Notes From The Kentucky State Fair:

- There’s something really sad about a bunch of schoolchildren walking around with AARP bags…this isn’t Halloween…its not trick or treating.
- Farmer Fred was once the coolest thing about the Fair…the real Farmer Fred…not that cartoon representation they have now, I don’t care if the old one’s head fell off…glue it back and have some respect for Farmer Fred.
- Cowboy hats…damn.
- Mike Linnig’s tent is expensive but worth it.
- Being drunk at 6pm to the point where people have to carry you is both amazing and disappointing.
- To the “Carny” who asked me if I was “Cruising the Midway for girls?” No. I wasn’t…you dirty gypsy pedophile fuck.
- Wearing a Ramones t-shirt to a concert is not a sin; however, wearing a Ramones t-shirt to a Boyz 2 Men concert is down right ignorant.
- Babies should never have MULLETS, they don’t have any business and they aren’t old enough to party.
- SAFETY TOWN RULES!

Life Without Zero

The mad blogger returns: I'm going to tell you why I'm mad, because the bottom three buttons on my cell phone are broken. This includes *, 0 and #, so just imagine trying to get a phone number from a girl at the club or texting one of your boys valuable information. Check it, the other day my housemate texted me the following: Rob where did you leave the rent money? I replied by texting, Ohiputitunderyournyhatontopofthetv. Kind of hard to read right, you see the zero button is also the spacebar when I text message… Oh and then there is the idea of setting your phone alarm, which I usually set for 10:00am...(beat/ relax R.G) Not this week, this week I've been getting up at 9:59am and the lost of that 1 minute is killing me. Finally, I went to the AT&T store to seek assistance for my zero button problem and guess what they had the nerve to tell me told me? (Sale Lady's Voice) Oh we can't help you here, but call this 1-800 number …wait STOP! How in the hell can I call a 1- 800 number if my 0 button doesn't work? You do the math!
R.G

Anything Phelps can do Isaac can do better

Seeing as how the 29th Olympiad Games are upon us, I felt it necessary to call out this "Michael Phelps" character or whatever his name is and ask what the big friggin deal is. I mean, its swimming, people. Michael Phelps was in a pool and swam for like 3 minutes. Wow. Last saturday I was in the pool for 6 hours. Michael Phelps was sober. I was not. What's with the double cap thing he wears all the time? I was not wearing anything in my pool. Mikey boy was seen swimming in a pool with 8 other guys. I was.....well I wasn't with girls but I was by myself so...... And what's with all these necklaces this guy has? I mean gold is nice but why does he have so many? Fashion Flunder. I have four gold rings myself, two in my ears and two in my junk. And lastly, the speedo. This is the saving grace for this Olympic competitor. It takes a lot of balls to wear one of those things, no pun intended. It doesn't look at all comfortable. To do anything in a speedo in 1: 28 and set world records is nothing to scoff at. Go USA.

-Lil' James

Key to life? Good teeth.

One day. Today. My mother turned 44. When I came home to eat a celebratory dinner with her I found her to be in quite a foul mood indeed. When I inquired as to what had brought on such a sour mood on such a joyous of occasion, all I received was a curt, "It doesn't even feel like my birthday and your sister needs $4000 braces." Now, I never had braces. In fact every time I go to the dentist he commends me for my lovely perfect teeth. I mean I have a really big mouth so there's a lot of space in there so I guess my two front teeth could be closer together. But, it's not my fault I had a fang grow in between my two front teeth. I like to think that's what made me special. Kind of like the source of my mojo. My sister didn't have a fang. Yet, she needs braces. Hmmmm…who's cooler? You decide. But, I digress, in order to cheer my mother up I proceed to move her laptop into the kitchen and watch her cook roast chicken and Yorkshire pudding. A family classic, one of her favorite meals. Thank goodness she's an awesome cook because if she wasn't she'd be eating my world famous toast and cereal with soy milk for her birthday. Really, I think it's the best gift I could give her. Not cooking her dinner and sitting in the kitchen while she cooks her own dinner and packs my dad's lunch (yes, isn't that adorable. True love is real, she packs his lunch every day), and I type away at the laptop trying to come up with a witty way of promoting our sketch comedy show in September. The moral of the story is, if you are going to have kids make sure they are awesome and have good teeth so you don't have a to waste money on braces when you could be buying your first born awesome daughter dance dance revolution for the wii. Secondly, if you are going to have a daughter you might want to teach her to cook so that you don't spend your entire birthday constantly repeating to yourself, "Still making my own birthday dinner."

