You ask me to show you something funny, I'll show you a little kid who fell down.

I'm sure you'll all have a mild (but debilitating) stroke when you see I'm actually back on schedule for my monthly rants, but you'll get over it. Remember people in wheelchairs lead rich fulfilling lives and there are olympics to boot.

Speaking of rants, this month we're going to completely skip over the 'How has Zach been for the past 15-30 days?' section and jump right in to main attraction. Every once in awhile something jumps out and tickles my rant reflex (I think it's just to the lower left of my gag reflex...if you reach my lungs you've gone too far). This is one of those things...it makes writing the ZCCNL SO easy:

First and foremost, I recently had the opportunity to sit down and read the Sunday "Funnies". I say "Funnies" with quotation marks because obviously that title is now used as the loosest meaning of the word. Last I checked the word 'Funny' had something to do with HUMOR. Out of the 17 comic strips, THREE I found humorous, and one was entertaining, but not what I'd call 'funny'. Here's some suggestions I have:

1. Put Garfield to sleep. Seriously. I'm not a Garfield hater, in fact I still have all the treasuries and collections from my childhood and used to find his antics highly amusing...but there are only so many times you can have the vocally-impaired feline steal Jon's dinner, kick Odie off the table or say "I hate Mondays" and have it be a freaking punchline. I haven't seen Nermal in years, at least that would be SOMEWHAT refreshing.

2. Stop the &*%#^@! Political comentary. Ok, scratch that. The BLATANT political comentary. I don't mind in the least when a cartoonist puts a little message in their strips, but when it's spelled out and slaps you in the face like a Pimp asking for his money....BAD!!i!!i!!111!i! If you're anti war, fine. But if you're a cartoonist your job is to entertain me and take me AWAY from the woes of the 'real' world for the fifteen minutes I'm reading the comic section of the paper.

3. All the strips that have two panels and have a lame joke like (Panel 1): "Oop, I left the stove on!" (Panel 2): "Derp!" need to be removed savagely and without remorse. These same strips usually look like Corkey and helen keller's love child doodled it with their deformed dorsal fin-like appendage, so their not only offending my intelligence, they're offending my eyesight too.

4. Can ANYONE tell me what Doonesbury is supposed to be about? I've been reading it for years and I still don't get it. Is it one big ongoing story, so if I missed the very first strip I won't get the rest? Gary Trudeau, give it a point or give it the axe.

5. 'Blondie' without the 'Blondie' character is like T without A. We all connect with Dagwood and his pathetic foibles, but if he's the primary character, why not name the strip 'Dagwood?'

6. Yeah Family Circus is "cute" and family friendly, but it took me five minutes to understand what was going on in the strip I have in front of me right now. I can't even describe it. I'd rather read a page of Cosmopolitan than another Family Circus strip.

I could go on, but I feel I've said enough for now. I severely miss Calvin and Hobbes. Yes, the stories were similar, but there was just enough of a twist on them they SEEMED new and exciting. I know even that strip isn't perfect...Bill Watterson himself even admits the messages about environmentalism is pretty heavy-handed at times, but that strip was as close to perfection as you can possibly get. In an era where all the faimlies in the comics were cookie cutter "Hi honey I'm Home!" types, you had this snotty like S.O.B. with parents who even joked about wishing they'd bought a dog rather than had their kid. Genius.

A plea to Bill Watterson: BRING CALVIN AND HOBBES BACK AND SAVE US FROM THE EXREMENT THAT HAS INFILTRATED OUR NEWSPAPER COMICS SECTION. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, MAKE EVERYTHING RIGHT AGAIN.

Thats it, my rant bag has been filled again. I'll see you next month... and I know you're all on the edge of your seats wondering if I'll do a Christmas rant? Perhaps a New Years rant? Well stay tuned...you're liable to be diappointed no matter what, so keep those hopes high. Your anguish sustains me.

This is Zach as always saying "Please don't add me to your block list."

I've been Smashing Pumpkins before the Smashing Pumpkins were Smashing Pumpkins.

