Moving Day - Crap I Have Kept Over The Years Part IV: A New Hope

First of all, let me say that some of you didn't understand my last post. I never claimed that the picture represented all the crap I had in my junk drawer - that was just the minutia I decided to comment on. Trust me, there was a lot more, but I didn't think you would want to hear about partially used Chapstick tubes and business cards and broken remotes. No, you guys got only the really good stuff - like "collar stays" - and I cleared out everything else.

Still, you were inspired to comment, and in some cases you were even inspired to show your own junk drawers, like Gwen.

And then there was the email I got from Josh Pincus with the subject line "Why I can never move," and this attachment showing his "Disney Room":

He went on to say that when his son was younger, "he would visit other people's houses and ask to see their Disney room. He had one in his house, so he assumed everyone had one." Dammit, I laughed most of the afternoon at that email just picturing his kids' disappointment. All of this weekend's Internet Points™ go to Josh Pincus.*

But back to business, this is the last of my "Moving Day" posts (hold for applause)!

More "random crap I have kept over the years" includes:


One (1) box of "Cap'n Crunch's Limited Edition Christmas Crunch" (2006):

My friend Matt and I have passed a box of Cap'N Crunch's "holiday blend" back and forth to each other like a traditional Christmas fruitcake over the years, and usually in a month like July when holiday merriment is at a dangerous low. Because we think we are ironic dorks.

The above picture is the second of the traditional packages, as the first box was retired after a decade of mishandling while being shipped back and forth between California and Illinois. Rest in pieces, Sweetened Corn & Oat Cereal in Holiday Shapes.**

Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars featuring The Joker

These were purchased back in 1989, when I wasn't too busy doing things like "dating" or "having a life." I still kind of like them, even though I haven't worn the shoes in decades.***

Creepy mannequin head and emo hair:

This may look like I am starting a weird shrine to Fallout Boy douchenozzle Pete Wentz, but it's just the wig I used last Halloween for my "Sabotage" costume. Feast your eyes on the (fake) Porn Star 'stache goodness!:



Pictured with me is of course my favorite person ever, The Girl. She turns another year older today (against her best wishes). And my gift to her is the fact that I'm moving in, so she can enjoy all of the crap I have kept over the years firsthand.

I'm nothing if not generous. Happy Birthday, Girl!

I'll return to The IHoB's regular posting schedule (which has never been anything close to regular) in a few days when the Interwebs providers find their way to me at my new location.


*Internet points are not redeemable anywhere. See stores for details.

**Fun Fact: I have never consumed so much as a spoonful of Cap'n Crunch in my life.

***In a 'it's a small world after all' kind o' way, looking at these shoes now, I can say that the Joker was possibly drawn by the late great Jim Aparo or Dick Giordano. And I am currently working on a project with Aparo's former collaborator Mike W. Barr. If you told Young McGone that way back in 1989, he would have called you a liar. Then he would have flipped his mullet in an extremely uncool way and walked away grinning.

Moving Day - Crap I Have Kept Over The Years III: Beyond Thunderdome

Last night I toasted George Carlin with Pete, and told him that, appropriately enough, the first of Mr. Carlin's acts I heard after learning of his death wasn't the famed "Seven Dirty Words" routine, but his Comic Relief routine about how your house is just a place for all your stuff.

"That's all your house is, it's a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get more stuff."

Truer words were hardly ever spoken. Just check out my junk drawer:


God Lord A'Mighty, that's alotta junk. And that's after the initial purging of Taco Bell Fire Sauce packets, local restaurant menus and eight (eight!) different Chicago/Illinois maps.

A. Sharpie Markers. Unremarkable except for the fact that this is the smallest grouping of Sharpie markers in my apartment after my computer desk and drafting table. I apparently put this batch away so people wouldn't think I was stalking the Sharpie Co.

B. Eyeglass repair kits. Despite the fact that at least one kit comes standard with any junk drawer, an apartment dweller usually purchases these out of desperation when they can't get to the other 2-3 kits sitting in the junk drawer at any given time, never to be used again past initial purchase.

C. Hockey Action Figures. One of the Hanson Brothers from the movie Slap Shot, and former Blackhawks goalie Eddie Belfour. I was serious when I said I was a big fan.

