Dj Steckelberg
Conspiracy theories invade columnist’s life
So I have spent the last few weeks watching season one of “Alias” on DVD. Until I was introduced to this show, I lived a life blissfully unaware of how dangerous this world really is. I am now a fully fledged, grossly unqualified, conspiracy theorist. Around every corner I see shadows, in every speech from the White House I look for clues as to what is really going on.
Young Mr. Steckelberg remains shocked at Super Bowl boobies
Women you should be ashamed of yourselves. I can’t believe that you would let a little thing like biology ruin your bodies. You are disgusting, vile creatures, with no sense of decency. I can’t even believe that you have those things! And when Janet Jackson showed hers off the other night the entire world wanted to wretch.
Young Mr. Steckelberg discovers true love of country … music, that is
I hate country music. I mean really hate it. If it were my neighbor I would never talk to it. I mean, if they talked to me, well, then sure, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to say hi or anything. That’s how much I hate it. Well, Willie Nelson is cool, but that’s it.
Laugh of doom haunts columnist
I think that maybe I was born in the wrong era. When I was but a wee lad, we never worried about directions to things. When we would get a new Nintendo game, the first thing we would do is throw those lousy direction booklets out. After all, we only had a couple of buttons and a directional pad which 98 percent pointed directly to the right.
Hobo Days + Halloween = HOBOWEEN!!
The end is nigh my friends. The end is nigh. Grab your gas masks, your duct tape, steel-toed shoes, safety scissors, “Playboys/girls”, canned food, favorite body part, lap top, ace bandages, guns, knives, salad shooters, rain coats, mittens and underwear. Whatever you need to survive Armageddon.
Weekend disaster proves DJ right
I have been concerned for quite some time that somewhere in the void of the deep dark universe set’s a smoky little bar with a dark booth in the back where a group of semi-nefarious beings dictate the nuances and happenings of peoples lives. Namely mine. This weekend my suspicions were confirmed three ways from Sunday.
Drones overplay Rush misspeak
Houston, we have a problem. I may be taking a huge leap of faith here, but I am pretty sure that anyone who is reading this right now is actually capable of reading. I know I shouldn’t make sweeping generalities like that, but, really, if you break it all down, that’s what I do.
Young Mr. Steckelberg offers culinary advice to sub-par eating establishment
Dear Red Wood Falls Pizza Hut, Congratulations, well done and brrrrravo (make sure you roll those Rs for the proper hoity toity effect). The meal experience we received at your restaurant a couple of weekends ago was remarkable (meaning we can make remarks about it) to say the least.
Young DJ learns from younger TJ
So, you know when you are talking to someone and you think to yourself “this is like talking to a seven-year-old”? Well be careful throwing that judgment around my friends, you can learn a lot from a seven-year-old. They say you can also learn a lot from a dummy but I bet the conversation will be a lot less confusing.
Young Mr. Steckelberg lives through New York blackout
OK, so I didn’t cause the Blackout this summer…I think. But I did have a good time “surviving” this ordeal. We as Americans are funny. It really hasn’t been that long since we didn’t use electricity for anything. Now we depend on it to do everything.
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