Sunday, September 24, 2006

Witz Pickz: The Sabbatical Trilogy (and self-serving pickz!)

A trilogy of very short films by First Sight Productions including writing and acting by Kris Boustedt, Lindy Boustedt, Thomas Brown, and Witz. CHECK THEM OUT!

Watch for "Couples Therapy" coming soon!


Tuesday, September 19, 2006


Imagine me beginning this post with a deep sigh as I collect my thoughts like a nerd collecting pogs on his birthday. Imagine I'm collecting these thoughts from a brain which has recently been shaken to it's very core and the experience that follows will be even worse than the movie The Core. Now imagine that this could happen to you-- with nothing more than a tablespoon of cinnamon, a ten dollar bill, and a little bit of peer pressure. You can stop imagining-- ALL OF THIS IS REAL!

"I bet you ten bucks you can't swallow an entire tablespoon on cinnamon!" my once-friend-now-arch-enemy said to me last saturday night.

"What nonsense. Of course I can-- I can do anything-- except eat ten saltines in a minute, those bitches is dry," I reply, stepping up to the challenge-- to my destiny.

"Alright, let's do this," My Nemesis says to me and I jump up from the couch and make my way into the kitchen. Little did I know that a group of eager ill-wishers would follow suit. When we get there, we're surrounded by a hoard of prank crazy jackels. I look at the teaspoon, then at the tablespoon. My Nemesis speaks, "I think we might have only ever done this with a teaspoon,"

"Let's go tablespoon," I say, and flash a ten dollar smile to the crowd. The ten dollar bill is placed on the counter, and the bet is on.

Now imagine this scene, not like it's in your mind, but like you mean it, like it happened-- which it did-- on saturday night, this unexpected disaster:

Outside-- it's dark, we're on the porch. The moon blocked by the hordes of onlookers and an ego a mile high. A tablespoon of cinnamon-- not to make the medicine go down, but to shut up this Soon-to-be-Nemesis and to prove that God made man mightier than a dose of the brown dust-- Also it was for ten dollars. A hero's fortune in green crispies. Sunglasses on, cameras blazing, Bonnie and Clyde, Thelma & Louise, The Natural.

Before the moment happens I should tell you where I'm coming from here.

"So what, this is like that saltines challenge?" I ask. "Yeah, like that," I'm told.

"So what, it's gonna make my throat dry, then I'll drink some water?" I ask. "Yeah, like that," I'm told.

My gum of choice in the fifth grade was Cinnaburst and I thought I'd tamed the wild. Well Cinnaburst don't know shit. The whole "burst" family of gum should be kicked off the market. Cinnaburst is for pussies*.

I enjoy both cinnamon toast, cinnamon toast crunch, and cinnamon sticks in my tea if I were ever to drink tea. Cinnamon appears to be a harmless-- nay-- delicious spice. Well cinnamon IS a spice. A spice so frightening that Scary Spice should have been renamed Cinnamon Spice in order to actually show how "scary" she really was. I, for one, would understand the reference. Now here comes the fury.

Last week I asked Crack vs. Heroin. I would rather pick one of those over what follows.

Back to the porch-- the crowd, the money, the hunnies, and that deadly tablespoon of cinnamon delight. Here's what happened:

The crowd cheers, I throw back the spoonful and before it even hits my senses I'm coughing, choking, tearing up, and spitting. By the time the burning sensation in my throat hits, i'm lying on the grass burping, coughing, forcing myself to throw up as much of the burning blockage in my throat, but it won't all come up. It's stuck. BURSTS OF CINNAMON are in my throat, my nose, my nasal passages, burning, shrieking, and infuriating my senses. I am at its mercy. I am on my knees. I must be delivered from this cinnamon induced hell.