D. Batteries. One of 3 piles in the apartment.

E. Lighter/Matches. Ah, the smoking memorabilia. We had good times together didn't we, bad habit?

F. "Hello, My Name Is..." labels. In case a seminar broke out in my apartment. Always be vigilant for rampant Apartment Seminars.

G. Chopsticks. I've never used chopsticks.

H. Assorted screws, washers and a random Allen wrench. Because no junk drawer is complete without them.

I. Harmonica and Bottleneck for playing Slide Guitar. I play neither a.) the harmonica, nor b.) the guitar*. So kudos to the Guitar Center Clark Street sales staff for sealing these deals.

J. Buttons, and the plastic replacement tabs for collared shirts. These are the 7 pairs of tabs I bothered to throw in a drawer instead of the garbage. What are these things called anyway?

K. Pez Dispensers. Representing two important de facto Father Figures in my life: Spider-Man and Homer Simpson.

L. "Do Not Remove" Tag. Removed. Because I live on the edge.

M. Shoelaces. Sadly, this would have been 2-and-a-half-pairs, but I threw out the lone-partnerless-lace. You know... to spare it the shame.

N. "Assistant Asshole" Gum. Featuring Tricky Dick Cheney. Purchased by Drier and given to me a year ago at the Zach Galiafinakis show. Just a little something to elevate the junk drawer.


*I played the bass guitar. And that is my cross to bear.

Moving Day - Crap I Have Kept Over the Years, Part the Second

The only reason I still have a landline telephone at all is because my Interwebs Provider insisted that I needed one. The antique sits on the floor collecting dust and unanswered calls from the telemarketing rebels who ignore the Do Not Call register. Imagine my surprise then when I went through the caller ID today - for the first time in at least a year - and saw this (from last Independence Day, nonetheless):


Was that one of you guys calling for a ride? If so, I apologize.

enc is going to love this picture.

Moving Day - Crap I Have Kept Over The Years, Part 1

It's Moving Day here at the IHoB Head Office, and in lieu of actual posts, I will scan and/or photograph just some of the ridiculous crap I have kept over the years and hope that counts for something.

Earlier today I came across the photograph sleeve of an old wallet I had in college, still intact. I'm sure that if the wallet were still around it would have absolutely no money in it and a neglected condom that would have disintegrated to dust once it was reintroduced to oxygen.*

Among the business cards of people I forgot that I ever met, were:

An Ed Belfour Pro Set card.

I was a big fan of Blackhawks goaltender Eddie the Eagle. Dammit, I loved watching him play back in the day even if he frustrated the living crap out of me by skating to the blue line to challenge a skater. I dreamed that someday I would become a powerhouse like that magnificent chaos on skates, and that I could somehow channel the complex and elusive "ugly beauty" that was his style and legendary Bruins right winger Cam Neely's**, and become the Greatest Hockey Player Ever.

The only problem? I was lucky that I could stand up on skates, let alone skate at all.

Regardless, I was trying to be an ironic hipster doofus by carrying Belfour's card in my wallet. I only managed to nail the doofus part though.

My old video rental membership card

If any of you were planning on writing my biography, it's important to note that Dollar Video was my new release headquarters (as clearly stated on the front of the card), and that I was quite intoxicated and floppy haired when I accompanied a girl named Kris to rent "True Romance" for a viewing on Slinger's floor one night.

This is all very important. And yes, there will be a quiz later.

My second NIU Student ID

I really hate having my picture taken, as witnessed by every single sober picture I've taken outside of a Dekalb, Illinois video store. But my first student ID was truly a thing of beauty. Dare I say that it was on par with every flawless picture being taken by another notable Dekalb resident at that time. But alas, we shall never know if my boastful remarks are true to this day, as evidence of that most magnificent student ID are lost forever, another victim of the cruel cafeteria tray track in Grant Towers South.

This is the Second-And-Far-Inferior-ID. Of note:

A. I was a "student."
B. I really liked that parted-down-the-middle hair helmet thing after all those years.
C. Give it up, McGone... a.) no amount of Blue Steel posing is going to replicate the majesty of that first student ID. Especially because b.) you're wearing denim.
D. If you really must know, the blurred part reveals that my middle name is "Patrick." And that my first name is "Ishmael."
E. Remember the good ol' days when we haphazardly gave our social security numbers for everything? I better go back and check that I blurred that on the video rental ID.
F. Please take note that there is about a month and a half to go.
G. I didn't understand what this meant before I had a degree, and I sure don't know now.
H. Now that I found my old ID, The Girl and I will use these next weekend to see if we can get a discount at the movie theatre. I'll let you know how Operation Cheapass goes.


