Gary Ashley's Series of Unfortunate Events Part #2

Part #2: “Trapped in a Mall with No Zombies to Shoot"

Saturday August 25th, 7:20 am - Wake up with hair not combed but hat on, Showered the night before to save time in the morning. Dad of course is still not ready.

Saturday August 25th, 8:30 am - Half-awake and malnourished, left the house for Sears with dad in separate cars. So totally did not adjust to dad time, where no sense of urgency adds 1.5 hours to the original mentioned time. Battery thankfully stays alive.

Saturday August 25th, 8:56 am - Dad has me drive in reverse into a parking space, which I may add the entire lot is near empty. I drive in reverse and pull forward into the spot while he yells at me for not being close while backing up.

Saturday August 25th, 8:57 am - "Leave a small crack in your window so it doesn't get humid." F*** the windows, I shut the car off.

Saturday August 25th, 9:00 am to 9:15 am - Our associate today is Ian; he does the paperwork and has my keys for the mechanics to look over. Best-case scenario is just the battery needs changed. The mechanics look it over, that will take about 45 minutes.

Saturday August 25th, 9:40 am - All of the main mall stores are closed, just the fringe department stores. While half-awake I saunter into K-Mart and walk around aimlessly killing time in the sporting goods section with the MP3 player on. Electric Six saved my life today.

Saturday August 25th, 10:02 am - The alternator (the thing that charges the battery) needs replaced with parts and labor totaling $400. Dad puts it on his credit card and I'll have to pay that back. The Gospel according to Sears Associate Ian says that it will take approximately 3 hours to get done and he'll call my cell phone when they're done. A bit problematic when I discover that I'm down to only one bar on my cell phone, and if it dies on me then I'm really screwed.

Saturday August 25th, 10:14 am - Eat'n Park to cure the undernourishment of only a couple grapes for breakfast. During the course of the meal the guy behind me is complaining about his wife treating him like dirt. While still upset from the $400 price tag earlier, I think to myself, "Yeah I'll divorce you...right out of your seat and INTO THE FRICKIN WALL!!!" Those thoughts changed when the food arrived.

Saturday August 25th, 11:00 am to 12:56 am - Dad is on a wild goose chase for these work gloves he found online, so naturally with time to be killed he drives to about 3 different stores to find them. Oblivious to the heat I catch up on sleep even with the car off and the windows up.

Saturday August 25th, 1:10 pm - The afternoon heat and humidity get the best of me at the worst possible place: Big Lots. You see dad is like a kid in a candy store in Big Lots (and other discount merchandise chains) and scopes out most every item in the store. All four power windows are up except for the little crack in the windows but he has the keys. I figured I could open the door, walk in and enjoy the air conditioning BUT NO the car alarm goes off. YES. THE CAR ALARM which dad must have phantom set during the previous events while opening up FROM THE INSIDE. Obviously complicating the situation is the lack of a "turn the f****** car alarm off" button on the dash or for that matter any location in the interior. Said alarm goes off after 5 minutes of annoying random parking lot shoppers. I'm trapped inside the car like some breed of dog the size of a football. Dad arrives while I attempt to open the sunroof with a screwdriver.

Saturday August 25th, 1:30 pm - We have problems. Chevrolet out sources the layout of their interiors to Iceland and they make wacky designs for the sole purpose of causing hell to certified mechanics everywhere. Because of said complications the repair will take much longer than expected. Current mood at this point: murderous.

Saturday August 25th, 1:45 pm - Walking around a shopping mall or any public place for that matter completely mad is not exactly a good thing. Neither is the desire to tell the HDTV’s to lay off me buying them because I just dumped $400 on dad's credit card to be stuck looking at you. Here, have a high-velocity baseball bat, crystal-clear Norah Jones.

Saturday August 25th, 1:56 pm - Powerball tickets at K-Mart. Thank you elderly lady in front of us for not knowing how to use a debit card and cashier lady for being overly nice with a louder than normal volume. Then again now I'm puzzled as to why the elderly play the lottery when in actuality it says "Benefits older Pennsylvanians." Someone's garden-hosing somewhere.