Finally, the ZCCNL has caught up thanks in no small part to this month-ending October Halloween Special! I'm sure your thoughts after reading that sentence range from 'mildly amused' to 'where's that delete button'....but nevertheless I shall press onward, delivering a substandard newletter that will reach sub-humor and sub-sandwiches in no time. As a side note, I prefer both my newsletters and sub sandwiches loaded with cheese...

And for once, I can enter into the brief 'Zach's monthly update' section with some fairly exciting news...since most of you know I got them already, I'll just say Butters and Lexus are doing great...thankfully they already use the litterbox and don't (as of yet) tear up everything they encounter to shreds. The one thing they need to work on is their urge to chew on my nose and what counts as facial hair while I sleep...

I have to say Halloween is one of my favorite holidays...I mean what other holiday's purpose is to hide your appearence and gorge upon piles of grossly unhealthy mass-produced candy items? Awesome. I went sans-costume this year, but I can assure you tomorrow night I will break my diet and eat junkfood all night...yessss everything is falling into place...

Honestly, I think I have as many fond memories of childhood Halloweens as Christmases (Christmi? whatever). Especially the days in grade school when Halloween was a day to do nothing after lunch but file around the school in your costumes. Yes, I vividly remember visiting many a classroom to be paraded around like livestock, allowing our teacher to intoduce us to the other students while no doubt having an underhanded bet founded in the teacher's lounge riding on which small child would soil theirself and burst into tears when seeing the sixth graders' gruesome costumes. The parade I remember the most was Kindergarten...I was a ghost, accesserizing with a massive multi-colored bow tie to boot. I was parading in a first grade classroom (in fact, the first grade classroom and teacher I'd enter into the next schoolyear...I still can't believe I remember crap like that) and as my teacher introduced me as "a ghost ready for a night on the town" I looked out over the students, lifting my arms to sure inspire terror in their hearts...the next thing I knew I was on the ground, having tripped over the leg of a free-standing corkboard. My sheet tangled my legs and I lay paralyzed in a white billowy prison that smelled like Downy laundry detergent. I was quicky helped up by a fellow student, though my spirits (no pun intented) were crushed, also no doubt casuing one of the teachers to loose $80 on the side bet they made on which kid would fall down and hurt themself first, I walked out of the classroom with my head held high. A word of advice to future parents of children wanting to be ghosts for halloween: Though it may look silly and they may protest with fits of rage and defecating...cut eye holes big enough to see out of!!!!! I also remember two Halloweens where I was sick: 1987 I had a bad case of the flu ( though that didn't stop me from going out to get candy in my crayon costume) and 1992 when I had bronchitis for two weeks (poorly choosing a costume covered in fake animal hair), but mostly the memories are fond ones...though why on earth did I demand to be a Ninja Turtle three consecutive years in a row?! Gah.

How can I write about Halloween and not talk about candy? The other 363 days of the year (I'll include Easter but Halloween is the true suger fest) we are told candy rots our teeth and makes us impotent, but Halloween was the day that although we were told we could only have two pieces of candy upon returning home from Trick-Or-Treating, we'd only empty out half of our loot, leaving plenty of our spoils left in our pumpkin pails and pillow cases to sneak back into our room and fall asleep with melted chocolate covering our hands, faces and bedding. It's cliche to mention, but honestly, who DIDN'T have the cool neighbors who gave out full size Butterfingers to children they knew? God bless them eternally, for their place shall surely be assured in heaven.

As we get older Halloween changes from being excited to go Trick-Or-Treating as children, to wanting to go vandalize property as pre-teenagers, to salivating over the party possibilities as high school and college students. Costumes of course drastically change, particularly that of females females..."I'm going as a nun...but it'll be a SLUTTY nun." I had a couple sweet costumes planned out for this year but ran out of time for one, and had no money for the other...but overall I prefer the 'last minute' approach.

Overall Halloween is something for me to look forward to every year, especially now that I have little cousins to watch have fun trick-or-treating, and I'll always have fond memories, ranging from the football halftime in 1997 that fell on Halloween in which the drumline got in massive amount of trouble for disobeying orders, bass drummers in energin bunny costumes, others wearing wigs and whatnot (single handedly exasperating the band director's prostate cancer so I hear), to watching my friend get the tar beat out of him by a neighborhood bully back in '89 (one of the ninja turtle years), and I hope reading this might have jogged some memories in all of you about your childhood. If not, I assume no responsibility for your letdown, and all complaints can be addressed to your mother. If nothing else, I will offer you this advice: All the leftover Halloween candy goes out on heavy clearence November first...

