#1 on Google and The Sack Artist Sees America...Part Deux

Dear Readers,
as all 6 of you who have read my facebook status know, my blog has recently reached another milestone that cements its legacy as one of the best pieces of internet writing ever conceived. That's right if you google "The Sack Artist" my blog will be the first site on the first page. That's right, all of my wildest dreams have come true. All I had when I started this blog was a computer, a slightly disturbed train of thought and a dream. This blog has grown from its small time mom and pop roots and become a corporate force with 245 share holders, 4 regional offices and over 10 of the most qualified white males between the ages of 20-22 you will ever find as corporate board members. I know what all of you are thinking, "Jesus Sack I haven't seen a corporation rise this quickly since Anheuser Busch started brewing Budweiser (aka God's nectar) in 1876"...and you are right about that. Between Easter and the 4th of July this blog has undergone a transformation not seen in that time span since Christ died, resurrected, signed the declaration of independence and co-hosted a 4th of July BBQ with Ben Franklin some 3,000 years ago. And even I can't compete with Jesus' starting the world's largest religion and the world's greatest country all within 3 months.

The Sack Artist Sees America...Part Deux
The second part of my Travel Channel series features my journey from St. Louis to the 3rd largest city in the United States...Chicago, Illinois. Chicago is known to many as the city that is ruining the virtues of hardworking farmers in the Midwest with it's capitalist agenda and trendy nightclubs where bro haters wear navy blazers over their v-neck graphic t-shirts. However I dug deeper to discover the true essence of the city...and here is what I found.

Friday, July 10
1:04 P.M.-Leave St. Louis with Paul and Dan and cross into the state of Illinois. I pass through East St. Louis...otherwise known as the land of opportunity where legitimate businesses like Strip Clubs, casinos and prostitution rings cause the local economy to thrive even in the recent economic recession

3:20 P.M.-Stop at a Subway in McLean, Illinois and load up on a couple of foot long subs covered in jalapenos. As anyone who has lived in the Sigma Chi fraternity house in Beloit know...jalapenos don't do my digestive system any favors. Wait...is this entire blog just one giant way to ensure no chicks will ever get with me?

5:15 P.M.-I find the Cubs/Cardinals baseball game on the Chicago radio. When the game comes on my radio almost instantly shuts off. Is it possible that the Cubs have somewhere cursed my beloved car Eduardo? Is there some sort of goat hidden in my 1998 Ford Explorer?

5:20 P.M.-Turns out the radio shut off because the battery in my car is dead. After 11 years my car has suffered its first serious problem...outside of projectile vomit. Also I had just chugged a 24 oz. monster at this point...so it's safe to say my heart rate was a little elevated, which clearly didn't help anything.

5:25 P.M.-I call AAA and tell them my car is stuck in Joliet, Illinois...home of the legendary Michael Kovach. The tow truck driver asks me to cough twice if I'm being held up a gun point. He says to hide in the bushes and he will be there in 20 minutes with his 12 gauge

5:50 P.M.-The Tow truck driver arrives. He has a total of 2 teeth and no discerneable ability to speak coherently. I later find out that his name is Johnboy and his parents were sharecropping cousins in Mississippi. As I step into the tow truck I can't help but to think this seems a lot like a scene from Deliverance...and we're not even in the South.

6:35 P.M.-The driver drops my car off at a repair shop in Naperville, Illinois. From some reason I was expecting a train to run right up to the repair shop and take me directly into the city. I mean this is Chicago, one of the largest cities in the world, and it is supposed to have some of the best public transportation this country has to offer. Why isn't there a train running from the middle of a suburb 38 miles from dowtown Chicago directly into the city?

6:42 P.M.-Walk into a gas station and find out the Naperville train station is like 15 miles away? This has to be the largest city I have ever heard of. I call my good friend Matt Davis to see if he can give us a ride to the station...but he is busy with some hooker he just picked up on the South side...is it a bad thing that our quarterback loves black hookers more then Hugh Grant?

6:44 P.M.-Me, Dan and Paul are shit out of luck stuck in some BS suburb with no mode of transportation. Just when I am praying for a homeless guy to run up to us pulling a rickshaw, some random guy in the gas station offers us a ride. Turns out this gentleman's name is Phil, and he couldn't have been nicer. I love Phil like a father, and I am pretty sure he loves me, Paul and Dan like sons as well.

7:05 P.M.-We get to the Naperville train station and discover that the last train into the city doesn't leave until 8:33 P.M. and doesn't arrive into Union Station till 9:30...so we obviously have some time to kill.

7:10 P.M.-Paul, Dan and I stumble into some bar which is right next door to the Naperville train station. We immediately order 6 shots of tequila and a couple rounds of whiskey and cokes. The bartenders look at us like we're nuts, but we're not...we're just from St. Louis, where real men admit their alcoholism and don't try to hide it publicly or privately

7:45 P.M.-About 7 shots and many whiskey and cokes later Paul, Dan and I are wandering around the town looking for a liquor store to buy a bottle for the train ride into the city. Real men cannot stop drinking for an entire 1 hour long train ride. I mean did Charles Barkley stop drinking after he got that DUI and offered to blow the cop to get out of it? God I hope not

8:06 P.M.-Walking the streets we are unable to find the liquor store when some Cubs fan makes a wise crack towards me. I remind him that Theodore Roosevelt was the president the last time the Cubs won the world series, which upsets him a great deal. Don't worry...he's not mad at me, he's mad at his dad.

8:15 P.M.-Still unable to find a liquor store we stumble back into the bar and take down 2 or 3 more shots of tequila. It's at that point when Paul turns to me and asks if we should get some road beers...I reply with "Hell yeah we should get some road beers." To make a long story short we boarded the train with an 18 pack of Bud Light bottles

8:33-10:15 P.M.-Ride around on various trains chugging beers like the bro I am.

10:15-10:30 P.M.-Get off the train and walk around Wrigleyville in search of my friend Jeff's apartment. I stop in a local Subway to use the facilities, and as I am leaving the Arab guy behind the counter asks if I am going to buy anything. I tell him I am not and he says "well the bathroom is for customers only." Too bad the ship sailed on that one buddy...unless you call Stephen Hawking and get him to take you back in time and prevent me from pissing I guess you are shit out of luck. Besides this is America...and that means every man has the right to piss in any open drain, free of charge or stipulation.

10:37 P.M.-I finally arrive at Jeff and his girlfriend Emily's apartment. Their apartment is packed with people hanging out, some I know, some I don't. Instead of acknowledging any one's existence I instead reach for the Canadian Reserve Whiskey as soon as I walk into the door. No Coke? No problem, you can drink this stuff straight, it's the finest Whiskey the Yukon Territory has to offer...for only $8 (Canadian) a bottle.

10:45 P.M.-After 8 straight minutes of chugging whiskey I finally decide it would be alright to acknowledge the other people in the apartment (besides Jeff who I obviously embraced when I walked in). Included in the group where Emily, Ellen (apparently I've been going to school with her for 3 years...who knew?) and her friend Stephen, and of course my pal and frequent blog mentionee Nicole Odom and several of her friends...I would mention her friends' names but I was pretty drunk and still can't remember them. This is not odd for me, when I was in kindergarten I told my teacher I couldn't spell my name so I could avoid writing it down. Could I spell my name? Of course I could, I just couldn't remember what it was. I actually thought it was "get me a fresh beer" for a couple of months because that is all my father said to me during that time span. So remembering names has clearly been a recurring problem for me.

11:38 P.M.-I finish the 5th of whiskey and decide it's time to move out into the real world...otherwise known as the Chicago bar scene, where $9 beers and $12 mixed drinks fill your belly and destroy brain cells at a slightly slower rate then their $3 counterparts in St. Louis.

Saturday, July 11
12:04 A.M.-I walk into some bar on the North side of Chicago with the crew. This place is the size of a large to medium sandbox and I am pretty sure it has Hawaiian shit all over the wall. I wish I had worn Russell Brand's Tommy Bahama shirt from Forgetting Sarah Marshall then I would have fit in real well with this clientel

12:06 A.M.-I realize it is now technically Odom's birthday and somehow am the first person to offer her a celebratory drink, despite the fact she is with at least 20 girls who have known her way longer then I have. I know buying birthday shots for chicks is not a very bro move, and it is not something that a person with my lack of consideration for other people usually does...but I am pretty drunk at this point, and if I buy Odom a shot of tequila that gives me a good enough excuse to get my own and not look completely like a John Daily Esq alcoholic

12:37 A.M.-I make best friends with the Asian lady sitting next to me at the bar...or maybe she is Mexican? or maybe Australian? I'm not sure what ethnicity she is, not because of my incredibly high level of intoxication at this point, but instead due to my level of acceptances for all races which prevents me from noticing fairly obvious human characteristics like skin color. Anyways, this lady is at least 55 and way into me...jackpot.

