Jungle of the Mind

2006-05-21T00:57:00.000-04:00

Hey folks!

It's been a good week and a good day. Why? Because I got to hang out with Neal and that's the best time ever. We drafted Magic Friday night at the Den and Neal won and I got 4th, because we're hot shit. Then we went to Shitty Smitty's today at noon, for what I thought was a sealed deck tournament, but it turned out to be a Type I constructed deck tourney for 3.50. (Enter long magic rant that nobody will enjoy or understand but me:) Since it was so friggin cheap, we decided to play anyway even though we didn't have set Type I decks. We grabbed some decks we already had and played and Neal got 5th and I got 2nd! All I can say is woot, we are some fantastical magical bitches in a matchup. There were only 11 kids there so the prizes were only a pack for 5th and three packs for 2nd, but considering the winning deck was insanely pricey and everyone else came in prepared and we weren't, I think we rocked.

The only problem is that Smitty, the store owner, is an anal douchebag. Seriously, he's so anal about the rules. It wasn't even a sanctioned tournament, it was just casual! So he yelled at me for not tapping my lands 90 degrees (they were tapped like 60 & nobody cares!!), and after a game I was putting the lands back into my deck spread apart and he yelled at me for stacking. Since I'd be shuffling for the next 10 minutes anyway waiting for others to finish their matches, it was just him being anal and bitchy. My opponent, kids next to me and kids across the table all backed me up that it was a moot point, and Smitty got so pissed off he started swearing at me and us, ("FUCK YOU GUYS!!") and threatened to kick me out of his store, ("If you don't like it you can GET OUT of my STORE!). He also yelled at us for watching other games after we were done and waiting for the next match to begin, and not staying in our "assigned seats." Smitty and his store are a joke amongst players b/c he has no people skills or business skills, and I almost got kicked out because of my sarcasm and pointing out his lameness to Smitty.

So after the tourney, we went to Neal's house and spent the next 20 minutes drawing a picture of Smitty's School Bus, with Smitty as the bus driver yelling "Stay in your assigned seats!" and shaking his fist vehemently. The bus had run into a kid who was saying in his dying breaths, "but I tapped my mana correctly...". The bus was also on fire. One kid in the back was on fire yelling "I have to PEE!" (b/c Smitty has no bathroom in his store). The next kid up was saying "I want to leave!" another kid said, "this chair hurts my spine" (b/c Smitty's chairs are cheap). We drew two magic cards, labeled "same magic card" with one at 8.00 and one at 12.00, b/c I noticed that Smitty charged those prices for a magic card and I laughed at his lack of competency in establishing a price for his cards. There were cards spewn about labeled "Expensive magic cards--(Smitty doesn't know where they are)" b/c Smitty is very disorganized, just has piles of cards, and when I requested to see some cards he couldn't find them, insisting, "I know where they are, I just can't find them." Once, we saw a Black Lotus on top of one of these piles. For those of you who don't know, a Black Lotus is THE best, most expensive card out of the 6000 cards printed and sells for $750 on ebay. The fact that it was just sitting there --unprotected!-- next to uncommons is the pinnacle of Smitty's incompetence. After seeing if the Den would hang it up (denied) we posted it on Smitty's door. He was closed b/c he has shitty shitty hours and just leaves whenever he wants, randomly. I wonder what he'll think?///////////////////////-----------------------BOOYAH!! Well now my enter key stopped working so it's all cluster-fucked. Anway, I leave next Saturday for Anchorage, Alaska and then I'll be transported all over the place. If you want to contact me write me an old fashioned letter like the pioneers used to do: My Name SAGA HC 52 Box 8855 Indian, AK 99540. Have a great summer/fall. I'll miss a lot of you. ~Peace out, wiggas.

2006-05-11T12:48:00.000-04:00

Barfy barfy barf. I have a tummy ache. Perhaps I should get a gerbil.

I have a dentist appointment (I hope they don't do a cavity search) at two, then an Empire State College meeting with my advisor at three. La-dee-frickin'-dah.

I went to Alfred to see James and Killian Monday, which was really fun. It was James' birfday. James = 23/as old as my grandpa, but we love him anyway.

It is cold and wet outside. Maybe I should put some pants on. There is quite the breeze goin' on.

I'm also supposed to go sharpen ye old chainsaw, then finish cutting up that massive tree today. If I don't do something fun soon I'm going to start dressing like the Village People and torching the houses of maidens. I wish I had a megaphone, doo dah day. I need to go play outside or inside with my friends.

I'm going to miss Halloween this year because I fly back from Alaska on the 31st of Octoberfest. What a major nutjob. And I was doing so well planning my costume out too. Regardless, I'm still dressing up and robbing folks of their candy. I like chocolate now. I used to not.

I hope Alaska isn't cold like how it is outside now. Yesterday was hot like the 70's, and now it's 62 and feels colder. I was told in the mornings it's in the 50's then heats up a bit. If I have to spend the next five months in cold 50 degree weather, I'll have no choice but to wear a hat. Insane in the membrane. Demons!

~Peace

2006-05-04T02:07:00.001-04:00

Top Reasons I am Awesome:1.) Because2.) Shut up3.) I don't have to explain myself to you.So, I was at Alfred from Friday to Tuesday. It was hot dog weekend so drinking was prominent throughout the community. I didn't have much to drink though, not that people believed me. I remained sober so as to pick on drunks. AJ didn't have a cigarette so he wanted to fight someone. I was like, "Okay, let's go." After I beat his ass the first two rounds he became very apologetic for "underestimating" me, yet grew internally angry. I was slightly afraid of how pissed off he was that I was kicking his ass. Round three was actually close, but I decided to tap out when he got ahold of my neck and told me he could break it. I didn't know we were going all out, wtf? I was fighting so as to not cause death, just pain. Whatever. In the end, he complained for the rest of the night because he had rug burns all over him from head to toe and some bruises, while I went unscathed. I am always underestimated. In the end, it was too tiring to continue so we celebrated with waffles and beer.Josh and Dustin's friend Jeremiah (Jerry) came up too. He's an amazing musician and a good guy so that was fun. He played his guitar, god-like, but he also is proficient at drums, piano and the trumpet. It was sweet just chilling in their apartment having him perform for us any song we wanted. It was our own little concert for free. Jerry is seriously great. And when I say great, I mean awesome.Josh ended up having a terrible weekend. The following is an unbiased explanation:The girl he's been pursuing for the last six months kept giving him I-don't-knows to his askings out, then just started dating his friend (we'll call him Fucktard) Friday. What a slap. I don't know if it's the indirectness or what that's most bothersome. If she had said, "I'm never going to date you" plainly, that would be fine. But leading someone on blows. Then there's the fact that Fucktard totally ignored Josh when he clearly knew Josh's feelings for her... Inconsiderate, bastardly, required beat-down material. The week before Josh had asked kindly if there was anything going on between those two to Fucktard, and Fucktard flipped out (now we know Josh's worries were justified). Then there's the fact that said girl's brother is Josh's best friend. The night they hooked up, her brother almost had to get hospitalized for overdrinking and the whole time Josh stayed at the apartment to look after him. Josh is a good guy: he means well and he'll take a bullet for you. It would be nice to know that the good guy got the girl for once. I think it has to do with being less aggressive. To get a girl, being their friend doesn't work. Girls are too dumb and they never consider dating you seriously. You have to be direct and forward, and you can't worry about stepping on other guys's toes to win her. Fuck that. (Mind you, my advice on how to get girls shouldn't be taken seriously as it has not been personally tested, but I still have my theories.)Everyone in that apartment has had a horrible year relationship-wise. It's drama. It's heartache. It's depression-inducing. It almost makes me feel good that I've avoided relationships. Even the few times I do get involved, it comes back to fuck with me.So one night, freshman year, I made out with some attractive girl visiting for the day. She wanted to have done more(me), but I didn't want a one-night-stand deal, so it ended at making out. I don't really know how I made it happen, but I suspect that my utter lack of sleep was responsible. Lack of sleep causes you to act drunk/not be your normal self. Said girl was here last weekend. Awkward moments like that suck. Except it wasn't too awkward, because she is a total horndog so she spent all her time trying to get various people to sleep with her, instead of talking to me. Should I mention that she is married and has a one-year-old and she's 18? Sure! That's a fun fact!I lost my motorcycle key. That was neat. I was stranded there an extra two days. Luckily, my dad had the key number so it was easy to make a new one. Were it not for that, I would still be in Alfred to this very day.The weekend was good. Not overwhelming, but good. I enjoy seeing my friends. The group really isn't the same without Bob, Derek and Christian. Mark and Nick live across campus. So the apartment is now Josh, Brian, Dustin, Dave, James and Killian. Honestly, it's just nowhere near as fun at Alfred as it once was, with Bob, Derek, Brian, Mark, Nick, Dustin, and Christian at Tefft.======================================================================================I'm tired.I'm supposedly driving my bike up the 7.5 hr drive to Vermont tomorrow. It's going to be cold, a long drive, and sucky. 7.5 hrs is way too long on a bike. My thoughts drive me crazy. I don't like to be stuck forced by myself for extended periods of time. I need music. In a car, it's totally different because it's relaxing, easy, and musically jammin'. On a bike it's windy, loud, and tiring. I mean, I'm all for riding on a warm, sunny day--but long road trips in the cold suck ass. The fact that I'm tired now and unexcited about going doesn't help either. I should be excited. Neal is as fun a person as anyone I know, but I'm not. It makes me feel bad inside. And I'll only see Caitlin for a day.Seriously, what the hellish waste am I doing? What I really want is to just sleep in tomorrow and relax, but there's a time pressure because Caitlin leaves Thursday and pretty soon school's over anyway. This would be far more rewarding if at the end of the road trip there was a cash prize. But I'm pretty sure there isn't. This only furthers my depression. I'm masochistic for my friends.=================================I think my self-esteem is bipolar. Sometimes, like now, I don't feel like I'm interesting at all and I don't understand why people are happy. Usually I repress this side and don't show it to anyone. I'd doubt if anyone knew how I was. One time I thought about buying "The Power of Positive Thinking," but then I thought, "what the hell good will that do?" Other times I'm hyper and giddy and silly and love being me and love other people. It's things like this that convince me my brain chemistry is retarded. Or maybe there's a shrunken leprechaun controlling my brain and he just likes to fuck with me. It should be one or the other. Not both.I'm fucking tired. Fuck this. I hope I feel better in the morning.As always, leave a comment if you like Ding-dongs,~Peace

2006-05-03T20:15:00.000-04:00

Fuck this shit, I'm moving to ALASKA!

You heard right, bitches. Polar bear country, the North Pole, the Tundra...has anything ever called your name so strongly? Of course not! Everybody wants to live in Alaska, but I'm beating you all to it. Some girl called me up (because I gave her my number) and after I blew her away with my impressive-style interviewing skills for about an hour on the phone, she's goes off on a tangent complimenting me and all my answers and says she's just going to give me the opening (there were 2 left) because I'm such a cool guy. So I'm like, "Sure, whatever, toots." After I hear cheering in the background (I guess I was so cool they put me on speakerphone), we say our goodbyes and part ways.

So when do I leave, you ask? Later this month. Apparently they want me there like a hero. So my summer of college classes gets delayed until the fall, and instead of hanging out with all the cool people from high school, I'll be hanging out with Muskrats and Mooses.

I only work 4 days a week, with one day a week of "educational activities" such as white water rafting and parasailing. And I get 900 bucks a month, with food and housing paid. But really, there isn't housing. I sleep in tents and cabins. Woopty-friggin-do!

So yeah, I'll leave May 27th for Anchorage and won't return until October 31st. This means I'll have to get in some serious hanging-out time with all my friends returning from college in the next three weeks. This means YOU (providing you're my friend). Otherwise, bugger off stranger. I don't want no weirdos stalking me! Unless you're hot. I would also prefer it if you were female. Optimally, you should be a Chinese Immigrant. If this is the case, stalk me all you like. Unless I tell you to stop. But if you keep stalking me, I secretly won't mind, even though I might say otherwise. And if you tell all your hot college girl friends to stalk me, I wouldn't mind that either. Especially, if they are part ninja or part pirate. But don't do it if you don't want to. Seriously. I can do alright on my own.

Anyways, farewell assassins! Good luck finding me in Alaska! (It's the ultimate hideout).

~Peace

2006-05-03T01:11:00.000-04:00

Cpjunkie6: hey Roberto!
Cpjunkie6: what's goin on, buddy?
Cpjunkie6: i just got done with my shift
Robertotunison: yo
Robertotunison: who is this?
Cpjunkie6: um
Cpjunkie6: your worst enemy
Robertotunison: thats unfortunate
Cpjunkie6: yes
Cpjunkie6: yes it is
Cpjunkie6: who's the icon?
Robertotunison: me
Cpjunkie6: you think you're so cool with those aviators don't u?
Robertotunison: yeah, looking like lenny kravitz
Cpjunkie6: or...lenny from the Simpsons!
Robertotunison: ...
Robertotunison: yeah
Cpjunkie6: you're very agreeable tonight, aren't you?
Robertotunison: i suppose
Cpjunkie6: is something wrong?
Robertotunison: no
Cpjunkie6: did you eat a goldfish?
Robertotunison: god i wish
Cpjunkie6: did you see a rusty mailbox?
Robertotunison: but who is this?
Cpjunkie6: did your hat fall in the toilet?
Robertotunison: i recieved a rusty trombone
Cpjunkie6: oh no!
Cpjunkie6: i hate when that happens
Cpjunkie6: and it happens all the time
Cpjunkie6: did you receive it while assuming the position?
Cpjunkie6: you don't have to answer that
Robertotunison: hell yes i did
Robertotunison: but who is this
Cpjunkie6: you don't know
Robertotunison: like, how would i know you
Robertotunison: i really dont
Robertotunison: casey?
Cpjunkie6: haha
Cpjunkie6: quit reading the profile
Cpjunkie6: you're an astute learner
Cpjunkie6: props, man. props.
Robertotunison: but how do i know you?
Cpjunkie6: i used to live nearby
Robertotunison: is that so?
Cpjunkie6: and i would observe your behaviors with powerful binoculars
Cpjunkie6: and i was feeling chipper so i thought i'd give ya a ring
Cpjunkie6: in IM form
Robertotunison: ah ha
Cpjunkie6: i hope you're not too busy
Robertotunison: nope
Cpjunkie6: b/c all i do is distract people
Robertotunison: not at all
Cpjunkie6: good
Robertotunison: ehhh, i need to leave
Cpjunkie6: mooooo!
Cpjunkie6: i mean, nooooo!
Robertotunison: but seriously, how are we related?
Cpjunkie6: not by blood
Cpjunkie6: trust me
Cpjunkie6: i would know
Robertotunison: as i know
Cpjunkie6: we can talk again sometime
Cpjunkie6: when i'm feeling equally mysterious
Cpjunkie6: or on a whim
Cpjunkie6: or when i'm drunk
Cpjunkie6: anyways, you should probably get back to your Cartoon Network
Robertotunison: hah
Cpjunkie6: later dude
Robertotunison: or my gov
Cpjunkie6: gov sucks
Cpjunkie6: when are your finals?
Robertotunison: dont play this shit, i need to know who you are
Robertotunison: tuesday
Cpjunkie6: cool
Robertotunison: i have a com136 exam tomorroa
Cpjunkie6: you can celebrate at Ruby Tuesdays
Cpjunkie6: eww
Robertotunison: an i had a calc exam tomorrow
Cpjunkie6: you had it tomorrow?
Cpjunkie6: interesting
Robertotunison: i had it today
Robertotunison: silence
Cpjunkie6: never!
Cpjunkie6: i work on a symbiotic verbalist relationship
Robertotunison: is that so, i work on logos based relationships
Robertotunison: so, what is your relation to me
Cpjunkie6: i'm more of a Legos person
Robertotunison: hmm, how unfortunate
Cpjunkie6: i have no relationship to you
Cpjunkie6: although we probably have stuff in common
Robertotunison: no, but there is a relation, one that is prompted by you instant messaging me
Cpjunkie6: like, I ate a hamburger once
Robertotunison: one that is based on my ignorance of who you are
Cpjunkie6: hamburgers are delicious
Cpjunkie6: i would eat one now, but i'm full of ravioli
Cpjunkie6: if you find out who i am, will you stop talking to me?
Robertotunison: hah
Robertotunison: maybe
Cpjunkie6: b/c seriously, I need a break
Robertotunison: yeah, i seriously need to leave
Cpjunkie6: Tom&Jerry will do that to a man
Robertotunison: hah
Robertotunison: hells ya
Robertotunison: frisbee?
Robertotunison: drmcninja?
Cpjunkie6: i like frisbee
Robertotunison: myspace?
Cpjunkie6: ultimate frisbee
Robertotunison: yeah
Robertotunison: you play
Robertotunison: ?
Cpjunkie6: yeah
Robertotunison: is that how you know me?
Cpjunkie6: no
Robertotunison: damn
Cpjunkie6: Dr McNinja?
Cpjunkie6: is that a real doctor?
Cpjunkie6: sounds like a cool guy
Robertotunison: uhh, if thats how you knew me, you would know
Robertotunison: oh he is www.drmcninja.com
Cpjunkie6: i wish i had a ninja for a doctor
Cpjunkie6: you're a clever clever guy
Cpjunkie6: just like my friend Ted
Robertotunison: you are a royal ass
Cpjunkie6: yeah, I'm familiar with the comic
Cpjunkie6: i'm just messin with you
Robertotunison: yeah
Cpjunkie6: i like to think that more parts of me are royal, not just my ass
Cpjunkie6: but thanks for noticing!
Robertotunison: yeah
Robertotunison: peace
Cpjunkie6: peace
Robertotunison is away at 1:05:53 PM.

If you're wondering, no I don't have any idea who this guy is. I was bored. And yes, he was correct in guessing I found his screen name from Dr. McNinja. Props to him! Somehow, Roberto kept his temper and stayed classy--how unfortunate. Anywho, I'm out.

~Peace

2006-05-01T21:09:00.002-04:00

I bring good news!

wait...wait, wait, wait...

Okay, I was lying.

Toodles!
~the incarnation of jazz

2006-04-20T22:59:00.000-04:00

A pirate walks into a bar and the bartender says, "Hey, I haven't seen you in a while. What happened, you look terrible!"
"What do you mean?" the pirate replies, "I'm fine."
The bartender says, "But what about that wooden leg? You didn't have that before."
"Well," says the pirate, "We were in a battle at sea and a cannon ball hit my leg but the surgeon fixed me up, and I'm fine, really."
"Yeah," says the bartender, "But what about that hook? Last time I saw you, you had both hands."
"Well," says the pirate, "We were in another battle and we boarded the enemy ship. I was in a sword fight and my hand was cut off but the surgeon fixed me up with this hook, and I feel great, really."
"Oh," says the bartender, "What about that eye patch? Last time you were in here you had both eyes."
"Well," says the pirate, "One day when we were at sea, some birds were flying over the ship. I looked up, and one of them shat in my eye."
"So?" replied the bartender, "what happened? You couldn't have lost an eye just from some bird shit!"
"Well," says the pirate, "I really wasn't used to the hook yet."

2006-04-19T00:08:00.000-04:00

Small Thoughts

-I don't have enough panda blood in me.

this is what panda blood looks like:

-my dog is old

-I'm going to Vermont tomorrow to see Neal and Caitlin on my bike. I should probably look up directions. Or pack something.

-I don't have HIV because I'm genetically superior to Africans.

-I am a coward. Like the dog, Courage. But I am not a cartoon. Or a dog.

-I hate Snoop Dogg. Eminem and Ludacris is where it's at. Also, Dr. Dre.

-Children's songs make a great addition to any music compilation. I have a playlist that it is physically impossible to listen to without laughing. I created it and I think it shows what I'm all about. I love it!

-Some children's show characters--like Elmo, Barney, and the teletubbies--stir up much more hatred than joy. Others, like Big Bird or Cookie monster, are all about pure joy.

-Today, I was a lumberjack. I sang myself a lumberjack tune I made up. It goes like this:

I am a lumberjack!
Hear me roar!
Chop Chop Chop!
Chop to the floor!
Split you bastard
do what I say!
I chop this wood till I'm old
or gray!

Lumberjacks! Lumberjacks!
with pancakes for breakfast
Everyone likes a lumberjack!
and pancakes for lunch!

Roar Roar Roar!
Lumberjack power!
I've been splitting wood
For over an hour!

Fuck this shit
this wood is dumb!
Where's my oxen
when you need 'em?

-Muscles beat out fiestiness any day of the week.

-Except Thursdays.

-I want to build myself a Wheel of Adjectives. When I get an apartment, I will hang it on my wall. It will include words like: super, awesome, extreme, mega-sick, ultra-cool, fabulous, fantastic, supreme, orgasmic, and dumb.

-Kazoos suck.

-I'm always in search of food. Foodstores are my hidden enemy.

-A boolay boolay boolay!!!!

-I enjoy the Dunkin Donuts commercial that insinuates donuts promote hard work and better efficiency. Because clearly, they do the opposite. If I was a donut, that's what I'd do.

-I also saw Scrubs and Teachers today. They fit my style and I enjoy them greatly.

-My family is strange but still boring. If I didn't have to know them, I would choose not to. Also, all my cousins are 5-10 years older than me, and the only one younger is 9 years younger. Also, all of my cousins are female, my aunts are way too talky, and my uncles are too serious. Consequently, the people they associate with also suck. I bring this up because I was forcibly attending a "Lilac Party" today. Yes. It was called that. There wasn't a face in the room that didn't need a good uppercutting. The food was good though.

-PT-141, "For the couple who has been together a long time and has just let sex fall by the wayside as a natural consequence of the stresses of life, this could be a good way to get it back in the relationship," he said. I think inhaling your sex drive is a good step towards the roboticizing of humans. Hooray for robots!

-Seriously, what the hell. If they come out with a product to fix every genetic fallibility of humans, how am I supposed to stay superior? Anti-aging creams, hairloss products, hair dyes, Viagra, Valtrex...the list goes on. Pretty soon, diseased, balding old people will be as good at sex as ME and I cannot let this happen!

-I should go to bed.

2006-04-16T13:30:00.000-04:00

This is my favorite theorem.

I have another message for all you mothers out there:

Lastly, I would have to say I am an acceptable drunk. I mean, drunks usually are not as easy to deal with as normal, fully-conscious adults are, but I think the amount of joy I brought to others surpassed the negativity.

Joy I brought to others-
-dancing by myself
-falling off the trampoline/inability to get back up
-stupid comments I said
-remembering names of others
-setting gummy worms on fire/eating them
-I remember a couple occasions where people around me collapsed from laughter and I'm pretty sure I was responsible...I just don't know what I did.

Negativity I brought upon others-
-throwing banana peppers at random people who didn't know me
-demanding money from some girl I didn't know because she didn't know my name
-apparently I was repetitive in my conversation material to Brian
-knocking over cups in Beer pong?? (I have no memory of this)

Acceptable Behavior-
-peeing in the appropriate receptacle instead of in wastepaper baskets
-not whipping out my cock and running around with it
-not driving
-not starting fights
-not harassing/"hitting on" the pretty girls...or any girls for that matter. Flirting is a delicate and ancient art which should be designated for only sober, coherent, skillful people. Or the good-looking.

Honestly, I was doing alright for most of the night. I could walk, talk, go undefeated in ping pong, win at video games, foosball, say witty things and generally stay in control of my actions. That's when Mr. Boston (aka the 100 proof death liquid) entered my life. I recall several, or possibly all, people saying it was a bad idea to finish it. I think I was the ONLY one who thought it was a good idea to finish it. So I did. It was awful and terrible and there was a lot. Needless to say, after this my night became a haze until I eventually woke up with the thought, "I don't remember going to sleep!?"

Anyway, I don't mean to condone drinking, but seriously...what does anyone need TWO kidneys for? Really. One brain is sufficient...one stomach, one heart, one liver. I mean, what if we had two of everything? What if I had TWO penises? You see what I mean? It's unnecessary. Not necessarily worthless...but it's not required to live.

Getting hopelessly gone is about risk-taking. It's about being able to make a complete ass of yourself in front of your friends and total strangers as well. Many people are not prepared to take that risk, so they drink only moderately if at all. We all want to be a little cautious. Noone wants to wake up hearing stories of how you peed on the dog while giggling or how you punched a drunk girl in the face because she was making fun of your beard, but that's a risk I'm prepared to take. In the middle of the night I recall kicking--what turned out to be--Hillary in the chest out of confusion. I thought it was just a mass of blankets and I was cold and wanted a blanket, but when it groaned I realized there must be a person there so I did not get the blanket.

There's obviously an embarrassment factor and the risk of being a jerk or annoying, but throughout the night there was a group of people surrounding me (by choice) wherever I went, so I think that is testament alone that I wasn't too bad. And when the following morning, as people start waking up and I sit quietly eating my Dirty Rice Mix, most of the conversation revolves around things you allegedly did...coupled with laughter...I'd say that's a good thing.

I've yet to figure out why I never get a hangover or throw up, because I've definitely had plenty more than I should be able to handle. I think it's genetics. More and more, I'm getting the feeling that my parents were once totally crazy alcoholics in college, and as their tolerance went up, a super durable set of genetics for kidneys was developed which I later inherited (through the process of reproduction). I hope this is the case. The other possibility is that I am Superman. That would SUCK because once people found out, they would be slipping kryptonite in my drinks as a practical joke, and I would later die. KRYPTONITE DEATHS ARE THE WORST!!!

2006-04-11T22:02:00.000-04:00

End of the World?

It was 12 hours before Cameron would either face serious complications that would change her forever. Or be dead. Or forced to make a decision for human kind.

Cameron didn’t know this of course. Very few people knew anything was happening at all in fact. Though it concerned everyone, the public was certainly not allowed this knowledge. Only those on the inside knew the irrefutable evidence that spelled the end of mankind at all. And they weren’t ready to reveal it yet. There were no underground fortresses that the rich and powerful could retreat to. It was one of those unavoidable Apocalypses predestined from the beginning of time, starting with the generation of a star many galaxies away.

Movies about the end of the world always had a way around it. There was always a hidden solution that, through the actions and brainpower of one man, could save mankind. How many alien invasions had been stopped against all odds in the movies? How many natural disasters had domino-ed out of control because of human irresponsibility, only to result in the partial yet surmountable devastation of our planet? Movies always had a solution. The questions of how mankind would end usually stemmed from aliens or people, and sometimes mother nature, but despite her bad rep., our mother doesn’t really want the destruction of everyone. Sometimes she punishes with a tsunami, hurricanes, tornadoes, blizzards, earthquakes. Every now and then she has an ice age or a volcanic eruption, but she generally looks out for her children on the whole, no matter how badly we mistreat her.

Movies were made this way because they were exciting. They were built on a level on which we could identify. People felt so empowered that if disaster struck, they could assume the role of the hero and save the world. Movies often created a scenario spawned from human arrogance to get us mad about the current events that each movie goer--individually--was not responsible, then allowed them to picture themselves saving the day, winning the girl, and receiving countless gratitude from everyone. Even if the audience didn’t see themselves as the hero, they at least agreed there was a hero. Then they left the theater and went about their lives.

If men went out each night and just gazed at the stars, they would realize how insignificant they really were. The sky alone belittles you, then compound the thousands of stars you can see, the trillions you can’t...the galaxies and black holes outnumber each man, woman and child at least 100 to 1. Gazing out at the Universe was enough to capture the curiosity of minds like Galileo, but pretty soon, humans realized it was just too much to handle. That’s why we sleep indoors. That’s why we wait for our favorite television programs to start at half-hour intervals, our lights turned on, our microwaves heating up some processed prepackaged foods, only to be interrupted with a cell phone call from a same-age friend. Once our alarms tell us to wake up, we consume our store-bought food, or not, visit our favorite web sites, shower and brush our teeth. Some of us floss and apply make-up, tweeze eyebrows and shave, make to-do lists and finally, once we’re good and ready–we leave the house. Leaving the house takes a lot of energy. How can you face the world without preparing? That’s insane.

If we’re lucky enough to live in a community of same-wage, same-jobbed workers, our timing might coincide so that we see our neighbors getting into their cars. We take pleasure in waving hello to our neighbors––interacting. The hand wave proves to your neighbors that you are a success. You go out and do things. You see the world. Sometimes, we’ll pass them on the road in a traffic jam, at a stop light, or see their car at a gas station. If not, the same people will be back in their cubicles or offices the next day. We can say hello to them.

If someone’s talented enough, hard work can let them advance their way through the ranks to one day get the reward of a large, fancy office with big glass windows overlooking the sunny horizon. You get to see the other man-built buildings--some bigger, some smaller. You learn to recognize landmarks so that you can point them out to visitors of your mighty palace. You look down at pedestrians marching the Madison Avenue below like ants. And you laugh at how small they look.

Do ants laugh at how big we are? They shouldn’t, right? They should recognize that they are inferior because they are smaller. They might laugh at how big we are. They might laugh at how complicated we make our lives when it is so very simple. You look for a leaf and bring it back. No, they don’t laugh. Ants are too busy running their path to help the colony and help the queen. Their lives are simple, but busy. Ant researchers consider ants productive. Ants are very productive...always running, always following organized lines and paths. Every ant has a job to do, and every ant does it as fast as the next ant.

We agree that ants are productive, as a colony. Therefore, it’s logical to say that the colony is a product of the individuals. Therefore, every ant is productive. But what can a single ant do in the course of its lifetime? Deliver bits of food from one spot to another? How many ants have you squished in your lifetime, just to enjoy its stopped movement? Got ants in your house? Just go to the store and buy some ant killer product. In the meantime, enjoy squishing and stomping as many as you can. Be sure to yell in frustration at their number, or at least grunt, “stupid ants” as your shoe compresses them against your tiled floor.

Over the course of their lifetime, an entire colony does nothing but build an anthill. They manage to sustain their life and reproduce to ensure another generation of ants. They eat and sleep and shit and eat, and when it’s all over, they’ve paved the way for at least as many organisms. So goes the life of the hardworking, successful ant. We’re not even mentioning the unsuccessful ants. Those are generally the ants that find themselves beneath your Nike sneaker or, getting so caught up in their mission to fetch more pieces of potato chip, they fail to notice the impending footsteps of joggers in the park. Squish. Not even so much as that. A squished ant is so insignificant, it does not even make a sound when it is squished. (Try to listen for it next time. It doesn’t exist.)

You, the astute reader, probably think I’m about to point out that humans are just like ants. Sure, we’re on a different scale of importance than them, but we’re on a scale nonetheless. We’re better than all other forms of life, so that means we’re kickass, right? I know, we are kickass. We’re better than any other organism we know of in almost any measurable trait. So what if we can’t lift six times our body weight like an ant? That’s not important. We can’t fly? Not important. We can’t breath underwater? Not important. The important thing is that we’re smarter. That’s why we’re the best. The most advanced. The most significant of EVERYTHING that ever lived. If you wanted to be a jerk, you could start getting ahead of me: “But we’re not as significant as EVERYTHING, Mr. Author. What about people that lived before us? Some people were more important than we are.”

I was getting to that. Only one man can fill the title of “Most Significant Man Ever to Live.” Everyone else that has ever existed is inferior. Who was the most significant man? To win this honor, they must have accomplished a lot, been a super-genius, had contact with all the current technology, all the right people, received the best education, and paved the way for future generations. He must have worked his whole life, preferably a LONG life, to make a difference for as much of mankind as possible. His innovations and contributions would have been years ahead of his time, not a few months ahead of the next leading scientist....Did I say scientist? Were scientists the most significant? Inventors? World Leaders? War generals?

No one has ever been so superior to clearly, indisputably be labeled “THE” best. We break it down and say so-and-so was “one of” the best, or “the leader...a leader... in the field....at the time.” And this is good enough. Everyone can’t be the best. We can only do what we can do.

We were born into a certain part of the world in a certain culture, with a certain amount of money, with a certain amount of possessions. We were born with a certain family, living next to certain neighbors, near a certain school where we would befriend certain people. Our family teaches us the language of the area, then we are educated and trained according to our upbringing to meet societal and family standards. Sometimes we are born into an inner-city ghetto, raised by Tibetan monks or orphaned and forced into prostitution before we are teenagers. Sometimes we are raised by the King of Qatar. We’re generally born male or female, healthy or diseased, Asian or African, with the genes that determine whether we’ll be 6'3" or 4' 11". It’s fun to see how different we are--how we’re all born into different lives. From afar, we’re all the same.

Ants actually have several jobs. They aren’t all food gatherers. Some nurture the young, some protect the colony from invaders. Some reproduce with the Queen to father the entire next generation. Ants are born into their roles of Queen, Soldier, Worker, Nurturer, different sizes and everything, just like us.

But who cares about their different jobs? Ants are just ants. You wouldn’t know anything about their hierarchy unless you saw it on Animal Planet anyway. Who cares about foreign affairs that aren’t on the news? Who cares about anything your community isn’t talking about? If it doesn’t affect your life, there’s no point. You’ll work your nine to five shift, if you’re lucky enough to have a job, you’ll go home and deal with your personal life. That’s all you have time for. You fill your niche in society the same as every other living organism there ever was.

So why am I telling you all this? Why do you want to hear that people aren’t so great after all? Why do you want to hear that you’re not different from other organisms, or that you’re less important than other people around you? All your life you’ve been told that you are special. That you are unique and you have something to offer that no one else can. Maybe you were skeptical, but most people accept it because it’s easiest. It’s fun to believe we’re interesting and different, ignoring the fact that even if you’re one in a million, there’s still seven thousand people just like you. You don’t want to hear this. You shouldn’t want to hear this. Nobody wants to have their life torn down by somebody and told it counts for nothing because in 100 years they will be dead. In a thousand years, a hundred thousand, in a billion years....what will our life’s accomplishments have meant? Since there’s nothing to do about it, the only thing to do is ignore it. We do what we can do. The rest is immaterial.

Remember Cameron? She was 12 hours away from saving humanity. But how could she? What were the circumstances? An exploding sun had directed a planet–not an asteroid but a planet–the size of Jupiter to a collision course with Earth. No number of missiles or atomic bombs could divert it’s path as it hurtled at hundreds of thousands of miles an hour through space. Fact was, Cameron didn’t know she was 12 hours from saving humanity and she would never get the opportunity to. No one would. In 12 hours, Earth would be a lumped addition on a slowed but steadily rocketing planet. All life would be instantly ended. Soon Earth would no longer be a part of the Milky Way, the galaxy we considered “our” galaxy. Would it still be the Milky Way without Earth in it? No. Without people, there would be no names. Every accomplishment ever made by humans would be erased like a bulldozed ant hill. Billions of years later, when other intelligent life forms mastered space travel in a way we never could and warped through space rifts as easily as British munch down scones for breakfast visited the Milky Way, they would ascertain that there were no conditions for life forms and that there never were. Not in this galaxy. They would leave as fast as they had come. There was nothing to see here. They would never know that once, a long, long time ago, there was.

Like this:

2006-04-08T23:37:00.000-04:00

I don't know whether I'm pissed off at MySpace or not. Facebook, Xanga and Myspace suck the life out of you. Well they can. I have a force shield that protects my soul from the inherent evils of these sites. People love egocasting. Talking about themselves and broadcasting it in an 'innocent' way. And everybody naively thinks that the only people watching their profiles on these sites are their peers.

Wrong, dildo-face.

Now consider that many employers look up your name on these sites as part of their background checks. Sexual predators? Love these sites. "You love such and such a band too? And you're a sucker for men in top hats? Meet me at the candy shop at 5:00!" Myspace is a heavenly wealth of information:

MySpace knows their users basic info, name, email, age, etc. Then it also knows their friends, their friends data, their favorite bands, the way they speak, who they like, who they don't. Heck it can probably run a simple algorithm and figure out your favorite words (assuming you use MySpace). A more complex algorithm and it can probably imitate they way you talk.

--abstractdynamics.org

You think the basic questions "favorite books, movies, music" are for your friends to get to know you better? Bullshit. They're for marketing companies. They gather the information from the 60 million visitors on Myspace, even knowing your relationships with all your friends. The friendly get-togethers at the 7-11 parking lots of the early 90's are now conducted on everyone's personal computers after school, on a PUBLIC medium. Marketers are gathering their data to offer you products that define you to a T. Good? Creepy? Nobody that uses Myspace or facebook likely cares, but it would be refreshing if kids today were aware.

Because it might be my space or your space, but it's their data in the end...

===================
===================
That being said, I'd like to encourage anyone interested in this topic to read this paper. It's a paper that gets you to think about motives behind simply being a part of the sites. Myspace really is a genius company. Everyone loves Tom, the Myspace figurehead. Even people without friends can see the profiles of Tom to get accustomed to it and are encouraged to do more. Being a part of Myspace lets you in on culture. It's being with your friends. Commenting rewards both the commentor and the commented. The more you comment, the more people think about you and click back to your profile. Popularity and the 'coolness factor' goes up. Myspace rewards you for putting effort into the site. With customization, learning isn't just for nerds anymore. Myspace rolls with youth culture, the 14-24 year olds. Music is going to be huge in terms of funding for Myspace in the future. I could go on but I'll try to stop myself.

Another thing, not all "friends" are friends and no one bats an eye if someone collects hundreds of people. It's more like a process of namaste - I acknowledge your soul and you acknowledge mine. Where language inflation turns "okay" into "good" and "good" into "great," acquaintances are now listed as friends. This bugs me.

"While many did not come to Friendster to get laid (just as they say they don't go to bars to get laid), places where large numbers of hott singles hang out are bound to attract other singles, regardless of whether or not they want to admit that they're looking for sex. Friendster was a free site where people could meet other interesting people; at the same time, rejection was OK because no one was actually looking to meet someone. Sex is still the reason why people use the site..."

hahaha. I just thought this was amusing in that many people are posting ads of themselves masked as Myspace pages to increase their networking. I think in several respects, subconcious or not, the above quote isn't so far off from the truth.

2006-04-01T00:51:00.000-05:00

Today's topic is speed dating! *cheers*

No, I'm not talking about the the inevitable dating that occurs after a long night of hitting the pipe. Fun as that is, this is better. Speed dating is the process of meeting people rapidly. You pay a fee to enter a room chalk full of chairs. The girls circulate to the next chair when the timer goes off. Your amount of time is short, usually 4 minutes or less, to sell yourself and learn about them as well. What kinds of questions do you ask? Do you go for the things that are important to you? Or, do you go for a silly question looking for a laugh?

More and more, research is showing that first impressions all you need. This isn't cause for anxiety if you go to one of these. Quite the opposite. The scenario is so strange and silly, the environment is instead smiley and fun! While some dates (like blind dates)focus a lot of time on one person, speed dating focuses little time on lots of people. Before you get to know someone, it's time to switch to the next person! If your curiousity is picqued, you can look them up later; if not, they're gone before you know it. Speed dating parties can be found in every major city because statistics have shown it's better than watching Cartoon Network.

But you parry: "4 minutes? 4 minutes is not enough time to sell yourself. And who wants to sell themself, prostitutes aside?"

Maybe you think the idea of a four minute pitch is insane. You'd rather drink green tea and sing kumbaya with Bill O'Reilly than have streams of crazed singletons giving you four-minute pitches. If they want to just talk to you, ask three questions, or show you pictures of their pet python for four minutes, ok. But pitching is not a contact sport, nor is it suitable for "speed".

True. True. Many newcomers panic at the idea of selling themselves in so little time. How can you begin to let the potential investors understand your net worth? That is why I bring pamphlets.

Pamphlets are the best way to sell anything. Hands down. Except for hiring Chef Tony or Chuck Norris for an infomercial. But those are expensive. Pamplets are a cheap and easy alternative.

Many programs offer pamphlet-creating options(just download.com it). Now all you need to do is highlite your best points. Be sure to use bullets (both star and triangle varieties) and pictures to illustrate your points. Pictures show how beautiful you are, and doctored photos with celebs always help. A well-made pamphlet gives you a professional-looking presentation. Be sure to bring extras to hand out to those interested. It's like a business card, but with lots of info on it. Either way, it's free--minus printing costs--advertising, and aids the presentation seven or eight fold (some research points to as much as nine-fold!!!)

Hear what people had to say about speed dating! (Quotes from Hurrydate.com)

“Painless and not-creepy!” — Diane in Toronto
“It was so much fun - the people were really cool and NORMAL! — Barb in Schaumburg
“What a clever, non-threatening way to meet people. A blast!”— Lisa in Chicago

===============================================
===============================================
Here are some key conversation starters for your few minutes, if you attend a speed dating party. They're the questions you need the answers to.

1.)Are you that guy?

2.)Are you a liar?

3.)Can you handle a big woman? (would you want to?)

4.)Are you a sex-crazed lunatic? (why not?)

5.)Why did you sit there? Why don't you sit over there? (point to far-off location)

6.)Do you admit to having any children?

7.)How great is your hatred for trees?

8.)On a scale of 1-30, how anecdotal is your answering machine message?

9.)How often do you engage in car accidents?

10.)Do you play the piano, or any other forms of non-violence, on weekends?

11.)Are you so desperate that you have to come to these things on a weekly basis, only to find that nobody is meant for you and you're doomed for a life of miserable self-cooked meals?

12.)Does your husband/wife think you're grocery shopping like mine does?

13.)Are you living a life under false pretenses?

14.)When was the last time you did anything about the Joe Rogan situation?

15.)Are you a millionaire? and if not, please leave.

16.)Would you be offended if I told you you were unattractive and unworthy of my attention?

17.)Are you, like me, currently in violation of your parole for a crime you allegedly committed? Even if it was something as simple as armed robbery?

18.)You're that person from America's Most Wanted, aren't you? Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.
=============================
Some non-questions to say when the timer begins:

1.)You're not Angolina Jolie. Next!

2.)I do not accept hand shakes. I only accept high fives.

3.)If there weren't so many Jews around here, I'd slap you.

4.)Guess my name and win a prize! (ensure your name tag is not your real name for added fun!)

5.)I think I'm in love with Interviewee #38....(Then have your eyes glaze off dreamily. Do not respond to any questions or comments offered by current subject for entire session)

Has anyone ever tried speed or dating? I am new to both. But in all honesty, I can tell you that I already tried speed dating and met someone, actually several someone's!! It was great and if you are a loser like I was, you should try it!! Speed dating is the best thing since home cooked bread and Oreos.

~peace, as always

=========
note: this post was made on April Fool's Day. Any and all statements made here may be false.

2006-03-30T18:18:00.000-05:00

I heard some reporter on the News Hour with Jim Lehrer complaining about Pirates over in Africa yesterday. Pirates make me really happy. These particular Pirates were stealing food from the Red Cross...hungry bastards. So I was thinking about Pirates, because that's what I do, and I realized the reason Pirates have beards is because shaving on a boat is dangerous! In fact, the earliest Pirates who tried to shave on ships probably killed themselves when a big wave hit the ship. As the path of surviving, non-shaving Pirates dichotomized from the dead, clean shaven ones, eventually only the beardedness prevailed. That is why Pirates have beards. I, on the other hand, have no such excuse.

I bring all this up because today, as I was walking through Wegmans, somebody mistook me for a Pirate. This mistake really made me step back from life and assess what went wrong. I think it was the eye patch. It might have been the wooden leg.

I'm trying to decide what I want to be for this Halloween when I go trick-or-treating. I figure it's best to take advantage of my non-huge build and pretend to be a child. With the help of a mask, it should be doubly easy, what with the manly man-beard hidden away. I know it may seem a little early to be thinking about Halloween seven months in advance, but Halloween is fantastic. You learn lessons about life like the importance of begging. And the importance of threats, 'cause hey, if they don't Treat, I'm going to Trick.

Good tricks are usually toilet papering, egging of property, slashing tires, and the all-powerful flaming bag-o'-poo. Human or dog poo works well, as long as there are clear indicators (like corn) that it was actually poo. Diarrhea works well too.

Since it's not suspicious-looking when you're wearing a mask, Halloween is my number one day for burglaries and crimes against humanity! (I like to practice Chinese Water torture on store clerks.) Halloween is basically the celebration of poverty(begging), starting with children from a very young age, right? People are just confused. Society praises Robin Hood for stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, but hate the poor when they do it for themselves.

If you have any suggestions for my Halloween costume, I'll be taking them from now until October.

~peace

2006-03-27T17:33:00.000-05:00

Why I Should Never Get Administrator Privileges

Everyone who's anyone has heard of the facebook. Well I created a group called, "I heart Naps" back from the start with the description "because who doesn't like naps? for realz." and put up a nifty picture that says I heart naps. Since napping is so enjoyable, the group grew to 188 members. Seeing as I only know about 30 people in Alfred, that's a considerable amount.

So what did I do? I simply changed the description:

"Naps" is codename for "masturbation."

hahaha. I thought this was very funny. 188 people now voluntarily joined a group to support playing with themselves...without knowing it! I'm so clever! This is why I shouldn't have power; I abuse it.

I'm interested to see whether anyone else notices and if anyone will leave or join the group now that its true purpose has been revealed! I don't think anyone will notice for a while because the group is so old and boring, but I got a good laugh and that's all that matters. And perhaps someone else will notice and get a good laugh too, and comment to their friends, who wouldn't know, and they would get a laugh. Laughs all around! I am the bringer of mirth.

Perhaps you'll be able to see the page here. If not, please let me know.

What do you think of all this? Leave me a memo!

love y'all
~peace

2006-03-26T22:31:00.000-05:00

Joke Time! (I find it's best to pause between each joke)

Anytime I see something screech across a room, and latch onto someone's neck, and the guy screams and tries to get it off, I have to laugh, because what is that thing?
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As we were driving, we saw a sign that said "Watch for rocks." Marta said it should read "Watch for pretty rocks." I told her she should write in her suggestion to the highway department, but she started saying it was a joke, just to get out of writing a simple letter. And I thought I was lazy.
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Children need encouragement, so if a kid gets an answer right, tell him it was a lucky guess. That way, he develops a good, lucky feeling.
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Contrary to what most people say, the most dangerous animal in the world is not the lion, or the tiger, or even the elephant. It's a shark, riding on an elephant's back, just trampling and eating everything they see.
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Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis.
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I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not for our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex.
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I can still recall old Mr. Barnslow, getting out every morning and nailing a fresh load of tadpoles to that old board of his. Then he'd spin it round and round, like a wheel of fortune, and no matter where it stopped, he'd yell, "Tadpoles! Tadpoles is a winner!" We all thought he was crazy, but then, we had some growing up to do.
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I guess of all my uncles, I liked Uncle Caveman the best. We called him Uncle Caveman because he lived in a cave, and because sometimes he'd eat one of us. Later on, we found out he was a bear.
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I think a good gift for the president would be a chocolate revolver, and since he's so busy, you'd probably have to run up real quick and hand it to him.
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I think Superman and Santa Claus are actually the same guy, and I'll tell you why: Both fly, both wear red, and both have a beard.
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I wish I had a kryptonite cross, because then you could keep both Dracula and Superman away.
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If I ever opened a trampoline store, I don't think I'd call it Trampoland, because you might think it was a store for tramps, which is not the impression we are trying to convey with our store. On the other hand, we would not prohibit tramps from browsing or testing the trampolines, unless a tramp's gyrations seem to be getting out of control.
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If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.
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If you go through a lot of hammers each month, I don't necessarily think it means you're a hard worker. It may just mean that you have a lot to learn about proper hammer maintenance.
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In weightlifting, I don't think sudden, uncontrolled urination should automatically disqualify you.
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It's easy to sit there and say you'd like more money, and I guess that's what I like about it. It's easy, just sitting there, rocking back and forth, wanting that money.
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It's too bad that whole families have to be torn apart by something as simple as wild dogs.
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Laurie got offended that I used the word "puke", but to me, that's what her dinner tasted like.
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One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned out warehouse. "Oh no," I said, "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.
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The memories of my family outings are still a source of strength to me. I remember we'd all pile into the car - I forget what kind it was - and drive and drive. I'm not sure where we'd go, but I think there were some trees there. The smell of something was strong in the air as we played whatever sport we played. I remember a bigger, older guy we called "Dad". We'd eat some stuff, or not, and then I think we went home. I guess some things never leave you.
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The wise man can pick up a grain of sand and envision a whole universe, but the stupid man will just lay down on some seaweed, and roll around until he's completely draped in it. Then he'll stand up and go, "Hey, I'm Vine Man."
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We tend to scoff at the beliefs of the ancients, but we can't scoff at them personally, to their faces, and this is what annoys me.
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When Gary told me he had found Jesus, I thought, Yahoo! We're rich! But it turned out to be something different.
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When you go for a job interview, I think a good thing to ask is if they ever press charges.
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Whenever someone asks me to define love, I usually think for a minute, then I spin around and pin the guy's arm behind his back. Now who's asking the questions?
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You know one thing that will really make a woman mad? Just run up and kick her in the butt. P.S.: this also works with men.
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The next time I have meat and mashed potatoes, I think I'll put a very large blob of potatoes on my plate with just a little piece of meat. And if someone asks me why I didn't get more meat, I'll just say, "Oh, you mean this?" and pull out a big piece of meat from inside the blob of potatoes, where I've hidden it. Good magic trick, huh?
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I wish I lived back in the old west days, because I'd save up my money for about twenty years so I could buy a solid-gold pick. Then I'd go out West and start digging for gold. When someone came up and asked what I was doing, I'd say, "Looking for gold, ya durn fool." He'd say, "Your pick is gold," and I'd say, "Well, that was easy." Good joke, huh.
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A funny thing to do is, if you're out hiking and your friend gets bitten by a poisonous snake, tell him you're going to go for help, then go about ten feet and pretend that *you* got bit by a snake. Then start an argument with him about who's going to go get help. A lot of guys will start crying. That's why it makes you feel good when you tell them it was just a joke.
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I bet a fun thing would be to go way back in time to where there was going to be an eclipse and tell the cave men, "If I have come to destroy you, may the sun be blotted out from the sky." Just then the eclipse would start, and they'd probably try to kill you or something, but then you could explain about the rotation of the moon and all, and everyone would get a good laugh.
================================================
These are my favorite of the Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy. I've read them before but they're great and if you're not familiar with Jack Handy's Deep Thoughts, you should be. What you should do, honestly, is just go to that site and there's about twice as many. I selected the thoughts in the upper 30% to save you time if you're ultra lazy or if you have troubles clicking on links. Many of his jokes are formulaic, but it works. You've got to respect a master of his trade.

~Peace

p.s.
I am not lame for copying and pasting. CPing is what Casey Perhamus does best! I am a champ!

2006-03-23T01:18:00.000-05:00

I feel like cutting off someone in public. Hard. Then if they feigned madness, I would know they were lying but give them the finger anyway in Japanese! If they thought they were tough or anything like that, I could always outrace them to safety in my 89' Civic. Or, on a whim, I could get out of my car and fist fight them. Except fist fights are for pussies. When he got out of his car, I would step on the gas and he would try to dodge my car while I tried to hit him. If he won at this game it wouldn't matter, because I could always send a pack of zombies over to his house when he was sleeping. Strong zombies. I would get his address by asking his family, who I would probably know because I'm popular and famous. If I didn't know his family, I would have to kill him right then because the zombies sure as hell wouldn't be able to find him without my help.

My English teacher from Alfred was this feminist champion who graded everything like we were in fourth grade like she was. She underlined words and wrote comments like, "put your thesis at the end of this paragraph," "well put," or "let's do it anal after class." She was hot but she gave me bad grades, especially on the papers I didn't turn in, so I didn't. If I was taking Mythology like Mr. Freeman, she would have graded this paper about Oedipus similarly. The paper, if you haven't seen it, is stunningly glorious like Aquafresh Toothpaste.

While you're at it, go download The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny fourteen more times to your computer. At the least. It kind of reminds me of a quick post I devised before I knew of its existence. Lemon Demon paints a better battle picture than I. I was a playhouse doodler eating crayons and he was Michaelangelo. I'd link to it, but I'm lazy. I'd be sitting on the couch right now if it weren't so far away. Also, then I'd be further from the computer and squinting. I would not typing either, because my arms aren't long enough to stretch from the living room to this room, oddly enough. One day they will be. And on that day I'll be able to enter the Long Man-Arms Competition and practically walk through to the finals and possibly win, if Billy Mays is having a bad enough day. But this is real life; it's not some Oxyclean Commercial where all the dirt is rubbed away. Sometimes you lose and you've got to accept it.

I laughed 'till I cried.

well, I just got an email of which I shall respond to because it's from my favorite pen pal I've ever had. Oh, and Kate sent me one too.

~peace

2006-03-20T23:56:00.000-05:00

Three key things:

1.)I uppercutted a nun yesterday. It felt good because I hadn't done so in a while. And, as always, it was rewarding.

2.)I often fantasize about punching a cat. Not a kitten--a cat. But now that you mention it, punching a kitten would be nice. Square in the face would be optimal.

3.)I was wondering at what age you become uncool. It's cool to be in your 20's. It's cool to be almost 20. If you're in your teens, everyone younger than you is no longer cool. But despite this, I think all coolness ceases to exist at about 35. At this age, you can no longer act young or hip or get drunk on weekends at parties. You no longer have a chance with pretty floosies, so you better darn well be married by then. If not, the best thing to do is mope around, hanging out in bars with creepy Harley men who want to beat up people who don't act right. But me-I'm still cool. I will continue to be cool even after everyone considers me otherwise. I'll agree with them outwardly (that I'm uncool), because that's what someone cool would do, but deep down I'd know I'm still cooler than them, and I could beat them in backgammon if I wanted.
======================================================

2 Weekend quotes from lunch:

Hobbit: Mary was crazy. She started talking about marriage after about a month of dating. I have the mentality of a 16 year old; I still giggle when someone says 'fart' or 'poopy'.
Joleen: Those words are funny! It doesn't mean you're immature!
.....
James: "Dustin takes masturbation more seriously than having sex with a girl. He puts a lot more effort into it! Dustin knows it's true."
Dustin: continues eating his apple
James: "See that look? That's the look of acknowledgement!"
Dustin: "It's not necessarily that I masturbate too much--it's that I just broke up with my girlfriend and now I don't have a girlfriend to have sex with so that's not even an issue anymore."
Hobbit: "But did she break up with you because you jerk off too much?"
Dustin: "You know...I asked her that..."

=====================================================
I spent the weekend in Alfred. It was obviously great. I didn't wear green because I am a mutt without Irish in me. haha. Mutt. James and I were beer pong champions. Team Arab! booya. We only lost one game but it was the first game for us. We weren't warmed up. Besides, losing is better than winning sometimes. Like when you want to drink the beer. But once we got warmed up we were unstoppable and everyone lost to us. It was good to laugh at the losers who dared oppose our skills, but it was unfortunate because it meant I did not get close to drunk. James however, did. Two and a half beers makes him drunk. I'm serious. Silly James.

I did not drink on St. Pattie's day when everyone got extremely drunk though, because although my kidney's deserve punishment, since selling my right kidney on the black market for a bag of rock, I've decided to be a little more cautious. One girl was vomitting hardcore for an hour, but that is to be expected. It was her first time. What a noob.

I love everybody in Alfred though. Well, not everyone. But I love my friends from Alfred. Bob and AJ also came up and they're always hilarious, Bob a hundred times more so than anybody else. James tried not returning me, but he eventually did drive me back. It was a good deed on his part.

Today, I hung out with Neal. But he leaves tomorrow for 10 days in Hawaii. What a jerk. He's skipping four days of school to stay in Hawaii longer. We didn't hang out much because he was busy fulfilling his mother's wishes and delivering applications, but we did hang out some. I decided to visit him in late April in Vermont, since he and Caitlin have been wanting me to go since the dawn of time. And he agreed to go with me to Europe in August. That should kick ass. I might have to kill some bums to help finance the trip, or millionaires if we're on top of our game, but it'll work. The glass is half full. I'm not taking a trip to Negative Town. For example, I'll cut down on expenses by buying a one-way ticket instead of a round-trip. It's bound to work.

I don't know where I'd like to visit. I'd like to pick on the British for speaking succinctly, or the French for being rude and snobbish, or the Swedes for their cheese, or the Finish for living in Finland, or the Italians for being Italian. While I'm there though, I think I could get significantly closer to my life goal of Dragon punching at least one person of every nationality. I'll make sure Neal reminds me. Whatever I do, I'm not going to do what tourists do. I hate tourists. Taking in what the country presents to them as truth. Walking the tourist path. To see a country is not to see its landmarks or to buy souveniers that say "I went to Paris and all I got was this stupid shirt," to eat fancy cousine, or visit tourist attractions. It's to just wander the streets. I think Europe is a worse place to live, generally, than the US anyways by far, but it would be fun to see. It's good for everyone to travel in their life sometime and witness different cultures. I've lived in Japan and China, and even seen exotic places like Canada, and I just think it's worthwhile.
===============
===============
For the record, I hate two-part questions with a yes or no answer. If I agree with one part of the question, but disagree about the second part of the question, what do I do? It drives me nuts. Example: "Do you like Nachos and long walks on the beach?" Hell yes I like nachos, but hell no to long walks! What am I supposed to answer?! And since when do they go together? I try to rationalize it by weighing whether I like nachos more than I dislike long walks, but it sucks balls (and not in a good way). Some whoop-di-doo robot program will see I've checked yes to that question, and give me results accordingly, oblivious to the fact that the question is flawed like a villain from a fairy tale. It frizzles my tizzle. Whatever that means. So, if you are some web designing, diabolically sinister questionaire writer, quit it with the two part questions and I'll quit sending you nasty emails with virus attachments from an untraceable IP address and photoshopped but convincing photographs of your mom doing unkind things to goats.

In other news, I think a cougar is following me. And not in a good way.

ha. I totally steal lines from Canadians.

~Peace

2006-03-15T21:07:00.000-05:00

I had a dream last night where I was just sitting at a table in the library next to Angelina Jolie and two children. AJ and I were having a conversation, and the two children (girls about 11) were talking about kissing people with alcohol breath or something. After a while, I wasn't paying attention to the kids, and they just start booing incessantly, for no apparent reason. Then I look up and see Brian Long walking by. He doesn't notice, so I start booing directly at him. Then he turns, sees us, and joins in with the booing. (We aren't booing angrily, we're just doing it for kicks.) Then we all stop booing simultaneously, and he says "what's up guys?" in his really cheery/goofy Brian J. Long voice. Then, all I can think of is him doing Beaker impressions. Then I think, "I wish I had seen the Muppets from Space Movie."

Besides being jealous that Brian got to dish out the humor in my dream in his brief appearance, I noticed I was dreaming involving a celebrity. Besides Jackie Chan, Angelina Jolie is the only celeb to have entered my dreams that I can recall, and I have a pretty good recollection of my dreams. So while I'm a little concerned that Hollywood is making its appearance inside my subconscious, I'm a bit relieved that at least it was cool people. Jackie Chan is totally cool. Angelina is cool because although she makes 30 million a year, she uses her power to fight for something she believes in: children's starvation or AIDS. Also, she captured Brad's heart, and I think that's a feat we all wish we were capable of.

================================================
I was walking around in Lowe's today thinking how much I love shopping for toilet seat covers. When I look at one, the thing that comes to my head is, "now THIS would be a good product to shit on." Looking for products to take a dump on is fun!

I'm off to Alfred tomorrow where I'll be until the weekend or whenever James feels like returning me. It should be a good time. I feel like binge food shopping for needless things like cakes and raw cookie dough to munch on. James is the only person I know who I'll visit, see a cake lying around and ask, "what's the occasion?" He replies, "Why would there be an occasion? You mean because of the cake? You don't need a reason to have cake!!" The American mindset is that cakes are for celebrating birthdays or something festive. James just likes cake. And he eats it every day. I find that admirable.

On the down side, I got a "you suck" talk from keith, a text from Derek and an IM from Sully asking if I'll be at the party, for keith's parents are constantly in Mexico, probably recruiting for their landscaping business (though they deny this). For once I'm actually too cool for them. I mean, I love socializing and/or being drunk around those guys, but I think Alfred will be more fun. It's just too bad I can't do both.
----------------------------------------

By the way, a passing grade for restaurant inspection is a minimum of 85. One of our Tim Horton's in Canandaigua got a 69 last week. I guess they were hoping George W. would stop by there yesterday during his visit, which he didn't. He was too preoccupied with telling people at The Pines (our upscale/millionaire retirement homes) about Medicare, which they were all too rich to take interest in, or with hugging J-Mac, a local autistic kid getting a movie deal because he scored 20pts in 4 minutes in the only 4 minutes he ever played. He never made the basketball team so he only got playing time because of pity. (Pity is the same reason I got playing time on varsity soccer though, so I guess I shouldn't be too bitter.) Asha told me this, but I ate there again today anyway.

Moral of the story: if I die, blame Canada.

~Peace

2006-03-13T16:18:00.000-05:00

I am not wise for I am far too young, but I do think more frequently than the average hamster. Maybe when I'm 60 I'll be able to dish out advice like attitude adjustments from Hulk Hogan. Until then, here are some common sense thoughts I've come up with and for you to think about:

1.)Wealthy people are polite because they're rich.

2.)People lie because they don't like the truth.

3.)If you're looking for something, it's easier to find it.

4.)Bean curd pie is delicious!! Actually, it's awful. I just said that so some totally ADD person would stop midsentence, bake himself a bean curd pie and eat it.

5.)When you forget you're looking for something, you're surprised when you find it.

6.)Happiness comes in ounces; pain comes in pounds.

7.)Look at yourself in the mirror often to make sure you are who you think you are, because sometimes you aren't.

8.)Sometimes it's not good to walk a mile in someone's shoes: I did that once and I totally destroyed a midget's shoes.

9.)Once, a guy created a cream called "Anti-bitch cream." However, it failed to reach market because the man's wife started yelling at him.

10.)If you strap a laser to the front of your car, you can aim better at the people you are running over.

11.)Whenever you start thinking you're high and mighty, just remember you started off as a squirt. All it takes to end you is a squirt...of hydrochloric acid.

12.)The key to understanding a person is to understand their memories.

13.)Have you ever tried to rank yourself, and things around you, as part of the world's population?

14.)Bright clear skies are most deceiving. Some exist merely for shock value.

15.)People thrive on routines in life because routines comfort us.

16.)Good looks are too often wasted on ugly people.

17.)Daytime TV is incentive to get a job. Or to get cable.

18.)The real world is a figment of our lack of imagination.

19.)If you're unhappy, the good news is you can always change your mind.

20.)Exercise would appeal to us more if we were crippled.

21.)The path less traveled is usually chosen when lost.

22.)A penny saved is a penny...who cares about pennies these days? But, I think the old phrase was something like: a penny saved is a penny you don't have to earn.

23.)If you think the world makes sense, consider this: we need a license to fish, but any old schmuck can have a baby.

24.)Don't put off 'till later what you can put off 'till much later.

25.)The British are a ridiculous race of which there are no winners.

26.)Chuck Norris doesn't go hunting because hunting implies the possibility of failure. Chuck Norris goes killing.

27.)Sometimes there is nothing so funny as a joke. If you are the joke, at least you're funny. If you are the joke because you take yourself too seriously, being conceited is being topical.

comments are always welcome like rich men to a strip club,
~Peace

P.S.
bean. curd. pie?? Seriously. WTF?!

2006-03-11T01:26:00.000-05:00

I've heard of this thing called, "tagging." Once tagged by someone, the idea is you complete a series of questions about yourself, then proceed to tag some other people. However, seeing as I have no coworkers or fellow blogger friends who interact with me on this here blog, it is safe to say I will not get tagged. Therefore, I am tagging myself! Eat it, fools. No tag-backs.

Four jobs I've had:
1. Official Beer Taster
2. Ski instructor
3. Bunker Supervisor and Lawn/field Care Manager
4. Subway whore

Four movies I can watch over and over:
1. I don't like to watch movies more than thrice.
2. Unless there are special circumstances.
3. But I like the comedy and action sorts.
4. The recently released porno starring your mom.