*Just kidding - I never carried a condom with me. I wasn't that delusional.

** Kick his ass, Sea Bass!

You're A Good Man, Charlie Blog

Sorry for the delay in anything new and/or interesting around here. I'll be moving this weekend, and pretty much next weekend too. Relax -- I'll probably post sometime next week... and it's not like I'm asking you to help me load up the truck or anything. Sheesh.

I know my Brotha-From-Anotha Mutha Slinger has a birthday this weekend, but what's up with you, blog-buddy?

An Open Letter to George Lucas (Movie Producer and Writer) from McGone (Movie Watcher and Enthusiast)

June 17, 2008

Dear George Lucas,

A funny thing happened to me at the movies one night. It was 1999, and I was seated in a packed theater with a bucket of popcorn and the hopeful thinking that the movie I was about to watch - "Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace" - would transport me back to my youth when a wide-eyed McGone gazed through his late 70s bowlcut and first saw your epic sci-fi classic, "Star Wars: A New Hope."

And then it happened. As the movie began its stretch towards the end, my breathing became short, my eyes began to tear up and my pulse began to quicken to the point where I thought my heart was going to pound right out of my chest. It was getting exciting now!

Yep... I was having an allergic reaction to the popcorn.

True story. Oh, wait. I'm sorry. Did I lead you to believe your movie was giving me those thrills? Ha ha... yeah, not so much. Not with Jar Jar Binks and his pseudo-racist jumblespeak, the wooden acting of an otherwise accomplished cast, and whatever the hell midichlorians are...

...look, really, you've already heard these arguments from far geekier than myself.

My point is that since that day I have never had so much as a kernel of movie theater popcorn. But I have given you a second chance. Hell, a third even (although this last time I waited for the DVD and may have even been drinking for most of it, and that still didn't help).

I have never been very supportive of your insistence on producing a fourth Indiana Jones movie, but I'll admit... when that trailer for "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" came out this past February and we got the shot of a silhouetted Dr. Jones putting that fedora on his head, I giggled. Out loud even. Amongst other people.

I said, "Son of a bitch, they might just pull this off after all. Despite that stupid title."

But you sure didn't, did you?

Did I hate it? Not at all. The action standards were there, most of the callbacks to the previous movies were fun, and I really enjoyed watching Indy in the Cold War era during the first half of the movie. Also, perhaps for the first time ever I thought "Sweet Fancy Moses, Cate Blanchett is freaking hot."

But ultimately I left terribly disappointed. Despite everything that worked, I still gotta go with "FAIL," and it felt like your ego caused that.

Why am I just blaming you, George? Why not director Steven Spielberg? Well he's not exactly off the hook either, but I tend to cut him some slack because his career in the past 20 years has had both creative peaks and valleys.

Why not star Harrison Ford? Because he totally nailed it. The age thing was never a factor. Hell, I had to remind myself he was 65-years-old most of the time I was watching.

Why not costar/Jar Jar stand-in Shia LaBeouf? Because he's got enough to deal with just being Shia LaBeouf.

No Lucas, I'm going to lay the blame squarely on you because the reason this movie didn't get made until Ford was a card-carrying AARP member was because you were holding out for just the right script. And yet nineteen years later, this was the one you went with. The one that said "Story by George Lucas and Jeff Nathanson."

As my friend Rider put it, this movie had plenty but it was missing "the magic" that the original "Raiders of the Lost Ark" had. And since you have produced magic in the past but spent so much time lately showing us how the man behind the curtains gets the job done, it's hard to just get swept away by the adventure.

When Ford utters the line "I've got a bad feeling about this" - that famous bon mot that has been repeated in all six Star Wars films - I actually thought "Well, now he's just rubbing it our faces."

Fool me once, shame on you, George.
Fool me twice, shame on me.
Fool me three times, um, shame on me some more.
But fool me four times and I will write an angry open letter on a personal blog you'll never read anyway, but it will make me feel better to let my freak flag fly. So... yer burnt!

