Happy Groundhog Day and I have eyes for another

February 2, 2010

Happy Groundhog Day!

As you are all well aware, today is Groundhog Day. If you were not “well aware” of this then the opening sentence of “Happy Groundhog Day!” followed by “today is Groundhog Day” should have caught you up to speed. Now that we all know it is Groundhog Day, let’s talk about this most ancient of holidays. Every year on February 2nd, we gather early in the morning and look to the sky because something miraculous happens: a vortex.

A vortex of time and space opens and a torrent wind sucks a select few people into it. All around the globe people are chosen with the key number being 15. These lucky few are then trapped inside this vortex where they are forced to relive one day over and over again until they finally succeed in accomplishing the “perfect day”.

Some may remember the Groundhog Day of 1991 when a capricious 14 year old Ukrainian girl was chosen. Our first glimpse of her was not flattering. She was at least 60 pounds over weight with fat muffin topping out of her impossibly tight black jeans. Her face covered in acne from her nearly 100% candy diet. Her thin hair was in patches around her bumpy skull. She wore a Wham! t-shirt. We all questioned the Gods. Why? Why choose this girl? What could she possibly achieve? Why is she drooling so much? Why Wham!? They broke up in 1986. That’s when it happened.

In one swift movement, she balanced herself on one set of toes. It was in an instant that this slob of a young high school girl sprung to life with a pointed right foot to the ground and balanced her doughy mess of a body on top of it. Her silhouette was like a dreidel, if dreidel’s were made of bacon fat. And in that moment, we all could see what she could become if given an infinite amount of days to work on this craft tirelessly and lose all that weight and start eating and sleeping properly and receive proper training and be guided in the right direction.

We all know that fat little girl went on to become “The Swan of Odessa” Oksana Baiul.

Yes, a scant two years later the enigmatic Oksana Baiul won the gold medal at the 1994 Winter Olympic Games. An even greater honor was bestowed on her as she was named to Barbara Walters’ list of “One of the 10 Most Fascinating Personalities of 1994”. With no higher honor to achieve outside of maybe a Nobel Peace Prize or Nathan’s hot dog eating contest, Oksana had accomplished it all. Oksana began her Groundhog Day fat, unlovable, and with a slight case of dysentery. “The Swan” ended her Groundhog Day losing 100 pounds, perfecting figure skating to a jaw dropping art form, regular bowels, and an unmistakable ear for Latin Jazz music.

Today, Oksana is a hero to us all and a great symbol of what this beautiful, magical, completely unfounded and ridiculous holiday, Groundhog Day, can be. “The Swan of Odessa” successfully operates her own figure skating apparel line, cleverly titled, The Oksana Baiul Collection. And Oksana currently resides in the greatest state in the Union, New motherfucking Jersey.

Some may ask why I chose Oksana Baiul as my example of the greatness that this most holy of holydays has to offer. There are plenty of others who have achieved because of Groundhog day: Tiger Woods, Reggie Miller, Horatio Alger, Jared from those Subway commercials, Melissa Etheridge, Antonio Banderas et cetera  First, because Oksana’s 1994 Winter Olympics Gold Medal winning routine is the reason why Jesus wrote the Bible. And second, because I believe Oksana Baiul may be single. And I would just like to say:



WE WILL HAVE SARCASTIC AND DEEPLY DEPRAVED CHILDREN WHO HAVE REMARKABLY GOOD BALANCE, GRACE, AND A PENCHANT FOR DOING TIGHT JUMPING SPINS ON A SHEET OF ICE IN FLAMBOYANTLY GAY COSTUMES, which will of course be all designed by your personal Oksana Baiul Collection, THEY WILL BE GIFTED WITH IMAGINATION AND A LOVE FOR STEVEN SEAGAL, as well as an unquestionable natural ability for dancing and skating that will be forcibly thrust upon them until they have either a breakdown at an early age and become drug addicts or become gold medal winners in figure skating and later earn a more than modest living skating for the Ice Capades.