1:02 A.M.-I buy Odom a strong island (so I am told) just so I can chug the rest of my 7 and 7 and start drinking one of those sweet 5 alcohol concoctions myself. I now have more different kinds of liquor in my system then Ulysses S. Grant did the day he got the South to surrender in the Civil War...and who says drunk people accomplish nothing?

1:42 A.M.-The bar is closing and I am wrapping up with my conversation with the old broad next to me, and possibly sealing up an invite to her apartment for a night cap, when she tells me that she is married. Way to lead me on and crush a young man's heart. (did I get this lady's name? No, but I wouldn't have remembered it anyways so who cares)

1:58 A.M.-We get back to Jeff's apartment and I reach for an ice cold beer. Jeff and I start having an intense conversation centering on Greg Oden's knees and his real age (at least 38), while Emily starts talking in a Southern accent. Like my tow truck ride earlier in the day, Emily's accent makes me feel like I have again been tricked into a replicating a scene from Deliverance

9:37 A.M.-I wake up naked on Jeff's floor sweating my ass off and my blood alcohol level is still way above a .2. Where the hell did all my clothes go? How many times in my life can I wake up naked in a strange apartment without making some sort of life style change? Have I really become Jay Leonard (Beloit equivalent-Sam Bauman)?

1:15 P.M.-I meet Paul, Dan and Charlie at a Wrigleyville bar 2 hours before the Cardinals/Cubs game we are planning on attending. My drunken excitement from earlier in the morning has quickly changed to some sort of hungover hell that is torturing every part of my body. Can I really start drinking right now? Hell yeah I am a bro...and bros love pregaming (http://www.broslikethissite.com/2009/06/35-pregaming.html), besides the Cardinals need me to at least have a semi-buzz.

3:05 P.M.-After about 12 Bud Lights and 2 shots of tequila I am feeling good again as I walk into Wrigley Field

3:23 P.M.-Charlie slips me a flask of Captain Morgan as we begin to spike the Cokes we just bought. How does security not know we brought hard liquor into the game? Yeah 4 college kids from St. Louis show up to an afternoon game at Wrigley Field barely being able to stand and reeking of alcohol and buy a round of Cokes...that's real logical

3:24 P.M.-I mix myself up a delicious beverage and proceed to knock the cup over, spilling it all over the guy in front of me. This guy was wearing a Tour De France shirt, a live strong bracelet, a pair of Nike sunglasses and a bicycle helmet. I am pretty sure he thought he actually was Lance Armstrong because after I dumped my rum and Coke all over him he turned to me and said "Come on man I only have 1 testicle...don't you think I've been through enough?"

6:31 P.M.-We leave the game and go back into the same bar we were drinking at before...only now the bar is handing out free hot dogs. I eat 42 hot dogs in 5 minutes before vomiting everywhere...that's right I am the Joey Chestnut of eating hot dogs.

6:45 P.M.-We are still drinking in this bar when some 41 year old chick decides it would be cool to hit on me...I guess fairly unattractive cougars just love me in Chicago. After about 1o minutes of this chick trying to put her tits directly in my face I am a little freaked out and pass her off to my good friend Kyle Kitsch who has just walked in. Is Kyle interested? Of course he is, he is much more of a bro then I am and bros love cougars (http://www.broslikethissite.com/2009/06/39-cougars.html)

9:03 P.M.-We are all now back in Jeff's apartment drinking when Charlie decides he has to leave. Instead of saying goodbye to everyone and walking out of the apartment like a normal person, he decides it would be better to run away like a frightened 15 year old girl who was just propositioned by Mark Chmura.

