Something needs to be said about the buddy who deposits debris, which clearly resembles fecal matter, in a water fountain. Something needs to be said, my friends, because I witnessed said transgression last week while attempting to quench my thirst at Chicago’s O’hare International Airport. The object, which I promptly deduced to be chewing tobacco, got me thinking which act is more Done Here, Buddy: leaving chewing tobacco or ACTUALLY dropping a deuce in a public water fountain.

After several days of deep analysis, I have concluded that leaving chewing tobacco is far worse. Here’s why. If a person drops fat in a public water fountain, we can surmise that the individual is either a mentally-challenged thrill seeker who doesn’t know any better, or, even, a rebellious  artist protesting air travel. The individual would also need to be commended for their ability to stay hoisted atop the water fountain for the commensurate duration to perform such a bodily function. On the other hand, the individual who leaves the chewing tobacco is making no statement whatsoever, except for the fact that he or she is totally Done Here, Buddy.

I'll let you decide who is more Done Here, Buddy - the transgressor or O'hare Airport's custodial staff.

How Done Here, Buddy is it when a conversation between new acquaintances reaches that awkward moment when the only remaining question is, “what do you do for a living?” Perhaps my current employment predicament leaves me feeling slightly more sensitive to such a topic, but I can’t help but cringe every time this inquiry is made. When asked, it comes in the form of terrible desperation. The feeling one gets when asked this question is analogous to the impending doom Odysseus must have felt when Calypso forbid him to leave her island. Wanting to control our own fate, this question reminds us that there is something greater holding us back, disabling us from pursuing our true dream. In this case, that dream is a genuine conversation.  As Harvey Dent so eloquently states, “the night is always darkest before the dawn.” Be strong, fellow life friends. There are brighter  days ahead. We’re all in this together, buddy.

In honor of Halloween, You’re Done Here, Buddy presents this week’s Epic Bro Production. Enjoy!

Anyone who’s attended college west of the Mississippi or in the crunchier parts of the Northeast should be familiar with the activity that is the subject of today’s post. Slacklining, a pastime of total headballs and identity discovering college students, is best described by the Colorado Slackline Club as the sport of walking a small, flat nylon rope between two points. Yet, i’m not totally sure why such a hobby should be considered a sport or an activity, even.  My aim is not to suggest that some of the slacklining communities’ more heroic fetes are Done Here, Buddy. A slackline session, however, more often than not resembles a potluck dinner gone drum circle, in which no food is served and no drums are present … well, maybe  a few drums are present.  You know. The djembe. The congo … the Done Here, Buddy.

This slackliner enjoys a moment on the line.

If the HSAS is in fact Orange, why am I allowed in the airport when there is a "significant risk of terrorist attacks?" So Done Here, Buddy.

Have you recently travelled through a major United States airport? You know the ones I’m talking about: Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, Washington D.C. If so, you’ve probably heard that robotic voice that automates the Homeland Security Advisory warning. A recent trip home to a certain city beginning with “C” ending in “O” and in the middle is Hicag, got me thinking how Done Here, Buddy this system is.  Let’s be honest, guys.  Does having this information orated throughout an airport actually make us feel more safe? Give me a break, Washington. 1 out 1 people I consulted contend that the “warning level” is always Orange.  When President Bush left the White House, many of us thought that his Periclean style of governing–creating false realities as a way to control the emotions of the masses, and, therefore, garner their unwavering support –would become an ideology of the past. Yet, the Obama administration has done nothing to overturn this blatant system of manipulation.  While I would never suggest that President Obama is Done Here, Buddy, it’s clear that his stance on and the entire system of Homeland Security  is.

For those of you that don’t know, the Backstreet Boys are back!!! Decked out in their usual garb and classic facial hair patterns, the new-look BB made an emphatic return to prime time last night when they performed their new hit single “Striaight Through My Heart” on the Tonight Show with Conan O’brien. In honor of their return, I have developed an evaluation system to measure how Done Here, Buddy these jokers are.

1. Raspy, washed up voices: 4 Buddies
2. Horribly choreographed dance moves: 4 Buddies
3. (Backstreet) “Boys” who are clearly bald or balding: 3 Buddies
4. “Boys” over the age of 30: 3 Buddies
5. Buddies who are done here: 4 Buddies

Having received an impressive score of 18/20 Buddies, it is safe to say that the Backstreet Boys are officially Done Here.

Notice AJ’s step through and gaze in the opening sequence. Sophocles couldn’t have written a more tragic narrative. I’m not sure if these guys are back, but they are definitely Done Here, Buddy.

If If I could take two things to a deserted island, it would be this picture and a box of tissues. Photo Credit: GQ, December 2006.

More often than not, my posts are inspired by everyday events and happenings that I see in person. Nevertheless, there are times when public figures, such as celebrities, need to be called out for their doneness. While there are never enough adjectives to describe the infinite doneness of  a credible news source like E! Online, a recent glance at its website provided some pretty significant fuel to a starlet’s already thoroughly blazing fire. Once regarded as the princess of Hollywood for starring in such movies as “The Parent Trap” and “Mean Girls,” Lindsay Lohan, but more specifically her lips and overall physical appearance, have taken a brutal turn for the Done Here, Buddy. It’s no secret that Lohan’s run-ins with alcoholism, excessive partying, wardrobe malfunctions and basic disregard for everything not “Done Here, Buddy” have been well documented by the press. It should come as no surprise, then, that Lohan has become the poster-child for one very epic song lyric: “The Mo’ Money We Come Across, The Mo’ Problems We See.”

Walking the thin line between generic hipster and San Francisco archetype, this guy, with his cut-off brim, is clearly Done Here, Buddy.

The guy sporting the cut-off brim on his cap looks to the ground to answer this fundamental question: Am I Done Here, Buddy? Photo: Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, San Francisco, CA, October 2009.

During the last three weeks of August, I was temporarily employed as a summer camp counselor at Kid’s Outdoor Club in San Francisco. While there are no doubt multiple perks to working at a summer camp–eating PB & Js while the campers aren’t looking, meeting and greeting cute moms during pick-up and drop-off etc.– those that have worked in summer camps know that there is nothing better than stockpiling on left-over Lost & Found items. The item I acquired, and which will serve as the subject for today’s post, is the metallic water bottle. This product represents a more healthy and environmentally sustainable to the conventional Nalgene, argue some environmentalists: http://www.eartheasy.com/article_nalgene_bottles.html

Yet, a recent sip from a KLEEN KANTEEN I acquired from the aforementioned Lost & Found left me pondering how Done Here, Buddy these so called “better options” actually are. Milliseconds after taking my first sip from the newly acquired metal water bottle, I couldn’t help but notice a horrible metallic aftertaste. Unacceptable! I was hoping for the taste of natural H2O, not a science project gone Done Here, Buddy.

The metallic water bottle seconds away from getting canned.