Look at the blog, Larry. Just look at that blog.

This is gonna be about Band-Aids. It's pretty great.

Archive for the ‘Week 3: Passion’ Category

#19. Do I boldly dare to go wordless?

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No. Was worth a shot though. But for this one I am trying to get the photos to be the most important part. So without further ado, enjoy these photos.



Ok. 150 words or less. Readysetgo


My dad has a passion for sleeping. Consequently, I too have a passion for sleeping. Ever since I was… this (gestures about three feet off the ground)… high, my dad’s been hammering into my head how important a good night’s sleep can be.

Frank Sinatra wouldn’t perform unless he had a full night’s sleep. Do you know how I know that? My dad’s told me at least a katrillion times.

Well Dad was right. Frankly, I’ve actually known this for years, and I’ve savored good, hard-earned sleeps since I was a lad. However long ago that might be. This week, though. This week. Two papers, three tests, and five last-minute blog entries. I haven’t gotten more than four hours’ sleep each night.

Thursday it ends. Band-Aids, you can cure me on Thursday. Band-Aids on every snooze button. Band-Aids keeping shut my eyes. Band-Aids sealing up my ears.




But yeah, basically I’ve been jonesing for a good night’s sleep all week, and I felt like ‘Band-Aids as a sleeping aid’ could encapsulate how passionately I want to pass out for thirteen hours or so.


Written by mandudeman

March 2, 2011 at 11:17 am

Posted in Week 3: Passion

#15. If they say why, why… Tell ’em that is human nature.

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Why, why… Does he do me that way?

Catchy, huh. I’m pretty sure that one was about Band-Aids.

So for the record, this is a late-entry passion post, but I’m just getting that out of the way so I can delve into my wonderful, horrible creation. But first, some introductions.

So on Friday night, I was talking to a friend of mine at a party (is that language too nondescript? I could have been chatting up my bud while we kicked it at this ragin’ kegger. Or I could have just as easily been engaging my close companion in conversation during a late-night social gathering), and the subject of Thriller came up. Now, my friend (let’s call him John… because that’s his name. John Hulley. Cool guy) really, really, really likes Thriller. A whole lot. And we were talking about the hand clap that syncs up with the snare on the fourth beat of each measure, because who doesn’t love taking something cool and nerd-ing it up a little bit. But anyway, as it dawned on me just how much passion John held for Thriller, it became clear what I had to do. I had to use his love of music to make a gimmicky Band-Aid blog post.

And yet, how was I to take Thriller-passion and warp it into Band-Aid-passion?

The first step was obvious. Since Michael Jackson wore a single white sequined glove, I had to wear one just like it. Except replace ‘white’ with ‘flesh-colored,’ ‘sequined’ with ‘filled with little holes to let a scab breathe,’ and ‘glove’ with ‘gruesome-looking hand thing.’

There's no way to describe how many paper Band-Aid wrappers are on my floor right now.

I’d like to think John’s passion for music equals my passion for Band-Aids. Specifically, my passion for pasting them onto my skin and then fumbling for twelve minutes trying to take a picture with one usable hand that’s sticky with just so, so much Band-Aid glue.

What do YOU think, hand? Would you say those passions are about equal?

It seems I've gained its approval.



Written by mandudeman

March 2, 2011 at 5:58 am

Posted in Week 3: Passion

#10. In which I demonstrate my total lack of sports knowledge.

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Well, as you know, I’m in the process of getting over some horrible cold-sickness. It’s pretty rough. Thusly, I’d like you, gentle reader, to take everything I’m saying with a grain of salt.

And here’s where our story begins- at last night’s basketball game. As I desperately crammed my car full of equipment in a fever-drenched haze, I saw something- well, not something, per se, but someone. A basketball player. You know, from the game. I honestly couldn’t tell you if this guy played for VCU or George Mason, because, frankly, I was too tired to notice or care. I could (and I will) tell you, though, that this guy had a whole bunch of bandages and bubble-wrap looking stuff taped to his knees. I don’t know if that’s ice, or gauze, or what, but it got me thinking. It got me thinking about Band-Aids.

So here’s my thought process- what is it that makes this guy push himself until he has to wear a whole bunch of crap all over his knees? Is it the same thing that made me push myself until I was cramming my car full of equipment in a fever-drenched haze? Probably. While anonymous basketball-player-man was pushing himself up and down the court, he was either A: pumped and feeling a huge adrenaline rush from George Mason’s twenty-point lead (if he was playing for Mason), or B: doggedly trying to keep his spirits up and milking every last bit of energy in the face of George Mason’s twenty-point lead (if he wasn’t playing for Mason). And he just kept going and going until he had to walk out of the stadium with his knees wrapped in…. a whole bunch of knee stuff. I wonder if he saw me, and could see that I was about five seconds away from collapsing in a sweaty pile of exhausted me-parts. And when he saw me (if he did- and chances are he didn’t) there was some mutual connection where we were both so into the game that we pushed our bodies farther than they’re supposed to go and now are suffering the consequences. That’s kind of a reach, though, in all honesty.

Plus here’s the thing about me on game day (can I call it ‘game day?’ is that some kind of sports cliché? I’m really the last person who should be writing about this)- I get really, really, really passionate (lemme just say passion a few more times so that I can jam the point home with an iron fist of subtlety- passion passion passion) about basketball when I’m actively watching basketball/playing keyboards in a band that’s in a basketball stadium. During that specific period I’ll be cheering and jumping and chanting along with everyone else until I’m just like you, Mr. Basketball-Knee-Injury man. I’ve scarred my hands playing waaaay too rough on my keyboard (that can happen- I swear. And it’s totally not the pansy-est injury anyone’s ever gotten). I’ve been hit with drumsticks/shoes/a mannequin dressed in green spandex in the heat of the moment. I even saw a guy in the band get a bloody nose last game. And do you know what all of those things require? Band-Aids. Passion. Requires Band-Aids. Blog out.


Written by mandudeman

February 16, 2011 at 5:50 pm

Posted in Week 3: Passion