustrious site, and for that I apologize. However, I have been exceedingly busy with such things as heartache, book writing, poetry creation, theater innovation, and dragon hunting/slaying/swimming lessons. However, I was recently interviewed by the ever laudable establishment of StartFrowning. They published the interview in their latest issue, so without further ado, enjoy this article. Next time, I swear I will have written something myself.

StartFrowning: So, Mr...

Christian: Whoa, Mr. Gonzalez is my father. Let's drop that, first of all. You can just refer to me as your Lord and Master.

SF: Ahh...

CG: Ha! Kidding.

SF: Right.

CG: Any way, so, I'll bet you're wondering why I called you and asked you here today.

SF: Actually, Christian...we called you. In fact, we've been calling you for since last April. It took you eight months to finally get back to us.

CG: I doubt that.

SF: You must be joking.

CG: Well.

SF: Never mind. Let's just get started, shall we?

CG: With what?

SF: The interview...

CG: Right.

SF: So. As I was saying, Christian, we have noticed that your name keeps appearing in different places, we were...

CG: What, like the sky?

SF: Uh...no.

CG: On the sides of buildings?

SF: It's a figure of speech.

CG: Oh.

SF: Yeah.

CG: I knew that.

SF: I'm sure. As I was...

CG: You don't think I knew that?

SF: (sigh) I believe that you knew that.

CG: Good. Because I did.

SF: Let's get on with it, shall we?

CG: I'm waiting for you, dude. My time is yours.

SF: Excellent. So, Christian, we were looking at last month's issue of "Uncanny Greatness" and could not help but notice that you had written an article for them entitled, and I quote, "The Art of Being Great." You then go on to enumerate the ways in which you yourself are terrific, however, you never actually got around to any bit of practical advice on how to attain such awesomeness...

CG: I had hoped you would ask that question.

SF: Um. I haven't asked a question yet.

CG: Yes, you did.

SF: No, I didn't.

CG: Yeah...

SF: Please. Christian, I have a tape recorder right here, would you like me to replay the tape to prove to you that I have not yet asked a question.

CG: No. I believe you.

SF: Good. So, now, here's my question: How does one actually attain such awesomeness? If you yourself have listed the various ways in which your greatness is manifest, how can the common person, such as myself, rise to your level?

CG: I'm sorry.

SF: You're sorry?

CG: Yeah. For before.

SF: What?

CG: I wasn't really listening and I was going to make up a response.

SF: I know. But, Christian, we're a little beyond that now.

CG: No, we aren't. We need to face it now...Give me your hands.

SF: What?!

CG: Just give them here.

SF: Please, don't touch me.

CG: Just for a little.

SF: No, stop it.

CG: Come on.

SF: Stop. Just stop it. Stop.

CG: Just for-

SF: Enough.

CG: Jus-

SF: No.

CG: ---fine.

SF: Thank you.

CG: Yeah...

SF: So, anyways. How do we attain such awesomeness?

CG: (silent)

SF: Christian?

CG: (silent)

SF: Please, Christian. Stop pouting.

CG: No.

SF: *sigh* Fine.

CG: I hate you.

SF: Good grief. This interview is over.

CG: No, I'm sorry!!!

SF: Christian...

CG: I'M SORRY!!!!!

SF: Get off the floor.

CG: I'M SO, SO SORRY!!!

SF: Stop hitting the ground. Get up. Stop it.

CG: AHHH!!

SF: Okay...I'm leaving.


Yep, so there you have it. Me in all my glory. I was pretty excited to see it in the magazine. Hope it was as enjoyable for you as it was ego-boosting for me!

PEACE!