Four Places I have lived:
1. Canandaigua, NY
2. Osaka, Japan (2 years)
3. Beijing, China (1 year)
4. Alfred's and Buffalo's campuses

Five Shows I love:
1. Family Guy
2. Aqua Teen Hunger Force
3. Seinfeld
4. Simpsons (not as much as I used to)
5. Conan O'brian

Four highly-touted TV shows I don't enjoy:
1. Survivor (not deadly enough)
2. American Idol (the votes are blatantly rigged)
3. The OC (I saw some episodes and the script was horrendous)
4. Nanny 911 (British bitches bossing badly-behaving brats)
5. there are hundreds of shows that should go on this list

Four books I'd recommend to my friends, anytime:
1. Perks of Being a Wallflower
2. Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus
3. I Like Being Killed
4. Brain Sex

Four places I have vacationed:
1. Toronto.
2. various Carribean Islands.
3. 44 of the states
4. China.

Four of my favorite dishes:
1. some sort of meat sandwich
2. Spaghetti w/ balls
3. something Chinese
4. Lasagna

Four sites I visit daily:
1. My blog
2. Yep.
3. That's about it.
4. I don't have routine site checks.

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. In Alfred/visiting any of my friends
2. At one of DJ Sutle's house parties/any party
3. My girlfriend's house/any girl's house
4. Australia/any distant place

Four of my favorite qualities:
1. honest (except when playin' around)
2. socially adaptive (I have really varied friends)
3. easy going (I find good in almost everybody)
4. I make the atmosphere comfortable with my magic

And I'm tagging:
1. your mom
2. your dog

========================================
In other news...
Gagne and I saw the Canandaigua Academy play, Music Man, starring Isaac Tayrien and Mrs. Drake's ridiculously cute daughter, and it was quite good. Our high school always puts in enormous amounts of time and effort into these productions, and we have a very strong theater program and talented actors. Few in the Rochester area can even touch Isaac's skills. And I saw several of my old classmates. Venessa is having a baby in October! And soo many people looked amazing. Seeing beautiful people makes me want to work out constantly so I can look like Arnold but much weaker. Anyway, I'll see people again tomorrow at Wegmans and possibly hijack my way into seeing it again, but tomorrow isn't Isaac, so it won't be as good. We'll see if Ben, Adam and crew convince me or not.

2006-03-10T02:35:00.000-05:00

Cancerous fools always seem tough. I think of Lance Armstrong, or his wife Sheryl Crow. They're everybody's idol (isn't Lance...dreamy?), but not everybody can be those people. Not everybody beats cancer. Three of my grandparents didn't (the fourth died of the plague). I'm sick of people saying tearfully, "but I know he/she will make it through this and beat cancer....because Johnny/Susan is a fighter." Maybe they are, maybe not. I don't think your teary-eyed opinion is the reliable, non-biased one for me. I saw on Dateline yesterday a father who claimed his three-year-old was a fighter, and thus would beat his lethal disease. That's sad and all, but these people are deluding themselves. You can't know if they're a fighter or not, especially a mentally challenged one at three years of age. I've never heard of someone say, "Yeah, this cancer is going to beat him because he's not a fighter. He just sits there and takes it. In fact, he's a little bitch." Nobody does that for some reason. Nobody admits that they're fucked. I do. I'm sure hope helps the mind and increases their chance of survival, but on the other hand...face reality. People die. Children die. Eventually, everything dies. There's nothing you can do about it unless you are Chuck Norris.

All I ever hear is, "so-and-so's a fighter." What about the rest of the people? Don't non-fighters (pacifists) ever get cancer? If not, then pacifism is the way to go. The true way to beat cancer is to be the pacifist, the non-fighter, the closet-geek who gets his teeth punched in and his lunch money stolen by the fighters of this country. Don't worry; they'll get theirs. Just you wait. Remember, that's why God invented religion.

Mark always makes me laugh. His mom has breast cancer, and his whole family eventually gets killed by cancer, so his stance is that eventually he'll get it. He knows he's fucked. And that I can respect. Me: same thing. I'm fucked. I'll probably get cancer if I live to be old, but who wants to be old anyway? Nobody.

Only the good die young, right? That would explain why all the old people I know are creepy, smelly, clingy, grouchy bastards. If you can't take care of yourself, Darwinism says you die. If you were nice, people take care of you. If you were a bastard who beat your kids and everyone hates you--you get abandoned. That's the way it should be. And society shouldn't say, "Oh, you don't visit your parents? That's so sadly awful!" and guilt-trip you. You just say, "That's right. They were jerks and don't deserve my attention." Then punch the guilt-tripper in the face. I say, if parents were more worried about their future, they would either work harder to ensure they don't become reliant on their children later on, be nicer to their kids, or actually do some parenting. Some people are innocently born a cancer to society. Bad parenting is doing crap for this country. Not that this is a personal issue; I'm just saying what you already know.

Another thing: this computer only saves pictures in .bmp or .art so I can't post pictures. That's why this site is so ruthlessly boring and devoid of funny pictures between the clutter of text. However, I have good things to look forward to tomorrow, so I should stop complaining.

All in all, this post was a worthless diatribe. I guess I was primarily perturbed by the delusional father who adamantly proclaimed his retarded infant was a fighter, until I got side-tracked while stuck in my Maddox mindset, of whom Caitlin is justifiably prone to reminding me I am not. Thanks, Caitlin. I need those reminders. "And now for something completely different: A dead parrot."

~adios, bored patrons

2006-03-09T00:16:00.000-05:00

Word, y'all.

The sole purpose of this post is to express my intense love affair with a woman, a metaphorical woman by the name of DrMcNinja.com. This is a fantastic comic and everyone will like it (I recommend the current story over the archives). It has everything I ever wanted in a comic about ninjas and tells the story about the rivalry between Pirates and Ninjas. Dr. McNinja is this drunk Irish Ninja Doctor with problems and skills. He enjoys high fives. He enjoys high fives with animals. There's even Lumberjacks and Gorillas! Seriously, don't go another day without adding the Dr. McNinja elixir of happiness to your recipe of joy in the lunchtime that is the present. You'll thank me later. Or more probably, enjoy it but say nothing. But at least you'll enjoy it. I want to spread happiness like the Black Plague massacreing Europe in 1347. Especially the French. Dirty bastards. Jean-Claude Van Damme can stuff his acting in a box and mail it to the North Pole, which is equally nonexistant. (Jean-Claude, if you're reading this, I'm actually a fan. I was kidding.) For the rest of you, Jean-Claude really is a douchebag.

~Peace, y'all.

2006-03-06T00:21:00.000-05:00

Ahh. I just had a wonderful conversation with Neal. Conversations make me feel alive. I guess that's what I miss most about life. I've been so wrapped up in my own thoughts. All the time, no ideas coming from anywhere but me. And it works pretty well for I have a pretty logical brain that assesses situations from many angles, but sometimes it just can't compare with a different point of view. It's that comment you wouldn't suspect; the unforseen joke; the words of someone living a different life. Examples:

(referring to caitlin...)
Nealblind: we both think we are smarter than each other
Cpjunkie6: hmm... you should have a series of games
Nealblind: don't say anything
Nealblind: okay
Nealblind: no
Cpjunkie6: and the winner gets to wear a shirt that says, "i'm with stupid"
....
Nealblind: find a metal girl
Cpjunkie6: one made of Bronze?
Nealblind: no
Nealblind: one with bronze
Nealblind: piercings
Cpjunkie6: haha, i'll make that my plan B
Cpjunkie6: plan A being find one without bronze piercings
Cpjunkie6: but thanks for your support
Nealblind: that is quiter's talk
Cpjunkie6: haha
Nealblind: there are plenty of those

I get a kick out of Neal. He humors me while being humorous and serious at the same time. His large words frighten me though, like hedonistic, misogynistic and poogas. I learned how dumb people feel, gripped by the firm hand of ignorance. I used to use big words without realizing it back when I read constantly, and kids daily would say, "stop acting smart with your big words," or some crap like that. Problem solved, because I've forgotten my vocabulary. I love exercising my humor, or saying things that people say, "that's so quotable," (this happens often when I am under the influence). But I also love hearing it from others. I also love how he doesn't use the word "lol" in AIM-speak. It's too high school girlish. Don't get me wrong, I'm pro high school girls, but lol should not be used by a man more than necessary. And it's rarely necessary. An actual laugh will suffice. And never use lol when you're not actually laughing. That's abuse of the word.

I surf blogs for interesting reading material. Here's your blog quote of the day brought to you by a bubbly high school girl, and the letter J.

OH YAY!
WEATHER REPORT!
i love the weather man
he's my buddy
we tell each other everything
except
he doesn't often have anything
interesting to say
except things like
"small chance of rain today"
or
"hurricane *enter name* will hit *enter state,city,country* next wednesday"
so you see
he isn't very entertaining
and I often feel like hurting him
so he will stop telling me the weather
and do something interesting for once
but somehow
i don't think thats gonna happen anytime soon

Well, that's enough of my ramblings. I haven't rambled for a couple weeks, so you had to know it was coming. As always, I try keeping the reading full of content for all sorts of psychologically unstable people. Sometimes it's stories, sometimes it's updates on cool happenings, sometimes it's editorials, sometimes it's just stuff I find interesting.

The best part of running your own business--if you're not concerned about how many customers you get, you can do whatever you want.

--Peace

2006-03-04T21:55:00.000-05:00

Spell check cleared: no errors. Jeremy looked at his watch with a satisfied sigh and read over his last piece once more. He wanted it to be perfect: anti-depressing and to reflect who he was. Suicide notes were often done quickly and with little thought, scribbled down in the last moments of someone’s miserable life. Apologetic. Pathetic. People walked in to a sight depressing enough and suicide notes were rarely the highlight of one’s day. Jeremy wanted to be different. He read:

Hey! What’s up guys? Hope everyone’s doin’ fine. You’re probably wondering about the body that lies beside this note. I didn’t kill that guy, that’s me. I swear it wasn’t me; it was the one armed man! I don’t want you guys to think I died depressed because I’m not. In fact I’m having a pretty good day. Which is why I’m motivated enough to do something most people can’t, through lack of motivation or whatever, bring themselves to do. And you’d probably agree that a lot of people should kill themselves to make the world a better place. I’ve always wondered why people who are depressed and at their wits end, find the motivation to kill themselves. Seems like they’d be too apathetic about it, or whatever... You’ve probably got questions, and I’ll be happy to answer them for you. Most suicide noters don’t do a nice job. They seem to always leave their friends and relatives with unanswered questions: Why did he do it? Why now? Why not ten years ago? My goal is to answer all your questions. I hope I’ve thought of everything, because I will not be answering any more.

Why did I do it? Well, I haven’t yet, but I’m all gung-ho about it, so I’ll write as if it already happened. It all happened when I was watching a rerun of Survivor–I realized how awful and bad network television was. I never much liked television, but I was compelled, probably by the same force that makes customers repeatedly go to Walmart for their shopping needs, to keep watching week after week. Finally, my television broke. Without television, I got bored out of my skull, and asked myself, “what else can I do with my Saturday afternoons?” Suicide was the answer that stuck in my mind.

How’s the wife and kids? (I’m asking you that.) I hope they’re fine. As much as I support the intention behind the suicide of dead-beat dads and parents who beat their kids, I think parents should do what they’re capable of to help those less fortunate (their kids can’t even rent R-rated movies). Being the considerate guy I am, I did this guilt-free. I don’t have any wives or kids. At least not legitimate ones. Thus, I’m not leaving anybody who needs me. At thirty-six, I figured it’d be a good time to die, before I got desperately old and started dishing out cheesy pick-up lines to hookers. I have standards you know.

Thirty-six is a good age for suicide. I’ve outlived many greats like Elvis, John Belushi and Mitch Hedberg. (Alright, not Elvis, but cut me a break. I can't compete with THE KING.) I’ve outlived children who died from drug habits, alcohol poisonings and all those kids who ate marbles and asbestos. It’s survival of the fittest. I liked it better when cave-men ran the earth. They consistently died before the age of 40, before they needed wheelchairs, before they needed a health care program, and before they elected jackass Presidents into office. Sometimes unfortunately, they died after their wives caught them cheating with the cave-girl next door. Sometimes it was directly related.

The best part of life is often childhood. You get to run around with no job or worries. Your primary goal is to grow-up so you can gain more responsibilities and become responsible. Kids, listen up: it’s not good to be responsible. Every time there’s a problem, somebody always asks, “who’s responsible for all of this?” I can say I lived through that part happily. And teenager-ing was fun, and college, and my twenties. I’ve had a good time.

Many people die with no more to offer the world. I die with much more to offer it. It’s good to die when you’re on top of the world instead of the bottom. People think, “Wow, we were robbed of years more of his talent” (like John Belushi and many real-world greats). When you’re at the bottom, nobody really cares, or if they do it’s pity. I get to go out on my own terms and I think that’s why I’m better than you.

Many people die sick, senile, or unexpectedly. I’m not going to let Death grab me by surprise through some freak car accident, in a hostage situation while I’m at Denny’s eating my Grand Slam, or with a sudden attack of Cancer. No. Death is my bitch. I leave whenever I want to.

As for my method of death, I went with the pistol-six shooter. Cow-boyish and conventional, but nonetheless an effective means of accomplishing your goal. I hope you don’t think me unoriginal for going with a gun, but the other means didn’t appeal to me. Let me explain:

I thought of jumping off a high building. Those last few moments of skydiving and free-falling must be exhilarating, especially when you know you have no parachute. It would be a rush and a sweet way to go, but what about the negatives? Who knows how many people change their mind about suicide while they’re plummeting to their doom? I didn’t want to be one of those people. Also, those get a lot of negative publicity from the media. And if I landed on somebody, I could kill them and get a ticket for vehicular, no human-body-cular manslaughter. It would also be a bitch to clean up. And what if my suicide note flew off when I was flying through the air? Noone would get to read the cool thoughts I had before my death. So I ruled this one out.

I thought of drowning myself, but drowned bodies are bloated, blue and freaky as hell. Also, I like breathing air. It’s worked pretty well for me. I couldn’t see myself consciously trying to fill my lungs with water. Carbon monoxide, second hand smoke and marijuana smoke: yes. But not water. It’s just not satisfying. I could see myself trying to do it and each time holding my breath. There had to be something better.

I thought of killing myself with a drug overdose. Many greats have gone out that way. You’d experience the joy of drugs until you went into a coma. People always warn you about drugs and how dangerous they are. But people do them anyways. There must be reasons greater than the negatives. And hey, if you decided you’re going to die anyways, fuck your health. Who dies healthy? This is why my coroner’s report might find lots of marijuana in my body, but finally conclude my death was indeed caused by the bullet to the head. Drug OD’s always leave the possibility of being rescued when someone stumbles in for a visit, and that would just look bad. Finally, drugs are more of a woman’s wussy way out. Women try to kill themselves with drugs all the time. Men use guns. This is why guys are 78% more likely to be successful in killing themselves. Women, if you are complaining about inequality in the work force, you’ve got to prove you can do things as well as us men, starting with suicide.

I thought of hanging, but that is sooooo pre-1900's. I thought of spontaneously combusting, but figured it was just too difficult for an amateur like myself. I thought of dousing myself in barbeque sauce, visiting a killer bee-farm with my sling-shot and fleeing like a little girl.

Then, I started thinking creatively. I thought of killing myself in a real-world game of Frogger on Interstate 84 at rush hour. I would build myself a beautiful green frog costume and go at it! I realized, of course, that I am far too nimble and quick to not dodge cars and I’d get to Level 43 before I got a game-over when cops showed up, stopped traffic and tried to convince me to go away in their police-vehicle. If it was Frogger, I could help my goal by placing a bottle of Crystal on each side of the Interstate. Each time I made it across, I’d take another few swigs of high-quality alcohol. I figured I would get effed up enough to get splattered before I finished two bottles. It would be unique, exciting and fun. Frogger has always been a great game to me. This was looking promising. I came really close to choosing this one.

But then I started thinking about others. I would probably wreck someone’s car. I mean, not as much as a deer would, because I’m not a Sumo wrestler, but they’d probably have to mess with insurance, and that’s never fun for anybody. Also, unless I got hit by a large Semi, a Toyota Tundra, or a Ford Escape-like vehicle, the “accident” could end up hurting someone. Lastly, it might ruin someone’s day. I’m not out to ruin anybody’s day, so I decided against this.

I settled with the six-shooter as the most effective, safest way to die. You can’t argue with results. Also, I’m going to play a game of Russian Roulette. I’ll see how far I get and see if you can beat my score!! I could set a world record. Who knows?

Jeremy finished contentedly, imagining how someone would react to all of this, took a sip of Mt. Dew and took another big hit of Mary Jane that sent him coughing. He was high and loved it. He looked at his unpaid bills stacked on the coffee table and the words in red Sharpee he had written on them: “HAHA, BITCHES!! SUCK IT!!” He started laughing. He wouldn’t have to pay his bills! It was his one little way of stickin’ it to the man. He had maxed out his Capital One Platinum, VisaGold, MasterCard and several others with evil satisfaction. When the sales clerk apologetically said, “Your card is maxed, sir,” he had smirkingly responded, “Haha...sweet! Try this one.”

He looked around his completely baren apartment. ALL of his stuff had been donated to his friends, family or charities over the last week Credit card collectors couldn’t repossess his belongings. He was sticking it to evil credit companies who ruined thousands of people’s lives with their hidden charges, looks-too-good-to-be-true interest rates, and other immoral nonsense. He counted his six silver bullets with the word “Lucky” inscribed on it. Lucky was his nickname in high school. You think you get away from it, but in the end you never do. He inserted bullet one with maniacal snickering, closed it and gave it a spin. He bent down and wrote on his note once more:
Well, it’s time to let the games begin! Here goes bullet one!

He placed the barrel against his dome and took another hit from his bong. He shuddered, gritted his teeth, squinted his eyes and squeezed.
—click—

“Okey dokey.” He wrote again. “Looks like I was too tough for one bullet. Time for round two...”

—click—

“I’m not dead yet, but I’m going to persevere. Wish me luck with round three!!”

He took a smaller hit and inserted bullet three. “Here goes nothing!” He jerked the trigger.
—click—

“I’m well on my way to a success with round four. Cheers, everyone!”

With an inserted fourth bullet in the chamber, he squeezed.
—click—

“Looks like I’m getting a high score after all!! Not many people have lived through four rounds of this game. Here goes round freaking’ five!!! It’s totally insane!”

He was certain he would die now as he gave the revolver a spin.
—click—

Eyebrows raised. His jaw dropped. “Wow,” he wrote down. “I can’t believe I didn’t die that time! Death is jerkin’ me around. I’m starting to think my gun is broken, but it shouldn’t be. If it isn’t, these are the last words I’ll write as a living individual like yourselves. I’m going out with a bang! Final Round. Round Six...”
He placed in the sixth bullet and gave it a spin, though he didn’t see the point. Habit. With closed eyes and a mouthful of smoke, his finger squeezed the trigger....

2006-02-27T00:05:00.000-05:00

For whoever doesn't know me, here are six things you should know about me:

1.)I live with my parents.
2.)I don't have a job or a car.
3.)I'm taking a semester off from school.
4.)I don't have a girlfriend.
5.)I crashed my dad's car recently.
6.)I'm gorgeous.

Well, to be fair, not everyone would use the word gorgeous, but when I ask, "Mirror, Mirror, on the wall..." the only face that appears is my own.

Talking to James yesterday, he remembered I don't have the connection to play Halo2 online. His response: "oh noo! You don't have Halo! What do you do!?" (He meant this concernedly, not sarcastically.) I said, "Without Halo, there's really only one thing to do: Prozac." He's like, "oh nooo. Really?" hahaha. No, it was a joke. But then I realized, yeah...given the above six reasons, I have good reasons to be depressed. But I'm neither depressed nor depressing to be around. I think everyone who knows me would say I'm fun to be around (especially your mom!). I think it's because I maintain my positive ora, listen to music, and frequently crack lame jokes that I laugh at. Something like: you know who's a real bitch? Lassie.

Sometimes I think the person that loves me most is my dog, but he doesn't even say it. Unless "ruff ruff!" means "I love you." But usually it just means, "let me in!" or "I'm hungry." My dog is pretty cool. He's a friendly, shiny, 7-year-old chocolate lab with a laziness that rivals my Aunt Helda's.

My dog never plays fetch, (neither does Aunt Helda). I forgot this yesterday, got him riled up with a tennis ball, then went outside and hucked it in the yard. My dog ran a couple feet then just watched as it sailed through the air. He looked at me. He looked back at the ball. I gave him lots of encouragement. "Come on! Come on, Cocoa! Get it! Get your ball! Get the ball, you bum!" So he decided to go over to the ball, started sniffing it. Then he took a dump right on the ball. It was really amazing. Then he came back and no amount of convincing him could get him to go back and get the tennis ball. He doesn't like things that bounce; he likes bones and things that are hard. If he was a person, he would be an unfunny version of Mario Cantone. That's okay. I'm content with my lazy-ass gay dog.

He doesn't really come when you call him. It takes lots of convincing...usually six or seven calls and promise of a reward. He's disobedient, but at least he practices civil disobedience. According to Gandhi and Martin Luther King, those are the best kinds of disobedience. At least he doesn't go around biting people viciously like Rot Wilers when you tell him to sit or play dead. When we tell him to play dead, usually he's already doing it. And when we tell him to sit, he's usually already sitting. I figure at least calling out what he's already doing makes him appear somewhat obedient.

