The Most Excruciating Adventure: Socializing at a Wedding Reception

What a miserable ordeal, fellow adventurer!

When two people fall in love, sometimes they make the mistake of getting hitched. But it's a glorious mistake, fellow adventurer! Marriage is the ultimate expression of blah blah blah and when a man and woman enter into it, blah blah blah. 

But while weddings are wonderful for the bride and groom, tradition doesn't take into account the pain and agony that everyone else has to go through. The most trying ordeal for everyone is of course the dreaded reception.

The gift table, which puts a material value to your love for the bride and groom

The first step of the reception process is walking past the gift table and realizing that you brought nothing. The trick here is to glance at the table once and then rush past it in the hopes that no one will notice your lack of gifts. If you stand around looking at the tags on the gifts, everyone will know that you're thinking of stealing their gift and they will get real angry.

A line of people with inexplicably sweaty palms

Once you've managed to make your way up to the handshaking portion of the line, enjoy those first couple of handshakes with the father and sister of the bride, who you've never met. When the father of the bride asks if you and your date are married, tell him, "No." This leads to the greatest bit of awkward small talk ever exchanged: "Well, this is what you have to look forward to." Look at your date and smile awkwardly.

The happy couple, being happy

When you get to the couple, wait for the bride to realize where she knows you from (it's from several visits to the groom's home). Then give her some cryptic advice. For example: "You'll have to watch this guy!" Because apparently he's prone to running away and/or stealing things when you aren't looking.

FUN TIP: The more unsettling the cryptic advice, the more opportunity you have to plant the seed of doubt in the bride's mind. Write down some real zingers before you go.

Give the groom (your cousin) a manly hug and reference some moment from the bachelor party ("Glad you got all cleaned up!" "You too." "Only barely!" "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!").

Now escape the line and head straight for the cheesecake.

The single American male: A portrait of depression

A quick word to the single adventurer at the reception. Remember watching all those chick flicks 

(because you are a chick or because you thought doing so would somehow make you more attractive to girls (it didn't)) where two people, complete opposites, meet at the reception of their friends? This will never happen for you.

REMEMBER: It will never ever happen.

Find solace in the fact that the cheesecake is delicious and leave once the sappy music starts playing and everyone starts cuddling up close. It will only drive you down deeper into the dark crevice of depression...

DANCING?! YES, PLEASE!

If you find yourself at a reception where dancing is a thing (because apparently that's still a thing that people do), use the excuse that you have to take pictures of the dancing to avoid actually joining in. 

REMEMBER: Your date probably wants to dance, but don't give in to what they want just because it will make them happy.

The groom, dancing with someone who is not the bride (scandal)

After the band has played the sixth or seventh song, the bride's sister will inevitably have a guitar and a song (or two) in her heart. Listen to the first song (because it's courteous (and because she's actually pretty good (actually))). But once the second song starts, head for the car in the hopes that you, date in tow, won't get stopped by your relatives so that they tell you that you're next and ask when you're planning to get married to your date, who is probably far less uncomfortable than you think she is because you're projecting your own insecurities on her (wipe your forehead, you're sweating).

Conclusion: Adventure Accomplished! Also, only bring a date to a reception if you're a true adventurer who is willing to suffer through the terrible ordeal of introducing a girl to your family.

Go to, fellow adventurer!

The Dead Letter Office: What I should have said to those who wished me a Happy Birthday

Dear friends, family, and acquaintances (who I have lost touch with (by laziness on my part)),

Thank you for the birthday wishes (even the ones that made my mother cringe (maybe I should get new friends (just kidding (maybe I should be glad I have friends at all)))). I'm glad to have you in my life (though I don't express that (because we never talk (and I can hardly blame that on you (you're so busy (relatively (I don't even have a job)))))).

It's been a good twenty-four years (I hope (I haven't really asked for outside opinions (please don't tell me (unless you think I really need to know (even though I don't want to)))))! Let's hope it'll be many more (at least, I hope you hope so (but it's cool if you're indifferent (mainly I just hope you don't want me dead (you don't, right?)))).

You've all been so good to me (regardless of how I've acted towards you (I know I can be less than cordial (and inconsistent))). I'm grateful for your friendship (so maybe we can talk some time (by which I mean, maybe I can stop being such a shut-in and talk to you some time (that is, if you aren't tired of my rambling (which is one of my more constant fears)))).

