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Sweeping the Mindchamber: Thoughts on Acting, Art and Andrew

I am not an actor. I am barely a writer. (I am most certainly a human being and a person.)

I do not make any qualms nor hold  any reservations about my thespian prowess or lack thereof. I admire the craft. I respect it. Marlon Brando, Robert De Niro, John Cazale, Jude Law… long have these men been my heroes of stage and sound.

When we finished filming season one of the acclaimed webbernet comedy spectacle “Bob & Andrew” (I play Andrew), I told my writing partner/confidant/holder of my power-of-attorney Robert “Bob” Woolsey that I was finished with acting.

“I’ve retired,” I blurted between swigs of celebratory ale on that cold November morning, “So fuck you and your fucking show!”

Bob was patient with me, and after the success of those first five episodes, I decided perhaps the world was ready for more of my astounding performances. Bob offered an expected “I told you so,” and then slapped me around a bit.

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Bob Woolsey: Storm’s A-Comin’

bobandandrew.com is proud to present an excerpt from Bob Woolsey’s upcoming memoir entitled “Bob Woolsey: Storm’s A-Comin’”.

Published by Harper-Collins, “Storm’s A-Comin’” chronicles Mr. Woolsey’s life as an extreme weather-chaser as he criss-crosses Canada in search of high pressure systems as well as low pressure systems. Here’s what critics and peers are saying:

“‘Storm’s A-Comin’” is an absolute must-read if you’ve got a face, brain and balls.”
-Andrew Menzies

“This is totally a book.”
-James Marsden (X-Men 2)

“The cover is nice.”
-Neil Young (acclaimed Canadian singer-songwriter speaking about another publication)

“The paper is of cheap quality. If you add beeswax, you can roll marijuana cigarettes with it. Fuck off Dorothy, I’m on the phone!”
Terry Joseph Wharburton (bobandandrew.com Podcast Producer)

We are proud to present chapter 16 in its entirety.

Chapter 16: Night Falls

It had been two days since Hurricane Marcus touched down in rural New Brunswick. Dr. Edith Harding sent a frantic early-morning email requesting immediate help. In my haste I forgot to don my long johns. As I sat on that red-eye flight to the Dieppe airport, I mused that the error could lead to my downfall.

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Conspiracy Theories: From Bunked to Debunked

For as long as there has been man and word, there has existed a need for truth.

A thirst for knowledge.

A hunger for… also knowledge.

Today I will debunk popular conspiracy theories. While I attest to professing little to no knowledge in a variety of subjects, I will attempt to beat off my detractors (heh!) by implementing a simple scale of one to ten that will determine the likelihood of truth in each theory.

Here is the scale:

The number “six” wouldn’t fit with the size and font I chose. Also, the colours are meaningless.

NEXT STOP: CONSPIRACY????????????

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Zombies: Holy shit and other thoughts

In an age where Large Hadron Colliders and massive oil spills are the norm, the zombie uprising is a foregone conclusion.

You can pray to your God. You can stockpile all you want. But at the end of the day, there ain’t no insurance premium for the undead.

I’m pragmatic. I know this because I looked up the word. I’ve accepted that society is fragile. That our infrastructure is collapsing and that we, as humans, are doomed.

There’s nothing we can do now, expect pray. (And check our insurance premiums.)

There are six certainties that you must embrace during a zombie uprising. The sooner you make peace with your situation the sooner you’ll be able to develop a new-world marauder alter-ego complete with wardrobe, catch-phrase and small piece of your past that prevents you from getting close to another survivor.

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Terry Joseph Wharburton: 1951-2009

Bob and Andrew are sad to announce the death of longtime producer and friend, Terry Joseph Wharburton.

Terry was many things to many people. He was a father, a lover, a husband, a defendant, and an old man. Terry had a passion for finishing, biplaning, Italian fusion cooking as well as mixed martial arts, women and the drink. He will be missed by many, revered by few.

Click below to hear Bob and Andrew’s thoughts and memories of their long-time podcast producer and cocaine dealer.

 

We apologize about the quality of the recording, as we were without a producer.

After the jump, there’s an unfinished interview Andrew was conducing with Terry upon the time of his death.

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Pigeon Technology III: Pigeons Fight Back

The pigeons have risen. And they’re out for meat.

Human meat.