This is Zach as always saying "Please don't add me to your Block List"

P.S. Never trust any children who willingly dress up as anyone from 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy' for Halloween. That is all.

It's Illegal for a School Bus to Drive in Reverse

I can't beleive it's October. No friends, this statement is not a cheap substitute for butter, I simply can't get my head around the fact there's less then three months left in the year. Not that I'm not happy to finally part ways with 2006, however it seems to me time keeps going by faster and faster. Maybe this is yet another thing that happens as we get older...though my money is on some sort of time-altering device created by an insane genius with the lofty goals of universal domination. As a side note that has nothing to do with anything, since we really don't know much about the whole universe, why would anyone really want to be overlord of it? What if some villain finally does succeed only to find out the rest of the universe smells like a porta-potty at a chilli festival in the middle of July?

At any rate, I'm glad I can finally sit down and catch up on the ZCCNL (this is the September edition remember) so I can still maintain the fact I've been writing these annoying things for almost four years straight. Hooray, I'm mediocre!

As most of you already know, I was able to move into an apartment in mid-September...I'm living by myself again and I was able to find a good deal on a two bedroom in a really quiet fourplex...so it's pretty cool. I will miss the Garner-Boegh homestead...even the dilapidated deck and the STD-ridden carpet...but there's a spot in the carpet of my small bedroom that looks like it has herpes, so I do already feel somewheat at home. Other than that it's the same old same old...working, teaching and scaring small children.

I came across a picture the other day and it inspired me to do a segment on the not-so-rare cxreature called Doubus Maximus

Doubus Maximus typically flock in groups of at least six and tend to gravitate towards dance clubs, street corners, and shopping malls if they are not of legal age. They usually are ethnicity-confused and speak a strange amalgamated language that is only barely understandable to bystanders. This dialect differs from group to group, thus making a scientific analysis of the roots of this language nearly impossible...though it is universally accepted that all words that start with "th" is replaced with a simple "d" (ex. "Dis" "Dat" and "Deologian"). This also crosses over into their writing any typing practices.

The physical attributes of Doubus Maximus are highlighted with the accompanying photo. I hope you will find this helpful in finding and identifying Doubes in your local areas.

A: Note the hat barely hanging on the subject's head, tilted in a willy-nilly fashion. The reason for this has no conclusive evidence, however rumor has it that it has something to do with compensating for a sloping brow and other odd cranial distinctions.

B: The standard Doubus Maximus has jewlery refered to as 'bling'. To his credit, this subject has apallingly minimal 'bling' for a Doube. Gigantic sparkling necklaces and rings usually accompany ear and facial jewlery as well.

C: We see the thin child molester mustache and goofy "I'm better than you" smirk usually plastered across the average Doubus Maximus' face.

Overall a Doubus Maximus is generally harmless unless provoked. In this instance, the Doube will generally initiate the confrontation by a verbal onslaught called 'talking trash', and will usually be backed up by at least two of the remeining five members of his group. If you find yourself in this situation, don't worry. Due to the language barrier you probably won't even understand his taunts and jeers. Your best bet is to stare back with a glazed over look, cocking your head to one side like a confused dog.

So remember kids, do your research. One day your great grandchildren might ask questions about the long-extinct subspecies called The Doubes.

I'll be back at the end of the month with the actual October edition of the ZCCNL. Have a good month, and for the love of all that is holy, don't start putting Christmas decorations up yet. PLEASE think of the children.

This is Zach as always saying "Please don't add me to your block list."

You tell on us, we tell on you...thats Ninja code!

And here you all thought you were free and clear of my poorly planned rants for good, didn't you. Well guess what, here I am ready to annoy, offend and possibly entertain. I'm still a month behind on the ZCCNL and eventually hope to catch up with two in one month at some point, but for all accounts and purposes, this is Augusts' edition.