I hope you all have a great year (I say, because I know I'll forget to wish you happy birthday)!

Sincerely (probably),
Kendall

The most Anticlimactic Adventure: The Polished Stones

What a magical day, fellow adventurer!

It has been seven days since we put the rocks in for the polish phase. This means it's time to check out your handiwork! Descend the staircase into the pit of Hell that you call a basement and retrieve the cylinder from the tumbler. On the way back up, be sure to look out for spiders! If they follow you upstairs, they will set up camp in your room and deposit egg sacs in you ears.

Head outside with the cylinder to spray off the rocks, because they will be filthy with slurry.

Admittedly, slurry looks like a delicious paste

Attach a spray nozzle to the hose and turn it on full blast, because the ensuing splatter of slurry on your feet and clothes will make the statement, "I'm an adventurer," to anyone who sees you. Once you've sprayed the muck off, take the cylinder inside and dump the rock out. Do they look exactly the same as before? Good! They look like this because the rocks themselves are trying to make you doubt yourself. Place them in a pitcher with water to wash off the film that is clearly hiding the polish.

These are rocks. They are in water.

After you've let them sit for a while, take the rocks out and dry them on the same hand towel you use to wash dishes, clean up messes, and eat off of in cases where you're out of clean plates. After you've wrapped the rocks up in the towel, wait until your roommate asks to see the rocks. Tell him that they aren't quite dry yet. When he persists, try to tell him an interesting story. He will tell you that he doesn't care about your high school debate trip and that he just wants to see the rocks. Now they're ready!

The dullness is just a trick of the light (and by "the light" I mean "fate")

Deny that you've done anything wrong.

REMEMBER: You are incapable of making mistakes.

There is one extra step when rocks are like this. Put the rocks back in the cylinder with water and bleach-free powdered soap. Run the tumbler for two days and hope that you haven't wasted four weeks on a fruitless effort.

Conclusion: Adventure In Progress! Also, none of this is your fault, it's all someone else's fault, you're so perfect.

Wish me luck, fellow adventurer!

Logan Out Loud: When the Fans Attack

What a rapturous Summer eve, fellow adventurer!

On Saturday, the members of Logan Out Loud gathered on Trent Hunsaker's front porch, ate Jordan Todd Brown's pizza, and congratulated Taylor Miles on another successfully navigated birthday as they waited for the arrival of an audience. 

Little did our improvisionaries know what horrors would momentarily befall them. Soon, small groups of people appeared on the horizon, carrying blankets and lawn chairs. They began to fill Trent's backyard like so many carrion birds on a stinking carcass. 

After about thirty people, things started looking grim. But this was not the end. That comes after the denouement!

In a matter of a half-hour, things had gotten entirely out of hand!

Look at them! Hungry for the kill!

The members of Logan Out Loud called upon their courage in the hopes that they might somehow appease the ravenous crowd as well as their mighty improv god, Blaydor, whose hoof seemed poised to stamp out all life in the yard. 

With that unknowable, unconscionable, unbeatable courage, Logan Out Loud had a pretty decent show. Somewhere between fifty and sixty people huddled in Trent's backyard to enjoy some comedy. That was enough to inspire Logan Out Loud to keep up the fight for another few millenia!

Also, no rocks were thrown, so let's chalk that up as a win!

This is the denouement

The End

Or is it?

(In one sense it is, because it's the end of this particular story, but in another sense, it isn't, so it depends on what "end" you're looking for)

(Or does it (it does)?)

The (al)Most Complete Adventure: The Polishing Phase

 What a momentous day, fellow adventurer!

As you well know, fellow adventurer, the rocks have been going through the pre-polish phase. Well, they can't pre-polish forever! Eventually you'll have to head back down into your terrifying basement and just deal with the horrors that await you. It's time to get them started on the final phase, the polish!

The first step is to head downstairs. Many adventurers won't get past this step because they either are paralyzed with mortal fear or they forget that they have rocks tumbling downstairs and let them go a couple extra days and would rather not find out if anything has exploded. But the true adventurer will head downstairs, cautiously making his way to the corner where the noise of rocks smashing against each other sounds eerily like a troll eating the bones of foolish humans (any adventurer worth his salt knows that noise).