Saturday August 25th, 2:05 pm - This asshole on the K-Mart loudspeaker babbles on for 5 minutes and gets overly technical with a 30% off sale.

Saturday August 25th, 2:10 pm - I audibly whisper "SHUT THE FUCK UP THANK YOU" in the shoe section once he’s done.

Saturday August 25th, 2:30 pm - Progress is being made in that we get to walk into the operating room. One thing I've learned is that at any time when they lead you out of the reception area and into the work zone, then that's a good sign. Our mechanic (who seriously could pass for a high school student, if so I hope he's trained well) shows us where the alternator in the car is located: behind the right front wheel, behind the wheel axle, and up above in there somewhere. I'd draw a diagram but it would probably contain obscenities. The mechanic says it will take 30-45 minutes to get the axle and wheel back on.

Saturday August 25th, 2:35 pm - Seeing is how I have a better timetable and still with life on the cell phone, I give Sara a call for emotional support after texting her saying that I was in hell. She leaves for work at 3 pm. It would've been better on my part to have called her and made plans oh say, 3 hours ago. And if you're reading this Sara, thanks for the emotional support. Plus it was convenient to have the auto section next to the outdoor patio furniture. Sunrooms, baby!

Saturday August 25th, 2:55 pm - One last pass through the mall makes me realize that going to the mall sucks when 1) You have no money to buy things or 2) There are no zombies to shoot.

Saturday August 25th, 3:10 pm - Car is fixed and Capital One has the bill. Ian adds that the "brakes were a little spongy and we have a free brake evaluation going on right now." The first question I was going to say was "How long will this take?" and that's what she said but then "NO" was a better answer. And seriously Mr. Squarepants, what the f*** kind of description is "spongy"? Are you saying my car absorbs water? Yes it does on the seats, and thanks for asking bubs.

Saturday August 25th, 3:15 pm - Leave mall, head home. 9:00 am to 3:15 pm in the Indiana Mall and surrounding areas. Total time: 6 hours, 15 minutes.

10 Things I learned from Saturday alone:

1) Buy a car with a warranty, or as-is but have more money than the actual car price set aside for random parts that won't work or fall off when you get it.

2) To avoid pesky store clerks asking you if you need anything while in FTW-mode, play your MP3 player at the loudest volume level possible with headphones. Upon making eye contact with the clerk make a non-verbal gesture similar to "stand" in blackjack.

3) If you ever find yourself trapped in a shopping mall, start hunting for zombies.

4) If there are no zombies in said shopping mall, become one.

5) Do not feel ashamed crying in the stall of the men's bathroom while in the fetal position. This did not happen, but had the price or time been larger it would've been done.

6) High Definition television is for pussies and baseball bats.

7) Suppress murderous rage by watching the free banjo and guitar show in the concourse.

8) Inflate murderous rage by taking a chair to the people on stage.

9) You will always get some humorous satisfaction from the merchandise on sale at Spencer's Gifts. However, it no longer becomes funny the moment you buy it.

10) When driving a modern Icelandic-assembled car, any ballpark time figure becomes triple.

Gary Ashley's Series of Unfortunate Events Part #1

Part #1: The Prequel

To some of you I have already mentioned that at the late age of 23 I officially own my very first car, a black 1995 Chevy Lumina that according to the dealer "was top of the line back in the day." While it is a new and exciting feeling that comes with it, I have also at the same time unleashed the gates of hell into an unfathomable amount of stress, suffering, and lost time and money that will come from future repairs.

And I am making this statement after only owning it for 3 days.

Here's the course of events that lead up to this post:

Thursday, August 16th, 3:00 pm - Mom calls me at work (she was driving her car, usually I take it to work) saying that the radiator died and took a monumental pee in the parking lot of Dollar General. Given the situation, I would've done that without the car.

Friday, August 17th, 5:00 pm - With the car out of action and weekend plans involving individual means of transportation out the window, dad has to pick me up from work but completely forgets about it in an apparent miscommunication.