Honestly, you already could be “The Swan of New Jersey” considering I tend to doubt anyone has ever had that nickname.


I know we have never spoken, Oksana, but I love you. I have loved you for a long time. I started writing this post at around 9:30am and it is 10am and that means somewhere in that half hour I thought “You know who is a random person? Oksana Baiul” and now we are immortal soulmate lovers best friends amigos amores amours amor chinchillas. I don’t say use this word a lot (maybe 4 or 5 times a week depending on how many hot chicks I see, every week since I was in first grade when I saw Courtney which is like 20 years ago so that equals over 4500 times):

I love you, Oksana Baiul.

I feel like I started this all wrong. Clearly, there is a more tactful way for me to go about this. There has to be an avenue that I am missing that will show respect and at the same time my undying love for Oksana Baiul. I will pen her a letter.

Dear Oksana Baiul,

I love you.

No! I cannot start with the best part of the letter. I need to build up to the revelation of my love for her. This isn’t Memento. I can’t start at the end at work my way backwards to the beginning which is really the end and at the same time is an explanation for how the end even could have existed in the beginning. This is a tough one.

Dear Oksana Baiul,

No! Anyone can write “Dear Oksana Baiul”. I need more purpose, I need more emotion and I need to reflect the desperate times that we are currently living in with this dire economy struggling to get to its feet through bipartisanism in Washington.

To My Dearest Oksana Baiul,

I have watched you from afar. I have kept my distance allowing your fame and success to mature. I have followed your every move-

Ugh, now I sound like a stalker. This is much harder than I thought it would be. That’s what she said. Damn it! I wish I was chosen for the Groundhog Day vortex so I could spend an infinite amount of days crafting this letter. Choosing each word perfectly. Learning calligraphy to then write the letter by hand. I could purchase a wax seal. Parchment paper. One of those fountain pens. Oooh I know, a quill. That would be fucking sweet. A quill, a wooden desk with a hole in it for the ink well, sheets of parchment paper, a candle, a wax seal. That just sounds so romantic, also it sounds like a time and era where my age expectancy would be 32. I’d probably die of the plague or the common cold if I was using a quill and a wax seal to send love letters to Ukrainians.

To My Dearest Oksana Baiul,

Doesth thou havestith a boyfriend? A man of respective age who sharestith your bedroom chamber? A man whose rough hands cup your alabaster cheek untilth the ‘morrow? A man who smelleth your golden hair and whisperthisth to your gentle ears the words of the storied poets: Homer, Shakespeare, Bruce Springsteen? Doesth thouest…. Do you have a dude or not? Your website makes no mention of a dude-

That got a little frustrating to write and way too formal. She’s from the Ukraine not the 16th Century. Maybe I should be a little more casual. Just start light and easy. I’m a cool guy. Nothing to worry about. We can just chat. Little chit-chat. Then I get to how much I eternally love her later. Put the Facebook moves on her.

Subject: Whaddup

Message: Hey, Oksana! What’s up? I was just bored at work (you know how that is), just cruising around FB and I saw you changed your AV. I like it. That’s a sweet picture with you and Kristi Yamaguchi. I bet you have a lot to talk about being gold medalists and your home country’s national sweethearts and all. Also, Happy Groundhog’s Day! Did you see that Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow? Another tough winter is a bummer. Where’s all that “global warming” we keep hearing about, am I right? Anyway, just thought I would say “hi”.


K-Swidg-jizzle aka Jordan

Well that is the most depressing thing I could have ever written in my life. I’ve read suicide notes with more hope than that bullshit. Oh my God! That is depressing. I’m just depressed knowing that actually came out of my head*. U-G-H, every part of that depresses me. The pathetic commenting on her avatar. You know you went specifically to her page. You’ve been going to her page everyday for last two months just looking for an excuse to message her.