Once you have the cylinder in your sight and can verify that the noise is coming from inside it, shut off the tumbler, grab your rocks, and run. 

REMEMBER: A good adventurer knows that there is probably a troll in the basement regardless of whether he can hear it or not. The most dangerous troll is the silent troll who lives in the firewood room!

Now that you're upstairs, head out back where you can flush the slop out of the cylinder with the hose. Make sure the pressure is high, because splashing rock slurry on your pants is the only way to prove to your friends that you participated in an adventure today!

 Slurry, waiting to transfer itself to my clothes

With your cylinder of clean rocks, head back inside.

MULTITASK TIP: Wait ten minutes until you remember to turn off the hose. This way you can water a small portion of your lawn while you work on your rocks!

Your rocks should look about the same as they did before. This is good! The adventurer thrives on the fear that he has done something wrong. If you feel like crying, no problem! Let it out, fellow adventurer!

The same rocks as last week, but markedly smaller! Success!

To see if the pre-polish phase has taken, place a rock on a towel and sprinkle a little of the polish powder on it. Now scrub until the rock shines. If it doesn't shine, the instructions say to  put the rocks back in the pre-polish solution for another 24 hours.

REMEMBER: The instructions are useless. Just get on with the polish phase.

Toss the rocks back into the cylinder with some fresh water and the polish powder. Prep yourself for what may be your final trip to the basement and final moments on Earth. Rush down, put the cylinder on the tumbler, start it up, run for your life. 

Now we're polishing, fellow adventurer!

Conclusion: Adventure In Progress. Also, maybe you should put the tumbler in the garage next time.

The Most Cerebral Adventure: The Pub Quiz

So many mixed emotions, fellow adventurer!

One of the attributes most prized among the adventurers is that of immense trivial knowledge. Many non-adventurers will tell you (jealously) that your knowledge of the Civil War or the entire IMDB website will get you nowhere in life. But we adventurers know that there is a place where the master of trivia is elevated to the high status of King Smarty-Pants: The Pub Quiz.

For years, Logan, Utah has been bereft of such an opportunity. But a month ago, two fine gentleman decided to bring this tradition to our local bar and grill.

Trent Hunsaker (using his partner as a human shield to defend against projectile mugs)

 and Jordan Brown (slightly taller than he is in reality). purveyors of the finest Pub Quizzeries 

These two men run the Zeroes N' Heroes Trivia Challenge at Logan's Beehive Bar and Grill every Tuesday at 7:00 p.m. Now, adventurers salivate at the simple suggestion of "Pub Quiz." But others, understandably, live in constant fear of such activities. For the fearful who wish to become adventurers, I, King of Adventurers, offer you this simple tutorial on the Pub Quiz experience.

The first step in participating in the Pub Quiz is coming up with a team name that is simultaneously unique, humorous, and offensive (offensiveness always trumps humor in this situation, so if you need to sacrifice one attribute, let the offensiveness be the humor). Our team name for the week was Planned Parenthood/The Morning After (we chose both because it was a disservice to pick only one). Now, while there is nothing inherently humorous in those names, the offensiveness of using them in a light-hearted fashion makes chuckles erupt from the most stoic of Pub Quizzarians.

Now that you have a great name, it's time to learn some trivia! Go online and surf the web for ten minutes before getting stuck in a loop for two hours before you realize that maybe your entire day (possibly your entire life) has been wasted collecting trivia. Cool off that self-loathing with a couple humorous/kitten-filled videos! You feel better already, fellow adventurer!

It's time to head over to the Pub Quiz. Head over a little late so that you can be excluded from the main group. Spend a couple minutes looking forlornly at your teammates who avoid your gaze as though it was the stare of Medusa. After failing to elicit any sympathy, find a seat at an empty table, yards away.

The team, breaking my heart

Now it's time to start! As your team begins to answer every question correctly, convince yourself that you're an outside consultant who is needed as a fresh set of eyes. Wander over to their table often, checking their answers and offering thumbs-ups and head-nods.

QUICK TIP: Your friends need you. They feel really bad about not having a spot for you. They are planning a surprise party for you. They love you, no matter what they say.

Two "N's" in Anna, guys, but good job!