-Candace

Ta-tas and savings

So this is my first blog with the indicators, and I have nothing interesting to say. As I was sitting up late at night pondering what to write about I saw 12 commercials for "Girls gone Wild". I have a serious problem with these videos. Is it because these girls are being objectified? NO. Is it because these videos are morally corrupt? NO. The thing that I have a problem with is that the people getting rich off of these tapes are the guys behind the camera, which is ridiculous because I know a bunch of guys that would do that job for free. Ladies come on. A wise man once said if you are good at something never do it for free. I say if you have nice ta tas than you get a check or a wad of cash before you go showing them on film... or in my case at least have him buy you dinner. Jewelry works too. I have also done it for stock options. And once for advice on my taxes. Either way, I was getting something out of it, and those girls should have held out for more than t-shirts and Mardi-gra beads. Joe Francis has built a multi million dollar empire on the jugs of American women, and they haven't seen a cent of it; they haven't even been reimbursed for the money they spent to buy those boobs in the first place!! In the future, ladies, make sure you get something in writing- oh and demand to get paid double if you are going to give people a tour of your basement.

-Alaine

Blog-ginity

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You just helped me loose my blog virginity. Thanks. I have to tell you, though, I was very nervous. I didn’t know if it would hurt, or if it would be amazing, if I would cry, or if you would. And now that it’s over, am I finally a woman? I have to say, I feel mostly the same, but somehow different. Like I have a new knowledge. As if I’m immortal, in a way, because this blog will always be here, on the internet, between you and me, even though someday we’ll both be gone.

Now I’m faced with the consequences of this action. What will people say about my blog? I’ve heard that there are those who just sit around and critique blogs all day. The Blogosphere. What’s that? Am I a part of it now? Ohmigod, what if I wasn’t any good? Will word get out in the um, blog-o-sphere? Will I get a reputation? I really should just find my pants and get out of here. Quick! Before word gets out that Lindsey Carter Blogs. What will my mother say?

Look, I’ve had a nice time, but I think I should stick to doing this on stage, at Indicators shows. It’s live and raw and fresh, and to tell you the truth, there is a way better rush. Not that I think that this wasn’t really great, because it was. Don’t you feel bad, or anything. I love new experiences. It’s just…Well, let me put it to you this way. I like it when people watch. I like to watch them watching. It doesn’t matter who it is on stage, either. I just like how the room gets hot and there’s noise and breathing and sweat. It is a little more alive than simply writing a blog. I like interaction. And I like you. Which brings me to the question, if, um, you’ll come sometime to one of our shows. I know what you’re thinking, you are thinking about all you’ve heard about live performances. Well, I’m here to tell you that it doesn’t have to be shameful to see live theatre. It’s a really beautiful thing between an actor and the audience. I am just asking you because I really feel a connection. So what do you say?

-Lindsey

Let's get ready to...well...be quiet and stop fighting...please.

Dear Everyone, I’d like to take this opportunity to dissect one of America’s most perplexing traditions...the 4AM couples street fight...if it’s 4 o’clock in the morning and you’re fighting with your significant other, keep that shit in your house. I don’t need to know that you think your boyfriend is actually a “faggot.” Or that his father is a “faggot” and that they should suck each ohers something or others. And if your girlfriend actually is “Portland Trash,” then she’s probably already aware of that and isn’t impressed by your wealth of knowledge. Plus if your boyfriend is in fact a “faggot” or your girlfriend is in fact “Portland trash,” then you’ve already agreed to set these details aside as you are currently living together. Regardless, why is it then necessary to bring this argument out into the street? And what makes you think that it’s necessary to yell at the top of your lungs? And what stops you from having this argument at 4 in the afternoon. If I knew that everytime 4 in the morning comes around I get in a full-on knock-down drag-out fight with my significant other, I would possibly make it a point to be asleep at that time. If I were a werewolf, I’d know to lock myself in a cage on the night of a full moon...likewise, you should know when a fight is coming, and lock yourself in a cage. Or better yet, lock your significant other in a cage! Either way...some of us have to get up in the morning...so keep it down or I’ll call the cops...AND STAY OFF MY LAWN!

-ben