Friday August 17th, 6:05 pm - Arrive home after late pickup. Would have probably been arrested for loitering if a cop came by.

Monday August 20th, 7:00 pm - Bumming rides off people may have worked in high school but it doesn't when you're employed full time and have a social life. Canceled on Improv practice and later bowling with friends (though the latter would've originally been canceled by the former) to shop for a new car.

Tuesday August 21st, 3:15 pm - Leave work early to attend dentist appointment, this time picked up on time by dad. Though I have no health insurance, I figured since I have the money and haven't seen them in about a year and a half it was time to get the teeth checked over.

Tuesday August 21st, 3:46 pm - Going to the dentist was a lot cheaper and with less paperwork when I was a kid. $157 and a new toothbrush later I find the set of car keys to one of the other cars I looked at last night in my coat pocket. Honest Abe kicks in.

Tuesday August 21st 4:10 pm - Return car keys to dealer, receive word that the black Lumina is ready for a test drive. Cue the Beastie Boys.

Wednesday August 22nd 2:20 pm - Work-related delivery to Indiana enables me to mess with the features of the car. Window defogger is massive; CD player still needs a tryout.

Thursday August 23rd, 5:15 pm - The paperwork is finalized, and after many "Gary V. Ashley" signatures and writing the largest check I have ever written in my life, I am the proud owner of a used car. First unnecessary thoughts: hard guy photo shoot, rims, high-bass stereo system with gangster folk music

Friday August 24th, 5:16 pm - While cashing a check at the bank, the car's battery dies on me at the intersection of the road near said bank. Dad gets called with jumper cables and arrives while I play traffic cop. Upon the first jump it gets me to about 0.3 miles to my house before dying again requiring a second jump. It then dies in the driveway parked.

Friday August 24th, 7:30 pm - Dad recharges the battery, which is with something old because it has a Monty Ward sticker on it so you know it was from a while ago. He then says that the car needs looked at, thus he makes plans for us to go to Sears the next day. The closest Sears is 20 miles away and the wakeup time is 7 am. The normal wake time for work is at 7:30 am. Saturday was supposed to be my day to sleep in and do nothing with all the crap that's happened this week.

TO BE CONTINUED, END OF PART #1

Jay Leno Grabs a Shotgun

As a born-again MySpace user I have found that the site has improved somewhat, adding new features and attracting less random friend invites. A few of these features have included professional profiles for entertainers and writers, and the ability for users to add videos. Certain users use this feature for good purposes as a way to showcase their work, while most everyone else abuses it by uploading videos of pointless happenings, in-room booty dancing, and stuff eBaumsworld already stole from other sites.

That all pales in comparison to the absolute worst video I am about to tell you about.

Ladies and Gentleman, The Cat's DVD.

To give you some explanation of The Cat's DVD, the 3 hour long movie for $20 is footage of commonly hunted cat animals such as hummingbirds, bees on a flower, squirrels, goldfish, and mice. Added with that is digital footage of laser light shows and other effects designed to have your cat scratch holes in your new plasma TV or oak home entertainment cabinet. Allow me to put it in clear bold and italics to the creators of this DVD:

CATS DO NOT WATCH TELEVISION.

This product is nothing more than a feeble attempt at the human species's assimilation of all other animals in the animal kingdom by having them do the same things humans do. This is bundled with other stupid ideas such as dressing up your cat and cat-to-English translators. Technically speaking The Cat's DVD is not your cat watching TV, but rather you the stupid human watching your cat attempt to maul your Magnavox. As an explanation to why people would buy this, let's just say they're as curious as the intended consumer. The Cat's DVD is intended for a younger cat demographic who's hunting skills have not been finely tuned, as older cats know the difference between what is real and tasty and what is glass, static, and humiliation.