Watch as your team wipes the floor with the past week's winner as well as any other hopefuls. But be ever-vigilant, fellow adventurer! The one question they don't know the answer to may come along. For example: Which American Idol judge quit the show last Friday? Now, most people will answer Steven Tyler, since his image is forever burned into their minds (his face is the face of my nightmares). But what you know that the others may not is that Steven Tyler quit on Thursday, making the answer Jennifer Lopez. How do you know this? Because on Friday you were talking to your mother as she read the newspaper, and she noted, "What is Steven Tyler?" Meaning, of course, that Steven Tyler was in the paper on Friday for Thursday's news of his leaving. That leaves Jennifer Lopez (because Randy Jackson's heart is in a glass jar in the producer's office)!

Thanks to your one correct answer, your team wins. Celebrate by standing close to them and feeling their collective glory wash over you.

REMEMBER: You are the most important member of the team. They couldn't have won without you. You are their lucky charm. Right?

 Mike Grover and Brock Champlin, awash with winner's glory

 The only way to truly complete a night of Pub Quizzery is to laugh at the losers. And there are so many of them!

Losers, sobbing

REMEMBER: Winners may someday become losers, so make fun of them while you can. If you are a loser, remind yourself that all winners are cheaters.

Conclusion: Adventure Accomplished! Also, your friends think you're great, no matter how much they refuse to acknowledge you.

Best of luck on your trivial pursuits (please don't sue me, Trivial Pursuit), fellow adventurer!

Moments of Weakness: My Great-Great-Great Granddad can't beat up your Great-Great-Great Granddad

After finding out that I'm descended from Canadians, I figured my family's position in history could sink no lower. But I made the mistake of continuing to read about John Pack's exploits this week. John was a rough-around-the-edges pioneer who didn't only make spelling errors, but spelled the same words incorrectly in a variety of ways (Example: Know became "no, knoe, now"). He served as a leader during the migration of the Latter-Day Saints from Missouri to Utah. Why was he chosen? Because he was strong, smart, and tough as the nails he was born on (note to self: check accuracy of "born on nails" statement). So you'd think he wouldn't manage to get himself beat up too often.

Well, fellow adventurer, you'd be wrong! Because John Pack was also a little cheat who broke the most basics rules of any playground child. As we all know (unless you've never been a child), one of the chief rules of the playground is, "no cutting in line." 

Now, maybe we can get away with breaking that rule every now and then. But eventually it catches up to us. Especially if we break that rule and cut in front of a man like Howard Egan. Apparently there was a pretty solid order in the wagon train when the Saints were headed west. But John Pack wasn't one for order and decided to drive his team on ahead of Egan's.

This is how that should have gone down:

John Pack

VS. 

Howard Egan

2-NITE! 2 Men enter! 1 Man leaves!

BLOOD ON THE PRAIRIE

Kids seats still just FIVE BUCKZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!

Instead, my Canadian ancestor, lethargic with the maple syrup that pumped genetically through his bloodstream, got knocked off his wagon by Egan who then jumped down and kicked him while he laid in the dirt, crying like a little girl (note to self: don't check accuracy of "John Pack cried like a little girl" statement (because it might be true (and that would just be the last nail in the coffin))). It goes without saying that he surrendered (but I'll illuminate my point anyway by reminding you that John Pack was disgustingly, desperately, irreversibly Canadian).

The worst part is, I know Egan's great-great-great grandson, and, had I known the history between our families, had ample opportunity to punch him in the face and restore some dignity to my family. But now we're friends, so I'll have to be sneakier about it.


I sent him a text about it, to which he replied: "Doesn't surprise me." WHAT?! Wait, let him explain: "He had a law named after him in Utah. It was called the justifiable homicidal act. Look it up. Lol." 


Lol? LOL?! Lol, fellow adventurer. It turns out that Howard Egan's wife had an affair, Egan killed the guy, and then lived the rest of his life a free man. In effect, I was one well-placed kick from not existing today. Egan was an animal (no offense (some offense))! John shouldn't have even been in that bout!

Basically, it's just this whole mess and it goes to show how much Canada has ruined my life. I admit that I still have a lot of respect for John Pack, but I think we can agree that this was a dark chapter in my family's history.

I may never come back from this, fellow adventurer.

Now listen to this awful version of "O, Canada" while I cry myself to sleep: