Internet History and Nick Swardson

Dear Readers,
I know many of you are badgering me because I have gone 11 days without a new post. However, let me remind you that Rome wasn't built in a day. Neither was St. Louis, the city that is a beacon of hope for the rest of society. Neither was the World as we know it...that took 6 days and a day of rest on the sabbath. Don't believe me? Ask the bible, and it's not like science has refuted that claim or anything. Also, I was in mourning. The amount of famous people who have died since my last post is eye opening. The King of Pop, the genius behind Oxi Clean, and the original star of Charlie's Angels have all passed away in the past week. I know many of you may be thinking that this comment is simply leading to some inappropriate joke that happens way too soon. Well, you are wrong because Thriller changed my life (even though I only heard it 3 hours ago), oxi clean helps keep my favorite nike apparell clean, and Farrah Fawcett is well...Farrah Fawcett. Kudos to all three of these legends, they will be missed...by many.

Internet History
let me remind all of you that as you're reading this post, your eyes are skimming and glazing through a piece of internet history. And not history like the Vietnam War or M. Night Shamaylan, things that seemed great at first but by now this country would rather have forgotten, but history like Constantine seeing that cross (and turning Christianity into the world's dominant religion...jackpot) or Michael Jordan hitting the game winning shot in the 1982 National Title game. In other words, the kind of history that is the launching pad for greatness, and will change the world in ways that can not yet be comprehended. You are reading something so popular, so devastating charming, so unbelievably well written, so suave and debonair that google could not help but to acknowledge it's existence. That's right, I have reached one of my life long goals and have gotten my blog onto the internet behemoth that is google. If you google "The Sack Artist" my blog will be the 3rd entry on the 1st page...and that's big time. By my calculations you have to have at least 1,000,000 hits on your site to make the first page of google. What are the 2 sites in front of me you ask? Well one is some gay art web page toting Dustin Olson's work titled "Fantastic in the Sack." Mr. Olson is obviously a true artist, and I am honored to share a google page with him and his erotic sculptures and paintings. Next is the urban dictionary page for "The Sack Artist," with just happens to link you to the urban dictionary definition for "brick ass" or "stacks of brick asses," another informative site that helps millions make it rain at their local strip club. My blog has even surpassed former NFL defensive player of the year and Dancing with the Stars contestant Jason Taylor, who has an article calling him "the prodigal sack artist" sitting at 4th...one spot behind me. Sorry Jason, I guess the internet users of the world are starting to listen to Bill Parcells, and quite frankly Jason they are not fans of your selfish ways...and like the Dolphins they might be better off without you.

Nick Swardson and the Sack Artist...a Match Made in Heaven?
My celebrity status continues to rise as paparazzi photographers hide in St. Louis bars with hopes of catching me and my famous friends drinking, living and loving. After kicking it with Stephen Jackson, which I describe in depth in my last post, I have decided to move from sports to entertainment as I continue to gain future Surreal Life cast members as best friends. My new buddy is none other then Mr. Nick Swardson, who is best known for roles in classic comedies like Grandma's Boy, Chuck & Larry and Don't Mess With the Zohan, and for his daily routine of snorting all the cocaine in the f'in world (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQUUqF9NESo). Here is my minute by minute account of the best night in my entire life

6:45 P.M.-Crack open a Bud Select, which happens to only contain 99 calories. This makes it more healthy and a better form of hydration then water

7:35 P.M.-6 Bud Selects deep as I watch Troy Bolton lead the East High Wildcats to a state title and land the lead in the Winter Musical...he is the best basketball/musician combo since Shaq released his sophomore album "Shaq Fu: Da Return."

8:18 P.M.-I have finished my 20 pack of Bud Selects as Disney Channel moves to its dance along version of High School Musical 2...so I settle in on the couch and break into a bottle of vodka

8:43 P.M.-I fall on my face as I attempt to listen to Ashley Tisdale's directions and dance along to "Work This Out" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYcp1QXtjq4)...it's too early to tell if this fall was due to my high level of intoxication, my complete lack of coordination, or my refusal to participate in company singing/dancing while I was selling shoes at Finish Line, leading to my inexperience in this common workplace practice.

9:29 P.M.-My friend Chris Beaty comes over and claims he is too manly to watch this generation's Grease. So what if the movie was made for 10-17 year old girls...Sponge Bob Square Pants was originally made for little kids not 40 year old gay males and Bob Wimmer, but they seem to like it. Open up your heart and your mind Chris

10:26 P.M.-My good friend, and SAI corporate board member, Charlie Schlafly drops me and Chris off at McGurks bar. I am a little nervous because last time I was at McGurks I was kicked out, supposedly for hitting on too many guys. I don't remember the incident that well, but I do know any male, gay or straight, would be flattered to be hit on by a 6'5", 300 lbs. offensive lineman who smelled like a mix of Whiskey and sweat. Also if my love for High School Musical and this "hitting on guys" incident has you questioning my sexuality I have one question for you...what took you so long? I've been questioning it at least since I saw Ryan Reynolds shirtless in Amityville Horror.