Sincerely,
McGone
Founder and CEO of The International House of Blogcakes.

In The Name of The Father, And The Son, And The Hurried BlogPost

It's somewhat appropriate to me that the new Hulk movie is opening on Father's Day Weekend, because - as I have previously noted - I was a weird delusional kid* who truly believed my dad was the Hulk when I was growing up. That's him on the right, pre-McGone (and possibly Older-Brother-o'-McGone).

My oddly-askew perceptions most likely come from him anyway, because by looking at that picture I just know he's thinking to himself "All right, Joe... you're Steve McQueen in Bullitt. Just hold that pose."

My dad passed away on Good Friday two years ago, and I misplaced the post-it note on my fridge reminding me that I'm not getting any younger and have so far failed to spread my own seed. So as we in the States head into the holiday weekend, I would like to make note of some of the other dads on my blogroll...

...like Grant Miller, of Grant Miller Media, father of two girls who may or may not be named Girl Grant Miller and Other Girl Grant Miller.

...and Josh Pincus of Josh Pincus is Crying, who most likely really did name his son Captain Wow.

...and there's Splotchy, who is raising the next generation of bloggers who stage action-figure picture scenarios at a very advanced blogger level...

...also, my fellow artist-pal Kojo, who figured "Why not just eliminate sleep altogether and have 3 kids?" That's why he hasn't posted since April.

...of course, there's Skyler's Dad -- his credentials are right there in his screen name! And despite his dad duties, he somehow manages to find time to scour through every last inch of You Tube.

...and I have to give a special shout-out to the recently-returned-to-blogging and best-pal-o'-The-IHoB Slinger, who happens to have three of the cutest kids I know and is also truly blessed to have me as Godfather to two of them. I'm not at all bitter that you broke up my Godfather Hat Trick with the last one. Whatever.

Finally, I'll give a shout-out to my buddy Drier. He is also no longer with us, but that's just because he was unjustly fired for blogging awhile back and fell off the grid. (Updated to say: Nuh-uh! The Best o' Drier is right here!) Before that unfortunate incident his stories about his Old Man were some of My Favorite Things Ever. Somehow he managed to find the impossible balance of "wild irreverence" and "fond nostalgia" in his stories. I still hold out hope that he turns it all into a book someday. I'll buy two copies.

Happy Dad's Day to all of you.


*In my never ending lifequest to revolutionize the art of the blog footnote, I now offer pictures along with the astericks. On the left is a picture of me as a kid with what I knew to be an imposter Spider-Man - because of course, I was Spider-Man.

The imposter's horrible costume and the open van door just scream "Oh My God, that homeless guy is kidnapping that adorable kid!" but don't you worry... I was OK.

Hogstage Crisis - All Things Must Come To An End

Since Fernando von Bakonstein has gone missing, many have answered the call and lent their support. Some have even gone above and beyond in the search for the missing swine, and as the situation turns dire let's take a moment and celebrate the heroes*...

...like Eric Rider from Rider's Block.

The unemployed writer has taken his faithful companion Boxter on a nationwide search for Fernando as detailed on this map that is "measured in the number of Targets and Paneras" the heroic pair passed and "ate free lemons in and/or sink-bathed in."



...and kudos to lifelong friend of The IHoB BPDP, a.k.a. Brain. This may or may not be his high school senior picture, I can't remember.


Brain recently took a business trip to Long Beach, CA and as he does on many business trips, he left the hotel lobby computer on the IHoB (specifically Fernando's missing poster).


And then he started taking pictures of girls playing beach volleyball, because, you know... California. And really, can you blame him?




...then there is my Uncle Tom. He was there with me when I received Fernando last Christmas, and he had his own little bundle of pork joy as well.

(I'm the drunk one in focus on the left).



The pair recently took a trip overseas to Thailand to search for Fernando in The Land of Smiles. Because when you think about it, the damn pig has already been to Amsterdam and London and freakin' Paris and why shouldn't this search-and-rescue mission get international? I mean, I'm lucky if I get to Wal-Mart, but the pig... well, the damned pig has a passport and frequent flyer miles.

Anyway...

Employing the help of the locals (both the elephant and the guy riding it), Uncle Tom and Moo Pig** searched high and low. And this being Thailand that we're talking about, let's all be thankful that there isn't visual documentation of "low" here on The IHoB.


