Tondar's Daily Rant

Prepare yourself for the writings of Tondar the Destroyer, Baron of Atlanta, Rightful Heir to the Throne of Spain, from whom all babies come. As his will be blogged, so let it be done.

Saturday, September 11, 2004


So Ole Tondar finds himself just chillin' on another Saturday night. But in a way, it's alright. Since January I have had 3 homes and 3 jobs. Maybe it's old age, but with all this transition I have no urge to head out and run shenanigans in Atlanta. I'd actually prefer a night of Johnny Walker and video games to the effort necessary for a night on the town. As Margot said, we are only given so many party days before we have to hang it up. The older I get, the more this becomes self evident. With the retirement of 308, the marriage of Pigpen and Brado, and Tondar taking to Hotlanta, things are definitely changing and really the only thing left to do is to grow up. Though of course, the big question is, when exactly does that happen? I'm not really sure anybody knows the answer to that question. So instead of trying to figure out that mystery of life, I will do what I do best, play video games and drink scotch. Scotchy Scotch Scotch...mmmmm Tondar loves Scotch.

Wanna avoid the Freshman 15? Well the AJC
has some health tips to keep our freshmen healthy and thin. Personally, I didn't have to worry about gaining weight. I ate what I wanted and between walking to class and cigarettes, I was able to lose 15 pounds. If they wanted to make this story a bit more interesting they should have come to Ann Arbor, to interview some of the trolls.

AJC: Are you worried about gaining the Freshman 15?
Troll-Girl: *SNORT* Got any goat?

AJC: What are you planning to do to avoid the Freshman 15?
Hippy Girl: Ugh! Frankly, I don't care. In a male dominated world where girls
are throwing up to look like Britney Spears, I'm happy with my body. And you should be too. I don't need a man to tell me how I should look. I don't need MTV to tell me that* Hey! Where you going? I'm not done yet. Ugh! Corporate America is SO rude!

AJC: What do you think of dorm food?
Hottie: It's not very good but I don't need to eat that much anyway! Tee hee!

AJC: Looks like you already got a head start.
Biggun: I hope you were done talking to the last girl. She was tasty. Oh, by the way, I'd like to give a shout out to Dumbs and Mayor McCheese. I'm still hungry!

From Pigpen...

"So a pirate walks into a bar with the ships wheel around [his groinal
region] and the bar tender says what's the deal with that thing. To which
the pirate reply's "Yarrgh it's drivin me nuts"

Tondar's Coworker: Co-worker: Girl, did you pooty-pooty?

In honor of Popeye's 75th...

I posed the question to Seth, would you rather fight Popeye after a can of spinach or try to turn Bugs Bunny into rabbit stew?

"Bugs, most definitely.

Popeye would wind up those weirdo-big forearms then bop me one jilly with a fist as big as his head so I'd be either face-planted into the cracked earth or left with my head nobbing up and down like a bobblehead doll in fast forward.

Bugs is all psychological - he'll let you get close to getting him in the oven only to pry victory from your grasp by convincing you your mother's on the telephone or something. I'd be smart; I'd call ACME.

I never understood why Elmer Fudd and Wiley Coyote didn't just trade nemeses. Bugs' specialty is getting away from foolish hunters, not dodging gadgets. You can't get him with a shotgun! He'll just pull your barrell through his network of rabbit holes until it comes out of another hole right behind you or something. But what's he got on the Super ACME Rocket Roller Skates? Huh? On the same note, no amount of
rocket-propulsion is going to let you catch the road runner - at least not without wracking up a fearsome Mojave medical bill and over-contributing to the erosion of the Eastern California badlands. But stick Elmer Fudd in the middle of the highway with a sawed-off double barrell spread shot and BAM! poultry for dinner."

Of course Seth, you know you would never be able to outsmart Bugs. It's impossible, even if you didnt believe your mom was on the phone he would find some way to warp space-time and place you in the oven. In a way it would be like choosing sides against Jesus. No matter what happens you couldn't win. Bugs like God could warp the universe anyway to make the shotgun go off in your own face.

At least on the brightside you could survive the blast with only temporary hair loss and a blackening of the skin, in addition (Im assuming), to an amount of pain that would make you stagger and talk like a hobo after a trip on the Nighttrain.

This morning the kids from Comcast swung by and hooked up my internet. It's fast, and always connected, so look for Tondar to be blogging a bit more often. In the meantime, it seems that ole Tondar isn't the only one back. Check out my favorite radio station at it's new location:

Wednesday, September 08, 2004


Once again I've found another case where real life would make a much better movie than anything Hollywood could ever imagine. Check out the Story of Julian the Apostate. He was the last emperor in the Dynasty of Constantine, but ironically sought to re-establish paganism in the Roman Empire. He fought battles from France to Persia, and became Emperor after surviving a rivalry with his emperor-cousin Constantius. In the end, he was eventually undone by his own character dying dramatically at the hands of the Persian cavalry. The script practically writes itself!