11:37 P.M.-There are maybe 10,000 people in this bar and I know none of them. Who should I talk to you...that group of hot, college aged girls giving me the eye at the outside bar? Hah, I know their plan, and if you think you can roofie the Sack Artist and take advantage of him when he's passed out well...well you probably could, I'm not really opposed to it. After Hangover roofies are all the rage

12:09 A.M.-I make friends with a former D3 football player from some school in Iowa, who buys me many shots. I thought this would be my best alcohol-based new friendship of the night...but it turns out it is just batting practice for what's coming up next

1:11 A.M.-Chris and I take a cab to another local St. Louis establishment, Talanayas karoke bar, but we have some trouble. The ride cost $16.75 and neither Chris or I have a dollar to our name. How do I pay? Well you know how things work on the street...just ask Julia Robert's character in Pretty Woman. If you don't have money, you can always use your dignity as currency (just ask any teenage girl who begs her extremely wealthy father to buy her a $1,200 Louie Vitton purse). It's too bad I spent all of it and officially now have less dignity then Sam Booman (St. Louis equivalent=Jay Leonard)

1:17 A.M.-I walk into Talanayas and see many high school friends who I am excited to catch up with.

1:21 A.M.-Someone tells me they see Nick Swardson over by the bar. I immediately ditch the boring people who have known me for years to hang out with the international icon. Come on, you like your state school where girls throw themselves at you simply because you are a man who can read, write and walk down the street without making people vomit...I get it. If you think I am the kind of guy who understands loyalty and will never walk out on his longtime friends for fame, money and women...well I guess you are wrong.

1:30 A.M.-I walk up to Nick and tell him he is my hero because he makes people laugh and is a true man who uses unbelievable amounts of drugs simply because it's awesome. I can tell...he is a fan of mine as well.

1:45 A.M.-Nick asks me if I want some shots. I tell him "they don't serve alcohol, but they do have shots...of wheatgrass." Nick responds with, "that's cool...if you want to be sober and vomit." Jokes are just so much funnier when they are unoriginal, instead being direct quotations from semi-financially successful comedies...I always say.

1:58 A.M.-Nick has bought us at least 6 shots, and is showing me pictures from his new movie. While Nick never tells me the name, I am later able to deduce (via wikipedia) that the pictures are from the set Born to be a Star, in which Nick plays a porn star. If anyone is cool enough to act like Ron Jeremy and have unemotional sex with super hot chicks, while making incredible eye contact with each of the 10 cameras shooting his every move...it's Nick Swardson.

2:09 A.M.-Nick tells me his best friend is Adam Sandler. I tell him I am good friends with Joe Davis...the former quarterback at Beloit College. He is more impressed with my famous friend then I am with his...no big deal.

2:14 A.M.-Nick confesses that he really is afraid of the sun like his character in Benchwarmers (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFr2mLg-aTI). Fortunately I am able to replace the light bulbs in the many disco balls around the bar with solar powered sun light. As soon as the sun light is turned on Nick runs into the bathroom screaming.

2:21 A.M.-Nick comes out of the bathroom and says he will go down on me for $9 and a shot of tequilia. I am about to turn him down when he calls "no homo," which means it's cool because it's not gay. He is pretty good...I guess he has had a lot of practice after playing Terry, the gay prostitute on Reno 911 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gnbUurXo2hA)

2:25 A.M.-Nick and I take the karaoke stage and do our best rendition of ebony and ivory...Nick takes the part of ebony because his character in Malibu's Most Wanted thought he was black (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSxb91dT_BI).

2:32 A.M.-Nick tells me he is getting wasted because he hates his day job...waiting tables at the new chain resturant "I F'ing Hate Mondays." Guess the service isn't too good...check out their commercial (http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/eab643de2f/ifh-mondays-from-nicholaus-goossen-nick-swardson-and-david-spade)

2:38 A.M.-Nick asks me if I do stand up...I told him I have made a total of 2 jokes in public, one of which was so unfunny even Joe Davis' dad was able to successfully tear it apart in front of a live audience. As Nick is leaving I ask him for his email, and he tells me it's fyou@hotmail.com. I guess we really are friends

2:39 A.M.-I black out

10:16 A.M.-I wake up in my bed with no memory of anything that happened after Nick left...including getting home. Did I get roofied? Probably, as I stated earlier Hangover has made roofies popular again. Roofie sales are up 120% since the movie came out. People even want to get roofied so they can forget everything from the night before during which them/their friends married a stripper, pulled out their own tooth, stole Mike Tyson's tiger, kidnapped a 5'1" gay Asian man, snorted cocaine with Carrot Top and got a bj from an elderly latino woman. Movies can make anything cool I guess.