First off the monthly (and quite boring) Zach update:

I remember when I was younger I went with my dad on a job he took, to a 'pond' that required some filtration. This 'pond' was actually made up of cow excrement and my dad had to actually row out to the middle of it in a rowboat to check to make sure the equipment was working properly. I only went a couple times, but I was on edge, nervous to the point of extreme sweating during the entire time, praying the boat would not overturn sending him into the depths of digested grass, the odd frog and old cud skin...thankfully this never happened. Why am I bringing this up? Well it's just an analogy I'm using to paint a picture: At this point in my life, the boat tipped, I waded through some cow poo for awhile, but at least I'm starting to wash it off. After a really stressful late August/ early September I at least have a new place to stay. As we speak I'm moving into my new apartment, a place with tons of room I don't even know what to do with, in an out-of-the-way secluded area I'm sure burglars and hippies avoid. Other than this I'm working and....*sigh*...teaching and writing for BSU's drumline AGAIN.

Now that that little bit of drudgery is done and over with, let's move on to the main event:

I'll pause for you to take a little time to read THIS

.........


I'll assume you actually read it, because anything beyond this point will make no sense unless you have.



So read it.


Do it now.


I'll wait, Eet Eez Faiine.


Now that you REALLY read it this time, I can begin my rant.

Ok, so I'm not against furthing knowledge or experiments of grand designs...but creating mini black holes?!?!?! They openly admit they're tinkering with something THEY DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND. They even admit there's a SLIGHT possibility in planetary destruction...they say it's an infinitely small chance, but even a 1% chance is higher than none! Egad, I hope they don't destroy the world, thats where I keep all my stuff! (old cartoon quote there...a cookie to whoever knows what it's from)

Here's some of my favorite quotes from the article:

"There is dark matter. It is all over the place but we have no idea what it is."
It's matter that is dark, duh. It's also the stuff Nibblonians poop that fuel starships in the year 3000.

"That would be a real paradigm shift - our relegation to a little sheet in a multi-dimensional universe."
There have been movies and TV shows about this. So do these scientists want to travel to these parallel universes just to see what cowboy hat you decided to buy in universe X-9, or do you want to go to all the parallel universes, killing the versions of you in each one making yourself stronger, faster and smarter? The outcome of all these entertaining scenarios each had something to do with destroying the universe somehow...See!? even the hack writers for sitcoms and movies know when something is a bad idea! By the way does anyone else think that device looks like the Starga...I mean FARgate? (don't wanna get sued)

"The fundamental goal of the massive machine is to answer the basic but crucial question of how matter was created at the birth of the universe."
Honestly, do we REALLY need to know?

What it all boils down to is Scientists who are a little TOO smart+too much time on their hands+too large a budget=end of the Earth. I probably forgot to carry the two and get rid of the remainders in that equation, but the end result is retarded no matter how you look at it. This whole device just sounds like something you'd see a villain try to steal on an old 80's cartoon show. Phrases like "We don't really understand", "We don't know", "if the machine behaves itself " and "We are truly journeying into unknown territory" really shouldn't be used in regards to something of this magnitude. Let's assume they're successful and create a little black hole. We have no idea what it would take to destroy one! By definition, a black hole is a region of space that has so much mass concentrated in it that there is no way for a nearby object to escape its gravitational pull! How could anyone POSSIBLY think you can contain something like that?! And why would you WANT to TRY to create something as powerful as that ON a freaking planet?! To just leave things well enough alone is far too logical I guess. Stephen Hawking probably proposed this to prove his theories right, anf they felt sorry for him because he was in a wheelchair. And talked like the Robears ffrom the Thundercats cartoons.

Conclusion: The smartest people in the world are also the dumbest.

This is Zach saying, "Please don't add me to your block list"

There's nothing quite like an Enema to wake you up in the morning

"July has come and gone without a trace of a ZCCNL"

Yes, yes I know all of you have expected to see this sentence running accross the bottom of your screen while watching CNN, but I suppose things like wars, city-sweeping power outages and who won the all you can eat hot dog contest in Wangsville Texas takes precidence.

