4-7-11 Journal

This class...
Well, creative writing was a first for me. I really enjoyed the fact that all of the assignments were up online, along with some sort of example. It really made it easy to go back and look over if you didn't fully understand. Most of the time, it was a quiet, friendly environment(besides when we had a sub) and that really helps to make it easier to work and stay concentrated. To find lyrics for an assignment, I found it quite fun. It allowed you to express yourself through music(and poetry) within the boundaries of what it appropriate. For the first time, i really enjoyed going to class. I'm not trying to suck up, because frankly i find sucking up to be a sign of weakness. This class was fun, that is why I'm stating my opinion.
Along with it ups, creative writing certainly had its downs. The class is based entirely on the computer. This brings technology into the equation. Many of the days when i didn't feel like working i had an easy way to divert myself from focusing on the matter at hand. Internet access makes it hard to stay on track, and I'am sure that i do not stand alone on this matter.

worst restaurant experience

My worst restaurant experience that i have encountered was probably at a sports bar in St. Louis. We had been out for most of the day and the sun was criconing above, high in the sky. The thermometer had peaked at 104 degrees early on around 3pm and let me stress this. It was not getting any cooler, if anything the temp was rising. I remeber walking down the cobblestone roads that lined the Mississippi. The entire day had been spent outdoors except for a few exceptions. I began to feel like a fish when you place it on the ice. Laying out in the open with the sun reflecting off the ice and baking your skin like a skillet on a hot summer day after breakfeast at our camping site. Not to my surprise i wasnt the only one feeling this way. My cousin and his parents were dreading this heat as well. The clock above the cathedral still chimed at the beginning of every hour. It sent piercing soundwaves across the city seven times before silencing itself. A few blocks down was a commonplace to find a good bite to eat. According to my uncle it had some of the best jazz in the midwest. Home to many blues muscicians over the years its sweet melody soothed its customers as they enjoying delicious harty old American meals. We sat down for ten minutes before panic struck. A couple of St. Louis Cardinals fans, dressed in Mark McGuire and Albert Pujols jersey stormed the front door with guns. Instantly i hit the deck, scared half to death, it was only five minutes but it was the longest five minutes of my life.

Bubba's Bar and Grill

The food industry has been transformed dramatically since its origins. Personally i would have to say that it was at its peak in the 1950s throughout the the 1960s. But that comes with the fact that so was America. Most entrepreneurs try something new. Something the world has not yet experienced, but as one myself i will have to travel in the footsteps of my redneck ancestors.
Given that I had no cap space to expand my horizons i would create the ultimate redneck beer joint/sports bar. It would be secluded, like my favorite restaurant the Chainsaw sisters saloon. God how i miss it. The frame would be made from logs, it would be completely built by hand. It would of course have two stories. Upstairs would be for those who seeked a nice bite to eat(American food of course) and a fun environment to watch his or hers favorite games.
Down the wooden staircase which would wind up around a large tree trunk is the place where the real action is at. A country music band would always have the stage from 7- closing time and games would be on 24/7 even if that means we watch re runs of famous games of our past. Hockey would take first over all. Followed by nascar then football.
Most of all, a shuttle would be parked outside waiting to pick up those who were to, well under the weather to drive home safely. This would prevent any accidents from occurring and keep the liberals quiet. Only one rule would apply. If you wanted to settle a fight you would take it into the octagon out back. Gambling on the fight would of course be kept quiet but, whats the fun of a fight if you cant win from it.
We would sponsor a annual pond hockey tourney and promote youth hockey associations. Small towns, who could not afford the proper equipment could receive donations from our fund to help keep hockey prospering across the United States. The most important part of this combination of sports bar/ casino would be to have fun.