And “Punxsutawney Phil”? That oversized rodent is the most depressing part. I can’t believe that motherfucker saw his shadow this morning. More fucking cold ass winter. Stupid fucking rat! And I can’t believe PETA gave us that half-hearted bullshit saying they were going to replace that mess with a robot and then DIDN’T. You know how fucking psyched I was for a “robot groundhog”? The most psyched! Christ that would have been badass. This holiday needs a robot groundhog. Sure, the Heaven’s open up and the Gods show us their faces for a brief moment to then choose at random 15 people on Earth to give an impossible opportunity to help them cultivate some natural talent to change the rest of the world forever. That’s cool and all, but a stupid sorry ass groundhog?


Imagine what a robot groundhog could do. The possibilities are limitless. Armor plating, jet packs, laser guided missiles, a microwave. It would fucking rock! I don’t care if they make one little bugger or they make a 1000 foot one that destroys cities. Just knowing a robot groundhog was out there or just knowing there was a robot groundhog in development in some underground secret military facility would make me happy when I go to sleep at night. That and, of course, Oksana Baiul by my side.

Dear Oksana Baiul,

My name is Jordan and I can only think of two things that could ever make me happy in this life. The first would be a nuclear powered robot groundhog that is used as the flag bearer for the American military war machine.

At just under 1500 feet tall, its chrome finish would reflect the Earth’s yellow Sun’s light for miles. This light would be a flaming beacon of these United States and the strength of our democratically controlled robotic battle power. From top to bottom this robot groundhog would be built for destruction and, of course, spreading “freedom”. Its four metallic groundhog paws would be decorated with over 100 hydraulically or pneumatically driven, six-barreled, air-cooled, electrically fired M61 Vulcan cannon machine guns. Its 350 foot tail would be entirely comprised of razor wire and can achieve whipping speeds up to 400 miles per hour. The spinal column houses the world’s largest uranium enriched missile depot. The crown jewel of the robot groundhog would be the state of the art ion cannon sitting atop its head. Although it has not been used in any real life scenarios it is believed that the ion cannon could be so powerful it could undo life itself. If that were only enough, the robot groundhog is also proficient in hand-to-hand combat and martial arts weapons such as nunchucks, bow staff and samurai swords aka katannas. This robot groundhog is one thing that would make me happy.

That second thing would be you. I love you, Oksana Baiul.

I love you and I love insane robot death machines that will fight on the side of the Red, White, and Blue. Your grace and beauty on and off the ice has captivated this young man’s affection. Also, giant robots that are created to look like fairly passive animals that now are equipped with horrific amounts of destructive capabilities and also fight for truth and justice and, of course, these fifty great states of ours.

I do not believe anything else will provide me any true happiness outside of your soft touch, penetrating eyes, and “Fall of the Berlin Wall”-era Eastern European accent. You are what I desire. You and, maybe, a 1500 foot moving metal structure in the shape of a groundhog that brings death to the enemies of this old Star Spangled banner.

One last time.

I love you, Oksana Baiul. And Happy Groundhog Day!

It would certainly be a shame if I ever sought out medical treatment for my brain. And that rhymed.


20 Responses to “Happy Groundhog Day and I have eyes for another”

  1. Zees84 said

    Dude! Searchable archives? When did that happen?

    That is literally all the time I have for my favorite work-attention diversion today. Boo!

    But you don’t need me to tell you that you are nuts. Crazy nuts, not balls. (Haiku Wednesday, holla!)

    I am working my way through a list of about 200 donors that someone thought would be easy to read if it was in 6 pt. So you can all rest assured your day is going better than mine.

  2. MLF said


    I don’t really know what to say. I’m laughing but I am also genuinely starting to wonder about your brain…groundhog robots? Although I wasn’t too surprised when you wrote up the list of men over 60 so I’m not really sure what that says about my own brain. Most likely that I am effed in the head but whatevs.