In Pigeon Technology I, I chronicled how basic “Pigeon Technology” was hampering the lives of various hobosapiens in my neighbourhood.

Due to unyielding political strife/public outcry for justice, Pigeon Technology II was birthed. I will admit the second chapter was written hastily and filled with grievous factual errors, but its heart was in the right spot.

But forget all of that shit. We’ve got bigger problems than the moderate set-up for a vaguely comedic Internet blog.

The pigeons are fighting back!

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WEB LOG

This is truth: until sixteen days ago, I had no idea that the word “blog” was derived from the term “web log”.

This revelation threw me. I’m usually pretty tight with words and shit. I got straight B’s in high school English; obviously above average, but not too big for my britches.

Had I gotten all A’s I would be filled with too much confidence to even explore my grammatical shortcomings. (Of which, believe me, there are many.)

When I think of words that are fucking kick ass, I tend to think of things, as opposed to ideas. Democracy is a pretty good idea, but as a word? Lame.

Some words have a particular ring to them that’s just appealing, even if the object, idea or place they describe or represent is wholly disgusting. Examples: falcon, snot, microwave.

I could go on but I’d rather share these drawings I made.

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Man-Up March: Man up, in March!

Oh you better believe this is an Argh blog; full of piss and vinegar and cigarette butts and motherfucking head stomps.  Argh! ARGHHHH!

Man-Up March is in full effect. What? You don’t know what Man-Up March is? Well, then you’re probably not doing it right.

MAN UP; (mahn uhp); verb: To hiken one’s bootstraps; to become a man.

MARCH; (mah-rach); noun: The third lunar month.

Use your headspace to combine those two shitbricks.

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A Collection of Hilarious Lists

Often times I will assemble a list of objects, devices or things meant to spark thought.

I compile data and research, conduct thorough surveys, and generally use my magnificent (yet still uncertified) sleuthing skills to get to the heart of the issues I am preparing to list.

I have made lists of the best land mammals, curse worse and liquors. However those blogs are absolute bullshit compared to the knowledge I’m about to drop.

While some people (re. cocksucking, sandbagging motherfuckers) have suggested that list-centric blogs are lazy and child-like, I tend to disagree. Lists are what separate us from the animals. Man’s ability to take several similar objects, organize and rank them arbitrarily merely to create conflict is an essential and vital practice. Why, without the “Best Dressed” or “Worst Dressed” lists, we’d be nothing more than monkeys spitting and pooping about!

I am doing mankind a service. So without further to do, what lies onward is a series of hilarious lists.

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My Death List

Some months ago, Bob and I pondered death and death lists in the acclaimed Internet sketch, Kick in the Head .

While death is terrible, making and seeking out a death list is not. I hope the "YEAH" banner satisfies you.

Here is my death list.

1. Build a boat.

2. Bake a comically large pizza.

3. Be in a position to donate to charity.

4. Do cocaine with Pat O’Brien. Preferably off of Mary Hart.

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Marriage: Thank You, NO.

Ah, marriage. The splendid union between a man and a woman, a woman and a woman, or a man and a man. The most happiest day of two peoples’ lives celebrated with kith and kin, not soon to be forgotten in the hallmarks of the times.

Marriage is stupid.

Let’s look at the facts: 50% of marriages end in divorce. I didn’t research this statistic nor do I care to, but it seems more than reasonable. If going in to something that has a 50/50 chance of failure, what’s the point? I feel the same way about checkers as I do about marriage.

Second point: marriage is stupid. If you love someone, why do you need to throw a giant party and buy a couple of shiny rocks to prove it? Invest in mutual funds and take a trip some place warm. That’s how you celebrate love. Or buy a boat and name it after your significant lover.

“The S.S. Bob Woolsey sank today. All 375 on board perished in the icy waters of the Adriatic Sea. Human error is to blame.”

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The Best Land Mammals

The Animal Kingdom is the most dangerous kingdom.

In the Animal Kingdom, there is no rule of law. There is no schools, is no churches, is no grocery stores. You gotta fight to survive.

Every animal for herself.

I am here today to count down the top three land animals based on a detailed flow-chart of various factors. However, the flow-chart was damaged in transport therefor I cannot show it to you. You’ll just have to take my word that it was an intricate and complex flow-chart that would have illustrated my points quickly and concisely.