Edgar Morrenz was a Chicago native. He spent his first thirty years serving in the Chicago Police Department. At a young age he retired from the police force, claiming he was fit to live a life without work. His path would take him to to the edge. Like many others, Edgar would take to the mountains. The only difference between Edgar and the seemingly decimated rest of the mountain men was that the span in which the lived was nearly one hundred years.
So in the spring of 1941 Edgar set fire to his small apartment in north Chicago with only the clothes on his back and a nap sack with all he needed to survive. The journey to the rocky mountains took him close to two or three months. But when he reached Denver, it was decided that he wouldn't survive in the Rockies without shelter. He accent to the Rockies was treacherous but one week after he had left Denver he had made it to a seeming oasis where he would set up camp, permanently.
For months he worked around the clock, stopping only to sleep and eat. His objective, to have a small shelter strong enough to withstand the harshness of the Colorado winter. He would survive his first winter, but not before going mentally insane from the lack of food and oxygen. His shelter was submerged under ten feet of snow, Colorado's largest blizzard in ten years. He lived off the rats and bugs which infested his home. Water was melter from the snow he could reach his hands on but it seemed that he was trapped. In mid February he took the lamp he had found on the highway outside of Denver and instead of sticking out the winter took his own life. One by one bashing his head in with the lamp.

Assonance

To all of those whom i do not know, hello
My name is Andrew and i play the Cello
Every night i cook a steaming bean stew
It is always scrum diddly umpshious
And sooths the stomach like a warm cup of milk
While i sit inside my house and ride out this storm
My eyes are focused on this solo worm
It crawls across the wooden plank
Its color pail green and very blank

Daily Journal 4-1-11

Behind her the noise escalated, quickly she jumped into the woods rolling down an embankment winding up in a pool of muddy water. A sign of relief fell over her as she felt invisible from the searching eyes of anyone driving down the bumpy old road. The sound of the old eighties truck began to became more and more clear. Now almost able to make out the song playing over the radio, she panned her body out across the small patch of grass lying a few arm lengths from where she had landed. The lights of the truck were now visible from where she was hiding. A large fog light was held from the bed of the truck panning the woods searching for any sign of the girl. It was now rolling pebbles down the hillside that lined the path. They were so close.
The truck had arrived, the light swept across the ditch inching its way to her. It skipped over the rock near by and lit her body up like a escaping prisoner being identified by the guards. A flash of light from the passenger side was followed up with a loud sound. A burst of leaves popped up and at that point she realized she was done. The shooter didn't miss his next shot. Another flash of light was followed by darkness.
The men jumped from the truck sliding their way down the slope to her body. Upon their arrival they the grabbed her arms and legs and dragged her up the hill. A single hole in her forehead gushing blood. They put a plastic bag over her head to keep the bed from getting stained with her blood and drove off into the night.

Daily Journal

I wish someone had told me that everything was alright. Since last winter i have been suffering the fate of having to bare a broken heart. As you get older you start to dismiss its exsistance because you question whether or not their is such a thing as love. For those who have not experienced it, you may feel that it is not for everyone but that is certainly not true. Things seem great as progression sets in; but after awhile as things seem to be evening out you start to feel the routine set in. Things arent as exciting as they once were and you miss that excitement. So naturally you go seeking for an alternative. More than often it is found and for awhile it seems to be working but then guilt sets in. It is an overwhelming emotion, one that cannot be easily dismissed. Your mind debates between whether to evade the truth and live your life in the shadows for the time being or to come clean and go all in. The answer that makes sense doesnt sit well because by fufilling it you even further betray the closest thing to your heart. Many nights pass as you lay sleepless in best, tossing an turning from the pressure your consciense feels. You sanity has now come into play. Every decision, every step in your daily routine comes into play and must fit like the pieces in a puzzle. You snap! Its two in the morning and you wake up the one next to you and confess, it is off your chest but the results are not in your favor. Should you have done it?

3-30-11

The clock winked at me as if it were saying hello to a friend. This house has forever been filled with mischief and unexplainable. Years have passed by as if they were a blur, and all that holds them together is the strange occurrences that i have witnessed throughout them. I began noticing that all was not right the night i moved in. My life in the city was over as far as i could tell. I needed to get away and spend time to work on myself as a whole. Living alone in the wilderness was an option that i had considered for as long as i can remember. As a child i had loved the time i spent camping and fishing but i never had the chance to experience life out in a small community.
I merged right off of the interstate baring northbound towards Silow a farming community of around seven hundred. As we passed through the half mile span which was the town folks glared at us as if we had been on the most wanted list for years. The moving truck was piloted by two Latinos whom didn't want to help us unpack. They dropped our belongings off a the edge of the driveway and took off not even bothering to collect.
That night after i had managed to move all into the garage we sat in the spacious living space. Our dinner was the luxurious peanut butter sandwich's we had been able to scrap together. I looked out the window picturing a hot summer day with kids running around but this was interrupted by the reality of a figure making its way across the front yard. 
To be continued....