Text Update and Big Ups
My current text score is +74 (56-inbox, 41 sent, 6 texts from females, 3 unresponded texts...all from the same person clearly bent on making me look like a giant douche). My facebook popularity score is not doing very well either. When I get bored I tend to facebook chat people in hopes of striking up a conversation that I will drag on until I am good and ready to let it end. If I facebook chat you, you better be ready to invest 3-4 hours and much of your intellectual capacity towards the conversation. Instead people have been choosing to ignore my facebook chats...like they have something better to do with their time.

Big Ups has to go to Nick Swardson for making my life and hopefully reading my blog when I email it to him. Also I have to congratulate three new employees of Sack Artist International

President of Employee Pensions/Funding of Casino Trips: Paddy Hadican
Director of Media Relations/PA announcer for SAI Cafeteria: Joe Davis
Director of Employee Insurance Plans: Adam Puls

Back next time with the beginning of "The Sack Artist sees America" series and some delicious ocean dwelling scrimps.

In Hoc,
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"

AT&T's plot, Steven Jackson and 1 Dangerous Mind

Dear Readers,
I know I ended my last post promised each and every one of you an update on the all you can eat scrimps's's (common name shrimps) night I was planning on having this week, but that didn't turn out to be the mega shell fish eat-a-thon I had in mind. It turns out hometown buffet only thought that it was appropriate to include one kind of scrimps in their "seafood night" buffet last Monday instead of all the varieties they promised me in this commercial (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLkNPjbaPTk), leaving me a little pissed and completely unsatisfied with the pounds of fried chicken, meatloaf, mashed potatoes and steak I was forced to eat instead. So I'll punt on that idea and revisit it at a later date. However, while I have all 7 of my reader's attention, let me take this opportunity to preach about a little company that is trying hard to ruin my life and leave me face down in a ditch with nothing, as a meth head humps my dead corpse...AT&T. I used to consider AT&T to be a great friend of mine...a company of principles and convictions, that employed my father for over 20 years, paying him a high enough salary to buy me such luxuries as a sega genesis. But, as I have found out in the last few weeks, that was the old AT&T, a company that cared about its employees and their fairly obese children's ability to play Sonic the Hedgehog for 14 hours a day. They encouraged my shut in ways, enabling my family to afford things like TV's, video games, doritos and mountain dew, things that sealed my fate as a 220 pound 10 year old who developed a severe case of heliophobia (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pTK3hp7yKU). I loved AT&T with all my heart, and they helped mold me into the lazy slob with an intense fear of the outside world that I am today...something I can never thank them enough for.

However, AT&T isn't the same compassionate corporate giant they were a decade ago. A lot has changed in the 10 years plus since the phone moguls and my father parted ways, and much of it has just become clear to me very recently. It all started when my family decided to switch from digital cable to AT&T U-Verse, leading to the now infamous installation of the DVR machine that ate the final 3 minutes and overtime of Game 4 of the Eastern Conferences Finals. If any of you have read my blog before you will know that that diabolical machine stole the stretch battle between the Cleveland LeBrons and the Orlando Magic from me, and also prevented me from seeing the unedited version of the Nike LeBron/Kobe puppet commercial that leaked during the game (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2HfXjAmeq40). However, as hurtful as this moment was, it was just the beginning of AT&T's assault on the Sack Artist. Last Saturday, as I awoke from a 5 hour nap, I opened my cellphone to see what was going on with the world. Instead of my phone flipping open normally and allowing me to use it, the phone decided it would be a better idea if the top portion just detached and fell to the ground, leaving my previously mint condition razor (the hottest phone on the streets baby) in 2 separate and inoperable halves. Who's my cell phone provider you ask...oh AT&T of course. This especially upset me because my phone had no excuse to break. At least when Eduardo's (my car) back door broke, it was a clear and justifiable sign of outrage at being covered in puke. However, I treated that phone like a king and unlike Eduardo it was not covered in any sort of bodily fluid...yet it betrayed me anyways. As if taking LeBron James and my cell phone away from me wasn't enough, AT&T has continued its assault on my way of life. There was a stretch today when I had about 6 hours to kill, so I plopped down in front of my 42" plasma envisioning a viewing feast of US Open Golf, Entourage and Home Improvement. Instead all I got was severe thunderstorms in Long Island, NY that not only delayed the first round of the US Open, but somehow also knocked my cable out some 900 miles away in St. Louis. What the hell am I supposed to do for 6 hours with no TV? Read a book? But there hasn't been a new Harry Potter out for like 3 years. Go outside? It's 105 degrees and that would involve me getting up off the couch. Sleep? I already do that 15 hours a day...how much more inactivity can my body take? Congrats AT&T you used to be my biggest supporter...and now you are ending my world as we know it.

Big Stevie Style
Last week was a pressure packed for me, so after I sowed up another classic piece of writing last Friday I decided it would be alright to go out with my friends and indulge in a couple of adult beverages. As many of you know, I was brought up never to drink alcohol (not even rum raisin ice cream), but since I am 21 now I figured a couple of St. Louis' finest couldn't really hurt. Besides, I know my limit, and as many of you can vouch for I never cross it and let the devil's liquor get the better of me. I have never blacked out. I have never sent drunk, demeaning texts to anyone. I have never attempted to make a 10 mile walk to taco bell because I was hungry and way too hammered to drive there. I have never taken a piss in a room full of people singing Good Night Saigon. I have never propositioned a gay man to return to my Panama City hotel room. I have never woken up on Jordan Ehlen's futon naked with no idea how I got there. These are the kinds of things that don't happen to me because I have a high sense of honor and a deep sense of personal responsibility. So anyways, me and 3 of my buddies snuggled up in a cozy booth of a Clayton bar, and within 6 Bud Selects me and Charlie Schlafly were in an intense argument about whether Kobe Doin' Work would have been better if Pau Gasol was recast for a more experience actor (I'm thinking Gheorghe Muresan...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b1qEBvPmI1s). However, our conversation was soon interrupted by a startling revelation...Steven Jackson himself was mere blocks away partying at another Clayton establishment. Hearing this I immediately ran out of the bar and sprinted towards Steve in hopes of catching a mere glimpse of the man destined to return the St. Louis Rams to Super Bowl glory.

Steven was drinking at a high-end Clayton establishment known as Cafe Napoli. This is not my kind of bar. I like men's bars where the Budweiser flows like fine wine and the whiskey is only mixed with regular Coke (not that Diet stuff...I'm pretty sure that contains nuclear waste). I like bars that show NBA playoff games instead of The Secret Life of the American Teenager, where cigar smoke fills the air and I get to live my dream of the Ultimate Dude's Night Out (http://www.comedycentral.com/videos/index.jhtml?videoId=24434). Cafe Napoli is the exact opposite kind of place. It's the kind of place where 40 year old dudes with greasy hair hang around 22 year old new college graduates, hoping their money and flashy clothes will help them find an unemployed chick looking for a couple of free cranberry and vodkas. Why my hero Steve Jackson is out at a place like this is beyond me...but I don't judge the NFL's most complete running back. Anyways the place was buzzing about Steven's presences, as the massive black man strolled through the outdoor patio like he owned the place, and he might as well have as far as I'm concerned. Everyone was afraid to talk to the man as he walked towards his Cadillac Escalade hybrid (see the guy even cares about the environment...and US car makers) when I yelled out "Steven you're my hero...I have your poster in my room (true story)." What happened next was one of the defining moments of my life...Steve turned and gave me a wave and a head nod. If that isn't an acknowledgement of greatness, I don't know what is. You are a true class act Steven, and I would follow you to the ends of the Earth...and the rest of the Rams will soon be following you to a Super Bowl title.

Big Ups and Text Scores
My current text score is +59 (37-inbox, 23-sent, 8 texts from females), which brings me to an interesting issue. If you are getting texts from a dude, but he is using a chicks phone, does that count as a female text. In my case it certainly does, that's why I have 8 texts from a female instead of 2. Also I have a new phone, which has caused several problems for me. First the only phone # saved to my sim card was Andy Reich...if that isn't the ultimate slap in the face I don't know what is. I have about 10 people's #'s at this point, so if you ever want me to speak to you again (or for the first time) I suggest a call or text with an identification.

