in my "other" life...

Check this out from this link:

If you want an idea of what kind of player Randy Adams is, think Brett Lantz, only taller, and with similar basketball ability.

Hmm... He must not be very good ;)

coming soon... goke 2.0

something big is in the works. I'm not going to say what exactly, but this time I mean business.

Drunken Blog Entry... Three Months Late... Also.... Johnny G's Birthday. (But not why I'm drunk) (cuz I'm not drunk) (Holy crap I drank like one sip

If I gave my testicles to another... did I spell testicles right?... man... aka Lance Armstrong... and he had a kid... would it be my kid?

ching ching... ching ching

If it WAS my kid... you could bet that he wouldn't be winning a tour de france anytime soon.... (notice I didn't capitalize france because france sucks...)


Annnnnd I'm spent...

Wow... I used a lot of periods in this post.

I've got a bike, you can ride it if you'd like...

Slick: Anything else?
JG: I don't think so.

Simple Arithmetic

Me + 1 Beer + Moving Escalator = Fuuuuun

Advice of the Week...

Never try to pierce your lip with a large jagged metal pipe. If you do anyway, at least try not to look at it right away.


"So that's what it feels like to be Ross..."

you know why I like high school girls?

High school romance is weird, man. So much different from real life. It's like four years of our existence are spent inside this strange bubble where everything is quite exaggerated. I was thinking this morning about this kind of stuff, it's like soooo dreamy. I can't put it into words (not enough caffeine yet this morning) but maybe somebody can help me out.

FYI: Apparently The Rock calls his "region" the "People's Strudel." Just thought you'd like to know.

"Footprints in the Sand"

Has it really been a decade since the rHu began? That is hard to believe. My earliest memory of there being any randal Haters was us punk kids climbing the contruction fence at the park across the street and "tagging" our logo in the sand beneath the jungle gym. Of course somebody called the cops, and before long some of us were running, some of us were hiding, and some of us were just standing there lying to The Man. Without the fuzz showing up then would there be an rHu today? Who knows.

I don't think the the rHu was ever even about randal hating. In fact, I don't think it really had any purpose. It was its own purpose. To me it seemed the like rHu was just an excuse more than anything else, but I can't put my finger on what it was an excuse for? An excuse to get together and break stuff? More than likely. An excuse to band together in a gang and feel more powerful than any of us did alone? Probably. Somehow the rHu gave me the license to do things I never would have done otherwise. And for better or for worse, that definitely affected who I am today.

And now we have sort-of come full circle. Though we're separated by state lines and hundreds of miles, here we punk kids are banding together, logging on, and tagging our name in the sand once again.

For ten years the rHu has kept me laughing. Here's to ten more.

high school as i hath experienced it...

It's been a while since anybody posted anything here, and believe it or not, it seems like I've actually been pretty good with my post regularity. It must be all that fiber I've been eating.

I have been thinking a great deal lately about the high school experience. Rather than thinking about the four years in some sort of Columbine-esque conflict between abstract groups of jocks and geeks, I've been thinking of the specific events that compose each student's career in high school.

For instance, one moment that stands out particularly strongly in my mind is when I was playing magic the gathering (yes, I was a geek, but that should be obvious by now) and a certain "train-like" football player walked by saying, "oh look, it's the magic fags." I also remember arriving early for early-morning walks through the hall to pick on the jehova's witness who was a bit annoying, the napkin stash, the "bloody german", calling skittles "shittles", starburst fruit twists and dr. pepper, channel 1 news, a certain fight I might have been in, water fights in gym swim class, edited romeo and juliet videos, "pantzing" in frau frau's class, journalism class, getting shot down by two different girls (and shooting down one other), frog dissection, awkward pseudo-romantic moments senior year, horton throwing his XC jersey at Mr. Ware and driving off, toilet papering, and some more. Maybe some day I will make this more coherent.

What are your most memorable HS moments?

It's All In the Color

So why do they make the yellow starbursts? Nobody likes them. Whenever you buy a large bag of them, you will always end with a bunch of yellows. Everyone likes the red, everyone likes the pink, and most like the orange. But when it comes to the yellow, what are they thinking? Take out the yellow and sell packages of red, pink, and orange only.

word to the wise

To all people out there with half a brain or working ear drums you owe it to yourself to purchase (or pirate but you didn't hear it from me though, yarr I'm a pirate maytee) the above album. If that doesn't float your boat, maybe the one below is better suited to your tastes.

Home... HOME... Where I wanted to roam!

We should all get shrunk in size and live in a giant 3D puzzle city. That would be so cool.

I call the castle!! Not the Magic Kingdom, the german one. Sorry JG.

blog against the machine

The question must be asked whether the rHu needs yet another blog that probably (at least judging from past experience) won't get half-hearted updates half as often as it probably should. The answer to said question? A resounding yes! Do you not understand that our collective might may bring down the uninhibited power of the man? No? Too many rhetorical questions? Let me explain.

Deep within the corners of a corn field in rural Indiana live some Amish. They like to use sickles, much like the one depicted above. One day, a couple of teenagers crashed their little red car there (or something like that; my memory is foggy) and a couple of Amish kids walked out from the tall stalks of corn, sickles in hand. For what it's worth, I liken this event to the day the Pilgrims landed on Plymoth Rock except with fewer Indians, more Amish, and less smallpox. Anyway, so these Amish were all like, "get out of our field, you no-good bourgeois Abercrombie-wearing suckle-at-the-corporate-teat hoebags." And the teens were like, "umm... but we were just..." But the Amish weren't having any of this backtalk. Needless to say, much blood and many tears were shed. And the Amish emerged from the cloud of smoke victorious, as the Amish often do.

The moral of the story is this: freakish looking kids armed with sickles (and fighting words) can bring down even the biggest of large, moronic farmers or farm corporations. I hope that by letting our blog powers combine (jerfgoke → wind, gandhi → water, slick → earth, and noturn → heart) we can summon Captain Planet and take pollution down to zero. (Actually, aren't we missing fire? Who's fire??? FIIIIIIIIIREEE! NOOOOOOOooooo! BEEP BEEP BEEP porkchop sandwiches! sorry, I digress...) In addition to this noble experiment, I expect at least one drunken blog entry per month. (Disclaimer: the use of alcohol while composing drunken blog entry may or may not actually occur.) One last thing. I expect reminiscing of more prosperous times of yore and a bunch of other stuff listed in the fine print below.

randal haters unanonymous will attempt to provide within a reasonable timeframe, but accepts no liability for: humor, both on and off-color; random musings; references to inside jokes; weird image links; "rays of sunshine"; posts under obviously not anonymous pseudonyms, "TP", sarcastic answers to posted comments; complaints about school and/or work; typos, intentional or not; complaints; references to Amish; Biblical references to Pizza; "water" incidents; deleted posts from jerfgoke; and, anything else I forgot... it's 2:30 am right now for goodness sake.