3-3-11 Villanelle

People scatter, as the sirens blare. They run for cover, as the streets are bare
Hidden from the clouds of the British sky, the Luftwaffe's bomb bays open as they pass the shorlines by
Leaving behind a path of destruction, their has left a massive concussion

Waves, and waves of bombers enter the city, their payload will certainly not be pretty.
Destruction is their main objective, you cannot view this from any other perspective
Fear strictens the small island as it shake, the bombs make each person quake.

Citizens cram against one another, the shelters feal like sandwich meat being smothered
Loved ones hold eachother closely, their hands are shaking fratically
They try to think of a happy time, but they are interupted by the sound of a woman's cry

A shriek breaks the silence, as the worst seems to have passed
Suddenly the sirens begin to blast
Another wave is closing in, the peril begins to seep back in

The roar of engines fills the sky, with their goal many will die
Houses around are burning to the ground, the fire is used as a target newly found
Led and dynamite fill the air, as seconds pass as their descendence blares

Hours pass and it is finally over, one night is gone, but they war is certainly not over
For those who survive live in fear, that one day they bomb will find them and end them
Lives devastated by the thundering death, houses destroyed peoples lives are a wreck
It would be years before it finally ends, and when it does the streets will be filled with cheer.

Etheree

wait
listen
to the waves
how relaxing
they sound as they hit
the pale, rocky shoreline
they splash upon arrival
a single drop lands on my foot
slowly it trickles down to my toes
the tide submerges my foot in water.
Mitchell Deinhammer

Daily Journal 3-17-11

I once dreamed about a time in the future. A time where my seemed at its peak. It was the spring of 2014 and we had just landed in Boston. Now I doubt that the draft is going to be at Boston in 2014 but thats where it was in my dream. Like all draftees i was nervous. As we left the boarding area pacing towards the baggage drop off two men in black suits intersepted us. "Your luggage will be sent to your hotel. It should arrive shortly after you do. Follow us, we will be your security for the remainder of your trip."
My mom looked over at me in disbelief. She was never informed that we would have security; we knew it was a big deal going high in the top ten but we never thought it would be of this magnitude. They led us outside to a black suburban with government plates. I dont understand why they would waste man power keeping us safe. As we pulled out of the airport parking heading east towards the highway leading downtown the man in the passenger seat turned around and briefed us. He had recieved orders that becuase of our flights delay we had been late and missed the majority of the pre draft traditions. Instead of taking us to our hotel room our plans were to go directly to the arena to commence the draft.
We pulled up with less than an hour to go before the draft was scheduled to begin. I was escorted downstairs to a dressing room where they had a pair of dress pants and shirt laid out for me. A lady came in and told me that if they didnt fit she could get me another pair, but they did. I stepped out of the dressing room and followed her to the seating arrangements. There she took me to where my family was sitting. I sat down to their left two seats from the isle. About ten minutes later the red lights went on and the draft began. The comissioner came out and gave his speech welcoming all. Then the team manager with the first pick stood up from their table and walked up to the podium with his advisors. They thanked the city and then began to talk about their pick. "with the first oveall pick in the 2014 NHL entry draft, on behalf of the Minnesota Wild we select from Eastview High School Mitchell Deinhammer."
I stood up shaking the hands of my brothers and hugging my mom and sister then proceeded down the steps to the stand. He hand me a Jersey with the #14 on the back i shake the GM's hand and smile for the cameras before walking down from the stage. I take a few interviews and go sit back up with my family filled with excitement. They day goes on as the NHL welcomes the new leaders of a dynasty.