In conclusion, I like dogs, flowers, and shiny things, and things that go, "boom!" Also, the best thing about car crashes is the feeling of excitement right before it happens. And the thing that makes raquetball better than tennis is that in tennis you don't get that feeling of claustrophobic euphoria. Also, since all my heroes like Mitch Hedberg keep dying, my new favorite hero is Shani Davis. If you saw his interview last week right after winning a gold medal, you'd know why (hint: he hates reporters).

The moral of the story: if you constantly overdose your dog with tranquilizers, he will be very lazy.

------------------------------------------------

If I knew where this was, I would never pee anywhere else.

2006-02-26T14:44:00.000-05:00

For those of you who care: My Yesterday.

I remember yesterday vividly; I remember it like it was yesterday.

Yesterday was good. I remember I was psyched because I saw Chuck Norris on an infomercial for the Total Gym. His presence gave me energy. I used this energy to complete various chores. I wrote emails to potential employers, I researched places to work, I looked up the translations for various Italian phrases, I even washed my dog with nothing but flea shampoo and determination. I even continued my trend of doing the dishes, laundry, keeping the house tidy, and setting necessary things on fire. Even if you think otherwise, I'm not really a pyro; I burned only things like wood to keep warm, trash to erase from our presence, and the houses of my enemies.
Yesterday was good because I was going to see my friends from Alfred like James, Josh, Mark, Nick, Brian and even Derek and Bob, who I hadn't seen in a year-ish. So I did my version of home work, then left my forsaken house.

After driving for a while, jamming to myself sing Barry Manilow, a revelation hit me: ice. I'm kidding. My revelation was that today was not a good day to go to Alfred--it was a good day to die!! Immediately after discovering this, I hit a patch of ice on a turn, did some excellent driving maneuvers, and found myself in a ditch two seconds later. I was like, "this sucks, I'm in a ditch and I can't drive out of here. Shit, I'm gunna have to get a tow truck. Shit, I'm not gunna make it to Alfred. Shit, I'll have to file insurance and up go my premiums." So I got out and looked at my car and all that was wrong was some chippage of the front and back bumper. So I called my dad, after figuring out the wording to best reveal my hidden surprise for him. It was something like this: "Hey dad. I um. I'm in a ditch and I can't get out." "Did you total the car?" "No, but there's some damage to the bumper" "Shit. Okay, call your mom and we'll be down. where are you and blablabla?" Some guy pulled over and tried to tow me out but that failed. A policeman showed up. Triple A showed up. My parents showed up. It was a party. But at this party there was no alcohol--only police reports, raised insurance premiums and proud parents. Worse than that, it was really frickin' cold out. It grew so cold that there was snow on the ground and on my jacket. It sucked.

So we drove back up to my house which was like 30 minutes. My mom was doing the speed limit which was way faster than I had been going. I was probably going 45mph, knowing I could be going faster, and with a knowing determination that it would take me a lot longer to get to Alfred with these conditions. Then again, I had been driving unknowingly on completely bald back tires. As in most cases, baldness was not a good thing.

The triple A guy got stuck in our driveway. We congratulated him and offered him a cup of hot chocolate, but he declined. My dad got the tractor out and I called for Mr. Rose's support. By the time Mr. Rose got there, my dad had towed the tow truck back down our driveway. The car is still across from our house in the park. That guy did not get a tip. Well, we told him to try hitting the gas next time, but he didn't strike me as the kind of guy who finished Canandaigua Academy high school. Maybe he'll learn from this experience, but it's not the kind of experience you put on your resume.

I didn't get to go to Alfred, but I'll never forget yesterday. The car is still across the street with a snapped axle and no doubt a $5,000-6,000 gash (that's American, not lovely Canadian) in my dad's bank account that we can't afford, yet I still found some good in all of this: we will save on our gas expenses over the next week or so without a car. And that's a hefty bundle! Actually, as I think of this, my dad said he'd try to get the old 89' Civic insured and back on the road ASAP. Shit. Looks like we won't be saving on gas afterall. But if there's one thing we take away from this it's that my dad learns a lesson: never lend me the car ever again.

At least I'm not getting owned by a goat.

so that's what happened yesterday,
--Peace
---------------------------
update: We have no insurance on that car somehow because we got too many skills and we like to take chances. The '89 is on the road and fixing this car could be done for between $500-1000 Canadian, which means it's practically nothing. Looks like it wasn't as bad as we thought! And Kate, I never used the word wussy. You're insane. Ha.

2006-02-23T00:31:00.000-05:00

Am I cool or uncool?

You are a Square!

You are a total dork. The pocket protecter and thick-lensed glasses give it away. Try watching some popular TV.. Get yourself some fashion sense already! On the plus side, no wait hang on, there is no plus side! Nerdsville, population YOU!

I was like, "No way, this cannot be." I figured this test made a mistake so I took it again and yup, guess what...

You are SUPER-COOL! Aces!

Am I cool or uncool?

You are Super-Cool!

Woah! Step back - the future's so bright for you it's blinding me! You are the coolest of the cool. Everyone looks up to you as the benchmark for being coooool. The fonze was your grandfather! You drive a ragtop mustang in the summertime. All the good ladies know your name. You don't need a pickup line, just the pickup truck. You're so cool it's chilly in here. I wish I was you!

This only verifies what we already knew was true: quizzes sometimes make errors. I have to say, the person who created this quiz is definitely a nerd. Look at the words he wrote to describe someone cool: "the fonze was your grandfather"??! The fonze is not cool. "You're so cool it's chilly in here"??! That is the lamest line. It's even lamer seeing it on print than when that girl at the club said it to me. Oh well.

2006-02-21T02:02:00.000-05:00

You Are 21 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. Also, you like candy and Sponge Bob Squarepants.

13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world, like Indiana Jones at a rock concert.

20-29: You are a twenty something at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. Not drugs though: DARE taught you lessons.

30-39: You are a thirty something at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! You want to fight Mike Tyson!

40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already, like a drunken night with a hot chick. Now you get to sit back and nap it off.

What Age Do You Act?

It says I'm 21, which would be cool because then I wouldn't have to ask other people to buy me alcohol. I say if you're taking a quiz to find out your age, you automatically subtract two years.

I stole this link from Kate but I thought I'd elaborate upon my strong opinion of quizzes. They're like horoscopes to me, or the fortune cookies that actually have fortunes on them. They only mean something if you believe in them. People who take these things seriously get me bloody mad (I just wanted to use a British word--to make a point on how silly it is). People need to realize they're for entertainment purposes only. If your horoscope reads, "steer clear of Geminis" and especially if you're a girl, don't believe it, don't follow it, and don't change your life in any way because of stupid superstitions. Cancer on the other hand, is a good one to avoid.

A good motto to live by: "avoid death at all costs."

I feel like baking myself a sheet cake,
~Casey

2006-02-20T21:50:00.000-05:00

I love quotes. I love reading a lifetime of pain and learning summed up in a single statement--a single piece of advice. When I'm reading a quote, I immediately know it's good if it means something to me. My heart feels different as I acknowledge my acceptance of what was said. I don't go based on who wrote it, for even a Nobody can say something meaningful. That being said, I recommend you read up on some quotes. Not that randomly saying them out of context is cool, but if applicable, they can be quite handy.

Know what's weird? Day by day, nothing seems to change. But pretty soon, everything's different.
~Bill Watterson

2006-02-20T21:31:00.000-05:00

Fire!!
Are you or someone you know on fire? Being on fire is a serious problem and needs to be dealt with immediately.

Here are some steps you can follow to avoid being on fire:

1.) Don’t douse yourself in flammable liquids.
2.) If you must disobey rule number one, avoid lighters, fireworks, and other places where fire may occur.
3.) Alcohol and drunken friends can lead to problems with fire. Keep contact with pyros to a minimum.

If you find yourself on fire, follow these steps:

1.) Tell someone you are on fire.
2.) Don’t panic!! Panicking will make others panic as well, and then they won’t react properly.
3.) Look around for a fire extinguisher, or if one is not nearby, dial 911.
4.) Wait patiently while help arrives and try not to get pessimistic about your situation. We all have our problems to deal with.

Hopefully, you will never catch fire, but if you do, maybe now you’ll be more prepared with what to do.

--------------------------------

When I was in Buffalo, I ran off a few of these flyers and posted them around my building and around the dorms. The fire safety flyers they had there were really dumb, so I mocked them. It was even all jazzy and professional-looking. Props to me. Props for free.
--Peace

2006-02-19T19:06:00.000-05:00

I'm happy. Happy and hungry, but first: happy.

I'm happy because I had a "philosophical" argument with a little girl and won. Also, I beat her in a staring contest (cheating or no, I still won). I am an uber champion.

Today, I felt like Calvin's dad. I told children of ages 7 and 9 things that are not true. Example:

They wanted to go hiking in 10 degree weather and I did not. I told them I was afraid of the bears. Disregarding that they hibernate, I gave them my tips for fighting off a bear, as I have done many times. Then, I moved on to coyote's (disregarding that they're nocturnal). The thing about coyotes is that they have low self esteem. If a coyote approaches you, you want to make fun of it and make it feel like it does not fit in. If you do this, it will go away and later cry into the night.

These particular children were fun because I could beat them in everything. Unlike, bigger, smarter children, this variety could not beat me in wrestling, football, singing, knowledge of facts, dishwashing, or boxing (I box children like a pro). Also, they believe stuff you tell thim simply on the basis that you're bigger than them. I told these children I was 30 and they weren't sure. I told them what year I was born, and still...uncertainty about this 30. I particularly liked when the girl of nine got a piece of paper and wrote 1986 and 2006 and proceeded to add them. (If you are unsure, you're supposed to subtract to get the approximate age.)

My favorite quote was "your head is filled with nonsense. Nothing but nonsense. You're weird and you don't make any sense." or possibly (upon elaberately explaining the existence of Fahrenheit, Celsius, and Kelvin scales) "Huh? What's...Celsius?" in the most puzzled disbelief I've ever seen.

Children are impressionable, and I enjoy both toying with their feeble minds and exercising my superiority in games and challenges of all types.

--------------------------------------------------------------
I got to thinking...

When you lose a limb or digit through amputation, it still feels like it's there. The brain doesn't recognize that there has been an amputation. The feels-like-it's-still-there amputated finger or whatever, is called a phantom.

What would happen if a laid back guy had his pointer finger removed? He might go on giving people the finger, when all he wants is to show peace.

I thought this was cool, but probably only because I'm a pro-gamer. Lil poison is seriously the cutest kid, and he plays Halo2. Kid, you had me at "Halo." I went down and saw him in Philly last summer and he really is rockin' solid, one of the best in the world, not to mention he went pro at age five. He's a genius for his age. There's some controversy over him playing, being young and competitive and playing an NC-17 game, but I think he's fine.

Anyways, keep up the pace.
--Peace

2006-02-17T21:51:00.000-05:00

Behold, my friend, as here am I.
As you are now so once was I.
As I am now, so you will be.
Prepare to die, and follow me.

I read a tombstone with this engraving while wandering a graveyard. I found it humorous; my sister found it morbid and depressing. It's kind of interesting to think that once we're dead at whatever age it is we die, after hundreds of years, all people will know about your life and everything you accomplished in it, will be summed up on a stone.

And even that is suspect.

Whenever someone dies, people always have nice things to say about that person. Even a despicable man could have something like, "successful, loyal, dedicated, hard-worker" and all the bad things about the man are left out, as if they were unimportant or never happened. In the words of my dad, "A bad man has never died." Is this the message we're trying to give? That all that matters is what good we do and the bad is forgotten? I think you have to take the good with the bad. When they're dead, just because they're not there to defend themselves is no reason to leave out the truth. Hell, it's even more reason. He had all his lifetime to make his impression on us.

What's interesting (to someone as easily amused as I) is comparing people who lived their lives to an old age versus those who died early (in their teens, twenties,thirties...). The former approved what went on their tombstone, while those who died "before their time" had no idea what would be put on it. I think they still read the same. Perhaps there should be a website where everyone can go and update their eulogy and engraving, so that in the event of sudden death, you don't rely on other people/make them do work. It's a courtesy for your lazy friends, or if you have no friends it makes you seem good.

I think it's wack how everyone takes death so seriously. It's totally normal and inevitable and I don't find it depressing when people die. Is it just me or does everyone get sad when someone dies? At my funeral, I put the responsibility on my readers to inform everyone in charge that I want spiked punch for old and young children alike, and umbrellas in the drinks, and there will be people giving you high fives instead of depressingly solemn greeters. Also, I want Weird Al to perform. I would enjoy watching his old bones trying to fit his foot behind his head while hopping dressed as a Jedi singing "The Saga Begins" instead of "American Pie," or perhaps a more applicable song like, "Never Met A Person As Wonderful As Me," "Happy Birthday" or "It's all about the Pentiums." People cried when I came into this world, so it's only fair that nobody cries when I die ('cause usually it's the reverse).

Life means stuff when we're here, but when was the last time you cared about someone who died a thousand years ago? A hundred years even? We came, we saw, we left. The world would be really crowded without it. So...yeah. Death is cool. I'm gunna give Death a high five, for I enjoy partaking in the distribution and acquisition of high fives. I think that's something everyone should know about me.

Anyways, I could go on, but I've expressed my basic drift and rambled on enough for one night. You're probably bored and I respect you. Also, my sister makes me feel like my thoughts are worthless and trivial and not pertinant to daily life. I was making a valid point about an intermediary stage of lighting between dark and bright rooms to reduce the painful duration of pupil dilations, then went on about this red blueberry I saw that gave my brain mixed messages about its color. "That's great," was her sarcastic response. I guess that's why I ramble on here sometimes, because my family doesn't care and I feel like expressing my thoughts. But thanks for listening. And feel free to give me your two cents (I don't have a job *non-creepy wink*).

Time for lessons in French:

Je vous aurais bien aide, mais je ne vous aime pas.

On t'a bercé trop près du mur?"

T'as une tête a faire sauter les plaques d'egouts!

Votre grenouille a mangé mon dejeuner.

A dollar to anyone who finds their translations. Peace, fou.

2006-02-14T03:37:00.000-05:00

Screaming joke monkeys are wandering bastards.
Peaceful hillbillys laugh wickedly at jigsaw puzzles and etymylogical teasers.
Saturday night gypsies use rhyming dictionaries to rap "gently" with "nestling jealousy."
Come on, preacher; video games and Family Guy bring happiness until midnight.
Stranger kids go to Diaryland, instead of The Onion, with sweet devotion instead of angry telepathic mcstories, for their brainwashing necessities.
A pragmatic Daschund awoke vigorously to inquiries from Helen Keller’s attic to find local pine trees in disarray throughout the town.
Sometimes we use a Proteus Mind Machine to fathom erotic mind control stories to map the liquid subconcious versus digital fiction. Shut up, it’s more fun than playing guitar, silly.
I am a little dazed, but I can take no more of your sweet boredom or Kids in the Hall type medicine.

2006-02-13T18:22:00.000-05:00

W00t! Blogger has been down for me, maybe not for anyone else, but for me. I blame Dan Rather and possibly Peter Jennings.

So the big deal of the now is Valentine's Day, or as Elyse calls it: Singles Awareness Day. Yes, that's more important than the Winter Olympics. You have to look at the big picture: in 1000 years, global warming will have melted all the snow and ice and there will be no surface for which to base these sports. Sure, maybe ice rinks will be replaced with teflon, but this will cost a lot and it takes away from the essense of the sports--being cold. Watching the Winter Olympics wouldn't be half as satisfying if deep within me wasn't the knowledge that of those thousands of athletes and spectators, a lot of them are probably really cold. And that brings me joy as I sit with a blanket and pj's on, eating my Captain Crunch with berries or juggling honey packets. I can only assume that goes for you too.

But Valentine's Day--what's that all about? I wrote a piece on it last year regarding the history of it. Basically, I was bitter we didn't get school off for it, but that's not an issue for me this time. A recent poll from "Do you have someone to spend Valentine's with" found that 51% were partner deficient and at least 10% were in denial. So, if you're single like me, remember there's safety in numbers. Just because nobody will be buying you chocolates doesn't mean you don't deserve them. Go and buy some anyway. I did. Or, try organizing a rally. Maybe you can make tomorrow's headlines. Rallys are pretty cool and I'll Dragon punch anyone who thinks otherwise.

My enter key isn't working suddenly so this is going to be a big paragraph. nvmd. Speaking of sudden occurances, I aim to make the word "sudd" a word. I think it would fare well. Maybe it could be a relative of suds: those bubbly bits in your favorite beverages. The other word that should definitely become a "real" word (real meaning it's in the dictionary) is "noob." This word is universal in the gaming community as someone who is new/bad. On an English test, a foreign student put the word noob as the opposite of "pro" (instead of "con"). I vouche for this as a correct answer. I hope to see the day when people can call freshman noobs. That would be awesome. Anyway, I think I've made several punctuation errors and I don't know how to fix them. Maybe I'll submit them to Mr. Moore and have him correct them. Or maybe if there someone smart out there who noticed what I did wrong can tell me. That'd be cool. I need to take more Engrish classes so I can learn good. Peace and Merry Valentine's.

Oh, and if you are in dire need of ideas on what to do while single on Valentine's, I decided to make a list to help you out:

1.) Call up some of your other single friends and stand united in defiance of those who are trying to be happier than you.
2.) Go shopping and buy yourself things. Just because someone else won't be buying you valentine's gifts doesn't mean you shouldn't get them.
3.) Prank call your dating friends at around dinner time while they're out trying to have candle lit dinners.
4.) Try online dating to fix your situation.
5.) If you get responses, waste no time in rejecting them, so they too feel the icy hand of rejection. Remember, you're not trying to find an actual date: that's hard. You're just trying to make it through the day.
6.) Piss and moan all day. If you can't have a good time, make sure nobody else does either.
7.) Play video games all day. Life is still a poor substitute for video games.

Actually, I'm being sarcastic. This day needs to be ignored, but if someone thinks it's special, don't spoil their party. If this post seems Maddoxy, it's not because I'm actually bitter, it's because I'm bored and have to fabricate my own opinions about complex topics like Valentine's Day and the Winter Olympic games. Really, and this is fo' real, I'm only filled with a positive energy and bubbly perspective on life. It's like I'm a freshly opened bottle of sparkling grape juice: no one ever sees me and goes, "Crap. It's that sparkling grape juice." It's always optimistic like, "Hey! there's some sparkling grape juice. Maybe I should go and try some! I would enjoy the feeling of thousands of carbonated bubbles in my esophagus! And the grape taste is sweet and full of citric acid." Stay chipper, amigos!!!

2006-02-06T21:35:00.000-05:00

On Taking Life for Granted...

Go for days without a drink, and you would do anything for water.
A week without food and nothing looks better than a meal.
Stay up for two days and sleep is more necessary than a million dollars.
If you hiccup or sneeze constantly for days, you pray for nothing but its end.
Whatever your ailment, you're convinced once it is fixed you will be content.
But it never happens that way.
When you're full of food and drink, well rested and healthy, you get the feeling,
"this is how it's supposed to be--finally."
What else needs to be fixed? Mulled over? Worked on?
It puts things into perspective. I wonder if what I, you--we--want most in life
will be taken for granted once it becomes part of our life.
I wonder if this aspect of human nature is really all that much of a blessing or more akin to a curse.

2006-02-03T14:16:00.000-05:00

If I felt like writing a story about a Ninja, it would probably go something like this...

He knelt down to touch the soft soil. It had rained a couple nights ago, which meant the air still smelt fresh. He knew it couldn't be much further, but then again, he hadn't paid too much attention to his pace. Four days of travel only got you so far, and he hadn't made himself in a hurry about it. As long as he got the job done, what night it happened on didn't matter. Unsure of how much farther it was, he had keep alert for people on the trail. Nearing civilization could mean the unfortunate circumstance of people walking on it. In the pleasantly warm weather that came this time of year, there was plenty of leisure time for most people, which meant walks through the woods, and people looked with strange eyes upon single travelers. Talk of bandit attacks kept people worried and wary, so usually people didn't wander far, but children sometimes got caught up in adventuring. He would have to hate to put down some children if they saw him. For their sake and his own, he stepped off the trail and resumed his trek.

The trip was longer than he had expected by several hours and light was almost over when he thought he caught some voices. He stopped, checked his surrounding area, then squatted comfortably. He heard it again but it was not getting louder. They must be returning to their homes for the night, he thought. He was a fair distance off the trail and here was as quiet a place as any to camp for the night. He opened his knapsack beside him and ate what food he had with him. He had begun with food for four meals, and along with his hunting of small game each day, it had been plenty. Since a fire was out of the question tonight, he had to resort to his dry food: crackers, salted fish and several handfuls worth of rice. He regretted having no soy sauce for his rice or fish. It didn't do it any justice to eat it so bland like that. If he was hungrier he knew he wouldn't have cared about something like that, but as it was, he saw it fit to be displeased. His traveling had actually worked out quite well, he thought. If he really was within a few miles of the temple, he would have all day to check it out tomorrow and he could get the job done at night. Better to have arrived now and investigate in the light than arrive midday and be between rushing and waiting another full day, and he knew he wouldn't have leaned towards waiting another day. Five nights of travel made him anxious: no one to talk to all day and all night.

It was quite unusual. This wasn't even a job for one man. His master had intended to send three including him, but Master had picked Sun-ja Woo and O-lima Kamaguchi, both older and supposedly just as skilled. Master Wong had intended for them to patch up their differences on this trip and despite hearing his displeasure clear, Wong refused to send anyone else. "It's them or noone. If you are too stupid to accept people you need, then good luck. May the gods be merciful to you." He couldn't take their cockiness. He had fought them in training; it had been fierce and close, but they never let him forget that they were better. Something in their eyes made it clear that they felt he was inferior. Despite training harder than anyone else, it was like he would never be as good as them. It was just too maddening, and traveling for two weeks with the people he disliked most didn't appeal to him enough for him to take back his words during his temper. He wondered if he should have apologized and had their company. What if he really did need them? He tried to push those thoughts aside. There was no point to them now; he had chosen to go alone. He counted his heartbeats and soaked up the atmosphere until sleep called his name.