  3. This sentence marks the first time I actually said “WHAT?” out loud while reading: “We all know that fat little girl went on to become “The Swan of Odessa” Oksana Baiul.”

    I’m going to say something I’ve never said to you before – unless you count the 113 times I probably have already said it to you before – I love you, Jordan. Search! Archives! ROBOT GROUNDHOGS! To quote one of our favorite musical geniuses: I’m so happy I could die.

    As God as my witness, I solemnly swear that should you ever seek medical treatment to “fix” whatever is “wrong” with your brain, I will come find you and smack you upside the head until it’s just as, if not more, fucked up as it previously was. I mean it.

    I LOVE EVERYTHING. I can’t even blame this behavior on too much caffeine today – I’ve only had one enormous coffee. It doesn’t take much to make me happy.

    I need to show you off today. Yesterday I showed a coworker your argument about not wanting a girl that’s into football. That’s been my stance for ages, but she swears guys want it, so she forces herself on fantasy football teams, etc. I say who wants a girl crashing the football party? No one. I want that just as much as I want a guy crashing my pedicure. Get your own fucking foot rub. So thank you. And now, for something totally different, I’m going to show off your lunacy. Well done.

  4. Forgetful Lucy said

    Get out of the city! We have Archive Links! Well done Jordan.

    I thought this was quite sweet. It put a bright smile on my face. I don’t have the urge to compare you to a bowl of cereal, at all. A giant robotic groundhog sounds pretty cool, as long as it’s fighting for the good guys. If you had spent the same amount of brain power planning specs for a robotic Oksana, then I’d be concerned.
    In 2008 for $2500 you could’ve had dinner with the real thing in the name of charity. Look into that for 2010, let us know how it works out.

  5. Zees84 said

    Upon my first pass-through, I thought the word you only say 4-5 times a week depending on how many chicks you see was “amor chinchilla”.

    I was 30 shades of concerned for you and your future romantic life. But I cleared that up.

  6. PWG said

    I fucking love that MS Paint robot groundhog, and I’m going to make it my avatar somewhere. My current 2 avatars are wine in a forest and a baby in a Pope hat. I think the triumvirate of liquor/babypope/U!S!A!robotgroundhog just about sums up my life and everything I love. (Merriam Webster says “triumvirate” means “a body of triumvirs.” Fuck you, MW, nobody thinks that’s helpful.)

    Two thumbs up on the searchable archives, thanks for reluctantly learning new web skills for us.

    I know I said you could help a brother out by posting critical news events in your blog, but my life has been so insane for the last 7 days that I don’t even know what you’ve posted. I’m going to catch up this week. And you know, treat you to my scintillating opinions on the treasure trove of madness that is your brain.

    In the meantime, since you’re so interested I know, this is what I did this week: a shit ton of work to prepare for an impending merger that eventually fell apart. 18-hour workdays for no merger payoff. That was awesome! Followed by a birthday party that grew to include 39 children under the age of 7. (Keep your kids away from organized sports – too many friends.) At which party the pizza failed to arrive and the little Lords of whatthefuckwasit, decapitated pig head with Flies? started chanting pizza! pizza! and pounding the table with their fists and forks. Followed a day later by the birthday boy coming home sick and throwing up 22 times in 10 hours, including once on my feet. Gah, at least there’s a man in my backyard now cleaning up my dogs’ poop for money. That’s not a euphemism for anything, I’m just ecstatic that someone will do that for $14 a month because I have no time to do it right now. No. Time.

    • Sweet baby Jesus in a Pope hat accompanied by a robot groundhog, I’ve missed you. Glad you’re still alive.

      • PWG said

        You like the two scant references to Jordan’s hard work, followed by several paragraphs of my own boring life stories? Hey Jordan, thanks for hosting my blog in your comments section. You’re a prince.

      • After 6 months “with” me, I don’t know why you all continue to be so surprised by my bizarre love of the insane in the mundane, and the frequency with which I profess said love to those who entertain me with the insanity… I should be old news by now.