The crowd is laughing, thinking this is funny like people think Two and a Half Men is funny, then they are worried (like me when people think Two and a Half Men IS FUNNY), then bored, then inside, as I burp and sputter out as much of the now mudlike atrociousness. My throat is dry and coarse. Pain ripples down my throat as I try to swallow, but the cinnamon doesn't move. It simply laughs. For the next hour and a half, I stand over the sink, gasping, coughing, swearing I'm alright, then coughing up a fruit-by-the-foot length of cinnamon mucus. When I'm not gagging, i'm blowing my nose to relieve the intense pressure and firery pain I'm feeling there, and with each blow comes chunks of black cinnamon snot. My first thought is "I have to snarf some milk," which should tell you where my brain's at, but I don't quite know how and when I check, we're all out of milk. That's the test they should give comedians before awarding them a tv show or SNL spot-- make a dude with cinnamon flowing through his nasal passages, who can't swallow and is praying that he can throw-up more cinnamucus LAUGH. And not just laugh-- LAUGH so hard he sends the milk he is drinking up through his nose. Ready? Go! Ok-- King of Queens. Ready? Go! Ok-- The Daily Show. Ready? Go! Oops-- sorry, Mind of Mencia, time to go home.

It took until the next morning to almost heal up. To stop the dry-pain of my throat, to get all the cinnamon out of my nose. If i'd drank some molasses I could have pissed maple syrup onto some pancakes-- also, I clearly have no idea what goes into maple syrup...or what molasses are...or how piss works...-- I'm thinkin sugar and maple trees for the first part, magic goo for the second and however I want it to, but less and less effectively as time passes for the third.. I'll check the wikipedia later. After my feverish sleep, I woke up feeling about 50% and soon fell asleep for 14 hours through the night into the next day. Cinnaburst gum-- fuck that shit. Cinnamon. That's the crazy fire powder of doom. That's the ego-breaker. That's the harmless kitchen ingredient that can send a Herculian hero to the floor faster than Xhibit to a beat up white girl's jeep. Witz DOES NOT pick this cinnamon imposion. Witz certainly does not.


*Not literally: I am not responsible for any cinnaburst crystals entering the bloodstream through the thin lining of the vaginal tissues, nor any resulting pain, highs, or extreme living which follows.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Witz Makes the Tough Pickz: Heroin or Crack?

Ooph-- tough break, you stumble into an alley one night after clubbing and get assaulted by two gigantic dudes, each with a gun in one hand and a drug in the other. One guy has heroin and the other has crack and if you don't try one, they'll shoot you (they're just lonely drug addicts tryin' to make a new friend). Which one do you pick? Heroin? Crack? I'll give you the information you need to make the right decision-- and as always, I'll do it by exclusively using The Wickipedia.

Heroin: More commonly known as diacetylmorphine, heroin is a highly addictive drug that people are able to develop a tolerance for more quickly than other drugs. This results in a) having to pay for more and more heroin, and b) dying from a massive overdose! Heroin was invented at St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in Britain in 1874 by C.R. Alder Wright (The CRAW to his mind-blown groupies). Up through 1910, heroin was marketed as a morphine substitute, PLUS, a cough medicine for kids! "Mom, i'm feeling kinda sick..."...."Here ya go, son, shoot this heroin."..."Fiiine, I'll get the tie-off."

In reality, heroin can be taken all sorts of ways. When taken orally, it has the same effects as morphine. Same goes for when you smoke it or snort it, and usually the effects kick in within 15 minutes. When taken intravenously via A NEEDLE, however, the drug gives, "a rush and euphoria within 7 to 8 seconds." (The Wickipedia) Gee...which one sounds more enjoyable/dangerous...

Withdrawal syptoms for heroin can start within six hours depending on tolerance and dependency and among all the usual issues (nauseau, aching, fever, sweating, goos bumps) heroin boasts a unique symptom called "itchy blood."

So here's heroin:

What: Euphoria
How: snorting, eating, smoking, or best via A FUCKING NEEDLE!!!
Who: Rock Stars, homeless people
Cool Nick Names: chiva, dope, diesel, skag, smack, black tar, horse, junk, jenny, brown sugar, dark, and H.

