Andyland, USA

It was late and I was running behind. I left my house in a rush, and was trying to get to Knoxville as quickly as I could. A friend of mine was having a birthday party, and I was determined not to miss it. Sometimes on long car rides I fill my car's radio up with vintage radio shows to keep me company. On that cold night I chose to ride along with Inner Sanctum Mysteries , a show that leaned a bit towards the spooky and the murderous. Creepy organ music playing, a squeaking door, and a host making macabre jokes. The road was somewhat bare that night, not as much traffic as one would have thought, but I suppose for a Thursday night it wasn't too surprising. Right as things began to get going, both on the road and on the 40s radio show on my speakers, a warning light came on in my car's dash. It was a light that said “Hey, your right rear tie is low on air. Fix it!” At first I ignored the light and it's warning. “Pfft, it does that when it gets cold. It'l...

I was surprised and excited when The Loafer asked me if I'd be willing to go and cover the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics. Naturally I said yes, and after equipping myself with a ton of winter gear from L.L. Bean, I boarded an airplane and off I went. There's been many reports about the conditions of the hotels in Sochi, and let me tell you, from a first hand experience, those reports are absolutely correct. It's as if someone decided to use the first level of the N64 Goldeneye game as a style guide. When these winter games are over, the leftover incomplete hotels can be marketed as the first accommodations in line with a “Choose Your Own Adventure” theme. Standing in the potato field, um, lobby of my hotel, I looked to the left, then to the right. To the left looked like a mishmash of treachery that could have been passed off as a low rent attempt at a Russian version of the 90s kids game show, Legends of the Hidden Temple . I went to the right, and found a m...

This week I want to take a moment to talk about something that I have first hand experience with. There's an upcoming holiday that I really struggle with, as do a lot of people. It's a holiday that can make people feel depressed, alone, resentful, and hopeless. A holiday that comes around every February. I'm sure by now you've come to figure out that I am talking about President's Day. President's Day is an amazingly polarizing holiday, how do you celebrate without letting George or Abe overshadow each other? Do you get wooden teeth for you dog, and a stovepipe hat for you cat? Do you wear a powdered wig, or rock out an amazing beard? You can't really have a cook out with the one you love, it's too cold. Last year, I decided to just really throw the hammer down the hallway and throw a President's Day party. It wasn't so much a celebration of two of the great leaders of our land, so much as “Let's eat pizza, dress like dead ...

I know for a fact that the fastest way to cause me to change from normal Andy to Jack Nicholson in The Shinning Andy, is to take away my music (that's right my arch-enemies, the secret is out there! Come at me! My secret underground mole man army is WAITING FOR YOU!). Anyone who knows me knows that music is such a central part of my life, an overwhelmingly huge part of my life. These modern times in which we live in are quite interesting for anyone with unquenchable thirst for music. Two weeks ago, Beats Music was launched, a new streaming service from the company that makes the headphones everyone seems to love. Personally, I'm not a fan of the headphones, but there is so much chatter on various websites I frequent, that I found myself singing up for the free seven day trial. This is where the duality of The Music Conundrum begins. Here's the first part of this duality. Music is in my blood, and it always has been. You want evidence? There exists a home ...

Men, we need to talk. Let's begin by hanging that banner up over in the corner of the room, the one that reads “You're Killing Me, Buster.” Guys, the women in your life are unhappy. How do I know? I know from the way that I see people on dates, the looks on the females face's while the men check God only knows what on their smartphone. I know in the way men have bought into this bullshit idea from the media that being a sophisticated gentleman is “unmanly,” that it means you haven't earned your “man card.” Exactly how insecure are you that you need a damn body wash advertisement to clarify your existence as a male member of the population? We need to focus less on the idea of “manliness” and more on the idea of being a modern gentleman. First off, is being a gentleman anti-feminist? Hell no! Being a gentleman is all about respect. Respect for yourself, respect for others, and respect for women above all else. Let's face it, our girlfriends could murder us ...

“Why did I agree to go out tonight?” is what the text on my phone read. The text message came in at a quarter to midnight. I was at home, watching the movie Die! Die! My Darling! for the first time on TCM (A film that I've wanted to see for a long time, but was mostly a disappointment). The text was not a cry for help from a night gone sour, not remotely, instead it was a text of despair from a friend of mine who makes up half of a superpower that fights crime in the most amazing way possible. We never actually go out and fight crime. We're like The Wonder Twins, only we're The Wonder Twins of Anxiety and Needing to Be Alone To Recharge. That's exactly the situation my friend was in, she had spent most of her day out with people socializing, and she was desperately pining for the peace of being alone with a book. She pines for books, I pine for movies. On that particular day I was most sympathetic with her, as my day had been spent taking five hours to watch...

I couldn't think of a picture to use, here's Alfie I have done a lot of things in my time in order to win the affections of the female population. Desperate attempts to prove to them that I am worthy of having “boyfriend status,” despite the fact that as I grow older I'm coming to find that I'm the real life hybrid of Charlie Brown and Liz Lemon. Always having the football taken away from me at the last second, or having the constant desire to “want to go to there.” One of these moments in my life came last spring, as I went hiking for the first time. She was an outdoorsy lass, and I am, well, not. With my flat feet, my perpetual allergies, and my fondness for indoor plumbing, I find that nature hikes are not my thing. I like nature, and I like being in it from time to time. I would rather spend my time having a picnic in a park, than playing junior explorer. Yet when she texted me and asked me if I would like to go hiking with her, I said yes. She...