After an initial lookee-loo, they slammed some Singha and called it a day. They remind me so much of Fernando and myself that way. We truly are all related.



But now it might be time for me to take the high road and consider Fernando gone for good. A ransom demand was made by those shifty Pork Liberation Front punks, but I stood my ground Mel Gibson-like. I refused to give in. I called the pork bluff.



I didn't really think they would go through their threats.

Good bye, Fernando. It's been a fun couple months with y-- did you hear that?

Is that--??



*Could someone in the back press play on the ol' boombox? Boys II Men's "End of the Road" playing in the background would really fit this scene quite nicely.

**"Moo" translates to "pig" in Thai, because... well, really why not? So, yes, the name is "Pig Pig."

Hogstage Crisis! Day 10! I Believe Pigs Can Fly!

If you were to have asked me just this afternoon how long the R. Kelly case has been going on, I would have sworn it was since around the time I was in second grade. I seem to remember regular updates about the "Bump n' Grind" singer facing child pornography charges coming in between "phonics" and "recess."

But it turns out that the case has only been going on since 2002 when a videotape surfaced that allegedly shows the singer allegedly having alleged sex with an alleged underage girl. Allegedly.*

And maybe this is only a big deal to those of us here in Chicagoland** who are bombarded with constant updates on the trial of the Windy City-born celebrity now that it has finally started. If you don't live in the area, you may need some help keeping track of all the players in the drama... like Chicago Sun-Times music critic Jim DeRogatis, who is (allegedly) the one that brought the incriminating videotape to the attention of the authorities in the first place.

What does any of this have to do with my missing pig? Is he Key Witness #89? No...

Blogroller enc's generous offer of $1.38 probably won't cover the ransom demand when it inevitably comes. I have taken on several extra jobs in hopes of raising the funds.

My latest "IHoB Kwik Kash Skeme©™" is the R. Kelly trading card series. Here's a sneak preview of a piece in progress:



Get your orders in early. These things will lose value. Quickly.



* Bet you thought I was going to say "allegedly" again here in the footnote, didn't you? I'm not that predictable. But seriously.... allegedly.

**and Jay Leno, who is finally running low on his surplus of Judge Ito zingers.

Hogstage Crisis! Days 8 & 9!

Throughout this entire Hogstage Crisis, I have been asked the same questions over and over again:

"How are you holding up, Champ?"
"Is the pig really kidnapped?"
"Need another round there, Pal?"
and
"Seriously, how old are you? You're talking about a tiny toy pig?"

To you all, I say, "Terrible. Yes. Of course. And everyone needs a hobby."

But I get asked one question above all:

"How Can I Help?"

Well, there are several options here. You could do nothing. Or you could choose to clear your name by selling out your fellow blogger, like Grant Miller.

Or, you could get proactive and search for the pig on your own like Eric Rider over at the Block.

I know other bloggers have "claimed" to be "searching" for Fernando to prove their "innocence," but really all those bloggers are doing is wasting my quotation mark budget for the month. And with gas prices the way they are, everything is more expensive these days.

So until then, can you help me put up a few flyers? And check under the barstools when it's last call... realistically he could be under there.


I thank you in advance.

Hogstage Crisis! Day... Oh My God - is it Day 7 already?

Lead suspect The Idea of Progress said he was going to rescue the pig, but for the love o' gawd what is taking him so long?*

"Progress" my ass!



*Kudos to Gwen for making me laugh with her comment on tIoP's post.

Hogstage Crisis! Days 5 & 6! Two-fer!

This weekend I was at Toys 'R' Us buying a gift for one of my godsons (a.k.a. second Son o' Slinger) when I heard a boy of about 4 years of age going absolutely out of his freakin' mind (as kids at Toys 'R' Us are apt to do) for the newest pop culture sensation...

"Iron Man! It's Iron Man! Mom! Mom! Iron Man! It's IRON MAN!"

And this is what he was pointing to:


Worst Sequel Ever.

It felt so good to laugh. Humor is so rare these days, what with my pig being caught in some horrifying hostage crisis.

The Idea of Progress is apparently mounting some rescue mission, but I have to wonder... why would a guy who declared "Blog War" on me rescue my mascot?