10:14 P.M.-We arrive at Noah Reinisch's house for a sweet kegger. Many of my friends from Beloit including Noah, Kalman Huettel and the legendary Sven Lyndon are in attendance. This party has the possibility to be a pretty sweet little fiesta when Ryan Ream walks in about an hour later. Ream was my big brother in the fraternity house, but he is also a Mexican immigrant to the United States who was recently deported. I obviously have a great deal of loyalty to the man, but it is nothing compared to my loyalty to the great United States of America, so I do what any responsible American citizen would do...call the INS and report him.

Sunday, July 12
12:07 A.M.-The INS raids Noah's house. Fortunately I am able to escape carrying both the keg and Sven Lyndon on my back

1:09 A.M.-I have run at least 5 miles while carrying Sven and chugging at least 2/3rds of the keg. We stop at a parking garage and start a sweet new drinking game that is taking over college campuses...you can read about it at http://theubersapien.blogspot.com/

12:13 P.M.-I wake up and board the Brown Line train to get downtown and visit my friend Kyle Kitsch and the cougar at his sweet bachelor pad. Some guy in a Frank Thomas jersey boards the train and starts walking down the aisles preaching about Jesus Christ. Could he find a bigger group of sinners then the people riding Chicago public transportation on a Sunday afternoon? Every single person is hungover from the night before, and at least 3/4ths contracted some sort of STD from their unprotected sexual escapades the night before.

1:02 P.M.-I enter Kyle's apartment building when the security officer tells me she needs to perform a full cavity search on me before she will let me upstairs. Man these Chicago apartments have pretty strict security, but I don't argue...this is the most action I've gotten in a long time

1:24 P.M.-I finally make it up to Kyle's apartment and pass out because my body cannot function in any way, shape or form at this point.

Monday, July 13
8:15 A.M.-Paul and I get off the train we have just taken to Naperville to pick up Eduardo. Matt Davis has agreed to pick us up and give us a ride to the repair shop. The entire ride I cannot tell if Matt is asleep or not. He tells me he can't function because 8:30 A.M. is just too early for any human being to accomplish anything. Will he ever have a real job or a successful career? You be the judge

8:38 A.M.-Matt drops me off and I go in to pay. It turns out Eduardo needed a new alternator and battery, which somehow adds up to $15,000 in labor charges in Chicago. It might cost $200 in St. Louis...congrats Chicago, I have now dumped all my money into your ridiculously expensive society.

Text Updates and Big Ups
My accumulated text score since the last post (July 9) is +461 I think (329-inbox, 284-sent, 90 from females...3 unresponded to, once again all from the same person who is laughing at his/her crippling effect on my score)...but it is inexact because of the large sample size which is hard to handle despite my well earned B+ in Intro to Statistics my sophomore year.

My Big Ups have to go to every person who hung out with me in Chicago including (but not limited to) Paul, Dan, Charlie, Jeff, Emily, Ellen Kurney, Steve, Odom, her friends, Noah, Kal, Sven, Ream, Kyle Kitsch, Clare Brady and of course...the 2 cougars. I will also throw out an advanced big ups to Joey Scherer (big guy is finally a man) and Richboy Krajewski for giving me some great blogging material you will hopefully read about next post. Finally I have two very special big ups to extend. The first goes to my friend Corey Kossman. Tonight during a very intense game of beach volleyball my phone managed to fall out of the pockets of my LeBron James brand nike shorts. Just as I thought all hope was lost, Corey was able to corral my phone buried under 20 feet of sand directly under the net. The second one goes to Lisa McClure who became the first person to email/facebook me any possible topics for the blog in the future. Congrats Lisa, you have boldly gone where no one else has and have gotten a well earned mention (your 1st?) in the big ups section.

Finally I would to like to add a recruiting pitch for Sack Artists International. As I mentioned in the opening, of our 10 corporate employees all are white males between the ages of 20 and 22 (or 25...I am really not sure how old Adam Puls is). I would love to add some diversity to the corporation, so if you are a minority, female or person not between the ages of 20 and 22 feel free to apply...and don't think I gave you the job simply because of the pressure the government is putting on me to meet my quotas.

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

The Sack Artist Sees America and All You Can Eat Scrimps

Dear Readers,
This has been a busy weak for the Sack Artist...to say the least. While this post will certainly provide tremendous insights into one of the busiest and most action-packed 7 day sequences of my life, it certainly will not tell the whole story. I know what most of you are thinking right now...man Sack I wish I could put my foot in your Nikes and be you just for one day. Well I got news for all of you...just because I have my own internet webpage, and I'm a Q-list celebrity, doesn't mean my life is better or more interesting then yours. In fact the opposite is probably true...if you laid on your couch for 16 straight hours, moving only to get fresh beers and bags of doritos, and rotated your TV watching evenly between ESPN and TBS, you would have accomplished the entire Sachary L. Poelker experience and your life would be complete. However, there are three key principles to the way I live that makes my life seem interesting, entertaining, and made for the internet. First, I have a severe lack of emotional attachment that prevents me from feeling any sort of compassion or sympathy for anyone else. Second, I have no fear of social awkardness which allows me to excel in social situations that others avoid. Finally, I mock and belittle everyone around me as much as possible (including myself) with complete saracasim and an amazing grasp of the irony present in their words and actions. If you want to live your life in this fashion I suggest you practice by doing things like pushing down small children and laughing or farting in crowded places and yelling "who did that!" when everyone knows it was clearly you...and then tell everyone it was the dorky 13 year old kid next to you (who's life is already tough enough) and get the entire room to point and laugh at him. If you don't want to partake in these type of activities, and prefer to be a normal member of society, that's your decision but I'm not laughing...and neither is anyone else.

All you can eat Scrimps
As many of you have read in earlier posts, I am obessed with scrimps (shrimp) and have had the biggest craving over the past several weeks to devour an entire shipment worth of Bubba-Gump's finest. I wish I could describe to all of you how the name of one of America's most beloved ocean dwelling shell fish (shrimp) got changed to its more fitting and appropriate name (scrimps)...but if you haven't sat with Charlie Schlafly in a Captain D's drive through on North Grand, you just wouldn't understand. Anyways all my previous attempts to eat my bodyweight in seafood had been thrwarted by poor corporate advertising and a lack of culinary imagination. However, my fortunes have changed thanks to one of my favorite places in the world...Lumiere Place. Many of you know Lumiere Place as home to St. Louis' finest casino, where I lost my government tax refund but also met such A-list celebrities as the Minnesota Timberwolves' Al Jefferson (the only non-guard on their team) and the guy with a mohawk from No Doubt (Gwen Stefani's band...don't worry, I didn't know anyone besides Gwen existed either). However, it turns out Lumiere Place is also home to some of St. Louis' finest culinary delights, including their burger bar where I ate one of the manliest burgers of all time last night (1/2 lb. of angus beef, pepper jack cheese, bacon and a fried egg...of course all topped off by some fine homemade chilli), but that's not part of this story. Lumiere's exisquist buffet has a variety of specials including my personal favorite...Scrimply Tuesday. And this buffet does not lack imagination...I never seen such a scrimp spread in my life. We're talking buttered scrimp, fresh scrimp, fried scrimp, popcorn scrimp, spicy popcorn scrimp, coconut scrimp, jumbo scrimp and of course scrimp fried rice. Add in a tremendous Asian section, every different kind of chicken imaginable, some great brick oven pizza and delicious homemade ice cream, and I've never felt like such a glutton in my life. For only $26 (or about a 25 cents per pound of food I ate) you can eat away a lifetime of insecurity and depression. A starving ethopian could go 13 years without food after one visit to this fine buffet establishment. I think it's safe to say scrimpsfest '09 was a great success.

The Sack Artist Sees America: Part I
I would like to welcome all my readers to the first part in my travel channel series "The Sack Artist Sees America." For my first trip I decided to visit an America treasure known for it's skunked beer, incredible sausage production and insanely overweight residents (any connection there?)...that's right Milwaukee, WI. Here is my complete, 100% accurate diary of my travels through the midwest this past weekend and my time in Milwaukee with friends like Richboy Krajewski, Mike Kovach, Megan, Matt Kees and Snake Majeski.
Friday, July 3
10:10 A.M.-Leave St. Louis and enter the state of Illinois. I prepare for my 4 and 1/2 hour trek through the state where the only scenary of any kind is cornfields and a hooters in Springfield

12:03 P.M.-I stop for a piss break at a gas station in McClain, Illinois. A hooker has a snazy piece of advertising on the door of the bathroom stall...and let's just say her number is now saved in my address book

2:46 P.M.-Stop at Everett's liquor in South Beloit, Illinois to see my friends from the school year. Do they recogonize me? Of course...I have a frequent customer card (do they have frequent customer cards? Oh wait that's a video club card)

3:53 P.M.-Arrive at Rich Krajewski's apartment to start my weekend of drinking, sleeping and drinking again. It's a vicious cycle...but it's how I live my life

4:08 P.M.-9 beers deep...Mike Kovach's got a good lead on me, but it won't last

4:39 P.M.-Milton Bradley makes his 14th error in the Cubs/Brewers game

4:42 P.M.-Easy pop up to Milton Bradley...and he actually makes the catch for the 3rd out of the inning. However, Milton is so scarred from his past experiences he refuses to believe the inning is over and won't leave the field.

4:45 P.M.-Kovach and I switch to Vodka and monster...it lifts you up and calms you down

6:30 P.M.-I got a pretty good buzz going as we prepare to head down to Summerfest, the largest outdoor music festival that takes place in downtown Milwaukee over 4th of July weekend. Kovach steps into the restroom before we leave and decides Rich's bathroom needs some better lighting.

6:31 P.M.-Kovach takes the light bulb out of the lamp and drops it, laughing as it shatters into a million pieces on the bathroom floor.

7:02 P.M.-Arrive down on 8th street to park at Kovach and Megan's friend's apartment. What's this young lady's name? Katy Snotty...no jokes, that's just too easy

7:08 P.M.-Board a Milwaukee city bus to get down to Summerfest. What's being on a Milwaukee city bus like? Ever seen the rape scene from American History X? Well it's nothing like that, actually I felt quite safe...but I will use any excuse to get the image of Edward Norton being raped in all of your heads

7:48 P.M.-We've driven at least 15 miles and we're still not at summerfest? But we were on 8th street? That means 8 blocks and then the city ends. What's at the end of the city? A lake? Mountains? An empty abyss that leads directly to hell? I don't know...but I should've found out by now

8:08 P.M.-We finally get into Summerfest and I buy 4 shit beers and hand one to Kovach and one to Rich for their enjoyment

8:12 P.M.-We are walking around the Summerfest grounds when security runs up to Kovach and asks for his ID. As I look around I see at least 137 underaged kids walking around with alchohol free of harrasment. There is a baby in a stroller chugging a bottle of Jack Daniels. Why is security picking on Kovach? Could it be his green and white tank top (somehow Kenny Chesney is playing and Mike is the only guy wearing a tank top? wow, that's a shocker)? Could it be his boyish good lucks and his 12 year old equivalent IQ? Anyways, despite Kovach's believable plea that he left his liscense at home (1st time they heard that one), he's kicked out.

8:18 P.M.-Kovach and I scale 3 fences and tightrope over a moat filled with hungry sharks to get back in

8:20-10:30 P.M.-Drink beers and listen to music

10:35 P.M.-I walk over to the Gavin DeGraw stage just in time to hear the One Tree Hill theme song performed live. My life is now complete, especially since I get to share the moment with Richboy (no homo...hah turns out that comment wasn't gay after all, plus we're athletes).

11:15 P.M.-We've been drinking with Jake Majeski all night. As we all are getting ready to leave Snake decides it would be a good idea to smack a nearby female on the ass...and I couldn't agree more. Somehow this upsets the chick...I think she should feel pretty flatered. Her boyfriend wants to throw down until he see's Jake's 5'6", 135 lbs. frame (it's all HGH). He then runs to the cops who arrest Jake and throw him in a taxi...that's profiling if I've ever seen it

11:20 P.M.-We decide to walk back to our parking spot on 8th street

11:58 P.M.-We've walked about 34 blocks when I walk up to a street sign that reads "1st street." so 1st street is 6 miles west of downtown? What the hell Milwaukee...that just doesn't make any sense. I am not a statistics major, but shouldn't 1st street be the 1st street? I mean it's written in the God damn name

Saturday, July 4
1:03 A.M.-We get back to Richboy's apartment and I lay down on the couch to fall asleep. Matt Kees gets a hold of the remote and decides to turn on Dirty Dancing. After seeing Jennifer Grey, who also happens to play Ferris Bueller's sister, Kees asks me if this movie is just a sequel titled Ferris Bueller's Day Off 2. I explain to him that it is not, and actors can play different characters in different movies...he refuses to believe me.

