who am i? where am i? what am i doing?
a small man named mike saul created this web
page to fill time. he is 23 and growing tired of things, but hope exists in his life, even if it is
only a small cup sitting on his tv. he can be found in the burbs of chicago.
want to call me?
(800) 659-4444 ext 5991.
Feel free to leave a message
even though it says Roxanne. That is me, well, not the voice, but the voice mail
other things i do
thinking about hesterman
i woke up in a strange place
notes from jail
calvin and hobbes
what jail is like
alex ross art
Boston is cool
1. Boston Red Sox games (Yankees SUCK!)
2. the accent
3. the attitude
4. Last years trip to Boston...yeah
5. Flying around the city would be cool
created by me in 2001
NFL2K the season has been erased
Happy 4th of July everyone! This holiday always makes me happy. Why you ask. Well,
something about just sitting back and watching fireworks makes me excited. The idea
that they actually pay people to set off explosions...well, I'm pretty sure you catch my
One of the best things is my Grandmother lives right across from the Lisle Fest. Yes,
the Lisle Festival. The largest July 4th celebration in the state of Illinois (Chicago
celebrates on the 3rd so everyone can go out and get drunk since very few people have to
work on the 4th. A business way to think.). Since I was conceived I have been at my
Grandmother's house to watch the fireworks.
As a young child I spent most of the time jumping into the ditch as the fireworks exploded
over my head. I also have a great firework injury story. Feel free to ask me about.
Usually I will tell my wonderful eye-dart injury story right after it.
Another wonderful story about the 4th is the 90 Sauls in 1990. See, my Grandma Saul
(different grandmother but still sweet) had this big idea of marching down in the
Lisle 4th of July parade if we had 90 Sauls in 1990. We actually only had 85 people
drive down the streets. A few people couldn't make it and my Grandmother was very sick
that day. My Grandmother passed away many years ago, but my Grandfather dropped off
the photo album of the entire scene. There are very few pictures of me (damn it
there was 90 of us). Only a few memories lay in my mind from the entire event.
For some reason 1990 sounds like a year when I was older and more mature, but hell,
I was only 12. It was hot, one of the hottest July 4ths in years. The other thing was
that I got to throw out candy to the crowd. That was awesome except for the fact I ran
out of candy about half way through.
Anyway, I'm heading off to my Grandmother's right now. I'm going to eat a burger, sit down
and drink some cream soda, and am content. The feeling of content has been missing in my
life for a while. I feel there should be a little more craziness in my life right now
instead of the things I have been doing. I'm not going to be able to explain what I mean
really well, but hell; it's the 4th. I'm going to watch some fireworks and have some fun.
You should have fun too. See you all later, and if you want to stop by my Grandmother's
there will be a Mountain Dew for you.
The Continuing Adventures of "I see a million faces, and I rocked em all."
Let me tell you about Gilley's. Gilley's is a little diner in Portsmouth, NH. It was
opened by a simple man named Gilley. When he retired about 3,000 people showed up to say
good-bye to this man. But Gilley's the diner did not end. Now Ed cooks there for all
to see. Ed is an amazing man. The diner is opened nice and late so that after a fun filled
evening of the drink entering my liver I can stop by and get a nice little burger. The entire
diner is for the long lines the emerge at 2:00 when the bars close.
Now let me tell you a little about Ed. Ed is about 30 - 35 years old. While I was there
Ed never stopped moving. He was really the only one in the diner cooking and taking orders.
While he is cooking the food for the person who just ordered in front of you, Ed shouts,
"Talk to me." Your sign to order. Your food comes up in about 30 seconds, but while you wait
you get to hear Ed speak. I was so impressed by the entire scene that I attempted to purchase
a Gilley's T-shirt. Ed informed that they were all out, but offered to sell me the
Gilley's T-shirt he was wearing, and only for $1.50. The only thing that stopped me was that
Ed would have to continue to cook the entire night with no shirt on and might get some grease
on him. Plus the shirt really did not look like it should be worn outside of a diner. He
also informed me that he was a Yankees fan, which is something not allowed in New Hampshire.
A friend told me a story about how a fight was about to break out in the diner. Ed stopped cooking
and jumped over the counter, grabbed the shirts of the two guys and kicked them out and
shouted at the top of his lungs, "YOU DO NOT FIGHT AT GILLEY'S!" So, if you actually
go to Portsmouth, NH Gilley's should be the place to go. Fuck the ocean. Fuck all the other
stuff. Go to Gilley's.
The Gay Bar
Now I'm pretty sure I'll be getting a lot more people to visit my site due to just the title
of this little anecdote. While we were in Pittsburgh we had a terrible time trying to find
a place to hang out in the evening. After about an hour of searching and seeing some
Pittsburgh hookers we did find a few bars to hang out. I guess it was near some college, but
they (the bars not the hookers) were open and serving alcohol. So we just kept going into a
bar and getting a drink. At some point my tolerance dropped, which is sad due to the fact my
tolerance was never quite high to begin with. So at some point I get trashed. Then we enter
a gay bar. My friend informs me since I was a bit drunk, but we had to continue to drink.