I looked at the website and it said 'As Seen on TV'. If I already saw this on TV, why should I see it again? My cat does not need an instant replay. The next question to ask is "who would be crazy and psycho enough to buy this 3 hour crapfest?" Easy answer: The Psycho Cat Lady Demographic, ages 50 to 75+ who believe that all 7 to 45 cats in their household are actual people with actual feelings. These are the types of people that eventually get arrested for animal creulty and get an atomic Febreeze bomb dropped on their house. The smell of cat urine stays around FOR YEARS.

To disprove to this site that the product does not work, I enlisted the help of a professional subject:















This is Frosty, the Ashley household cat of 4 years of age. In cat years, that would be about 27. At this age his hunting skills are finely tuned. I sat him down in front of a TV tray in the living room to see if he would react to anything on the TV. He jumped off the tray in about 20 seconds and demanded to go outside. This proves my theory that cats have better things to do such as eating cat food, sleeping, and hunting REAL animals than watching Law and Order or The OC.

To the company that made this waste of plastic and video tape, I would so charge them with Animal Stupidity charges if such a criminal charge was invented. Stay away from this product. If you notice a smell coming from your neighborhood cat lady's house, call the cops.

Celebrity Drink Madness

The other night I had this dream where I was in a video store shopping for a movie purchase or rental. During this dream I came across a can of Steven Segal’s “Bloodsport Energy Drink,” a red and black 20 ounce aluminum can with Mr. Segal in an angry Ghandi fighting stance. Looking downward I saw the orange sticker and the clearance video store price of 35 cents. After tasting the drink the scene changed to my house with a guitar player and my girlfriend. Apparently the guys running the dream in my head couldn’t think of the appropriate taste for “Cherry water with plastic,” so they figured, “Ahh hell let’s change the scene and put him with a girl.”

It seems that these days the energy drink market is becoming over saturated with every Red Bull knockoff and guarana-enhanced soft drink possible. The second wave of this energy drink madness is not brand new products manufactured by major companies, but rather celebrity-endorsed drinks made as pet projects.

Today professional wrestling icon Hulk Hogan, riding off of the success of his VH1 reality show and already-famous pro wrestling celebrity status, has now thrown his red and yellow hat into the ring of energy drinks. In fact, a good portion of his new season will give behind-the-scenes looks at the making of this poor waste of water and plants with Hogan and former WCW president Eric Bischoff marketing this into the ground.

I can only imagine the very first TV commercial. Here’s an excerpt with Hogan loaded on about 5 cans of his own product, and the Batshitometer at about 35:

“WELL LET ME TELL YA SOMETHING, GENE! WHEN YOU START DRINKING THE HULK ENERGY AND START FUCKING HULKING WITH ALL YOUR FELLOW HULKAMANIACS, YOU'LL THINK EVERYONE'S ANDRE THE GIANT, BROTHER! AND YOU'LL GO ON A MAD FUCKING BODY SLAMMING SPREE IN A SHOPPING MALL, BROTHER! DON’T SAY ANYMORE VITAMINS AND EAT ANYMORE PRAYERS, YOU GOT ALL THE HOLY FLINTSTONES IN THIS CAN, GENE! SO WHATCHA GONNA DO, BROTHER!? WHEN YOU DRINK THE HULK ENERGY AND YOUR FUCKING HEART JUMPS OUT OF YOUR CHEST AND RUNS WILD ON YOU!?”

Set your Tivos for that event.

Now after this revelation I wondered how many celebrity energy drinks are on the market. After Googling “Steven Segal” and “energy drink”, my search landed me on the tech/geek/gamer site Xoxide, and into the madness of three reviewed energy boosters of choice.