Daily Journal 3-15-11

It was a mild in Nagasaki as I drove into work. My country had duties for me to attend to as the US ambassador for Japan. My driver pulled onto a street ( a cannot spell or pronounce it) which for this time of day seemed kind of crowded. Not on the streets of course but people were lined up along the sidewalks onlooking the road as if their had been some spectacle going on. Soon enough it came to my attention that behind us speed a funny looking car. It resembled a shoe. A brown formal shoe. Now in America this would be considered to be a creative car that only some sort of comedian or inventor would drive; but in Japan everything is magnified. So as i looked on in laughter the driver started to speed up. If i had been more informed about Japanese culture i would have know that something like this is most certainly frowned upon. As the shoe of a car started to disappear as we pulled away i realized that the road itself was getting narrower. The crowd which had once been along the sidewalk was now approaching the center of the roadway with one thing on their mind. They approached the driver with faces filled with rage and frustration. Finally they reached the car, tearing the driver from the tip of the sneaker and casting him into the crowd. If his intention were that he wished to be a shoe they very well granted it. One by one they stomped upon the man as the roared down the street. A mob had now formed around the shoe. People started throwing burning shoes at the car in hope that it would catch fire to the brown vehicle of death. One landed in the cockpit. Ashes singed the seat and lit the leather on fire sending the crowd backwards like a cat from a bathtub. The car lay in rubble as the crowd started to disperse, the man piloting the contraction lay on the ground motionless.

My Journey on a Pirate Ship

Twas mid summer of 1639 and all had been going swell. The crew and I were longing for home. It had been four months since we last saw land. We clung to life by surviving off of the collections that we obtained upon our raids. For years we had made our living chasing down merchant vessels. We jumped aboard their deck and ravaged their crews. After we had slaughtered all left on board we ripped threw the ship in search for belongings for ourselves and food and water. As we departed from our victories the last man off would set fire to the deck assuring that no one would survive, even if they had evaded our initial searches. Hundreds of innocent lives were lost between the years we spent turning the open waters red with the blood of commoners. In 1637 we returned home finally, after being abroad for two years terrorizing the seas. My hope was that we could live among the kind folk of Charleston quietly without any trouble from the authorities. But luck was never on our side, and after three weeks we had to flee from mobs in search for revenge for their fallen. So for two years now we have not come across the sight of land. Until now. It seems that we have come across an empty isle. Abandoned, i will stay behind when the crew decides to depart. I will live the rest of my life in peace in search for retribution for all of my sins. In hope that someday god will forgive me as i stand before him at the gates of heaven.

It was another late night at the sheen house as it always is on weekends. Once again charlie was enjoying life to the fullest along side two of his special friends. What once was an everyday occurrence had seemed to become a very uncommon thing to see happening at the Sheen residence.
Charlie was busy in the bathroom snorting a line of coke; his legs wobbled as he tried to stand up. After sometime he managed to lift himself up by the doorknob. The handle started to turn but it appeared to be moving away from Sheen as if it were running; then everything went dark.
Squinting at the ceiling as if he were a newborn just appearing from the womb. Slowly he stood up realizing with every waking moment that he had been passed out in the bath tub. Charlie starts to freak out, his blood pressure spikes as his mind recalls the wild night that he had woken up from.
Staggering out the bathroom door Sheen is greeted by a shocking sight. His house had been cleaned out. The walls bare, carpet stripped from the floorboards. All that was left behind was a note laying on the floor in the living room. He lifts it up and starts reading it as if it were Chinese, he takes his time but makes out what it says. "We have it all! Your furniture your cocaine and your women! Its over!"
He crawls to his room and jumps off his balcony he cannot bare to live without his one true love.

Joey Catsalgi  was a young itallian american trying to make his way out of a poverty stricken household in the the late 1920s. With world war one far behind the citizens of this great US of A many had tried their luck in the stock market. It was promising business that had made many fortunate previousley. With a national high came a devistating low that would soon send america into a spiral of unfortunate poverty. That along with the decreasing number of jobs thousands were left homeless.
Joey was determined to make something of himself. In the summer of 1929 he started working in a bar in Brooklyn, New York. He didnt plan on sustaining this job for more than a few months under the circumstances. His luck all changed on the evening of July 9 when while he swept the floors preparing to close up shop when his boss stormed in with two men dragging something heavy in a bag behind them. At the time they didnt know what to do with the potential witness whom they didnt expect to come across.
After discussion they turned to Joe and threw a shovel at his feat. Joe spent the remainder of the night burrying his dead.
The day after Joe met with his boss requesting a job opportunity that he would soon come to regret. He would join the mafia and eventually end up in prison after being caught with another body in his trunk.