1:46 A.M.-Kee's asks me if Dirty Dancing is really just Ferris Bueller's 2 for the 250th time...if I hear Kees say one more word I'm going to burn the apartment down and put a bullet in my brain.

1:47 A.M.-I call the Brookfield fire department...the entire apartment is up in flames

10:35 A.M.-Wake up in Libby (Rich's roomate and Joe Davis' girlfriend...nice) bed naked. Is Libby here? God I hope so. Too bad she is no where to be found...my dreams are shattered and I feel used.

12 P.M.-Start drinking

12:30 P.M.-Go to lunch at Habeineros Mexican resturant. They make guacamole tableside and it's phenomenal. Kovach has a new high fat liquid to replace his ranch dressing fetish. Megan makes best friends with Miguel, the guacamole maker.

12:45 P.M.-The waitress asks me if my order is correct and I tell her "I forgot what I got or what I'm getting isn't what I got." If you can't follow that sentence don't worry...you're not alone. Kovach and Richboy are laughing harder then when they found out I pronunce the name of the largest state in America as "Colifornia"

1 P.M.-12 A.M.-I'm either drunk, sleeping or listening to the band Jet perform their new album at Summerfest. How many people have bought Jet's new album? Can't be that many...these guys are no Jonas Brothers I can tell you that (although they are probably also virgins)

Sunday, July 5
8 A.M.-1 P.M.: One of the most amazing tennis matches of all time is going on as Andy Roddick is battling some European douche in the Wimbledon final. Kovach strolls in during the 5th set and looks at the score. Seeing Federer is up 11-10 in the 5th set he proclaims "Federer's up a set...shouldn't this match be over?" No Mike it shouldn't be...in fact it might still be going on.

1:15 P.M.-We return to Habineros because Kovach's body can now only digest guacamole

1:20 P.M.-The guy making our guacamole isn't Miguel from yesterday...and Megan is very upset. She insults the new guacamole maker, Carlos, who proceeds to pull his pants down and start to add his own special sauce to a guacamole. Luckily his boss walks in and sees this yelling "Not at the table Carlos!"

1:30 P.M.-Kovach, Rich and I all order the macho grande burrito. Kovach thinks it would be a good idea to challenge me to a burrito eating contest. I finish my macho grande burrito while Kovach is still spreading enourmous amounts of sour cream all over his. Don't let that mustache Kovach sometimes grows fool you...he is a child.

2 P.M.-Rich and I head down to Potawatomi Casino...God bless Native Americans

4:30 P.M.-I have lost all the money from my bank account, the shirt off my back and even the stash of hash browns I keep in my pockets. I think every Indian tribe in Wisconsin has put some sort of curse on me forcing me to lose huge sums of money at their casinos. Richboy on the other hand won $250,000. How you ask? He snuck Kovach in the casino with him...try telling Mike counting cards is hard because he practically bankrupt a casino (and an entire Indian tribe) and he's a semi-functioning re-tard.

5:15 P.M.-I leave Milwaukee probably never to return...God that Miller shit can ruin a weekend, and the image of an entire city, real quick

Texting Update and Big Ups
Due to the incredible length of this post I will keep this short and sweet. My new phone has allowed me to save every text message since the last post, so I can give you post to post updates on my text messaging score. My current score is +346 (243-inbox, 203-sent, 63 from females)...that's a lot of math.

Got several quick big ups to give out. First to Richboy, Kovach, Megan, Snake, Kees and everyone else who spent time with me in Milwaukee. Also to Paul Beauttenmueller and Charles Schlafly for enjoying the SAI St. Louis office scrimps buffet trip with me. Got to give it up to Nick Swardson for reading my last post and emailing me back saying he thought it was funny...that's big time if he's telling the truth. I also would like to announce the one new employee of Sack Artists International (SAI) I hired this past week...remember there still plenty of positions available

Regional Manager Wisconsin Province/Least Paid and Respected Employee: Scramuel Booman

Finally I would like to take this time to give a very sincere and serious big ups to Steve "Air" McNair. Steve was a true competitor and a champion, and he inspired millions of people myself included...and he will certainly be missed.

Back soon with part 2 in the Sack Artist Sees America

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

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"



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