He awoke to the birds and realized light had descended upon the forest to fill the fauna with shadows interspersed with rays of the dusty white light that had filtered past the upper leaves of the branches many stories above. He felt quite rested, and excited about his final day. But first, he would have to catch himself some food. He laughed as he realized he had overlooked how he would catch something all the way up until now. He hadn't passed any ponds or streams to wait by all day yesterday, but he knew if there was a village, there must be at least a stream somewhere. So he forged ahead, knowing most of the villagers would be in the fields already. He trekked forward for under a mile before the first house and a clearing appeared. He soaked in the view: at least 30 houses were visible from his spot, most of them perched off the trail, and he spotted some workers hoeing and tilling the rice fields higher above him. The hill slanted to his right, where he figured most of the water could be found. Skirting civilization's view, he circled his way around until he first heard, then saw the stream several feet in width. After washing up and getting a much needed drink, he perched himself on a comfortable-looking branch, and waited.

An hour had passed before he sighted his prey: rabbit. The bunny hopped along at a curiously slow pace, pausing frustratingly often, but with a definite intention of reaching the stream. He was glad of his fortune. Rabbit was rather chewy but good nonetheless, and a single arrow would kill it quickly and easily, without the hassle of following a bloody trail. "Come on, little rabbit. Get your drink. Nobody is waiting to eat you! I'll even let you drink before you feel the sting of death piercing through you!" Patience came easily for he knew he would get his meat. He drew his arrow and notched it on the string. It was almost time. Suddenly, it was in a dash away from the stream, a fox sprinting forty feet behind. "Fool!" He cursed his luck as his meal ran out of range into the distance of the forest. Would it make it back to its hole to live another day? If it did it would have the fox to thank. Ironic. One thing was for sure, he wasn't going to be eating that rabbit. Perhaps now would be a good time to change spots. He pondered the question. Once he moved he would have to wait a while anyways, for motion always delayed visits to water. Animals were smart like that. He had a well-concealed spot, and comfortable enough. He decided to stay.

He was rewarded. The sun had barely moved when two squirrels scampered into sight. He had almost not noticed them for his lack of attention, but a twig had turned over and caught his ear. They were pretty far off and he questioned whether they would come nearer. If they didn't, he couldn't make the shot. The rodents took their drink quickly, only to begin a game of tag. Soon their zig-zagging led them near. He enjoyed their playful spirits. He almost didn't want to kill these particular creatures, but his stomach was growing emptier by the minute and he needed to have his full strength today. He readied his arrow for their next pause. One squirrel pounced on the other and as they began to wrestle each other, an arrow ripped through its stomach, pinning it to the ground. The second squirrel was gone in a second. He jumped out of his branch, gave his bones a much needed stretch, and ran to the site of the kill. The rodent still kicked futilely, resisting its inevitable death. He frowned at its size--not much meat there once you got the fur off it. A rabbit would have been better. He picked it up and snapped its neck to end its struggle, then went in search of wood.

After cooking his breakfast it was almost midday. He decided it was a good enough time to check out the target, and soon he was there. Immediately, he didn't like its position. It was too far away from the woods. Houses were a hundred yards off, but guards were everywhere. Watching them, he saw several passing in and out of the doors wrapped into their conversations. He tried to count them--four were on the porch, and two more by the door, and perhaps three had gone inside. Some might even be eating right now, so there might be two or three more at most, and he had no idea how many were inside, but since it included a school for calligraphy, he guessed quite a lot--too many for one night of killing. There were too many to make this assassination easy on him. He wondered if there was a meeting going on, for there were more guards about than he would have guessed for this sort of place. Maybe another day would be better? No, he didn't feel like waiting another day in the forest, hunting small game alone. Once this was over with, he still had to go all the way back. It was a long time to go without talking to a person as it was, and there was no indication that tomorrow or any day after that would be better. Even if some people were visiting, the weather might change. Today would be rain free, which meant quiet and quick footsteps. No, he wouldn't wait.

After observing what little there was to be observed, he decided to get more food. He was still frustrated about the rabbit, and one squirrel was a poor substitute. He was still hungry, and without being able to enter society without arousing a suspicious eye, he looked upon his task without relish. No. Screw that. He would pay an empty farmer's home a visit. In and out. It would be much easier that way.

It was like he had thought: easy. He sat back down in the forest against a tree and opened his knapsack full of goodies. He had taken discreet, unnoticeable amounts of rice, and a couple pounds of pork, the plate of which he had set on the floor to make it appear that someone's dog had gotten into it. That dog would get a beating for sure and perhaps a neighborly quarrel would result. Regardless, he stuffed himself happy, had a nap, then decided he'd watch the flow of people until night.

He had watched for hours and he still wasn't sure how many there were. He was too far away to recognize faces, so it only got confusing when he tried to remember if he had counted them already or not. The important thing was that he knew his target would be sleeping inside one of the center rooms tonight, probably near a terrace, which meant easy access from the roof.

The tree across from him was chopped free of bark from the hundreds of ninja star throws it had taken, and two thin bamboo trees had been chopped clean in half in his boredom. He peeled out his blade to feel the coolness of handcrafted steel; one of the finest blades a man could make, he had inherited it from one of his first big targets and never liked the feel of another sword as much as this. He would use it tonight, even if he didn't need it. Then he checked his dagger: a two-sided, six-inch, carefully balanced throwing dagger. He could throw it accurately farther than anyone Master Wong had known, but for him, he intended it entirely for slitting throats, for he had grown attached to this baby over the last year. His bow was another finely crafted weapon. Built for medium-range targets, he found its arrows delivered smoothly with an almost magical consistency. He had taken care of it well, and in turn it had favored him with perfect shots. With twenty arrows in his quill, he felt confident they were more than enough. One arrow usually meant one death, but two made it faster. And his six throwing stars. They were rather weighty individually, but they were balanced well and deadly. Down a hall or across a room, they came quicker and more silent than the actual death itself, and that was saying something.
He was ready to kill. He had trained hard and he had some experience, but he still found himself nervous.

One group in the distance was gathered around a table, possibly playing a card game. Their laughter carried across the air to meet him on the edge of the forest. He would probably have to kill them tonight. It was a shame. He didn't have anything against them personally, but they were there to protect someone he meant to kill. They would fight back and try to kill him if he let them. They were trained too. Most importantly, there were a lot of them. Each person he killed meant one less alarm, one less pair of eyes to point him out, and more chance he would live through the night. He would do a lot to make sure someone he didn't care about didn't end up with his death. The good thing about being an assassin was there was always work to do. You could go killing every day of your life and still there would be more people to kill. These men--they had the advantage of numbers, a building for protection, and they knew the terrain. He had surprise and not much else. Stealth. One on one he could take them all out, but not if there were arrows flying his way, and not if they caught him on horses. "This would have been so much easier with Sun-ja and O-lima here" he admitted as an afterthought. He probably could have used their thinking and planning too. They were more precise. Then again, they would probably stay here and wait another couple days until they knew everything they wanted to know, and that would have only pissed him off. He was ready and he didn't need their help. People are killed easily, especially when you have the right help, and he was strapped full with all the help he would need.

The sun finally dipped behind the horizon. He pulled out his knapsack and had some more pork and rice. Not too much though, he wanted to stay light on his feet. He questioned whether he should nap, for it would be another several hours yet. He lay back to rest but knew sleep was impossible right now. People had slipped inside their homes for the night, and candles lit the windows of the village all across the hillside. They had no idea what was going to happen.

Now was the hardest time--deciding when to move, or rather, waiting to move. He waited until darkness had engulfed everything while the cool breeze did nothing to slow his heartbeat, which seemed only to beat faster as the hours progressed. He waited until the stars left the air with a bitingly fresh feeling to it, and clouds gathered around what little was to be seen of the moon. He waited until crickets began their nightly ritual, and bullfrogs croaked their presence to the females. He waited until birds had returned to their nests and the furry critters had nestled themself in their holes, while others stirred to begin the night. It was time.

2006-02-03T13:59:00.000-05:00

I found a sweet site called badninjas.com. It consists of single pane comics with one liners about what bad ninjas do. Examples include, "bad ninjas wave hello," "bad ninjas have cats," and "bad ninjas get stuck in lava." It's pretty funny. Since you're reading this you obviously have nothing better to do so...go there!

2006-01-31T22:11:00.000-05:00

Night-time thoughts surround me--swirling, they envelop me...shifting, changing, changing, jumping, dancing too! Broken free from their cage in my brain, they think of what they want. Uncontrolled, uncontained, they terrorize those who witness, for in the morning they'll be gone: a memory of when they reigned. But now, they swirl in glittering mist like sunlight dashing through a fountainous spray, radiating rainbowy brilliance as a smiling child runs through it, hands raised before him to catch, then to feel, as he bounces them to his cheeks and tastes the rainbow with his teeth. It's disappointing how writing frightens it away. It is as if it is saying, "I'm here, gloriously, powerfully, but do not try to capture me. The pen is too slow, can't you see?" And it laughs. It laughs -- not cynically, but with mirth. I stop to enjoy it. "Come back to me!" I beckon and hesitantly it returns. Perhaps this time when I write it will stay. I draw out my pen and begin--passionately! Perversely. Despite its play it notices and withdraws in a flash. Blinded, I must stop. Even the dozen thoughts lined up and ready for paper have scattered. I'm at a loss. Frustration. It is always like this and I want it to change. So, I wait for another day. I wait for another night when dazzling thoughts decide to break free from their jail and overrun us. But it must wait. I must wait. The thoughts are not mine; they are their own.

2006-01-30T22:01:00.000-05:00

It's tough being a Pirate these days.

Q: Your super power is that you smell like dandelions whenever someone lies. How do you conceal your secret identity?
A: I'd kill myself for smelling like dandelions all day long.

Note:
Eating soap so that you can blow bubbles with your spit, though it may seem like a good idea in your head, is not as good as it sounds.

It should be a law that drinking is legal in New York State for all ages so I don't have to go to Canada to drink legally. Even though I very rarely drink, I support this because it would make all the other states jealous.

I also think that Lady Liberty should be holding a large cold Killian's or Corona instead of a torch. Beer is welcoming whereas torches are for a warning, as in: "Stay back! Back, I say!" Or is that the real message we're trying to give?

I decided today that speed limits aught to be changed on a day to day basis according to the weather and conditions. 30 mph is totally unnecessary when there are no people walking and the streets are clear. I like to follow the rule of thumb of multiplying all speed "limits" 1.5 times. My physics teacher once told us his brother would sometimes double all the speed limits around corners, but I'm into safety. Also, running over children under the age of five should not have a penalty.

1.) They should have been watched closer by their guardian (parents and such).
2.) They are stupid and whine and cry for no reason.
3.) Their parents are still young and have time to replace him/her with another kid.

I know you want to learn facts about Chuck Norris so badly it hurts!!

Some people have said my mom looks Chinese, but I think that's just because she's short and has black hair. And I guess she squints her eyes sometimes. And she has a Chinese accent.

2006-01-29T19:07:00.000-05:00

If you are reading this, you have stumbled across the thoughts and thinky-do's of Casey. I have been away for a while, a month and thirteen days by my count. At least one person began to suspect I had died of eating too much cabbage in a sitting or trying to juggle proximity mines. This is not the case. Kate, I am both living and breathing, so you can calm your morbid thoughts.
What have I been doing? You aren't asking this question, but I'll pretend that you are. Aside from my usual capers around town, not much. I'm still at home right now because I didn't go back to the University at Buffalo. I didn't go back because I needed more time to solve my Rubik's cube. That thing is seriously hard. Even though I can tell the colors apart, the challenge is getting them to line up on the same side. I can get a side or two, but then the chaos begins. I hope you understand.

On the plus side, I won't be bitching about how stupid my classes are. On the negative side, people are beginning to doubt my skills. My friends are like, "are you ever going to get a degree?" Chill, homies. I'll handle this crap. I figure I've still got another two years until I'm able to purchase alcohol without the hassle of fake ID's, and then I can start getting my act together and focus on something productive, like research management, or how to glue my elbows together.

Since I haven't been able to play Halo or go online since my parents have a connection involving a dial-tone, I've read a bunch of books so cool you could read them and finish and be happy you read it. My mom can't read. I asked her why one day, and she said it was because her eyelids got really heavy whenever she tried to, and then she couldn't continue anymore. My first thought was that she was reading boring books, or that the words were too hard for her. Then, I remembered that she reads books with titles like: "Aroma Therapy: How to Go to Sleep with Candles," "The Wayne Norton Guide to Success," and "The Power of Positive Thinking." Despite its claims, its power was not enough to keep her awake. She has a book collection with a couple dozen books, none of them finished. I think she needs to get her act together and read Harry Potter, cover to cover, like everyone else. I, on the other hand, have read a bunch of neat books you should read including: The Andromeda Strain, Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus, Lord of the Flies, and The Perks of Being a Wallflower. For more of my favorites click here.

The facebook is getting on my nerves again. In accordance with the law, I will bitch about it. I hadn't been on in a month or two, I check it and suddenly I've got friends who want me to confirm how I knew them. There's this whole schpiel of "Friend Detail Request" things to check to acknowledge how I know them. It's getting too personal. I will not waste my time telling people I don't know how I know people they don't know. If I know them, it is enough. The thing that actually irks me about it is that I can't, or haven't discovered how to, deny them their request. All requests should be able to be denied. But my only options are to Confirm, Edit, or Reply....WHERE'S MY FREAKIN' DENY BUTTON!? They're piling up and I refuse to confirm or refute such allegations. This only adds to my image of facebook as a time consuming, pointless, stalker breeding site of doom and founder of ill-begotten hatred. If I am not appeased soon, I will seek help from the IRS or FBI. They owe me.

This also made my day today, aside from my trip to Alfred to see my Peeps (they were stale: but still full of sugary goodness):

With America losing The War on Drugs, Terror and even Christmas, it's nice to see we're winning The War on something: our environment.

Global warming is increasing, the oil reserves are drying up, and we lose another endangered species every five minutes. I could not be happier. Destroying the environment is good.

Let me put it another way. Let's say Jessica Alba's ass is the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. Sure it looks perfect and pristine. But honestly, how much better would it look if someone was tapping it, am I right?

Haha. Okay, that's enough. Settle down. I know it was hilarious. Now that I've filled another minute or two of your life with joy, go do something with yourself. I recommend joining my friend James' new dance company, which I have forever dubbed "Dancing With James." It should be a good time for all, especially if you're not participating.

--Peace.

2005-12-16T15:48:00.000-05:00

I'm so pro-Pirates it's hardcore. I don't understand why ever became popular (in profiles). Someone needs to put a stop to this.

I would be the lazy guy with a beard.

Initially at least, it's a toss up. People are gunna definitely split on this one. I think most girls would choose the left one because they'd want someone to talk to. For guys...talking isn't as important. (Well, maybe on a deserted island it is...but in real life this is true.) After many minutes of thinking it over, I would go with the one on the left. I don't know how annoying she is, but I'd take my chances that she wouldn't be that annoying. With the one on the right, you know exactly what you're getting (like walks on the beach...among other things). But this picture has the fish saying "fwap fwap." I imagine I'd get tired of this quickly, and when I told it to shut up, its fish brain wouldn't understand. Also, children of this reverse mermaid would be pretty retarded, and not large enough for a good Friday night fish fry.

This makes me laugh inside.

I did not know this. I like how it says, "Chinese Folk."

Are you serious? This guy can style

--------------------------------------------------

It's Friday and I've finished everything school related. Time for Christmas related stuff. I won't be updating much for a while, mainly because I'm not online much at home (I actually do stuff).

I'll leave you with a few of my thoughts:

I think it's really cool that we're mortal. It would suck to live forever. I think everything's more important-seeming when we know that sometime it's going to be over. I'm greatful knowing that if it got too bad, I have the power to end it, and we have the power to end it for others. Were we born on this earth knowing we'd be here forever, nothing we did would seem important. We wouldn't accomplish as much in a given amount of time because we'd feel no pressure. The more time we think we have, the more we'll feel free to use it--squander it. If we feel a constant time pressure, we're going to respond and do as much in it as we can. For this reason, setting a due date on our life is good and productive. In fact, if we were to reduce the expected lifespan of people, we might become more productive as a society and as individuals, provided we all accepted that we would die sooner.

I think for all of us there is a desire for a legacy. We all want to be remembered. This is pointless, really, for once we're dead, we won't care. But when we're alive, we care about when we're dead and we want ourselves to go on through others. Partly because of this, we have children and teach them to respect and remember their elders. It's a sense of importance. We all want to be the big fish in the little pond, ignoring the fact that we're a guppy in the ocean on a planet in a solar system in a galaxy. It's kind of neat how similar we all are, in terms of these petty desires and needs. No matter how different we think we are from different cultures around the globe, people are all pretty much the same. If we were born in their shoes, we would turn out living their life as they live it.

Until next time...

Peace

2005-12-16T00:52:00.000-05:00

Link time! It's Friday finally, the last day of the week. I've got myself a test after a group of hours I should study for, but that doesn't mean I didn't find a bunch of worthy media files for you to watch.

First up is this guy. He's my hero. Anyone who dresses up as a ninja and acts just like a ninja rules.

Next up is the best way to meet ladies, in my opinion.

This song should go national. There's a few funny lines I'm sure more than a few people will laugh at.

This guy is actually/was pretty cool. He's an exception to the average soldier who was in Iraq. I especially like his last words, "Don't shoot damn it! I'm Pat Tillman!" It makes me want to say some really great stuff so that they can quote me when I die, and/or possibly accomplish some stuff in this life.

This is a great prank. I wish I could do something like that. If the opportunity arises, I'm going to start pranking people. All I need is some accomplices, for my life has been vastly underfilled with prankings.

Car crashes are just fun to watch. I just saved myself hundreds of hours worth of Nascar-like television by cutting to the good parts.

And what's up with this thing. Einstein? I'm totally way smarter than that bird, but nobody calls me Einstein. I think it's a disgrace to a genius' name, but the bird is still pretty cool.

I suppose I'd best shower and get to studying now.

2005-12-13T22:11:00.000-05:00

It's time for me to be an asshole again.

I've received a lot of spam and personally addressed emails, as well as shit in people's profiles telling me to think about the troops in Iraq. They want me to think and pray for them. Well I ain't praying for nobody, and I'm certainly not going to think of them. That's gay. I'm don't think about anybody unless I want to, and nobody's going to tell me otherwise.

Why is it they get all this special treatment? Is it because they are suffering and going through hard times? Maybe I am too, but we don't see anybody putting up a bumper sticker on their car that says, "support Casey Perhamus" now do we? They're over publicized and over-hyped. My thoughts have to be saved for thinking about my friends and family, not people I don't even know.

I'm totally fine if someone you know is fighting and you're praying and thinking of them all the time, but you need to know your boundaries. Your boundary ends when you start telling me what to do. You're not the boss of me. Get in line. Wait...

Soldiers understand when they sign up for the marines and fly over to go fight that some people are going to die and get injured. They weight their options. Most of them are like, "shit, I got no money, and I'm not going to college...I should go train to kill people." There are always risks and consequences in any job. Maybe you should just think of their deaths as them getting an "F" in Bullet Dodging and Tactical Planning. We've got way better military technology and force than our enemies, so what's the big deal?

So let's say I do think and pray for them. Now what? Do I get a cookie? No? I guess I can just sit on my thumbs then.

You know, before the war, there wasn't all this publicity and people profitting from selling those bumper stickers. But people feel like they're behaving good when they slap one on their car, like they've done their part. You know, if I owe stuff to people, they're pretty much all dead, and I would've done the same thing in their situation. As for this war, it's unnecessary and a drain on our economy. They're getting paid to do their job. So is every other American worker, a lot of whom we rely on a lot harder as a society. We need policemen, grocery store workers, firemen and bank tellers. They affect my life in a direct way I can see. I prefer to salute them for their efforts in their workplace, and if they die whether it be from cancer or suicide or AIDS or glaucoma, I dearly hope they are replaced very quickly, because I don't feel like getting robbed by Joe Dirtbag.

Don't fall for the media hype about our military. You're only hurting yourself. If you see a soldier when he's returned, you can still tell him that he's been in your prayers every day. It's a white lie, like telling your wife she doesn't look fat in those jeans; everybody wins.

That's all I've got to say about that.

Oh, and I just ate a pound of applesauce.