Daily Journal 3-2-11

How ridiculous I was as a child. If you analyzed my actions and tried to sum them up with one word there would only be one option, goofy. I was indeed a silly child, when our family lived in Iowa I used to run into the living room and hide underneath the coffee table whenever I believed that I was in trouble. Just by seeing me curled up in a ball, my clothes dreched with sweat from the fear that overwhelmed me; you knew I did something wrong. It was as if I was admitting to my faults. Even when in reality you now realize that what you did was not nearly as bad as you believe it to be you look back and laugh because your head has images of you being punished racing through your mind. In Detriot during the playoffs for the Red Wings a fan threw an Octopus onto the ice believing it to be good luck. Most wouldnt have done such a thing in fear that they would be kicked out. This ended up becoming a tradition that is still used today by Detroit Red Wings fans. This act that many would consider to be troublesome actually benifited the overall moral of the team and the fans.

2-28-11 Concrete Poem

Goal Horn

I

am

often

blessed

during a game

when your presence

is heard as that light

that bright red light flips

on the crowd cheers as you play

your tune of victory you electrify

the players as they strive to achieve

the most important component to winning in

this game we play upon the frozen surface which

lay beneath our feet it is a gift from the hockey gods

to embrace the overwhelming mood that your sound sways over

the entire arena it is so special to hear your lovely tune play.



2-28-11 Journal entry

St. Louis has been made famous by its massive arch which stands towering about the cities stretch of the Mississippi river. It has been nicknamed by many to be the "gateway to the west". Thousands started their journey to the west in hope of prosperity and their chance to become an entrepreneur.
The path that lead west would take the lives of many but the trip was well worth the risk. Families scattered across the eastern seaboard and further inland gathered their belongings into wobbly wheeled wagons leaving their lives behind in search for a new home out west.
Days were filled with endless walking and at nights they would circle the wagons around their sleeping quarters in hope to hold off any attack from Indians of wild animals in search for the taste of human flesh. Blankets scattered across their bodies they lay on the hard ground of the plains squinting up towards the twinkly lights which were scattered across the night time sky. One of the most infamous wagon trains the Donner party would face a surreal experience. After the leading wagon holding all the unnecessary possessions to the Gabby family lost track of the path and led the party into the frozen peaks of the Rockies the company faced starvation. After many grueling days without food they turned to cannibalism in search for nutrients; if not they would face death, all alone in the vast wilderness.

If i had the opportunity to invite three people to enjoy a dinner with me it would be a very interesting meal. First off, i have to go old school hockey so for my first invitation i would send it out to Maurice "the rocket" Richard of the Montreal Canadians. With my second choice i would like to select Jeff Carter because he is my favorite hockey player. Last but certainly not least i would proudly choose my grandfather; what i wouldnt give for one last meal with him.

Journal 2-24-11

As I ponder through my memories, searching for a particular scary moment which stands out among the rest only one specifically comes to mind.
Between school years each child is blessed with a three month long break from reality, it has been dubbed by the school boards as summer break. Most children enjoy this fun filled three months with trips to the lake or spending time at the park with friends and family. Our family takes a different approach.
Each Independence day weekend is greeted by a trip to our grandparents house up on the border of the boundary waters. Luckily we have cousins who live but twenty minutes from grandmas house. We our by far closer to these cousins than all others.
We all have fun in town, but we know that the children always have one thing on their mind. The shack.
One night as our trucks steadily moved there way through the thick forest towards our shack we encountered something none of us would ever forget. It had been a full moon the night before so the cycle had the moon as full as ever. As our trucks bobbled from rock to rock we came to a bend that was sharper than most corners. As we proceeded to turn our truck was struck. Panic rushed through our veins as second by second our comrades slowly vanished into the darkness leaving us in utter silence. A tree had fallen on the hood of our car. We couldn't believe it we were stranded.