I apologize for my tardiness, however my July was wrought with epic struggles of teaching camps, illness, ankle injuries, more illness and saving the world from the dark wizard X'thxilngd as he attempted to use the +2 runestone of ammonia to make all of mankind kneel to him. On top of that exhausting debacle I've been searching for a new place to live when our lease expires on September 1st.

This time of year my mind is always on other things and it's hard for me to find something sufficient to waste my time ranting about, so I guess I'll talk about the emergency room.

When I injured my ankle three weeks ago I attempted to walk it off in a macho fashion, hobbling up and down stairs to attain frozen meats in leiu of an ice pack hiding the fact my foot was three times its normal size. I even went to sleep (hey, don't give me that dirty look, I elevated the injury and put frozen meat on it, what else do you want?!). Then I woke up around 2:30 to severe foot cramps and insane swelling. I tried to get up to go into the bathroom but I couldn't even stand on it. I was sure it was broken. After uttering something anti-semitic under my breath, I debated whether or not to call an ambulence. Rather than risk waking my roommates and my great unkle next door who keeps a loaded shotgun under the couch he sleeps on, I decided to bite the bullet, admit I was hurt and called my dad who took me to the hospital.Now, I figgured going to the hospital at 3am would be a cakewalk. In, x-ray, out bada boom bada bing as the hitmen say. but of course I was mistaken. I was wheeled in (yes I know the irony of me being in a wheelchair, laugh about it while you can) and had to fill out paperwork and answer a myriad of questions before even seeing a doctor. I thought the examination was the doctor's job, not the person at the desk! Luckily I've been blessed with a fairly high tolerance for pain so I was able to ignore the throbbing, swollen mass that had been my left ankle mere four hours prior while I scrawled down my address, social security number and whether or not I prefered blondes to brunettes, and Coke or Pepsi. But I can only imagine what kind of hoops people with worse injuries had to go through! Taped to the desk was a chart. On the left side was a smiley face with a huge grin smeared across it's white, pasty face like it had just wone a game of hide the sausage. On the far right was another "smiley" face, this one looking like it had just zipped himself up in his pants...in he middle was every emotion in between the two. So my question is....if a person is in enough pain that they can't talk, do they really need to waste time pointing to a chart of smiley faces how they feel? "Hmmmm I'm not sure if I'm the smiley that looks like a nervous Rchard Nixon....or is it the one two to the right of that one that appears as though it messed it's pants after eating at Cafe Ole'"? It boggles the mind. Unless said chart is for mute or deaf people, then I think we'd have a great reality TV show on our hands. "View the epic struggle of the orally impaired as they visit the emergeny room!" I'm sure Fox would pick it up. Oh and another thing is that I didn't see any braile smileys anywhere, so apparently the emergency room hates Hellen Keller. "One 'waters' for no pain, two for badly hurt!" If there's a bad Hellen keller Joke I've never heard it...The rest of the Emergency room visit was fairly routine...you know, doctors prodding you at various places:

"Does this hurt?"
"No."
"Does this hurt?"
"No."
"How about....THIS!?"
"***Much swearing and cursing of doctors' deceased family members deleted***"

Turns out the foot was really badly sprained, not broken...though that didn't change the fact I felt like Oprah had just stepped on my foot. At least I got Vicodin out of it. However, I only took it for a couple days and didn't like the way it made me fall asleep while playing Solitaire at work, passing out in mid-sentence...and thinking I was Condoleeza Rice for six hours was just a little bothersome. So count this as the newsletter for July. I'll be back at the end of the month, probably to complain about the fact there was no way I was going to instruct BSU's drums again this fall, yet somehow I let me wallet talk me into it.

This is Zach, as always saying "Please don't add me to your block list"

Sure, mock my beans!

So I've been sick the last three days and as I came to from one of my delerium-induced comas, waking with the strange scent of Jack Daniels, Cat pee and Orville Reddenbacher's popcorn burned into my nostrils (you know, like Jackie Gleason's shower) with visions of Bender from Futurama in the midst of fisticuffs with Al Pacino, I realized I really wish I had a pet Dinosaur. Then my fever broke, I lay in a puddle of sweat, returned to my proper age and rued the day Christopher Columbus brought disease to this continent. I dunno why people need to reply on acid trips, all they need to do is get sick...