Big Ups has to go to Steven Jackson first of all. Predicted 2009 stat line, 1,500 yards rushing, 2,200 total yards, 22 TDs and a 11-5 record and NFC West title for the St. Louis Rams. Also big ups have to go to the hired employees of Sack Artist International/admins of the facebook group. Here is our employee list right now

Board of Directors
CEO/President/Chairman of the Board of Directors: Zachary L. Poelker
CFO: Richard Charles "Richboy" Krajewski
Editor-in-Chief/Director of Grammar and Punctuation: Charles Kimball Schlafly
Director of Creative Control: Joseph Seidel

Regional Managers
Regional Manager St. Louis Office (Corporate Headquarters): Paul Alyosius Beuttenmueller
Regional Manager Southwest US/Tijuana Office: Dillon "Podunk" Deckert

There are plenty of positions available...so please apply today. Also I have received a total of 0 emails on possible discussion topics...if you would like to rectify that and prove your self-worth and loyalties to the blog please email me at poelkerz@gmail.com

Finally I would like to take this opportunity to plug a fellow member of the blogging community who has caught my eye. Sven Lyndon's new creation the Ubersapien has earned rave reviews for the blogging media, and I have to join. I have a dialogue going with Sven about possible collaborations, and outside of Mark Titus (who hasn't written an entry since May 29?) Sven is the best thing going on blogspot. If you are over 18 and can handle mature content, check him out at (http://theubersapien.blogspot.com) or join the facebook group erected in his honor. This week Sven is totally revolutioning the game of football...Vince Lombardi style

In Hoc,
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"

The Hangover and the Struggles of the Younger Generation

Dear Readers,
I am trying a new stratedgy towards blog writing that will hopefully revolutionize my writing, my social life and the entire internet. I am starting this blog at 12:19 P.M. on a Thursday afternoon, which is 12-14 hours earlier then usual. For those of you thinking "this won't change anything...you're still the same tool who sits alone in his parents basement and writes a blog that 9 people read," well I have news for you...this will change everything. The night is a very dark time for me, as it is for all bloggers (and everybody besides people in Alaska and guys with night vision goggles). We sit in the dark spending hours blogging our guts out about pretty meaningless and frivolous issues like the economic ramifications of GM's bankrupcy or the international fallout caused by North Korea's nuclear program. And these are the blogs that are well researched and thought out, while my blog is about shallow and fairly obvious observations about the people and world around me. How many bloggers are smooth with the chicks? How many bloggers have more then 2 friends? How many bloggers can sit in a crowded Buffalo Wild Wings and watch an NBA finals game without passing out because they have a more severe case of social anxiety then Zach Grienke? Besides myself, my hero Mark Titus, and former UNC legend Brendan Haywood (http://brendanhaywood.yardbarker.com/) there aren't too many bloggers out there who have those characteristics. That's why I am showing my fellow bloggers the light in this post...the light of day. I have become a dayblogger or the blogger version of Blade or a lesbian. I have all of a normal bloggers strengths (writing ability, incredible wit and an extremely large amount of free time I devote to writing words that may never be read) with none of their weaknesses (social anxiety...although I am pretty sure I am pretty anxious in most social situations). To my fellow internet writers here's a little tip...devote your afternoons to blogging and spend your nights on EHarmony trying to find a poor soul who can spend 10 minutes watching Battlestar Galatica with you...you'll be much happier, at least I am.

Kids These Days
I hate sounding like some sort of Walter Matheui esque grumpy old man, but kids these days just are not the same as they used to be. When I was a kid I was respectful and obedient to my elders. I never got in trouble (besides that time Wynton Witford punched me in the 6th grade and I somehow got suspended). I never talked back to my parents. I never lit off fireworks and TP'd anyones house. I never poked fun at the doofy kid who pissed his pants during our 4th grade science experiment. I never chastised a 6th grade social studies teacher for her incredible lack of knowledge on the Cold War. I never walked out of a St. Margaret of Scotland prayer service and yelled "this blows," to a group of nuns. I never stole my dad's cigars and smoked them every saturday night on the roof of my house. I never got caught by my grandmother explaining to my 8 year old cousin the scene in Road trip where Barry's grandfather has a boner and is showing the guys around his house. None of this ever happened because I was an honest and hardworking kid who was brought up the right way. I had a strong sense of right and wrong and wasn't afraid to let my conscience be my guide. I didn't have any of this high class technology like cellphones, the internet, or air conditioning because they weren't invented yet. Yeah I had basic cable, but there was no HBO and you can forget about Cinemax. I mean for a while I didn't even have ESPN 2. When I was bored my brother and I played basketball in the backyard for hours, until I realized I could never beat him and his endless taunting would end up in me getting the crap beat out of me everyday. This is the way kids were reared in the 1990's (and early 2000's) and it helped make me the man I am today, with his own internet web page.