2/24/11 Journal

Yesterday the Wild faced of against one of the worst teams in the NHL the Edmonton Oilers. Who are considered to be a team that has not broken out yet. Their newest and brightest star is the 2010 NHL entry draft No. 1 overall pick Canadian Taylor Hall. In the game prior to his visit to St. Paul he netted his first career hat trick as an NHLer. The Oilers were lucky enough to snag one of Taylor's OHL teammates forward Jordan Eberle, who has also contributed to the teams point streak throughout the 2010-2011 season.
The puck was dropped approximately around 7pm which would kick off what would hopefully be another home team win. Minnesota was in desperate need for the very important two points which were up for grabs after losing on national television in a shootout to Detroit's Red Wings.  I guess the hockey gods were looking over our shoulders because they blessed us with a 4-1 win over the Oilers, which was tipped off by a spin-o-Rama goal by Pierre Mark- Bouchard on a breakaway late in the third period.
Many did not believe that the Minnesota Wild would do this well, let alone be a potential Stanley Cup Playoff contender. It has been a great season and myself along with thousands of other fans hope that the wild will be able to proceed playing in the post season. It should  be an exciting rest of the year.

Alliteration

Sitting alone inside your stand
Peering out across the land
You wait silently for a deer to come
Close enough to feel the wrath of your gun

Time seems to stand still
As you skim the far away hills
All that tension
Just for the taste of venison

Hunting Season

Hunting Season
Camouflage
The color of outdoors men
It feels as if you & nature are one
Gunfire shatters the silence
wet leaves scattered across the ground
Tender grouse nuggets or spicy deer sticks
You lust for it all year round

Haiku

Goldy the gopher
really hates the badgers team
but rarely beats them

Early Childhood Memories

My earliest childhood memory was the morning of my third birthday. It was a sunny day, and warm; which was and oddity considering that it was the sixth of January. When i resumed life away from the comforts of my dreams the outline of a shape started to appear. Slowly it came in clear enough for me to realize that it was my mother. "Mitch, good morning birthday boy! Hurry and get your self dressed there are some waffles with your name on them sitting at the table downstairs". she said.
I put on my favorite shirt with the emblem of my uncles fire equipment company spread across the front. Slid on my warm sweat pants and quickly scooted down from my room.
My eyes widened as they came upon the greatest feast a three year old you fathem. I sat down and dug in; my taste buds werent ready for the taste orgasim they were about to have swept upon them. Later on we had a party. Around noon we went to the fire station for a tour then finished it off at Circus Pizza.

Daily Journal 2/18/11

A man walks out into the cold night air. His hands are shaking from what i would assume had been an unspeakable act. He wipes them on his pants and slowly paces across the sidewalk into the street, when he reachs the yellow dotted line he stops cold in his tracks as if his feet were glued to the ground.  A dark figure appears from behind the shadow of a near by coffee shop; making his way as well into the center of the road way.
The two shapes stand parallel in the darkness staring deep into one anothers eyes. The man at the far corner pulls back his rain coat as if he reaching for a lighter. A loud popping noise pierces the silence and in a matter of seconds both me fall to the ground in a heap. It seemed as it were only a solo gunshot and as i take a closer look, hidden behind a parked car down street is a boy. He comes running out to the street passing by one of the men. Dropping to his knees he grasps the head of the other victim as if he were cradeling a baby. A high pitched yelp calls out, the boy starts panting yelling for his father but nobody comes.
I ponder my thoughts as i sit in the drivers seat of my car and come to the conclusion that amidst all of this chaos this boy was the son of that whom he holds close to his beating heart. What seemed like a good idea, to hide away from the fight and strike his competitor from a distance ended up hurting him as well. The boy had fired one shot with the intention of killing his fathers predassesor; the speeding steel slug pass through the man and followed its path through his fathers heart killing them both. I
I turn the key in the ignition and put my car into gear slowly driving off into the night...