First Celebrity Drink: Steven Segal’s Lightning Bolt Energy Drink

Price: $2.49 a can (on sale)
Select Ingredients: Tibetan Goji Berry, Asian Cordyceps, B-Vitamins, Green Tea, Yerba Mate, Ginseng, Ginkgo Biloba, Guarana, and Policosanols
Probably Feels Like: Steven Segal just punched through your chest to grab his coat on a hanger, and then passed the coat through the opening in your body

I’m not exactly sure if I can count this as a celebrity drink since Steven Segal has lost his celeb status while deep in the mountains of Tibet and the jungles of Asia finding ingredients for his concoction. Then again, I dare you to name a critically-acclaimed Steven Segal movie that does not include the words “Under” or “Siege”. The ingredients above are probably all available at your local grocery store under less fancy names. The features of the drink according to Xoxide best describe the drink to its maximum potential:

“100% Pure Steven Segal Juice”

Yup, the drink tastes like Steven Segal’s man juice. Interestingly enough one of the flavors is called “Asian Experience”, and was coined after he made love to an entire village of women at the same time. “Fire Down Below” indeed!

“Designed for intense mortal combat or any extreme situation requiring ultimate energy”

In the rare situation that you are fighting your best friend to the death, wrestling a grizzly bear at the state fair, or feel like flipping over a car by yourself, this drink will come in handy.

“Can has Steven Seagal’s face on it (who could ask for more!?!)”

Just because it has Steven Segal’s face on the cover doesn’t mean it is going to be an instant seller. Google “Steve Segal + DVD Sales” and prepared to be disappointed.

Second Celebrity Drink: Nelly’s Pimp Juice

Price: $1.89 a can
Select Ingredients: Vitamins, Taurine, 100mg of Guarana Caffeine, and D-Ribose; Glows bright green around UV Light
Probably Feels Like: The yearly disappointment of the Rams missing the Super Bowl

No surprise that a rapper like Nelly is breaching out of the music industry to jump into other ventures. It is also no surprise that this is the second energy drink that alludes to the celebrity endorser’s semen. The product is designed to look like a beer can with “Pimp Juice” written in a Miller-esque format. When you realize that you’re a moron for buying and drinking this crap, that’s when you’re living the Low Life.

You can immediately tell that a product of this amount of coolness and gangstability does not belong on a tech/geek site such as Xoxide. Allow me to show why from select lines of the product description:

“Nelly’s Pimp Juice is for all those who know ‘pimp'n ain't easy.’"

“Imagine the looks on everyone’s faces at your next LAN party as you are transformed into a manic frag monster after quaffing this bright glowing green concoction.”

“Buy pimp juice now and be the first to walk your street with a glorious pimped out aura that will attract the opposite sex like something out of a rap video.”

This would be a good time to consult your Oxford English Contradictionary. To make it easier I’ll edit the last one to fit the second:

“Buy pimple cream now and be the first to walk your street with a glorious aura of sweat that will retract the opposite sex like something out of your hot chick anime video collection.”

Conclusion: Buy Nelly’s drink only if the only dance club you attended was in Azeroth and collect frequent fapper miles with naked girls from previously said location.

So there are two examples of ingestible drinks. How about an alternative?

Third Celebrity Drink: Caffeinated Soap
Price: $7.99 per bar
Select Ingredients: peppermint oil, caffeine anhydrous, soap
Probably Feels Like: Herbal Essence meets Cornholio

For when you are the ultimate multitasker that is too lazy to drink coffee in the shower, or according to Xoxide: “Know any programmers who don't regularly bathe and need some special motivation?”, along comes the love child of Juan Valdez and Tyler Durden, Caffeinated Soap.

Unlike our previous energy boosters/sperm donations mentioned previously in this article, the caffeine is ingested through the skin rather than the hard way of over the lips and through the tongue. We can only imagine that after some time where the product user becomes addicted to caffeine soap that they switch to decaf. Or as us regular humans call it, soap.

So there you have it folks. Soap on crack, two celebrity drinks made entirely of reproductive material, and another celebrity riding on success that enters the market. As a public service announcement, do not feel surprised if at some point in your life you see Hulk Hogan, Steven Segal, or Nelly on a 20 oz can in your local video store on sale for 35 cents.

That would be a dream come true.

Back that Bass Up!

