I had a broken link up to the website, which is now fixed.

For more updates, go here.

Did I sell out?  Or have I just finally woken up?

Here.

Sorry we haven't posted in a while.  We're trying to get mentioned on that one blog about good excuses for not posting.

But... the good news is here!  Because we have finally put the website up, we can (and this is awesome) receive email that is written to ANY address as long as it ends in @drewpiston.com.  Holy crap, you say.  And holy crap is right -- so right that you can write to holycrap@drewpiston.com and it will get to us.

How cool is that?

Additionally, we have officially recognized one of our strengths: cooking frozen pizza.  We may not have been dealt the best hand when it came to legible handwriting or personal hygiene, but with pizza we don't even have to set a timer anymore.  We just cook by smell.

We believe, dear readers, that we owe you some goals.  Let's see... we had three people write in with a total of four goals (being loved, rush song whilst calving, rush song selection, and giving me a crossbow) and one compliment ("top-notch"). 

We'd like to award special recognition to: Tom, for posting under the name of "Drew Piston"; Bob for her amazingly effective compliment; and Gallagher for giving us two (2!) kudos.

So the total comes to three goals owed (one for each person):

1. Perform a citizen's arrest.
2. Be featured in an animated cartoon or video game.
3. Receive an honorary degree.

If one more person weighs in we will have to come up with a new one.  Oh, the suspense.

While drunk in the park, ladies, gentlemen, and everyone, we discovered a secret to happiness: always come up with a new dream before your current one fails.

Tut-tut, it looks like rain.

Well.  We are sorry to get your hopes up.  The exciting news is not ready for public consumption.  We're sorry.

But.

For now, we do have news:

We've got a new life goal!  That's right - number four on the list.  Our new life goal is to, sometime before death, fire a crossbow.

Sharing this, friends and neighbors, is no shallow gesture, and we hope you are duly awed and impressed.

Moreover, in an effort to further astound and stupefy you, we are offering a deal.  For every person who writes in to either a) put forth one of her/his own life goals or b) thoroughly compliment us on the originality and integrity of our intellect, we will reveal one more life goal.  In fact, we will even commit to making one more than we currently have.

If no one comments we will most likely go cry in the crawlspace.

Guess what?  We just ate five hot dogs.  Oof.

We just tried this new kind of ice cream.  New to us, we mean.  It's called Machi or Maki or Mariachi or something.  It's Japanese.

Anyway, the wonder of it is that it is handheld!  Can you believe that?  You don't even need a spoon!

We're going to have some very exciting news soon.  It isn't ready to be revealed yet (and no, I'm not pregnant), but we're trying to build the suspense.

A good idea for a shirt would be one that said "Wanna be in the lonelygirlpen15 club?"

But the point was that there is this kind of doughy substance around the ice cream that allows you to eat it with your fingers.  So it's kind of like a jelly doughnut, except instead of the doughnut there is that cold doughy substance and instead of the jelly there is the ice cream.  In this case it was mango ice cream. 

Also, it's significantly smaller than jelly doughnut.

So... new James Bond film, uh?  Our sister says that this guy is butt-ugly.

Sticking with the multimedia theme, here's some pictures of Tom on the job:

In this one he is cold:


In this one he is colder:

Here's a story I wrote at http://www.instituteofthefuture.org





It might have made more sense if it were bigger.  Huh.

We've decided to talk more about Hornblower, our fictional role model.  Basically, this why he is totally punk-rock:

1. He always knows the only thing to do to get out of seemingly impossible scenarios.
2. He has 20th century liberal views even though he lives in Britain during the Napoleonic wars.
3. If he heard punk-rock, he would totally like it as much as anything you ever heard those days.
4. Ok, that's about it.  But he's really cool.  Trust me.

We put up a "Moomin" poster in our cubicle and now we get to talk with all the young professionals about Finnish children's literature.  We think they are all very impressed.

Anyway, mostly by using Hornblower as role model we can look forward to depression, undeserved self-loathing, adultery, unbelievable luck, and multiple children, a reasonable percentage of whom will live past the age of seven.

Still, it's better than Sherlock Holmes and Sam Spade.

We don't go to concerts very often, friends and neighbors, but we did go to Ratatat the other night.

Words cannot describe. 

In other news, Kev-Co has suggested that we steer clear of lyric-driven waltzes, so we're experimenting with a Lucero-type cowpunk song.  It's going ok.  We've also injected poison into those tiny little pizzas that he eats all the goddam time.

Additionally, we would have posted yesterday but we were too busy giving blood.  It was awesome.  The guy was wearing those springy shoes and he kept complimenting our blood pressure.  Then he compared our veins to garden hoses.  It was pretty sweet.  Plus we got a doughnut (old-fashioned).

Next time we might give platelets, because then you get to watch a movie.  What movies do you think they steer clear of at the donation center?  Our guess is Trainspotting.  And Philadelphia.

You know what we've been listening to?  (And yes, we scorn those little menus down below where you get to choose your current mood from a drop down menu).  We've been listening to a Robbie Fulks song.  Anything for Love.  We think he wrote it, but we're not sure.  Supposedly he mostly does covers, but this has a Robbie Fulks feel about it, so maybe he wrote it. 
Anyway, it has some of the best lyrics that don't seem to make any sense.  And not that they don't make any sense in a New Pornographers kind of not make any sense.  Not make any sense in a Robbie Fulks kind of way.

Anyway, here's our favorite part:

down on the table her hair came tumbling
kids were casting in the dry breeze over the lake
you were on fire
it was nineteen-something
and she looked straight at you and said
stop talking about it!

(Don't get me wrong.  I like the New Pornographers.  And the way in which their lyrics don't make any sense.)

Have we ever mentioned that we were born in Idaho?  For some reason it has been a source of pride for us lately.  Maybe Napoleon Dynamite has something to do with it.

At any rate, we've decided that we really want a shirt that says Idaho on it.  And not one of those "Idaho?  No, YOU-da-ho" shirts.  Just "Idaho."

We'll add it to our wish list of mood rings, temporary tattoos, superpowers, hypercolor t-shirts, and a space shuttle.

Do you all think that Clint Eastwood is conservative or liberal?  We think that he is conservative-- but sometimes, when he is alone, has nagging liberal thoughts.  Go ahead, Mr. Eastwood.  Embrace 'em.