Cinquain

Hockey
Entertaining
Cold breeze nips at my face
As I shoot the puck it sails and scores
Passion

Metaphor

Life is like a round about
You must approach it with caution
Risks should not be a big factor
If you see possible danger
Do your very best to avoid it
Patients is key for assuring a safe trip
When you pull out your mind fears for the worst
But as you start to move along it disappears
Life is like a round about

Simile Poem

A hockey team is like a family
We share a bond that cannot be broken
If we win we win as a team
If we lose it is together as one

After the midpoint in the season
Every body's play picks up a notch
It seems as if the pedal is to the metal
Each point brings us closer to victory
Almost as if our lives are on the line

We have shared together five months
Our hearts look to extend that timeline
The entire season comes down to this
A shot ricochets off the goal post
The referee signals as the puck crosses over
The wait is over
The postseason will begin

Best Friend

       When I think about a best friend I have certain traits already installed in my head that they must possess. My ideal best friend must have a general liking of hockey; they must at least know how to skate. Then again what is a best friend if they cant be trusted with a secret. I recently was watching a movie that have the phrase "the only people you can trust in this world is your own blood".
       I would have to disagree, anyone can be trusted. Another trait my best friend should have is that they must have a sense of humor. If they cannot handle a joke they I can guarantee that we will not get along for very long. Last but not least they cannot be a vegetarian. I will at some point have to eat meat while I' am around them, if they cannot acquire a taste for it they can stick they're leafy food down their throat while they sit at a different table. Vegetarians disgust me.

Auto Biom Poem

Mitchell
Dependable, caring, trustworthy, compassionate
Brother to Kelsey (15), Justin (10), Hunter (5)
Lover of Hockey, Hunting, Fishing, sports etc.
Who feels joy when he is outdoors
Who needs comedy everyday
Who gives good advice
Who fears spiders, the Apocalypse, and oompa loompas(from Willy Wonka).
Who would like to see the Minnesota Wild win a Stanley cup
Resident of Apple Valley, Minnesota
Deinhammer

2/14/11 Journal Entry

1. A calendar is like a mirror because it reflects what is going on in your life.
2. A sandwich is like a relationship because the bread(couple) has to work together to achieve happiness(meat).
3. An ice cube is like a cookie because his acting can span from good to terrible depending on the movie. Like cookies with different types. ex. choc. chip- good, butter pecan-awful.
4. A knife is like a whisper because it is sly in the fact that you must be aware when trying to detect it.
5. Kissing is like a careful collision because you kiss carefully.
6. Fish meat feels like a peeled grape.
7. Deer guts feel like leftover spaghetti.
8. Falling in love sounds like a quiet instance of solitude, or moment embraced by energetic attitude.
9. A dentist’s drill feels like a nascar race because it shakes your body periodically.
10. Tomato soup tastes like bleeding hearts because it drips from the roof of your mouth even after you've swallowed it.

valentines day post

Out of the dark we came into the... Light, a massive sign of relief brushed upon us. Finally, we had made it out from the grasps of the treacherous tunnels which lay beneath the misty mountains. It was a long dangerous trip that could had led to our deaths at any moment. Our journey would take us underneath the mountains on a at the very least four day hike. The trail itself was barely the width of a car and at points we crossed paths with ancient bridges which carried us across a cliff that lay so deep that darkness was all we could see.
       As the final morning approached we took shelter on the side of the path. I could not sleep for the fright of never waking up was much too great; suddenly out of the darkness came a squeal filled with terror. Jumping up from my sleeping bag i bashed my head on a rock which was stuck out from the walls that lined that portion of the path. Moments passed and the cavern was silent. Then, to the south of us a pounding was heard, followed by the sound of trumpets. Oddly enough these mountains were not known to have been occupied by the crafty ork which sparsely  populated the forests to the west. As the beat of war drums approached you noticed a stench, mankind could not have produced a scent that would reek as bad as this. Fear filled our faces as we bailed from our sleeping quarters down the path to safety.  