Now, some of you might say ranking the best land mammals is a fruitless and trite waste of time. I have no immediate defense for such accusations. Seriously, why you gotta go breaking my balls like that?

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Birthday Happy, Andrew

I don’t mean to toot my own horn but since no one else seems to want to, I’m left to celebrate my birthday via blogging. 

Today I am twenty-four years old. Older than Super Nintendo, younger than the World Trade Towers. 

I’ve got more years on me than Mickey Rourke’s chin, but less than Cher’s tits.

Twenty-four years. Woopity doo.

I burst through the vagina at exactly 4:44 PM, February 16th, 1985 (consult your Almanacs). I was greasy and irey: thespians will recognize this as foreshadowing. A welcomed changed from months in the womb, I was a stand-out example of what a baby should be.  What a baby can be.

Did you bring a coat? Good, cause I’m about to take you on a journey.

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I have made a huge mistake

The last half of 2008 was a tumultuous time for me. I changed as a person, that’s for sure.

And when I look back on it, I think of what a mistake I made. I’ve had a hard time forgiving myself and am just now able to look in the mirror and not be disgusted with what I see.

But today, through the power of words, I am here to make amends. To talk through my emotional strife, in an attempt to perhaps find comfort, solace, an understanding. Hopefully my tale of woe can serve as warning to you, the reader. This may not be the appropriate forum for the trail of emotions I’m about to spill, but since I own 39% of this website, I feel I have a right to my caustic flow. I hope my troubles can serve a cautionary tale.

And we begin.

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A Tribute to Bush: Part One

Enough time has passed to allow the collective conscious to breath a sign of relief, to exhale on what has been a tumultuous eight years under the reign of the American leader who brought us into the twenty-first century: George Walker Bush.

President.  Hawk.  Boot-stomper.

Bush was many things: A thief. A liar. A war criminal. But apart from sending young men and women into the desert to die on a God damn lie, Bush accomplished many, many great things that will stay with the world until time stops.

Today, we take a look back at the legacy George W. Bush.

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Terry Joseph Wharburton: A Christmas Interview

We here at bobandandrew.com are decidedly pro-Christmas. We love Christmas so much we devoted an entire week of content to the holiday (instead of one measly little day like the Christians do).

However, not everyone loves Christmas.

Terry Joseph Wharburton, producer for the weekly podcast hammer “The Bob & Andrew Show”, recently blogged about Christmas.  While nothing remotely interesting was said, Bob and I were both intrigued by Terry’s under-laying disdain for the holiday.

I sat down with Terry to get his true feelings on the Christmas season.

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How To Lie To People

A small disclaimer, before I begin: I am not a bad person. Well, maybe, I don’t know. People seem to like me. I would consider myself affable. If there’s a heaven, I have a solid case to get in. Might have to bribe St. Peter, but there’s no gun smuggling or assault and batteries on my record so I should be okay. I don’t give to charity or anything.

I figure I lie about thirty times a day.  It’s mostly small stuff, things I could easily tell the truth about but choose not to.

Sometimes people will ask me how I’m doing. I always answer “fine” even though I never am. The idea that one can be “fine” is abstract to me at best. If every problem in my life suddenly solves itself and I’m left with a short window of happiness, yeah, maybe then I’m fine. But I assume that window so distant and brief that I probably won’t recognize it, let alone be given the opportunity to answer that question, for the first time, truthfully. But that’s neither here nor there.

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Do these things with my corpse when I die.

I’m gonna die. Probably not today or tomorrow. I mean, you never know. I could die accidentally.

Falling brick. Murdered. Sheep-attack. That kind of thing.

But that’s glass half-empty death-talk.

However as a twenty three year old male with a family history of alcoholism and heart problems, I think it’s safe to say I’m going to die within the next sixty years.

And damn it, I want to be prepared.

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My Favorite Curse Words

I like to curse.  I consider swear words the pepper to the potatoes of the English language.

(Adjectives are salt.  Conjectures, the paprika.)

There are no “bad words”. Intentions can be bad, but to say a word is “bad” is just trite and childish.

Some say cursing is a sign of a lack of intelligence. The notion being, if one is too daft to think of something better to say, he will revert to the fowl. I can see the merit to this argument however there is something to be said about a well placed swearword. There’s a psychological reason we use these words, whatever context. And that reason is not something I’m qualified to give nor am interested in exploring that shit.

And now, onto the God damn cursing.

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