"Give a man a fish, and feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he'll feed himself for a lifetime..." - Proverb

"...Make a competition about fish, and bore that man to death." - Gary Ashley

Tomarrow is going to be a very eventful and nationally-publicized day in my town of Kittanning. A day that hasn't had this much national coverage since The Mothman Prophecies was filmed in 2000 and Richard Gere was nearly steamrolled by an obsessed female fan. The are no guy fans of Richard Gere.

Kittanning is having a fishing tournament. But not just any fishing tournament. A fishing tournament on ESPN. Most likely to be aired on daytime, where on ESPN if there's an event that decides a winner and a loser, they'll air it on daytime. You name it: chess matches, paper football tournaments, billiards, and probably a few other things. A lot of local hoopla has been poured into this nationally televised event.

I have two words for it: Bo. Ring.

Fishing for 5 straight hours is like waiting in the dentist office: you may end up reading an interesting article in Newsweek that you never quite finish, or you just plain fall asleep and wake up when something happens. There's a reason why dad and I don't care for fishing: why hunt for something that you can get at the supermarket?

But fear not, fellow fishing fans that I have not yet turned away in this article. With the wide sponsorship and even wider contestant field, I have devised a few temporary rules to spice up the competition in whole. Hey, if it worked for Texas Hold Em, It can certainly work here. The format to this is mentioning a rule already in place, and changing it to better suit the excitment and thrilling drama that is a fishing tournament.

Here we go.

OLD: Competitors stay a fair distance away from each other to not disturb the fish.
TO BE CHANGED TO: "Captain Blackbeard Rule": Fisherman can board other's boats and steal their fish.

OLD: Biggest fish wins the tournament.
TO BE CHANGED TO: "Kennywood Duck Pond Rule": certain fish are numbered. Bring the numbered fish back to the prize table and get yourself a small prize; a plastic kazoo, army solider, or maybe a small stuffed animal.

OLD: Prestigious trophy and huge winnings given to the tournament champion.
TO BE CHANGED TO: "Wal-Mart $14.99 Father's Day Gift Rule": Winner's trophy is the winning fish caught, gutted, and stuffed with animatronics to be his own Singing Billy Trophy Bass. The only trophy that sings "Take Me to the River". Classic.

OLD: One main purse with prize money for the top finishers.
TO BE CHANGED TO: "Scavenger Hunt Jackpot Rule": Bonus money awarded for each part of the car pulled from the bottom of the river.

OLD: Fishermen remain focused and ready to catch fish for 5 hours.
TO BE CHANGED TO: "BYOB Rule": Contest carries a 5 drink minimum.

OLD: Fishermen equipped with high speed, high tech fishing boats equipped to spot fish.
TO BE CHANGED TO: "Real Men of Genius Rule": Competitors start with a roll of duc tape and are asked to build their own boat.

OLD: Three-day wide celebration with games and booths, culminating with the actual fishing tournament.
TO BE CHANGED TO: "Cost Cutting Rule": Hold all the major side events on the same day of the competition. Any professional reeler can catch a fish, but catching a fish during a rubber duckie race? Now that's hardcore.

OLD: Fishermen are registered and given designated numbers on their boat and clothes.
TO BE CHANGED TO: "Put the 'Tanning' in 'Kittanning' rule": Contestant registration numbers are farmer tanned onto their skin.

OLD: Five straight hours of fishing in 2 days.
TO BE CHANGED TO: "Uncle Ernie's Tacky Luau Rule": part of that 5 hours can be fished at night, however Wal-Mart tiki torches are mandatory.

With these rules in place the American Bass Tour, Wal-Mart, and the World Bass Council can expect record advertising revenue and sky high ratings unparalleled to anything shown on ESPN. And if it crashes and burns, well, they can replace it with a spelling bee or Texas Monopoly.

Making your Bucco Bobblehead Worth More

For those that have went to a Pittsburgh Pirates game in the last few years, you may have been one of the lucky fans to walk into PNC Park happy even before the game started. You honestly could care less which pierogie won the 4th inning race, who batted 5th for the rival Milwaukee Brewers, and which Pirates reliever gave up 8 runs in the 7th inning to lead to a 13-5 loss. You didn't care about any of that, because you were one of the first 5,000 people to make it.