Crack: Crack-- short for crack cocaine, but referred by most street hustlas as "Coc-H+Cl– + NaHCO3 → Coc + H2O + CO2 + NaCl" is a cheap form of cocaine. Basically, the chemical reactions are that of cocaine, only they are cut more impure with more household items, and result in a more toxic, less "pure" high. Nicknamed "Crack" because of the noise the water makes when it is boiling the substance, the drug is popular because it "offers a strong cocaine experience in small, low-priced packages (wikipedia 2006)," which coincides entirely with the reason I enjoy midgets! You can buy crack in nickel bumps, dime rocks, boulders, and even slabs if you have a valid costco membership card. As The Wikipedia states, "Crack cocaine was extremely popular in the mid- and late 1980s in a period known as the Crack Epidemic." Crack is both popular AND an epidemic. That's similar to how AIDS is pretty popular these days, and the Tween Epidemic is sweeping America.

Crack can be freebased and inhaled or smoked out of a pipe that is affectionately called a "Crack pipe." This allows for a relationship to be formed between the pipe and the owner, allowing for emotional connections and naming to take place. What will you name your crack pipe if you go down this road? Don't name it "Sweet Delicious" though-- that's what I call mine. When taken, crack usually is felt immediately and the effects only last between five and fifteen minutes. As for the effects, "The initial signs of stimulation are hyperactivity, restlessness, increased blood pressure, increased heart rate and euphoria. The euphoria is sometimes followed by feelings of discomfort and depression and a craving to experience the drug again. Sexual interest and pleasure can be amplified. Side effects can include twitching, paranoia, and impotence, which usually increases with frequent usage (wikipedia)." WOOO! Now we're talkin! Euphoria and twitching/paranoia? Fuck yeah crack! But don't let me sway you-- here's the lowdown:

What: Euphoria, paranoia, twitching, discomfort, impotence
How: Freebase/Pipe Smoking
Who: (crack)Whores, (crack)Heads, Lil John.
Cool Nicknames: rock, and when mixed with other substances while smoked: "hype", "shake and bake",a "turbo" "SnowCaps", "B-151er", a "cocoapuff", a "dirty" a "woo", or "geeking."

So those are the facts unlucky drug-buddy in the alley. It's a tough call, but in the end you'll have to make a decision or it's all over for you. In this unique instance, life ends unless your drug life begins. So get excited! There's a lot to offer in these two little wonders, built on toxins and addiction, but also on community, caring, and sharing-- uhp-- but don't share your heroin needles!

So which does Witz Pick? Well, it's a really tough decision. But under the circumstances, and putting my personal fear of needles aside, Heroin it is! The euphoria and rock star life sets it apart from the easy-going free-wheeling crack whore lifestyle which crack takes pride in. It'd also be better to die and have people say, "He OD'd on heroin" than "He died in a pile of his own excretions, begging for one last nickel bump of some shake and bake....He also liked soccer." So it was a tough one, but heroin wins out. Witz has made the tough pick-- but what would YOU choose?

Crack Goes Great With Witz's Breakfast Blitz,

Witz DOESN'T Pick: Pluto Not Being A Planet

Pluto is no longer a planet. Phew-- glad we got that one sorted out, it was almost too easy to NEVER THINK OF PLANETS EVER IN MY DAILY LIFE. Is this what we're doing with our resources now? Going back to check-up on our old categorizations? Really? Last I checked, NASA had blown at least four Mars Rover Projects (don't blame the Transformers), and haven't quite mastered SENDING PEOPLE INTO SPACE! Our spaceships shed foam, plastic, and metal on their way into space, but we're worrying about if Pluto is a planet or not. Guess what? Nobody cares. What's next? "Not only is Pluto not a planet, but we're seriously suggesting somebody look into Phyllum, and see if it still applies between Kingdom and Class..." EFF OFF NAAASAAA-- You have had ample time to put me in a hovercar, a space station, or to invent a hyperdrive that sends a monkey at light speed all the way to the rock that may or may not be a planet named Pluto. Why is it that we know how a space-fighter jet and space station look, but we don't know how to build one? LACK OF AMBITION. Stop going back to check your work when you don't have your shit together on more important topics.