But now a days everything is different. 4th graders are walking around school, talking on their Iphones like they're corporate executives. Middle schoolers devote their lives to myspace and facebook in a quest to become more popular. 6 year olds are becoming champions of games like Halo and Call of Duty, while at that age I was busy hitting bombs with Fred McGriff in MLB Baseball 1992 on my sega genises. Kids just don't have any respect for authority anymore. I was coaching football camp this week when a group of 5th graders wouldn't stop talking about farts as I was trying to teach them how to execute a perfect reach block. After a while I got so fed up with one young man I told him if he didn't shut up I was going to hold him down and fart in his face. How did this little 10 year old respond? By saying "I hope you didn't have beans for dinner....hahaha." I mean don't get me wrong, I was obsessed with farts as much as anyone at that young age, and I loved making jokes relating beans to human flatulence. But if a 300 pound, 21 year old told me he was going to fart in my face if I didn't shut up, I would be quiet as a mouse. I mean I would be like one of those Tibetan monks, I would never talk again. Kids these days also have no taste. Instead of watching classic Disney films like Aladdin, Beauty and the Beast and the Little Mermaid, they watch new fangled movies like Up while having no respect for their predecessors. That's just not right.

Hangover...The Greatest Ever?
Here is a quick warning before I get started, this next section contains spoilers and jokes from Hangover, so if you somehow haven't seen it I highly suggest you skip over this part and also reevaluate your priorities in life. Hangover is the story of 3 fellas (Phil, Stu and Allen) and their quest to discover their long lost friend Doug (the white one), and remember what happened to them the night of Doug's bachelor party. Forgetting what happens the night of a bachelor party and losing the groom? Simple enough. This is an event I hope has happened to every man over the age of 25, and hopefully I will be a part of this more then once. However, there are several elements in the film that make Hangover rise above the normal stripper laden bachelor party humor and push it into the elite of hilarity. First of all it takes place in my favorite place in the world...Las Vegas, Nevada. If you haven't been to Las Vegas you life has yet to become complete. It is the city where dreams come true, where blackjack and craps tables can rise you up to your highest level of elation. It is the place where Wayne Newton's voice gently serenades you as you wine and dine with the biggest closet coke heads the business world has to offer. It is the place where 62 year old men are seen with 22 year old women, and it is assumed they are husband and wife instead of father and daughter. It is the place where lights guide you through a 1 mile strip of road that includes such recognizable wonders of the world as Eiffel tower, the space needle and the pyramids of Egypt. Basically Las Vegas encompasses the best of the best you could discover while traveling throughout the entire world, and fits it into 12 casinos that are all within 2 miles of each other.

Another thing that pushes Hangover into the creme de la creme of modern comedy is the film's inclusion of every possible thing that interests me. Every regular reader knows the passion that I have for casinos, especially the ones in Vegas. The casinos in Vegas aren't the same as those run by Indian tribes in the boothills of Wisconsin, but instead shrines built for people with intense gambling problems that force them to lose massive quantities of their income (like me). Vegas casinos are the only places in the world where you can feel like a high roller whether you are gambling 25 cents a clip at the slot machines or dropping $500 bets with Marc Bulger at the blackjack table, probably because of the free drinks, cigarettes, ham sandwiches and ballpoint pens that are handed out like candy on halloween. Throw in a Rain Man/21 gambling montage, Mike Tyson and his tiger, Heather Graham breast feeding and Andy Bernard losing a tooth, and you have a classic comedy that I feel was written for the express purposes of satisfying my cinematic needs. Finally throw in comedy trio of Bradley Cooper (Sack Lodge/Phil), Ed Helms (Andy Bernard/Stu), and Zach Galifiankis and you have wittiest set of triplets in a movie since Vince Vaughn, Will Ferrell and Luke Wilson redefined comedy in Old School. However, The Hangover has a subtly that even a classic film like Old School lacks, which almost enhances every punchline. Despite the outlandish plot twists, the characters don't try as hard to be something they are not as their Old School counterparts, and play their respective roles to perfection. As crazy as Allen is, he has a genuine understanding of his respective shitstorm that Frank the Tank lacks. As sarcastic an asshole as Phil may play, he has a real concern for his situation that Beanie doesn't. As worried and bitchy as Stu becomes, he gladly pours over his savings to help get the group out of its troubles, a step you feel like Mitch would fight in Old School. I am not saying The Hangover surpasses arguably the defining comedy of my generation in Old School, but it seems more realistic and even understated, and that helps the film find its niche in the great comedies of the past decade.

Text Updates and Big Ups
I will keep this short and sweet due to the gigantic length of this post. My current text score is +83 (64-inbox, 46-sent, 1 from a female). For those of you who have sent me texts strictly to improve my score, you may be expecting me to tell you to stop because I hate pity texts and they are an insult to my dignity. However, that statement could not be more untrue. I want your pity...and more importantly I need it. If you want to send me a text for the sole reason of improving my text message score, please feel free. If you want to treat me like the smelly kid in 3rd grade and hang out with me simply because I have no friends and you'll feel better about yourself if befriend a complete loser...that would also be awesome.

I have a couple of special big ups to extend in this edition. First goes to my main man Paddy Cakes for telling me how the little girls in his soccer camp booed him for referencing the Disney classic The Little Mermaid, claiming that current animated films like Up are vastly superior. The second one goes to Laura Toth, a Beloit College student I have never met. Despite me never once speaking to her, or knowing her at all, she has become an avid follower of the blog and wrote some great encouraging words on my facebook wall. Congrats Laura, you are a true fan of this important form of media and have honored yourself, your family, the Beloit College community and technology as a whole by your acceptance of this internet phenom.

Finally I am starting two new contests. First, I am selecting administrators in the Sack Artist facebook group so, if you're interested, please submit your application via facebook, text or email. Secondly, if you have a question for the Sack Artist or a possible topic of discussion please email me at poelkerz@gmail.com or send me a facebook message. Hopefully I get at least one reply. Finally check out the website that has changed my life and my basketball abilities (http://www.getyourbasketballon.com/dvd/)

Back soon with all you can eat scrimps's's

In Hoc,
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"



Another

Drunk on Facebook and Locked in a Squash Court

Dear Readers,
sorry I have been away for so long, but I've been tied up in more then one way (you will read about them later). But first I have to admit something to all of you because you are my closest friends in the world and the only people who care about me. I am addicted...and not to one of the normal vices that consumed Robert Downey Jr. for the latter part of the 20th century. It's not heroin, cocaine, alcohol, gambling, sex or tobacco (hah told you guys I did not participate in any of these activities...wait why am I proud of that statement?). I have kicked my habit of smoking crack and staying up all night shaking and watching the Basketball Diaries so I could feel like less of a junkie. So what am I hooked on you ask? Facebook. That's right the cute little website that has gotten teenage girls obsessed with their ability to talk to each about Gossip Girl via the internet (wait I wrote on Tess Jacquez's facebook wall for the sole purpose of discussing the Gossip Girl season finale...god damn it). Due to my lack of job, money, activities, or social skills I have spent the better part of this summer stalking 484 people through Al Gore's internet machine. I have spent more time on facebook in the last week then I have in the rest of my college career combined. Don't get me wrong, I always checked my account and used facebook to grow my blog following past the double century mark (225 people...more then have watched PBS in the past decade), but I was more likely to eat a salad then write on some body's wall unprompted (I had a salad with my dinner tonight and I was underwhelmed...let's be honest it's just a bowl of leaves). However, lately my facebook usage has gotten completely out of control. I have written on Matt Davis wall 127 times simply quoting lyrics for the Diddy Bop (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DyAG_8jFNI). I've communicated with Nicole Oddo's via facebook on at least 84 occasions. Michael Kovach's wall=2 posts. Don't get me wrong, these people are my friends (for the most part) but there have been more then one instance where I've walked past them at school without acknowledging their presence or lied to them about my plans so I could spend my night watching a Gangland marathon instead of hanging out with them. Reading my facebook wall posts is a lot like watching the Movie Borat. My first post (or the first viewing of Borat) leaves you falling on the floor laughing and wishing you were as creative as Sacha Baron Cohen. After the second post/viewing you are giggling thinking this guy is pretty funny and you wouldn't mind splitting a Starbucks coffee and a bag of sunflower seeds with him on a Sunday morning. By the 3rd or 4th post/viewing you are ready to drop a nuclear bomb on the country of Kazakhstan (or my house) to make the entire movie and character socially irrelevant so you don't have to listen to some douche say "I Like You" in a terrible impersonation 450 times an hour (that impersonation loser just happened to be me 2 years ago). Just be thankful Jeff McLaughlin doesn't have a facebook page so you don't have to see me quote Old Gregg on his wall every 15 minutes on your facebook feed (please tell me you've seen this video because it changed my life). Why did I do all this...because facebook is the only legitimate way to keep yourself socially relevant. Once you write on some one's wall they have to read it, acknowledge your existence, and read what's on your mind. Anyways, I've decided to chew some nicorette gum to see if it can help keep me off facebook for a while...so we'll see how that goes.

Trapped in a Squash court
For those of you who are wondering what squash is, it is some sort of game that you play with a tennis racket and a croquet ball, slightly different then Jai Lai which is played by the most interesting man in the world (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2SSZA0CjdQ). Anyways I was chasing a bunny rabbit who happened to sneak into the St. Louis Priory gym the other day, and this Bugs Bunny wannabe happened to outsmart me getting me to chase him into the squash court before running out of the room, closing the door and locking me in. The ensuing post is an exact replica of the captain's log I recorded while leading the squash court through space like it was the US Enterprise.

6:03 P.M.-Jesus that bunny is fast and smart...he is the exact opposite of me

6:15 P.M.-The Bunny found a way to turn the lights on in the squash court, despite his lack of opposable thumbs, turning it into a wooden sweat box

6:23 P.M.-I am banging on the door screaming for help...at least 15 people walk by and decide they would be better people if they ignored me and left me stranded

6:38 P.M.-I try to punch a hole through the little plexi glass window on the door...somehow I completely miss and smash my hand against the stone door. My now fractured hand will limit my activity choices severely (oh get your head out of the gutter...my 9 year old cousin reads this thing)

6:47 P.M.-I decide to take my shirt off to wrap it around my other hand to attempt another ultimate punch through the plexi glass. I now have two broken hands, a bloody shirt and have lost a massive amount of weight due to this 82 degree heat.

6:59 P.M.-A group of super hot chicks walk by the court, and see me shirtless. Obviously they desperately want to come in there with me, but they can't figure out how to work the door. Is this a desert mirage type of effect in less then an hour of mild summer heat?

7:11 P.M.-We have a problem I need to use the bathroom...and the dumb ass architect of this squash court forgot to include one in his design. This guy is no Frank Lloyd Wright

7:19 P.M.-I haven't eaten in 4 hours and am very close to dying of starvation

7:26 P.M.-I see something 100 times better then a group of hot chicks...a 42 ounce porterhouse steak and a twice baked potato appear in the corner of the court. Another mirage, man this phenomenon happens quicker then I thought

7:38 P.M.-I find some athletic equipment in a closet. Included is a plyo box, which I quickly use to build a protective shelter. If I had a camera this would make an amazing episode of Survivor Man.

7:54 P.M.-I have started a whole new society in the squash court. A tennis racket will serve as my best friend and chief council. I name him Dunlap because I am as creative as Tom Hanks in Castaway.

7:59 P.M.-I hear a giant boom outside of the court. I am pretty sure it's a nuclear attack, but luckily I am hold up in this nuclear shelter. I will restart society with Dunlap and rebuild St. Louis from the ground up.

8:06 P.M.-The thermometer now reads 84.5 degrees...the heat is unbearable

8:08 P.M.-This heat has caused me to lose so much weight so I could now be a jockey in the Kentucky Derby

8:09 P.M.-I Pass out

11:58 P.M.-Wake up in Barnes-Jewish hospital badly sunburned and with 15 IV's of whiskey pumping through my veins (everyone knows whiskey is the best way to hydrate)

Big Ups and Text Update
My text messaging score is now at +52 (48-inbox, 44-sent, 0 texts from females...God I've got game). Why this update may leave you thinking my text life is dull and unsatisfying, I am pretty sure it's never been better. Me and my good friend Chris Beaty had the greatest text conversation of all time. We had a 30 text convo (between us) that was comprised strictly of quotes from Meet the Parents, including a complete line by line reenactment of the pool scene where Greg Focker spikes the volleyball directly into Deb's face (Jesus Christ Focker it's just a game). How do I know so many lines from meet the parents? Well let's just say I spent 3 days this winter locked in Rich Krajewski's room watching the HBO Ben Stiller/Owen Wilson underrated comedy channel. Included in my viewing pleasure (along with Meet the Parents) were film classics like You, Me and Dupree, Night at the Museum, Heartbreak Kid, Starsky and Hutch and Drillbit Taylor. These were arguably the greatest 3 days of my life (not only because of the films...I obviously took various naps in Rick's queen sized bed). My facebook popularity score is obviously hurting due to my 256 unreplied to wall posts. There are at least 9 people out there (don't want to name names), who would rather watch the movie College then speak/facebook me ever again. And I am pretty sure watching the movie College was a form of torture the Nazis used in World War II.

Big Ups has to go to Chris for his incredible knowledge of Ben Stiller movie quotes. Also, I got to give it to Richboy for moving in with Joe Davis' girlfriend Libby. I can't wait to leave college next year (notice I didn't say graduate because that will take at least another 4/5 years...insert appropriate Tommy Boy quote here), just so I can move in with Rich and Libby and we can replicate that TV show 2 guys and a girl...and I get to be Ryan Reynolds. Finally Conan O'Brien just told me that a company is coming out with a Bacon Flavored Vodka. I am not sure if it is a food or a drink...but either way I'm interested.

Back next week with my review of the most anticipated movie ever...Hangover

In Hoc,
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"