        God, that is depressing.

    • Zees84 said

      PWG, please let me know where you chose to comment on past posts, or if you’ll be putting it all together in one epic comment. These things are important in my life.

  7. For the record, your Facebook message is way too proper. There aren’t nearly enough grammatical/spelling errors in there to qualify as a real attempt at picking someone random up on Facebook. Here are real gems I received from a guy recently:

    Message —
    Subject: “thanks for adding me you have nice smile”
    Content: “hi babe from you single”
    Followed immediately after with a wall post: “nice meet you”

    I’m sorry, Facebook Romeo, but are you allergic to punctuation and articles? What’s happening? I should’ve known by your profile picture where you appear to be leering creepily at nothing in particular that you would be awkwardly bad news.

    Best part of all? I’M HIS ONLY FRIEND. And Facebook keeps peer pressuring me to “connect” with him or something. Every day, he shows up on the right side of my screen as “Mike is only 10% active. Help him out!” I’m sorry… but are you trying to get me murdered, Facebook? Because I’m not cool with that.

    Anyway, I would actually recommend you open with the subject of “my amor chinchilla” and then send the old timey style message. Because I would be 100% on board with that. I’m pretty sure Ukrainian-born Jersey transplants are known specifically for their awesome senses of humor… so really, you can’t lose.

    • kristenstewartwantsit said

      Stanza four made me laugh in the out loud fashion.

      • Just in case people didn’t believe me: Exhibit A

        Some things worth noting:
        1. Brewster is my friend’s cat. Brewster has 5 more friends than Mike. Alternatively stated, Brewster has 6 times as many friends, since Mike only has me. (This is starting to sound like a word problem… “If A has 6 times as many friends in his social network as B, and A isn’t even a homo sapien with the ability to speak and type, what are the odds B sits outside girls’ windows in a black hoodie at night?”)
        2. Brewster is hands down the #1 friend suggestion Facebook makes for me. Apparently Facebook doesn’t hold a very high opinion of me if it thinks the best I can do friend-wise is a cat. And then it’s all “You know what? Why don’t you just connect with Mike and go get stabbed because seriously you’re not doing anyone any favors here.” Assholes.

    • Zees84 said

      HB, you’re a poet and I’ll bet you sure as fuck didn’t know it.

      Dammit! I’m such a know-it-all. Perhaps I should be a teacher.

      • The credit has to go to Facebook Romeo over there, who could fit in well with the World Star Hip Hop commenters. If I could’ve asked for one thing, it would’ve been for one final typo so that it would’ve read “nice meat you”. Imagine the various ways that could be interpreted a la “turkey badass rambo”…

        I’ve told you all before that normal people don’t talk to me. At least it provides some amusement.

  8. Crystal said


  9. amanda said

    i figure skate!!!
    this year, USA suuuuuucks!!!1
    ice dancing is alright but wer not expecting any medals really
    and did i mention that i ❤ shaun white?
    cuz i do.
    he is soo funny
    he is one of the very few attrraaaactive gingers. hes not a ginger actually because they have red hair and freckles plus they are gross.
    if you have red hair, cool.
    freckles? cool too.
    both? alright.
    both and ur gross. theres a ginger.

  10. Susanelle said

    I cannot and do not believe that when you have “eyes for another” that “another” is Oksana Baiul. Get out. What, do we look like idiots out here????

    What is it — is it “opposite” day or something? Are you pledging for a frat or something? Do you have a lot of money riding on some kind of weird bet???

    This better be some kind of big meta thing.

  11. CamboD said

    All I have to say is this concise and accurate piece of information.
    I’d hit that.
    This is all.

    • Susanelle said

      Yeah, it’s well established that sexually functional men will hit anything, but to turn from Kristen Stewart and even Ashley Green to Oksana Baiul… well, it makes me question everything I’ve ever held dear.

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