Change Poem

Hunting Season
Blaze
Orange
Fills
The
Woods

The
Faint
Sound
of
gunfire
in
the
distance

Your
Prey
Walks
down
the
trail

You
aim
your
barrel
and...
boom

Bucketlist

Ten things i must do before i die...
1. See at least one game at every NHL arena(nhl)
2. See a stanley cup game 7
3. Pocess at least one jersey from every NHL & D1 college team
4. Raise the stanley cup, and the Calder cup
5. Shoot a trophy big game animal
6. Build a outdoor ice rink
7. Save a life
8. Serve in the USMC for at least one tour of duty
9. Ride in a nascar
10. Play hockey with Wayne Gretzsky, Brett Hull, Bobby Orr, Cal Clutterbuck and Jeff Carter.  

Ode to my Winter Hat

Vexlar Hat, oh Vexlar Hat you are so warm and cozy
I found you stuffed under a chair at our shack
You keep my head from freezing in the winter days
When i place you on the hat rack my head begins to get cold
I love your red label which I' am proud to wear
You are great company, even though you have no voice of your own
Your warmth resembles that of a dogs fur
Every stitch is etched with the utter most perfection
From the tag to the washing directions you are a  masterpiece
But you have no bill to shade the sun from my eyes
This flaw does not dent the overall quality at all
You are still among the greatest hats ever made

Mitchell
Courageous, Compassionate, dedicated
Brother to Kelsey, Justin and Hunter
Lover of hockey, hunting, fishing, and outdoors activity
Feels joy whenever around the ice, or in the outdoors
Needs caffeine, comedy
Gives off a good vibe, sense of humor
Fears spiders, the Apocalypse, oompa loompas
Nobody to go hungry, but at the same time people to stop being obese
Resident of Apple Valley, the great state of Minnesota, a citizen of the US of A.
Deinhammer

Limerick

Limerick...
There once lived an ogar named trudy
His house did look quite fruity
He lived all alone
In his quiet little home
Where his wife was always snootie

2/9/11 Journal entry

       Today i woke up to the sound of my car alarm going off. It has been three years since i moved out east and started work for the FDNY. Which is why it makes no sense for me to stay at this crumby town house in the south side of Brooklyn. Much of my evenings are filled with the sound of shouting or occasional gunfire. Many of the mornings i wake up a door slaming shut from across the street, courtesy of my jerk neighbor. I have but one thing that makes my day worth living, it is the dedication i have to my job as a new york city firefighter. Everyday I risk my life on the job, only to come home and worry about falling asleep in front of the tv, then waking up to realize that i had been robbed while is drifted off into sweet slumber. If someone came up to me on the street and asked me whether it was all worth it, the danger, the uncertainty i would look down at them and nod yes. Iam proud of what i do... 

embarrasing moment

     My most embarassing moment was as public as any can get. I was in Mankato for a hockey game; it was the third period and we led the home team opponents by one. The puck was frozen to the left of the opposing goaltender, our coach decided to change lines and get fresh legs on the ice. He looked down to the coach in charge of the offensive half of the game and gave him the signal to send out our line. Stepping onto the ice we glided down to the faceoff circle.
       I circled aroud the top of the the poind like a shark searching for prey. As I lined up for the puck drop I suddenly lost my footing and without warning i fell flat on my as*! MY stomach sank, i looked up only to see the referee laughing, he about to fall over too. Blushed from the embarrasment i took the faceoff and proceeded with the game. We ended up losing 3-2 as the result of a breakaway goal with less than five minutes to go in the third.

2/3/11 Daily Journal

       When you picture beauty, romantic sun sets from the deckof a ship anchored off the coast of the mediterranean; or a nice quiet walk under the moonlight as autum approaches pop into your head. Even as these rank near the top they are not "the most beautiful places" I have had the luxury to experience.
       As I ponder through my thoughts one area seems to stand out amoung all others. Even black hills fail in comparison to this heaven upon earth.  This oasis of wilderness stands apart from all others, the North country, or as others call it; the IRON RANGE is a hidden gem when you think of beauty across america.
       Picture what the americas looked like years ago, before colonialists ever stepped foot upon the sands of this great land. Only a select few areas offer that grace and beauty. I have spent days living off the lands of the boundary waters, and i dont mean sleeping in a tent either. When i say living off the land i mean trusting your life in the hands of mother nature. I can tell you one thing which is for sure, there is no greater experience, than that of a day in the wild.