someone had the nerve to make this ill-considered attempt of labeling me. what they don't know is i will not, no cannot be tossed into some clicky block of drones, try as you may.

Shabby Chic Social Darwinist (read troy)
This lifestyle is lead by those (read troy) that feel the need to fill their (read troy) lives with the best (read hell yeah). But not the best of everything. They will stop at nothing to acquire a high priced electronic item (i.e. ipod, bmw, powerbook, mp3 car stereo), while wearing the same shoddy clothing (read troy owns one pair of goodwill shorts) for days on end (read 23 days on end). They enjoy conversing with strangers (i.e. you) on uncomfortable topics (i.e. circumcision, sex, basically anything having to do with the penis) and are very free with expressing their (read troy's) opinions, which they (read troy) always (read and i mean always) have. They respect strength (read old spice deoderant) and have no use for the ignorant (read bookpimp) and lazy (read bookpimp again).

it is this kind of adolescent ranting on the internet that gives us all a bad name. it would seem our buddy and pal mr bookpimp has finally, finally hung his web shingle. yeah i know, i feared this day as well. feared the time that bookpimp would learn that it wasn't only people with comp sci degrees and born in odd-dated years on even-dated months who were allowed to have websites and blog incessantly about the inanities of their life. and for the record, whoever enlightened him has some splaining to do.


i'm certain it doesn't take a web designer to assess that you can certainly expect a lot more of this kind of thoughtless prattle each and every day and therefore i suggest you visit michaelcosm frequently and routinely. i know i will to see what kind of libelous things are being said about me and mine.

bookpimp was in town for the weekend and as always is the case with any bookpimp visit, mayhem abounds. day one saw near catastrophe when he almost knocked a half-full thai coffee over while fluffing a pillow on the study futon. since the holy nectar did not fall we need not discuss that gravity of such a blunder. upon saving the teetering mason jar, we eyed one another wondering, hoping that this would be the trip to break the pimp's blooper-ridden nature he is known for.

our hopes were dashed early the next day when BP toppled a full glass of coke, conveniently in my direction, while eating at uncle bill's. the suck thing here is that a glass of coke is only completely full for about 42 seconds when you mix bookpimp and saint louis humidity and obviously this misfire occurred in those first precious ticks of the clock testing my dexterity in avoiding the amazon like deluge sent raging towards me.

tragedy two took place when pimp was getting a drink from the basement food stock and sent an amish churned jar of apple butter careening to it's explosive demise. upon climbing the steps marty was waiting with bucket and mop in hand for him.

other than a second close call with a dinner plate we all have come out of this visit relatively unscathed, physically at least. and upon his departure, i'm thankful for all the unbroken objects in my home and pining for the return of my bestus friend. be well and until next time.

i send my thoughts to:

the englebrecht family who just lost their home and family dog, bacardi, in a fire.

the smart family of utah who are going through the most horrific experience i can conceive.

and, a.w. who is about to go through a very emotional and difficult time in her life.

and the cadres of humans i don't know who are facing and dealing with adversity and trial the likes of that many of us have never seen. take a moment to wish strength upon them and appreciate how little suck, actual life-defining suck, there is in your life.

while i'm going to respect his request for anonymity at this time, buddy james recently found a home on the web doing that whole bloggy thing. on a recent update he was kind enough to recognize your humble host. i'm sure glad michael's name was also in this short list else it would read: influenced by troy and a litany of girl weblogs.



while i personally do not take issue of the noted company in any negative vein and while i'm fine with the amount of grunting and scratching i do, buddy's choice of wording would not serve me well among some of my more testosterone ridden mates. case in point, the other day bookguy and i were going to play tennis and he was displeased with the amount of doddering (his word) i was doing before getting out the door. when i, finally, slid into the seat next to him he looked at me and said: i'd love to know who messed up on the human assembly line and gave you a penis.

what can i write ... reliable help is hard to find.

ever wonder what happens when bookpimp and buddy james are left alone, bored and online over the weekend? allow them to put your whirling mind to rest with their recent creation.

after reviewing our touring schedule, i'm releived i didn't throw my terry cloth thong out after all. especially since the stain is only visible when i'm not wearing it.

sorry bookpimp but it's really not my fault.

two weeks after buying my first ipod, I purchased my second ipod at the apple store in st paul's atrocity of america. this would be because 9 days after buying my first ipod, apple released a newer and bigger ipod for a mere $100 more and as I like to say when dealing in such matters, they're giving them away. So now instead of 5gb I have 10gb of space and instead of having 1000 songs I have 2000.

the first thing marty asked was where i planned on getting the extra 100 bucks. i was happy to report that my wedding ring already drew an impressive $135 on ebay.

i certainly hope i have demonstrated that when i see something i want, need, crave and covet i can whore up with the best of them. grail like in its majesty the shiny bauble now rests in my recently washed and thoroughly exfoliated hand. we've been unduly and unjustly kept from one another, but not again, never again, will i abandon you my sweet. i will carry you in your protective sheath near my heart, clipped at the waist or tucked in the man-purse but you will be on my person at all times. my living will is being adjusted as we speak and as of this moment i will never share my bed with another.

ok bookpimp, i'm done. i'm finally and exhaustively done.