So, surprisingly enough I've received some "letters" from some of my "favorite" "people" from downtown, asking for advice via the ZCCNL (just play along ok?). In an attempt to help these poor souls better themselves, I thought I'd reply...with a little bit of Zach flavor thrown into the mixx. Here we go:

"ZCCNL,

Yo, my biznatch won' give me teh proper rezpekt I dezerve, holmes! I swear at her non stop, tri to make her happee by forcing her to do everyt'ing I want to do and she just won' git the fact that SHE'S lucky I spend time with HER! Any sujestuns on how to train her better, dawg?

-DJ Happy MaCalliSTARR"

DJ,

First off my friend you need to stop talking like you're retarded, wear your hat the way it was meant to be worn, and get a belt for your pants. Your female friend also may not be impressed with your soiled wifebeater, "rugged" fu-manchu and your general Kevin Federline-like outlook on life. No offense but maybe you need to stop hanging out at the Main Street Bistro and spend more time at the library learning to read and write? Just throwing it out there buddy. Best of luck giving yourself a complete overhaul in order to be a worthwhile human being.


"ZCCNL,

Hey man, just dropping out of the clouds long enough to ask why no one will accept my peace n' love lifestyle! War is wrong, man...government's wrong man. How can you sit there when the Man is killing baby seals and corrupting us with their never-ending conspiracies and lies?! Everyone needs to like, totally hold hands and dance around flower beds, drive electric cars and abandon their lifestyle of shoes and the world will be a happier place, man.

Thanks man.

-Moonbeam Potsoil"

Moonbeam:

I think the main thing you need is to wake up from your drug trip, take a shower, get a job so maybe you can buy some deoderant and clothes that arent's made entirely of hemp, feed your dog something that isn't made of gutter rat and contribute a little to the world you love so much. Maybe that will calm you down enough to realize that while you may mean well spreading conspiracy theories and being politically involved preaching....errrrrrr ....educating' (no wait, it is preaching. Disregard previous word exchange) to all us lamans about how the government is evil and taking away our civil rights, you're just annoying those of us who have the right NOT to care. Personally I have more important things to stay up late at night worrying about...you know, like why Joanie REALLY loved Chachie. I've said it before, but If you really want peace let's start a nuclear war, bomb the crap out of everyone and then when no one's left there will be peace! Hooray!


"ZCCNL,

Hey there, like, my boyfriend like totally doesn't appreciate me! He, like, can't see the fact I, like, totally see past his faults, past his, like, history of cheating on me and past his tattoo-ed, leather jacket wearing exterior and into what I can, like, totally change him into so we can, like, totally live happily ever after! What can you, like, totally do to help?"

Bar B."

Bar B.:

Well dear, it seems to me like this is a classic case of the stoopids. Girls like you complain but don't understand you can't change someone, so you gotsta ditch 'em! Try looking past the exterior for once and look at the interior you DON'T have to change. If you need someone to slap you back into reality, please let me know. My slapping knucles haven't been brought into use since '88.

Alright thats really all I have time and/or patience for right now, besides I feel another fever-induced coma coming on.

This is Zach, reminding you all to feel sorry for hm and don't add him to your block list since he's pathetically sick.

Squirrels have a high Mortailty Rate in Boise

I'm back to annoy you all with a renewed vigor for ranting, raving and giving backrubs! No need for the obligatory 'what Zach has been up to for the last thirty days', as it's pretty much been the same-old same-old, just working, teaching and throwing rocks at toddlers from the cover of darkness as usual. What? I've never been to Maine!

Ok, so I know you all are expecting me to write some long winded article about how the Special Olympics are going to be held in Idaho in 2009...but I'm bored with being amused by handicapped people. Honestly it was more amusing to me to see you all get excited about that stuff around me than the actual people themselves. I'm not saying I won't end up with a handi-capable child or that I'm not going to hell because karma certainly works...but do not worry eet eez faiene.