2005-12-12T19:02:00.000-05:00

This is a summary of this post.
Worthless post. Don't read this if you're bored, because this isn't your medicine. Most of my other posts aren't this garbage, so take a trip there if you wish. School's over. I guess that's a good thing. I have one more test on Friday, but nothing to do until then. I want to visit friends in Alfred but that's probably not going to work out because I don't have a car here, and my ride isn't free until Friday which is too late. I just woke up and I went to bed at 9am. This sucks because I'm hungry and the only food I can get is in a vending machine. Why must eateries conform to be open at all the same hours? I should have food to make myself, but I don't. I guess my breakfast is going to be five poptarts, strawberry and cinnamon, because that's all there is. It's going to cost five dollars. What a rip-off. I like to do odd things sometimes when I think nobody's looking. Yesterday I was hopping on one foot in a circle chanting something about how delicious pizza is while waiting for the elevator. And someone walked by. The only thing to do is stop immediately and act like nothing happened. They kinda look at you funny, but whatev. I miss playing with krakerjaxx in Halo. He was very funny and he played all the time, but now he's changed his gamertag so I must look him up. I did party up with some very humorous people and got many laughs though. It's strange what some people do. This one kid on my team was killing himself, which would make us lose, unless we followed his demands. His demands were that we all sing. If we stopped he killed himself. Sing anything: a song, freestyle, or just beatbox. We all gave in to his demands, because we wanted to win, and we did win. That kid has issues. My life is easy but it sucks right now. The very fact that I'm writing about me doing nothing is proof alone. I haven't read a good book in a long time. Instead I just read random shit on the internet. I hope computer screen light isn't bad for my eyes. If it is, I hope one of my eyes is stronger than the other, so I get to wear a cool eye patch. Thank god for my friends at home. I miss them. I miss Thies and Keith and Neal and Gagne and Ben, and all the people I see when I see them. People hang out in clusters. Clusters of coolness. They stick together. It's nice, if you find someone cool, because they have friends that are cool. Then there's the rest of the world in between the clusters, or worthless clusters of people you don't want to associate with. That's where I'm at in Buffalo. I'm friendly and all, but I'm not going to be friends with these kids. People here offer me drugs. Weed and aderol and alcohol mostly, but my roommate has access to others. How generous of him to offer me drugs for free! He's just looking to make another sale after I've tried it. Some kid walked in our room yesterday and started talking with my roommate A and I. I thought he knew my roommate but he didn't. When he left he just went next door, and he didnt' know them either. My neighbor said he just walked in and opened his closet and started looking through his clothes when he saw him and was like, "what are you doing?" The stranger contrived some story about how he used to live there and wanted to see the changes. I don't even think that kid was on drugs at the time. He was just weird. My mouth is dry. I desire hot chocolate or Sierra Mist. Good luck on your exams if you have them. Peace.
I just taught myself a little code. It's fun! Do you like the changes? I remembered what my old blog was. There's a solid five hours worth of reading there. Something like 80 posts. It's very different from this one in that I wrote in it every day about myself. Some of it is worthy.

2005-12-10T16:56:00.000-05:00

How to make a barber mad and possibly get a free hair cut:

First, ask for the nicest barber. Say skill doesn't matter as long as they are a nice person, and that you'll wait until they are free.

Second, be very vague about your description of what you want. Say yes to however the barber suggests.

When getting your hair cut, don't look. Say that it'll ruin the surprise if you watch.

When it's all done and she says, "how's that?" open your eyes and go, "NO! omg what did you do!? Alright, just shave it off. I don't want to look at it anymore. I might as well have no hair at all." Convince her this is what you want.

When she takes the buzzer out and first shaves off a patch of hair, exclaim, "what are you doing? I was just kidding! You were really going to shave off my hair?"

By now she'll be angry or confused or baffled/exasperated. When she expresses herself, just say, "I'm just kidding, continue."

When you finally have no hair, act utterly disappointed. Say that you wouldn't have to look this way if she hadn't screwed it up so bad the first time. Also, say you're never coming back here again, and pay them while sticking out your tongue at the cashier. Then give them a hug and thank them very much.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

When I read something funny, at first I laugh. I may laugh hysterically or just moderately and briefly. Then I get depressed because I think: if there are people out there this funny, it makes me less funny by comparison, and I lose self-esteem.

Caitlin told me that I was not Maddox one time, and it was true. The trueness that was that statement awed me. In essence, things are only funny when said by certain people, people that seem like they would say it. Thus, when my friend Nick has very low standards about women and his catch phrase is, "I'd do her," it's funny. Or when someone is very proud of himself and exploits it...likewise. I need to find what I'm good at and push it.

Sometimes I look at my tummy and question it. Like, "how do you stay so tone when I don't do anything to you?" It must be my only good gene. Based on my current exercise regime, I should be fat or at least have a beer belly. Maybe I need to drink more beer.

A very relaxing day for me is one where I listen to music all day. I love the songs on the montages at halopro.com. I have 7.25 gigs worth of them on my computer, and that's after I deleted the unworthy ones. Montages combine the two things I love most in life: halo and music. I think that's why I love to watch them. And they're funny.

Roommate A is doing his homework problems on a paper towel roll. He seriously just rolls it down to move on and it extends on down to the floor. I told him he's stupid but he still feels justified. Then again, he cooks all his meals himself. And by cooks, I mean microwaves. Sometimes he tries to juggle his soccer ball inside our small room and of course it hits stuff like lamps and my computer and me. Sometimes I uppercut him. It all works out in the end.

I sleep at really odd hours. Sometimes I am concious when my roommates talk. Roommate C always talks on the phone with his drug buddies and tells stories about his previous night partying. That is how I learn about him: in my sleep. He does about a million drugs. I tried to count them one time but I got high off his clothes that smell like marajuana and lost count. He deals marajuana successfully right from our room, so we get the sketchiest looking, puffy coat wearing white boys to hit the Buffalo streets in here. And even though he's so sketchy and speaks like a ghettoed-out retard, he still fixes time to write papers and study for hours on aderol. I'm impressed.

I used to have a kid in my English class who had all these worthless but interesting facts in his head bursting daily into our classroom air. He had long hair, a huge (note: HUGE) beard, radical ideas, a really low voice, a humorous take on life and he was very intelligent. This would have made him cool, except he also had long fingernails (I noticed one day as he was gesturing with his hands). One day I sat nearby him by accident and discovered he smelled bad too. That's two strikes, "you're out!" Anyway, one day one of his worthless stats was that people are something like 90% more likely to laugh when in the company of others. It makes sense because we laugh at what is odd and striking to our expectations so if we're only getting ideas from our head they are what we're used to hearing. I think I am an exception to this rule. I laugh by myself wayyy more than most people. I kind of weird myself out when I analyze it. I am blessed in that I recall funny things easily. Also, I'm easily amused, so that helps. I think I appreciate the things my "self" thinks of more than most.

In sum, I am happy to be me sometimes. Yayyyy!!

2005-12-09T10:20:00.000-05:00

I always end up staying up all night until my 8am class, with intent to go back to sleep. But sometimes that doesn't happen and I end up being awake. This is stupid.

I've had a headache for the last week or so. It won't go away. I got it last Thursday I believe. I thought it was from sleep deprivation, or possibly dehydration, but I woke up with my headache revived and it keeps coming back off and on. I think it's from lack of vitamins; I don't eat vegetables unless it's by pure chance.

I went to wash my hands tonight, and when I pushed the soap squirter button, it missed my hands and landed on my shoe. I didn't see how it happened, but I was very ashamed.

I encountered a girl while playing Halo2 a few hours ago. At least she claimed to be one. She was commenting on my gamertag and how incorrect it was, (mine is Male Dominance). She said, "it should be female dominance because females are better....the only thing guys are good for is sex." Little kids sound like girls all the time, and are constantly told so (as is the trash talking custom), so I had been pretty sure up until that point that I had been talking to a little prepubecent kid. I tried to haggle out the truth from her/it, but she maintained that she was indeed a female even though she was playing Halo2. This throws off everything I ever knew about video games and how females don't play them. I could go on about how girls don't play first person shooters because they suck at them, and they don't have the testosterone to appreciate the thrill of killing, but I think it mostly has to do with how nerdy males, with their abused anonyminity, say the most offensive things in the spirit of self-amusement. Over a year ago, when the game began, girls on Halo2 did exist but they were harassed unmercifully with constant sex banter. If I were female, I would soon tire of this child's play too. Now, they are as extinct as the dinosaurs...except they are (I've just discovered) wanton to reappear just to prove me wrong. Before this, I hadn't heard of one in months. Doubleyou-Tea -eff, mates.

Important to note:
I will eat your soul...when you aren't looking.

2005-12-08T17:03:00.000-05:00

Ugh...

Finals suck ass.

That's all I got to say.

2005-12-06T20:34:00.000-05:00

What's wrong with this picture? (it is a Japanese Condom Ad)

1.) since when does Koala Bears wearing hard helmets signify safe sex?
2.) Why does the condom look like a cannon on wheels?

3.) The Koalas are having sex.

4.) They are wearing specially designed "ears poke through" hard helmets
5.) Koalas don't need to practice safe sex.
6.) The words "2 PIECES" are in English.
7.) Where are the Koala noses?
8.) The Japanese lettering says "Holla at ya, boy!"

I like to ride my camel too. It is our most economical model.

I'd just like to let everyone know that this is my girlfriend. Isn't she nice? I like her for her....personality.

Okay. Actually that's not true. Keith was cheering me up, but it made me think, instead...

Most people would be glad to be that good looking, but the truth is, anyone who you thought was your friend probably wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything other than trying to get with you (even the females). Friendship would be a facade. People would smile next to you like you were a prize to be won. If you wanted to be a person, this could be bad. So the next time you see a gorgeous model, pity them, for they will never have any true friends.

Ever.

Except for me. *ahem*

The problem is, being hot pretty much automatically makes you socially inept. If there was a magical thing that turned women into stuck up bitches, it would be the hotness gene. I'm reminded of the conversation I had with Josh about the dream lady--the Late Bloomer. This is the situation where a girl goes through high school normal, so she develops a good personality, without the side affects of being pretty, then she develops looks. This way she has learned to cope with the world without manipulating people and receiving special treatment. So theoretically, somewhere out there are girls with the best of both worlds, the trick is finding them.

2005-12-05T11:56:00.000-05:00

Men are from Mars, Women Aren't

Here's a prime example of "Men Are from Mars, Women Are From Venus" offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix:

The professor told his class one day: "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story.The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students: Rebecca and Gary.
-------------------------------------------
THE STORY:

(first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(second paragraph by Gary)

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4."Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary)

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live.Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary)

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--KING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air-headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"

(Rebecca)

Asshole.

(Gary)

Bitch

(Rebecca)

F__K YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!

(Gary)

Go drink some tea - whore.

(TEACHER)

*A+ - I really liked this one.*

2005-12-05T10:44:00.000-05:00

Merry Friggin' Christmas, Bitches!

A lot people have relationship problems at some point. They mope/are down because of a girl or guy that dumped them, for whatever reason, and they inevitably feel worthless and that they will never find that special someone (the goal?). I don't have that problem because I have no relationships. I can go about my business chipper as a piece of wood, not getting hurt--not experiencing the relationship pain of others my age. But what happens when I do think I have someone finally and then get burned? Will I be way worse than everyone else? Is one hard blow, when relied upon, worse than several? Having thought of this, I take into account and expect that I am going to get pwned one day by a relationship. Take that you stupid bitch. Hurt my feelings will you? Well I saw it coming, so there. If you were a ferret, I would spin you around by your tail at a high velocity then let go. That way, you'd know how I feel.

<---The Ogrefish can be found 16,000 feet below sea level, probably to avoid getting hurt from relationships. He is pissed because he's under a lot of pressure.

2005-12-04T19:32:00.000-05:00

Hey all. Here's an update post until I get things sorted out.

First, sorry about that large retarded space by the Links. I can't seem to get rid of it yet. Still workin' on that, along with my mental handicaps.

In other news, I've reached over 1000 hits on my page today. Now, some of you may think that I live for the excitement of seeing my hit counter go up each day and that I poop my pants when I get a good score. That's not true. I only wet myself a little.

So, if you want to make me happy, just click refresh like a hundred times. Feel pleased knowing I'll go, "holy crap!" at least once, and think I'm really special.

I accidentally came across this picture which was this girl talking about her baby and the responsibilities involved. I told her there aren't responsibilities in taking care of a plastic baby and it looked like Cabbage Patch Kid. Seriously, she can't trick me into thinking that baby is real. I know a plastic doll when I see it.

This is a real product for a real purpose.

This is my favorite breakfast cereal.

I told you I liked Lindsay Lohan. Lindsay, if you are reading this, I want to get together. I mean, Emma Watson is hot too, but she's not legal for kidnapping yet. Either way, Whoreminee is pretty nice.

And of course, Will Farrell continues his excellent acting as George W.

2005-12-03T20:14:00.000-05:00

I like talking to people, but I usually don't start conversations. I think this arose way back when I started IMing this girl and didn't catch on that she didn't like me. So I was all like talkin' it up and stuff, right? Then I realized one day she never was initializing our conversations. I asked myself, why? Why wouldn't she want to talk to someone as awesome and powerful as me? I mean, I pwn noobs at Halo2 and stuff, so real life has to be like that too I figured. I mean, I own at everything I do, so I figured I might as well go out an' own some girls. This one conversation was like this, different girl though: (she IMs me)

"hey!"
"oh, I haven't talked to you in like a year...you want to have sex?"
"[yada yada]....I'd love to!"

so I totally won that battle and owned her. But then she wanted to keep playing me but I was like, "I've gotta play other people that are better than you and own them, you know?" She didn't like that very much.

Then there was this other girl. She Imed me one day because she liked my picture on facebook, which was of a surfer owning some huge wave like it was a n00b! and it wasn't actually me but she didn't know that. So she was like, "hey" and stuff and we talked for a couple hours. This was May before school let out. Then I never talked to her until a couple days ago when she Imed me with "can I ask you a personal question?" I'm so confused because I thought we were over and now she wants to get personal with me? So I think "ok, it's not like I can get owned by a surprise attack because it's just a girl" and she asks and we get talking for ten minutes or so, just basic stuff like I would say to my step-brother or cousin-in-law. Suddenly, she asks if I know who's talking to her, she direct connects me and sends me a picture. I'm like, "yeah, I remember." I'm talking to a couple other people and five minutes pass until suddenly I think, "wait, she was in her bra in that picture. In fact, she was very much almost naked." I don't know what to say, so I babble stuff like, "oh, I just noticed you're in your bra...this will be useful." She freaks at my comment ("what do you mean by THAT!!"), I panic but I respond by saying "what? what do you mean? I don't remember saying that." I totally pulled it off. I like it when that stuff happens.

Stuff like this happens ALL the time. I mean, I can't blame them, can you? Just look at how awesome my Pirate self-portrait drawing is. If I was a girl I would totally want to hit up that artist too. And just for the ladies, I'll even throw in five extra-credit facts about myself that you can't learn anywhere else (even from the internet!)

1.) I wear shades after I pull all-nighters
2.) I don't have red hair
3.) I've never made out with a midget
4.) I can do more pushups than situps
5.) Unlike monkeys, I don't have an opposable toe on my feet.

The moral of the story is: I like getting random Ims from people I don't know, especially since the type of people to send them are usually interesting. Average Jane or Joe don't pull shit like that because they're just too average. Also, I've found my most favorite hobby is saying whatever comes into my mind. I really like what my brain comes up with and I find it very amusing usually. Also, other people laugh at what I say, so it's like a double-edged sword, in a good way, where nobody dies unless they're both they enemy, in which case everybody wins still. My computer screen just becomes an oasis of positive energy and I let it surround me until I've got such high spirit that I don't need to do anything to keep in good health, but maybe some exercise wouldn't hurt. So Im me at cpjunkie6. Don't make fun of the name, I made it in like 9th grade to replace Mankindsbesthope, because apparently some people thought that was too vain. So yeah, party on.

2005-12-02T22:36:00.000-05:00

Let it be known that at 10:26 I am officially GONE. And I did it the good old fashioned way, the only way monkeys know how: without alcohol. That's right, I haven't slept to an intense degree for an extremely long amount of time. Sleep deprivation has all the syptoms of alcohol abuse including: loss of coordination, slurred speech, headaches, hyperactivity, increased euphoria, need for sleep, doing stupid things, saying stupid things, and diarrhea (cha cha cha!). Actually I'm not suffering from diarrea, that was a complete fabrication. So yeah, I feel sickly tired with a racing heartbeat but also hyper and ready to do crazy shit, and I'm saying crazy things. Or maybe just ordinary things and finding them hysterical. I vote for the latter. In terms of strange activities, I'm not only on Facebook and rewrote my info, but I'm writing on lots of walls like a grafitti crazed teenager. I also noticed I said, "poked, BITCH" while poking anna and I've begun to laugh needlessly yet extensively. I intend to stay up for a record amount of time, meaning until I collapse and die, because I don't know where that point is. Best of all, I'm doing it without the aid of caffeine, because caffeine makes you crash. On my side, I do have some really stale pizza within reach. This may be the last you'll hear from me, 'cause I'm out to break a record. So far I'm at 34 hours without sleep. I'll update when I can stand it no longer and lose my determination. I'll try for 50 hours. Oh, and you'll still get your midnight post if you want. Tell me how much you love me in a comment! Or tell me you hate me and when you read my posts they make you want to jump out of windows with your hands stapled to some bedsheets. Anything in between is unacceptable. Peace out.

Update:

I lived. I lasted until 5am, which makes it 41 hours of awakedom. Here are the minutes:

11:30- stopped being silly
11:54- sneezing
12:43- yawning, some chest pain
1:11- shower, nearly dozed
1:40- this is brutal, eye lids hurt
2:10- was watching tv standing up
2:21- sleep would come really easily
2:45- eyes heavy, very very tired
3:04- this sucks badd
3:32- kind of waking up a little again
3:50- convincing myself I had sleep last night and I'm fine
4:47- back hurts, neck hurts-this is pretty stupid
4:59- this is stupid, I need money for this shit, it's not fun

2005-12-02T00:22:00.000-05:00

The White Stripes were playing on The Daily Show with Jon Stuart as his first band, and I have to say, "not a bad choice."

Jack and Meg have been nominated for 4 Grammys, including Album of the Year, Best Alternative Album, Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group with vocal and Best Rock Song (Seven Nation Army). I'd also like to personally nominate them for Worst Designed Website on the Internet for WhiteStripes.com. Trying to navigate through it and read their news, I was filled with temptation to throw my computer monitor off my desk and across the room. If you're masochistic, go there now. If you were click happy and not masochistic, I'm sorry. Now let's get to why you're here: to read about my opinion of them.

The female in this duo has no drumming skills at all. In every song, she has one drum stick in each hand and beats a drum about once every second or two. She's not capable of a drum roll. No musical talent whatsoever. In the above picture, it's like Jack is saying, "What the fuck? Why is she here?"

Jack on the other hand, kicks ass. He's like a combination of Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka and Leonardo DiCaprio. His look is everything I want in a musician. He can play the guitar like a mofo, and I caught him playing a keyboard and a piano at the same time (one hand on each) while singing. On top of the piano, he also had a mirror, so he could look at himself while singing. Awesome. I can respect a man that plays music while looking at himself.

<---Once again, Jack prefers not to look at Meg, but shoot her in the back with his hand. Props for the top hat.

So Meg can't play an instrument, and she's not good looking either. It's only through Jack's amazing musical talent that this group exists at all, and intensely in the music community at that. More props to Jack.

Jack said he didn't want to look at her anymore and she couldn't play the drums, and crying ensued. Or was it because of that large paddle?

The existence of this group is proof that if you have one talented musician/performer, a strong beat is necessary, but anyone will do. I respect him for not dropping his girlfriend at the time when his music career was launching, and instead handed her some drum sticks.

Their music videos are cool and worth checking out as well. I gained a little respect for Meg when I saw their music video, Blue Orchid, in which she crawls under a horse and attempts to thrust her way towards its male organ, and soon after is seen eating a tube of toothpaste. I only wish that more musical groups could see the light, as the White Stripes have, and follow their lead.

In "We're Going to be Friends," I love how has his wife just lies on the couch for the whole video. I'd have to say the highlight of the video was either when he shifted positions while playing guitar, or when he glanced over to make sure she hadn't moved. I'm pretty sure this video takes the cake as needing the least dough to produce. (I'm so linguistically clever!) Seriously though, some of their videos are really entertaining. See their music videos here if your internet connection does not involve phone lines.

If you missed seeing them on The Daily Show, you can catch them again today, (Dec. 2) with Conan O'Brien.

2005-12-01T16:47:00.000-05:00

Give it to your mom.

Poor Tom.

Keepin' it real.

This boy did not live, but thanks to someone quick with a camera, we got to see his last moment. Keepin' it real Part II

My intramural soccer team last year was named Team Hasselhoff.

These pictures were from http://netnerd.ca/gallery which has some awesome and funny stuff.

Finally, I must leave you with an image so horrid, it will leave a lasting impression.

2005-12-01T04:13:00.000-05:00

Questions

A cold brisk night with fireflies
attacked and gave me
chills.
Bundled tight, I said goodbye
to friends behind headlights.

2005-11-30T15:51:00.000-05:00

This is my first list ever, and probably ever, but it needs to be put out there. You might be thinking, Angelina Jolie, Natalie Portman, Heidi Klum, and Eva Mendez, but they didn't make the top ten.

Top 10 People I'd most like to see naked:

Shannon Elizabeth-32-She plays poker, she's recently single after a 10 yrs relationship, she's mega hot. Also, something about that accent in American Pie...
Elizabeth Hurley-40-She was in Austin Powers and she deserves better.
Carmen Electra-35-Remember Baywatch? Me neither. She has recently made several stunts as host to some shows, and I remember thinking, "why isn't she naked again?"
Jennifer Garner-35-OMG yes. Elektra, Alias, Dude Where's My Car, and of course, Mr. Magoo... Have you seen her? 'nuff said.
Lindsay Lohan-19- Someone my age in Hollywood? And she's awesome? I'm in for the fire crotch. It's Linsday Freaking Lohan! She can sing and shit, and I like that.
Jessica Alba-24-Sin City, Invisigirl, Dark Angel. I used to watch Dark Angel, and it wasn't because of the story line.
Oprah Winfrey-51-Who wouldn't want to see Oprah bare? She's the most powerful woman around. It's freakin' Oprah. Maybe I could even extort some money out of her, which would be fun.
Any of the female dancers in the music video "Call on Me" because I'm not too particular. I think in particular, the black haired one chewing gum. I wish I was Eric Prydz. I would also like to join that work out class please.
Eva Mendez-31-Okay, I lied. There was no way she couldn't be on this list. Her Power and Specialty is in looking amazing. Holy Smackarooz, she can not be left off this list.
Your mom!- I don't know her age, or appearance, or anything about her, except that she's your mom, and that's good enough for me. I typed in "your mom" in the google search and this picture came up. Looks like someone could use the Anti-Eating Face Mask.