You got yourself a bobblehead doll.

But that was 3 years ago, when the bobble craze was rampant. Times have changed. It's a whole new team. Literally. They had a yard sale last year after the All-Star Break. Now you're stuck with a bobblehead doll of a player that either got traded to another team and no longer plays for the Succos, or you have one of a Buccos blue chipper at the time that has turned so bad that showing it outside of the confines would lead to mass ridicule.

Another thing to consider about these dolls is that they're collectors items. They are deemed collectible if there's a certain level of value to them. For a Kip Wells bobblehead, the example we will use in this article, you'd be better off trading it for a bowling trophy.

But fortunatly thanks to the age of the internet, online auctioning, and shows like Pimp My Ride and Extreme Makeover, the good people at TM2 Productions will show you how to get the maximum value out of your lame former Bucco Bobblehead doll.

Follow these simple tips:

1) Certain Buccos can bear a striking resemblance to former legendary Pirates players. Brian Giles can easily pass for Andy Van Slyke, and Oliver Perez easily for Roberto Clemente with some careful Photoshopping, filing and/or chiseling.

Better yet if you want to run the risk of making serious bank on this, make up a rare Pirates player using the same face, only different number and name. Anything ending in "owski" is guranteed $500 opening bid.

2) Bucco bobbleheads are worth more if they have the We Are Family era uniforms. cover the helmet and jersey with a thick layer of nacho cheese and let cool. Make sure to restrain all domesticated animals that may wish to lick your masterpiece. That's what she said. Also be careful not to make the cheese too hot, otherwise the face of the doll may become disfigured, turning your Jason Kendall into a Jim Leyland.

3) Shave off the numbers and last name on the jersey, as well as the name on the base with a file and draw in magic marker. If the base is black, resort to whiteout using a stencil.

4) Fill in any blemishes that have shown up in your work with a crayola marker that corresponds to the matching color of the area. Real counterfeits don't replace the presidents on cash money with pictures of their friends, and you shouldn't either.

So here's what my final product looked like: I chose to go the route of the rarely-known but famous Bucco from 1970s World Series team. Which one, I don't know. I'll be happy with my nacho-cheese smelling bobblehead that now rarely bobbles, ready to snap a photo, auction it off, and wait for the bids to come in.

6 days have passed and still no $500 opening bid for a "SKip Wellsenkowski" 1974 Season bobblehead doll.

I don't want your damn pizza.

I would like to take this break in the hectic-yet-relaxing finals week to tell you about the first time I was mentioned on TV.

About 3 years ago when Austin 3:16 and the WWF was hot, there was a local access show in the Pittsburgh area by the name of Pro Wrestling Review. It featured a bunch of Pittsburgh area pro wrestling columnists talking about current events and news of pro wrestling. Every week would feature a trivia contest and the winner would receive a free pizza from their local sponsor.

Dring one week, 3 of the 4 questions could be answered through research and the 4th was "which fruit was thrown at" during some match. Well an orange was the logical guess, so I went with that and sent the other ones in.

The following week, they run down the correct answers. All of them correct, even the orange one.

I won.

"This week's winner is Gary Ashley from Kittanning, PA"

Crazy how I won a trivia contest and a free pizza from a place I don't even know where in PA is at. While I was shocked over the win, I forgot about the tag at the end of my trivia answers: "Where the hell is Dravosburg?". Dravosburg was the location of the pizza place.

Brian Krasman of the McKeesport Daily News, after announcing me as the winner:

"Yeah, and Gary also writes 'Where the hell is Dravosburg?' Get a frickin map, moron."

Ironically, I search Mapquest after the show for Dravosburg.

At the same time I was both insulted and honored on local access TV. I'm not sure what means, but I think the 7 other people that were watching the show thought I was a douchebag.

The followup was that Krasman e-mailed me an apology that I accepted, the free pizza coupon was mailed to me, and a few months later the show shut down due to production costs.

maybe cause you gave out too much damn pizza.