While a patron of the bar attempts to pick up my friend a lady friend starts talking to me.
At one point I mention my name, Mike. She then proceeds to tell me this story. "The
wonderful thing about the name Mike is if you walk into a place with 18 guys and say,
"My name is Mike." 13 of the guys will say, "Hi Mike." and then continue to tell the
other 5 guys that my name is Mike." I stand there and think to myself that this is her
subtle way of informing me that I'm in a gay bar. Now I understand I look innocent
and about the age of 14, but please I do deserve some credit. At least a little...
At some point during college somebody asked me what I do. My response was school and major.
They stopped me in mid-sentence and asked what do I do besides school. I struggled for an
answer. I now have officially lost my usual response. Saying you work is a really crappy
answer. I know I do things, only I'm not quite sure what they are. Alas.
And in the final words of Ed. "I don't fuck things." Damn straight. I'm going to go
watch some fireworks now.
Hello from Lisle, IL. It is good to be back.
"I SEE A MILLION FACES AND I ROCKED EM ALL!" Bon Jovi
This became the theme of my little jaunt across the eastern seaboard. Jovi, you are correct.
If you saw me, I rocked you. Trust me on this.
I finally achieved one of my goals in life. It was to drive up to Maine and eat some
Maine lobster. Well, I did. One aspect I really never need to experience again is dropping
a live lobster into the pot of boiling water. What can I say, I'm a wuss. Even though the lobster was
tasty...and messy. I never really thought it would be that messy. I'm pretty sure
some lobster juice is still sitting on Ron's mirror, and a piece of the shell is laying
under the couch. But another goal has been achieved.
A large portion of my time was spent trying to imitate a nice Boston accent. I got it about
half of the time, the other half I sounded like a stereotypical Hollywood Asian accent from the 50s.
A smile would cross my face every single time somebody said something. We got out of the
car one time and this biker woman yells at us, "You got to pay the meta'. They ticket hea'.
50 dallas. Hatbreaka'" (You got to pay the meter. They ticket here 50 dollars. Heartbreaker.)
(I'm sorry, my writing of a Boston accent is horrible.) I agree. Getting a 50 dollar
ticket would really suck. I would like to take this time to give my props to whomever it is from Rochester who keeps visiting my website. Rochester came up many times on the trip. With a Boston accent you say it like 're' not 'raw' at the beginning. See, I'm growing everyday.
When the trip was almost over I started to get nervous that I didn't get to have the long ass
day in the car of just driving. Silly me. I forgot about the ride home. 17 hours...bring it. I attempted
to monopolize the time driving (Kevin didn't mind) just as I did when I took my trip with
Marc to Fargo. I do love the driving. There I did all of the driving.
Here I was only able to get in 12 hours...then my mind started to drive me crazy. My body would
tense up when I would pass a truck. So I gave it up. My body failed me...which isn't really
a big surprise.
One of the games I play in the car at the beginning of the trip is I pick two states that I hope
to see on the license plates of cars around me. This trip I picked Nevada and Wisconsin. Only
saw one. The last time I played the game I picked Florida. The trip was almost done and
we were driving through Minneapolis. Then some guy cuts me off in some crazy traffic
area and I yell at the guy in my normal sense of yelling but not angry, and then I noticed it.
The guy that cut me off had Florida on his license plate. Yells of joy erupted from my mouth,
with a few "Screw you Florida, learn to drive...ah memories. SPRING BREAK 2000! NO REGRETS! NO APOLOIGIES!
I still hate that fucking state of Ohio.
5 of 8 days drunk makes a good trip...right?!?
I'm saving the better stories for later...trust me. (even though if I tell all of my stories
here, I really won't have much to actually say to my friends when I see them...alas)
While I was gone somebody came to my website by searching for
"how to stop being an idiot".
I'm so sorry. If anything this page will only help you to continue to be an idiot, if it
teaches you anything. I also grew a little worried about someone who actually is
searching for "how to stop being an idiot" on the internet. I hope he is okay.
Oh crap. Remember when I told everyone my extension at work? Well, when you are a temp there
is a good chance if you take a week long vacation you will not be at the same desk you were
placed in when you left. So a correction, my new extension at work is 5991. Whew.
Now the new girl won't be getting a bunch of calls from strange people asking for
I'm sorry this is so long.
Hello from New Hampshire. So far this trip has been pretty amazing, but I think my liver
hates me right now. My body today has shut down, but it should recover by tomorrow for
wild fun out here in the lovely New England states. I'm not going to waste my
time out here writing about the things I've been doing and thinking,
so let me give you a few quick blurbs so that you can keep checking
back here everyday to find out some details to these words (don't check back till at least
Friday folks, I got me some busy days ahead of me, let alone an entire day of driving
through some of the most interesting states, Ohio, Indiana, I mean you guys).
The Gay Bar Story
Ed at Gilley's
Tiki Bar or Bars in Portsmouth
and oh so much more...
I'm going to head out now, so enjoy yourselves. Off to Boston tomorrow (look for me at the
baseball game, I'll be wearing a MTX shirt), and the drive on Wednesday.
Love ya all, peace.