As I sat pondering what I should write about for the month, I originally decided to park myself on a bench downtown and do a bit of people watching and write about the zany adventures of the mentally challenged guy on the corner that asks for donations and slaps the people in the face who actually gives him money...but it rained for like a friggin' week and I was sick for two days and it didn't happen. Maybe next month. Yeah right...I've also been saying I'm going to do another batch of observations and bring back the 'You're Nothing but a Failed Abortion' awards but those ideas have nary found purchase. No friends, I pondered then pondered a little longer and realized I've never written about America's "Delightfully Tacky Yet Unrefinded" chain of reastauraunts...

Hooters.

Boise finally jumped on the Hooters train a year ago and I have eaten there many a time. The wings are awesome and the company is great, but the real reason to go? Watch the retards who think the waitresses are "totally into them".

Yes, not unlike europe's red light district and seedy strip clubs, the waitresses use their assets and charm to get guys to give them tips. Thankfully I'm wise to their li'l scheme and am immune to their wiles. In fact, I guage their tips according to how much they try to pimp my cash from me. The best tip I ever gave was to a waitress who refilled my water once and never came back. However, the waitress who attempted to make small talk with Matt and I and touched my shoulder got a dirty look and a half peso. I've evaluated this whole situation as well...the times I've gone with just male friends the waitresses turn their prostitution levels on high, but when I go with female friends (which is most of the time...thanks Liz! Wyngz n Bubz! Wiiine!) they typically leave me alone.

If you've never been to Hooters, let me paint a scenario for you: You walk in the front door and are seated by a server similar to any other eatery, but the similarities stop there. After you wait fifteen minutes for your waitress, finally order (slowly and using small words so she can understand you), and wait fourty five minutes for your food to arrive, you attempt to enjoy your meal when a waitress asks for everyone's attention because it's someone's birthday...who of course has been forced to stand on a chair and dance while a song is played...and if he stops dancing he has to buy everyone a drink! Derp!!!! As you try to ignore this and eat your $20 plate of wings it becomes painfully clear you have been seated under one of many speakers positioned around the restauraunt when YMCA is blared at 8,000,000,000 decibels while the waitresses dance and sing, play with hoola hoops and throw beach balls around with little girls who were taken there by their abusive drug dealer parents. The waitresses are actually forced to dance and heaven help them if they don't. Liz and I watched as a waitress was attempting to serve a paying customer during the YMCA 'happy fun hour', only to have the manager stick his head out from the kitchen and yell "Bambi! Get your @$$ out here and dance!". 'Bambi' then hung her head in shame as she plodded out to join her co-workers in cheesecake entertainment like the indentured servants they really are.

Overall, I reccommend going to Hooters at least once just for the experience. Personally I love the wings and I have a picture of me from last fall, mouth full of meat with grease and bleu cheese dressing covering my hands and face as proof. There is an episode of South Park called 'Raisins' that parodies Hooters and is spot on to the dining experience...phrases such as "I'm glad you guys came in, everyone else here is such a loser...but you guys seem really cool!" and "Hey sweetie, come back and visit me again real soon ok?" is commonplace, as is physical contact and general whoring. So go out, take a group of friends and see for yourself. It definitely beats shoving broken glass up your butt and getting into a bathub full of lemon juice.

This is Zach, happy to be back saying "Please don't add me to your block list"

P.S. Thanks to Sarah who said the great quote I stole and used as the subject for this month's ZCCNL!

Bush Taps Dirk

Since I've been getting emails about the lack of a newsletter for a week and a half now, I figgured I should at least send out something.

So, I hope and pray everyone else had a good month, because I had some of the worst four consecutive weeks of my life...no I'm not going to talk about it because 1) It will just make me madder and 2) It will make me say a wide variety of words that shouldn't be said in front of members of my family...so let's leave it at that.

I really don't have much to rant lightheartedly about, in fact if I even tried I'd just end up getting extremely pissy and say things that would offend literally everyone on my list...so I think it's a good idea to let the ZCCNL take a breather for April...perhaps I'll be back in May to talk about retarded people, midgets and all the other things that just add more fuel to my already staggering amount of hell points.

Good day sirs and madams.

Add me to your block list if you want.