I have recently been told I have a responsibility to my readers. This disclosure closely paralleled my discovery that I had readers. All very exciting.

I was recently telling someone of a recent trip I took to north carolina to surprise my best bud Bookpimp on his 30th birthday. The person I was speaking to turned on me and in a highly exasperated manner proclaimed, "But you said (on your website) you couldn't go and that you were sending him a present, which was going to be late might I add." (12.28.01 entry)

Well yes but all that was a ploy to make pimp think I wasn't going when I really was.

And, just when in the hell were you going to tell us?

Hmm. Soon. I swear. I was just about to. The fact of the matter is on my way there in the airport I overheard this great exchange in the bathroom between a small boy and his father. At that moment I decided to make a photo essay of sorts where I would combine photos from the trip with things I overheard on the trip. My initial plan was to get 30 of each in honor of bookpimp's special day, but alas my friends aren't as stimulating as I initially thought and so we have 15 photos coupled with 15 quotes for a cumulative 30. There is no order or credits given. The order is irrelevant and the orators know who they were which should be enough so Bookpimp is 30 is just a lean collection of images and words which I hope you enjoy at some level.

And, pimp has his present now. And, he seems to like it. although instead I think for a present I could have simply told him that I wouldn't ask him if it feels different being 30, because a lot of people ask that, and there really is no answer, I guess because there really is no question but I guess it does feel different in a sense in that you get asked a lot more inane questions than when you were 29. See you at 40 to see if it's any different than 39.

Bookguy is not Bookpimp, as Sir Chavez thought. and Buddy James is not Man Who Screams Like Woman, which no one has yet thought. but Walt is Mart and Mart is Walt and Walt and Mart, who are the same person, are both female so when i talk about Walt or Mart or even Marty i'm not referring to my gay lover Walt but instead my wonderfully striking wife, Marty and i fully understand if you need to meet Walt as Mart before taking my word on this as Bookguy did because until Bookguy met Walt, the woman, he was torn on my sexual direction, which is left. left for debate that is, given that i'm always talking about this Walt character which i reference almost as much as Bookpimp and significantly more than the misdirected Bookguy but far less than Chavez or Man Who Screams Like Woman or even Martha who is Marty who is Mart who is Walt but Walt is not Bookguy nor Bookpimp as Bookguy is not Bookpimp and vice versa.

Please blame chavez for this, not me, assuming you know who "me" is.

my boy bookpimp turns the big three-oh today. as e-love would say, you are now closer to 60 than you are to your birth. pretty evil, eh?

sorry i will not only miss your gathering tonight, but also sorry my gift is late. i assure you, or am confident, that it will be worth the wait. mail order women are in high demand during the holidays, mail order women with all their limbs at least.

>Many have asked, some have received, but none are sated when it comes to the fabled tale of BirdMan. Always aiming to please I can no longer deny the masses what is rightfully theirs. So I present to the dearmitt.com community the first and only available printing of the happenings and events that transpired on that oppressive July 3rd day on the Arch grounds of downtown St. Louis. Without further delay I invite you to personally experience The Legend of the Birdman.

In that this web site has been crafted greatly for my friends and family, I thought it prudent to introduce some of you to people who are not you (unless you are being profiled) but share a friend in common.

Batting first is Michael Engelbrecht. While many of you may have not personally met Michael...you all know him. Think back to a tale told around campfires and dinner tables of the adult male who was felled at the foot of the St. Louis Arch by a rather persistent maternal bird and I'll think you'll recall meeting, at least, the legend of Michael Engelbrecht.

My best friend, Michael, can now call himself a college graduate. Way to go brother. Walt and I are very proud of you and the diligence and perseverance you showed over the last (radio edit) years. I'm sure you will kick some job-havin ass where ever you may find yourself and hopefully this accomplishment will help you to attain as much humor as one can have while working. We wish you every success, are glad to know you and love you like a slow-jumpin' bunny-rabbit. Kudos my friend.

p.s. you will shortly be receiving our graduation gift via cliff clavin. and, i'll give you a hint...it equals ten bucks for every year you were in school. For outsiders who don't know Mike...It's more jack than you think.