There's actually some people not on this list that would take priority over Beyonce and Your mom, but you wouldn't know who I was talking about. I try to keep my audience on the "in."

In other news...
The Berenstain Bears Author died at 82 yesterday. This is terrible terribleness at its worst. What ever will we do without him? If you don't know about his life, basically, his life was spent writing 200 books about bears. Also, his name was Stan Berenstain. In writing the books, he teamed up with Dr. Seuss, and now he's dead. I thought I had made it clear that Seuss was bad news...

You have not lived until you see Mascots beat each other up in mascot suits.

2005-11-29T21:26:00.000-05:00

It is time Christians got what they deserve. It's time for some facts.

1.) Jesus was a drunk, or possibly a vampire. He liked wine so much he turned blood into it.

2.) Jesus never married. Or dated. He was the most famous guy around. Ladies dig power and fame, and he even had a few tricks up his sleeve. What straight guy wouldn't hook up with that? In fact, he never kissed a girl, only peasants and poor people. He was definitely gay. Looks like those single wise men had an influence on him.

3.) Which explains why they killed him.

4.) If you don't believe me, read the bible.

And what is the Christian stance on dinosaurs? Dinosaurs were reptiles that lived before us and fit into Evolution, which goes against the Christian philosophy of Creationism where God just pulled some magic tricks out his sleeve and created stuff in seven days. I was interviewing my roommates (both Christians) and they said Christianity doesn't have a stance on dinosaurs. How can you not have a stance on them? Dinosaurs are a huge deal. Will someone with Christian powers please inform me?

Also, Christians are supposed to side with God. God rewards people for being good, and the Devil punished people for being bad. So aren't they on the same side?

Furthermore, with the amount of bad going on, it seems like people should be ganging up against God, and take him out of his high chair. Instead of putting all this work into saying, "yeah I sinned, forgive me because you have no choice so I have a clean slate again," let's just say he forgives us constantly without us saying it. It seems too trivial to do what we want then just say sorry. I believe in democracy and I never voted for him. There's a reason Presidents don't get appointed for life. The power goes to their head. Don't fear, God may get re-elected, but Allah and Buddha may give him a run for his money and make him work a little harder at his job. All I'm sayin' is, if I'm having a god watch over me like a Peeping Tom, I want him bustin' his ass.

And remember all those people that keep saying Jesus is coming again? Or that the end of the world is coming? I know it became popular before the year 2000. I remember a special on tv where some Christians believed the end of the world was coming or whatnot. Guess what People-trying-to-gain-popularity-through-instilling-fear: the end has not come. People like this arise every once in a while, and pick some day far in the future, so that there's no proof they'll be wrong until that day comes. So all the while they gain popularity, citing vague references from the Bible to support their theory, then when nothing happens, which is every time, they fade from the public eye until they can think of another good time when the end of the world will come. How come nobody makes fun of them? Well here's me and I'm stickin' it to them for being idiots. Screw you guys. In the words of Americans across the nation, "your an idiot."

2005-11-28T17:42:00.000-05:00

Fragrances that wouldn't sell but have cool names:
Essence of Man
Wisp of Lumber Jack
Mysterious Aroma of Egypt
Trapt Tingling Sensation
Essence of Pain!
Mindnumbing Madness
No Escape (for the ladies)
Commando Dragon Breath

Captain's Dank Fish Tank

Essence of Casey's Fantastic Doo-doo Butter?

why oh why?
BRISBANE, Australia (AP) -- A French woman who is terrified of flying admitted in an Australian court Monday that she drunkenly tried to open an airplane door mid-flight to smoke a cigarette.

And slowly, the sheep turned to each other and glared silently.

"When I get my kids, I won't baby talk them. I'm gunna have them learn English the right way."--Neal is always quotable

let it be known that your dog isn't this ugly

again with the Santa Claus from Dennis Leary:
"Some fat guy comes to your house bringing toys he and his helpers made just for you? And all he asks for in return is some cookies and a glass of milk? He sees you when you're sleeping and he knows when you're awake..." sounds like petifile to me. No wonder he's so jolly.

As she spoke he whirled the egg beater around and yelled "EGG BEATER!"

Two men are walking down the street...
I forget the punch-line, but your mother's a whore.

Picture time!!

This guy makes it too easy.

Real Inventions from Real People!!

Here's what they had to say:
Hey, are you tired of leaving your small pets at home when you are out and about? Could you use a little more quality time with your gerbils, mice, hamsters or snakes? Well now your dreams have come true with the Gerbil Shirt! The Gerbil Shirt wraps your torso in plastic tube passageways, making your bod a super highway of fun for Binky and Bart. The interior surfaces are textured for traction and have air vents for easy breathing.
The inventor suggests you can clean the Gerbil Shirt by attaching it to a faucet (remove pets first please), and you should avoid collisions and falls that could cause pet panic. We give two thumbs up to this living fashion accessory and we can't wait to see the toy poodle version.

Aren't hamsters squishy??

Protect Your Bananas!!! Introducting the Banana Suitcase

Aren't you sick of carrying a banana around with you and when it's time to eat it it's all mushy? Forget lunchboxes. Your banana deserves all the special treatment it can get. Remember how it's the food of choice of monkeys? They know how good an unbruised banana can be. To operate, merely stuff your small or large banana to conform with the proper curvature and size of the case. Once it is properly fitted in the tight case, merely put the case in with your lunchbox and have it safe from the damage your Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches can deliver.

I wish I had the talent to think up one of these:Ever get sick of getting rained on at the big game? Ever wish you had a flat tray on your lap for your soft drinks? Ever wish you could look like a paper bag? Wish no more. Look how diabolical this guy looks zippered inside his bag. He's so freaking content. He knows what it takes to be a fashion statement, and he's out to show the world what a great product he just bought. I'm not sure how this thing packs up, so just be ready to walk into the stadium wearing this thing, so when the rain begins and everyone else is absorbing the water (ahhh!! water!!) with their skin, you can rest content that most of you is dry, except for your arms and legs. Ahh, another fine investment.

If I ever had a weight problem, I would control it with this...

The Anti-Eating Mouth Cage!!

Ever feel the need to eat anything and everything around you? The Anti-Eating Face Cage is a brand new way that will change the way you deal with the world. Using Ventilation Technology, you can still breath through your mouth and talk, just not sneak food in your mouth. And even if you want to eat, the lock prevents you from any second thoughts. Just don't lose the key!

Jokes flow freely when pictures are like this. If you want to make your own caption, go to www.totallyabsurd.com. Learn which of your ideas have already been taken so you don't waste your time!

2005-11-27T22:47:00.000-05:00

Well...I'm back. I had a Thankgiving break and it was fun. I saw Neal a couple times which is always fun, and I went to a party with Keith and Blong. Turkey day was at my house with my mom, dad, half-sister and her two mini-kids of ages nine years or less. The food was good, but how interesting can it be when I'm surrounded by two people in their late 50s, a thirty year old single mom and two hyper children? I did my best.

Now for a section entitled:

From What I Remember...

There's a reason girls are cold. It's so they can cuddle with guys for warmth. I was woken up to some girl saying, "I'm freezing," to herself apparently. It was cold in that room, about 50 degrees, and my drunken warmth jacket was wearing off. I was about to explain, "hey Dumb Bitch, it's your own fault if you're cold b/c there's three guys within three feet of you laying there, solitary, your personal body heater, when I opened my eyes and it was not Dumb Bitch, but Ugly Bitch. She had tagged along with her friends nice bitch and dumb bitch to this gathering. I call them bitch because dumb bitch was with some rich dumb brat character, and I don't remember their names. She was hopping around on everybody's lap before he showed up, like a quarter whore, until this kid came in exclaiming, "I have $1000 rims on each of my tires!" and she began making out with him. It's a shame because she was the hottest one.

I kept waking up at the slightest sound. One of the better moments was when everyone was asleep and Dennis walked to the bathroom, looked in the room and said "I hate you Keith." I couldn't help but chuckle because Keith was laying with this other really hot girl Dennis had clearly liked for good reason, for she's both really pretty and non-slutty, an almost unheard of combination, and she's nice and smart...anyway....

It's no secret I got mega-ultra drunk, but it's fun. Everybody pays you attention and escorts you places for free. I kept getting lead to this one room early on in the night. I'd wait 'till they left then wander back out mumbling proclamations like, "shhh...I escaped!!"This happened at least four or five times. They never learn. I'd just be like, leaning against the fridge, and three people would assault me like the Governmental people vs. ET, and take me to a matress with a bucket (my Bucket of Awesome/love bucket). For some reason, even though I wasn't being loud of obnoxious or anything, lots of people thought it was a great idea to repeatedly lead me away and tell me to go to sleep (nice bitch in particular). Somehow the fact that I was just going to get right back up as soon as she left wasn't sinking in. At one point she said, "promise me you won't get up again" to which I said, "you know I can't be trusted when I'm like this" and she didn't care. We shook pinkies, she left, and I followed a minute later. Several times during the night I remember people saying, "how is he still standing??" I never cease to amaze people.

My vision was really bad. I couldn't read things and I was happy. I learned it's fun to not be able to read. I couldn't make out faces. It really wasn't my fault because there were so many. I'd sometimes guess for a while, and when I got it right, I would exclaim it victoriously: "Joe? Joey. Jeff...Jason!!" Everything became a guessing game of faces, which happens to be a very fun game. At one point I said, "isn't your name Alison?" to some girl talking to me and she said, "yes! wow, I'm really impressed you know my name." I was too. It was perhaps my proudest moment in life.

There were lots of people making out that otherwise would never have been making out. Alcohol leads to the almost certain scenario of some nice girl helping you walk. When I had just finished my last drink of the night, I recall sarah saying, "are you alright?" Me: "yes, I'm fine, I'm just chillin." then I sat on the bench, realized this wasn't as comfortable as possible, so I layed down on the basement floor. Who knew it could be so comfortable? Brian came downstairs, (he later told me it was to proudly announce he was on number nine because we were one for one-ing each other) and found me on the ground and he was like, "well so much for that contest." They tried escorting me away and I said, "jussst because I'm lying onnn the ground doessn't mean I'm drunkk." Brian's retort: "oh I'm sorry, I thought that was exactly what that meant." Damn you Brian and your wittiness! Then I made some comment like, "wowww. walking is wayy easier when there are two people helping you."

Alls I know is people like me and my odd comments when I'm drunk and I have a good time, so everybody wins (my brain, you don't count). Alcohol is the best drug out there. I was eating asbestos earlier that day in my house, and not ONE girl started talking to me. I'd never been into alcohol, I was always the person scorning those that drank in high school, envious of their popularity but I've found it's easier to join them than fight them. This was only my fifth time drinking this year, and thus ever, so I think I'm not over doing it. In my book, it's totally okay to get smashed every once in a while. This concludes my session of "From What I Remember."

2005-11-23T00:03:00.000-05:00

I'm not much of an interior decorator, but I do know what makes everything look better: fire. Fire goes well with everything. Nobody ever looks at fire and goes, "ick...tacky." If fire didn't turn things into ashes, but could rather keep going continuously with no huge fuel cost, and it didn't produce large quantities of smoke, and the heat wouldn't cook you alive....a lot more things would be on fire right now for fashion purposes. Certainly, everything of mine would be. Sometimes when I'm just walking around I picture everything in flames...hot!

When I see a kid (5 years old or younger) running, I always imagine him falling to the ground and start crying. It makes me laugh inside.

Old people are to be humored because they have lived longer than me and I will eventually most likely become one of them. It's highly irritating when they reappear every STINKING YEAR. Sometimes I'm waiting in line and they take up the space with their oldness. It's a shame it's not socially acceptable to grab an old person by the folds of their wrinkly neck, yank them out of line and drop-kick their ass back to Minnesota where it belongs. Plus, I might hurt my foot.

Anyone with a Chihuahua or Poodle needs to be immediately cleansed from society. And all blogs are worthless studies of how much any idiot can write about his or her own worthless life. In fact, anyone with a blog is stupid.

Manners are not in style.

Which is better: to gripe about politics or celebrities. Worse? I'm getting the feeling that the E! Hollywood and shitty magazines supporting paparazziism are as dumb as as all those news articles about the Senate, Bush's talks, and government press releases.

Body Paragraph--[eliminated to due to time constraints]

In summary, Joe the Tool is no better than Captain Foreign Policy Discusser. They're both pointless. If I want to be happy, I cannot allow myself to ever write about celebrities or politics, and that's a scientific fact. I don't want to learn or overhear anything more about either. Stop fussing over other people's lives and do something with your own. Anyone who disagrees is wrong. Am I right?

Oh those silly goats.
http://www.yourdailymedia.com/media/1119129342

Something entirely different:

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/mensroom

Finally, I must cut to the picture of the day:

This is how I travel. I even have the same tweed hat.

totally awesome...

Now I'm off for Thanksgiving Break to consume as many turkeys as the next man or woman. Hopefully this post will stave off your cravings for more until I return next week! Cheers.

2005-11-22T02:55:00.000-05:00

This is me smashed. In this picture I apparently decided to be a pirate. I don't remember that night or why I'm wearing an eye patch. I'm following the trend of everyone having a drunk picture of themself on the internet.

2005-11-22T01:54:00.000-05:00

I do not have a picture of me on my computer, so I drew a rough sketch so you get an idea of who's talking to you. The drawing came out a lot better than expected. If I can keep up this kind of work, I'm thinking about majoring in art.

2005-11-21T22:57:00.000-05:00

This is something that makes me go, "WTF!!" time and then time again. It's something that through its deep messages, it just gets funnier and funnier the more you look at it. I'm not endorsing this website, but it makes fools laugh through its absolute oddity. Maybe I'm just tired.
Also, let it be known that viewing more than 50 of these comics in a sitting will lead to seizures and death, and hiccups. Go if you feel like stupid joke time. Good night, minions!

2005-11-21T10:58:00.000-05:00

A big no-no

I am very sad. I just read my email, which had someone from this arbitrary extra-credit group saying we were meeting today at 10:00 and it's almost 11. So I'm like, "fuck no" because I missed the last group meeting because I slept through my alarm. The gist of the situation was that me and four other people were doing a project on the evolution of the heart in vertebrate mammals. So I'm like, "Fuck!!! I can't believe I just missed two meetings! God damnit! I'm gunna have to bust my ass over break now and email everyone and say I'm sorry and get caught up." I finally get over this and read the next email, it says: "Remember to show up to your extra credit presentations tomorrow at 12:30 in Hochestetter room 223. A reminder for any groups that know someone will not be coming, I will not penalize you. I'm not singling anyone out, but if you do not go to your extra credit presentation, all your subjective points will be lost." This was dated Saturday. I check again and the one that said the meeting was tomorrow was sent 12:45am Sunday. It now clicks that I've just missed my entire extra credit presentation and lost all my subjective points. After about ten minutes of real, hard flipping out, I accepted what I could no longer change. Who needs subjective points anyway? What IS a subjective point? I don't even know. It's subjective. Whatever it was, I don't get any. I suck. Hardcore. Fuck it. I'm dropping out of school. It is the only way.

2005-11-20T19:19:00.000-05:00

I've discovered the word I like least of all in the English language: beaurocrat. Hearing this word is like that feeling you get when you drink a glass of milk and something thick goes down and you find out somebody put a snot rocket in that glass of milk, combined with blood boiling anger, like if somebody took your virginity without asking, or gave you a high five sarcastically. I don't fully understand why it sounds so awful, but perhaps it's that I heard some sophisticated talk show lady say it, in her slightly snobby way, talking about some boring boring topic I didn't want to hear on AM radio (I was forced into listening by my dad, who enjoys the sound of static on an AM radio station). Furthermore, this word is French, and therefore useless. Just look at its spelilng!! If it was an American word it would be Burrocrat, like a burrito combined with a rat, and the meaning wouldn't be far off from its root words. Instead, it starts of "beau," which raises your hopes. You think, "is it going to be "beautiful?" or "beauteous?" Then you hear the word, and your world comes crashing down. All your hopes and dreams are shattered, and the thought remaining that could end it all would be to end it all. If you are in my presence, please PLEASE avoid saying this abomination of a word. Thank you.

2005-11-18T00:29:00.000-05:00

When was the last time you got a Christmas present? Last year? I want presents every day, but I don't get them. Come Christmas time, there's a lot of things I won't be getting also: an Xbox 360, a Mercedes, and an Egyptian slave just to name a few. Instead, I'll be getting a lot of crap that I don't want. I'll get some socks, some lame toy from Toy Works, some cards without money, some soap, and a day with my family. On top of that, I'll have had to spend a bunch of my money and time to buy other people stuff, probably stuff better than they're getting me, and there's no way of knowing. I don't want to spend more on them than they spent on me; I want to spend an equal amount, but there's no way of knowing the amount because I don't know what I'm getting because I have to WAIT as if it's a surprise. It's not a surprise; I know I'm getting gifts on December 25th. It would be a surprise if I didn't get gifts, and a surprise for all my relatives if they didn't get gifts, either.

I propose that instead of spending money on other people, buying useless crap they don't want, you spend money on yourself on something you do want. That way, useless crap-making companies don't make the huge sales they rely on during the Holidays, and they don't get to gloat over what a great company they are. Don't rob all the companies that make legit cool products Joe and his mom could use by buying something shitty that they have to pretend to like. Instead, guarantee that you get exactly what you want, without feeling like a jackass by having to tell someone else you want it. You're basically saying, "Hey, go buy this for me." If you buy it yourself, you don't have to wait around weeks or months or however long it is until this day for Christians (even though many/most of us celebrating aren't Christian) arrives. "Santa," like so much of your belief system, doesn't exist. Even the most hardcore believers can't refute that one. Oh, if you're a child, don't read the previous two sentences.

This guy doesn't even exist. Good job marketing schemes. You rock.

The only honest benefit Christmas brings us is the guarantee of vacation from our worthless jobs and school. Children get to roam the street during the coldest time of the year, catching colds and bringing them into your house to share (in the Christmas spirit...w00t!). If everyone buys themselves the gifts they want, we'll all have exactly what we want with no disappointments. If you don't get the gift you wanted, you'll know ahead of time--none of this get depressed on Christmas bull-donkey. Christmas is supposed to be a happy occasion!

People argue that the anticipation of getting makes the gift worth the wait. Garbage. Nobody likes to wait. For anything. When was the last time you enjoyed waiting in line for something? No store ownder has ever put out an advertisement, "You can't take it home today! You've gotta wait for about a week!" without suffering some serious mental/economical problems. It's not a convenience to have to wait, and nobody likes being inconvenienced. When was the last time you went to buy something you needed, and the "out of stock" sign lit up your face with joy? Are you getting the message or do I have to wait for it to sink in? For those of you who can't read fast, I'll try writing slower.

It's not that I dislike Christmas--I love it, but I think we should be allowed to buy ourselves gifts we want. Go ahead and buy other people presents too if you want--I don't care, but if you don't want to wait and then possibly not get the proper noun you saw in an advertisement, I don't see what's wrong with a little self-indulgence. The two weeks following Christmas have the greatest number of returns than any other time of the year, meaning Average Jane and Joe wasted time buying something useless, wrapping it, and then wasted the recipient's time by having to return it, and the store workers' time having put it back on the shelf. Sometimes, you have absolutely no idea what to get someone. A lot of people feel they have to, so they just get off easy and buy some shit product, comforting themselves with the idea, "it's the thought that counts." If everyone buys for themself what they want, we can be instantly gratified and have the happiest Christmas of our lives.

Note: Buy me good things for Christmas this year and I will too!

PS
-My hands have smelled like Formaldehyde for the last several hours because I haven't gained enough Caring Points to bother to get up and wash my hands.

2005-11-17T05:12:00.000-05:00

I read a sign that said, "help make poverty history!" I'm in.

First, I will become a poverty stricken "dude." Next, I will do something that will make me mega famous, to put me above all the other poor chums. To do this, I will organize the world's first All-hobo Run-From-Guns Race. It will promote peace by teaching people to run instead of shoot back. This will eliminate crime from the hobo district. We'll gather all the hobos across all the states, and even people who look like hobos, and put them in Times Square. Next, we release a group of volunteers with guns who open fire upon them as the hobos attempt to run, in the very very congested area. The distance is yet to be determined, but I don't think they'll get very far--not when the volunteers have Turret guns and rocket launchers!

This is serious message for all the people who write "shower" for an away message, possibly with a wink or smile. If an away message says "shower," this roughly translates to: "I want you to picture me naked." It usually works, but stop trying to pull the "I'm innocent" look. You just want sex, give it a rest.

It's a fact that usually I think I'm pretty smart. I mean, my opinions always seem right, and who else can make all the right calls? But sometimes, I think I'm really dumb, borderline retarded. For example, I often get disoriented after class. I have a horrible sense of direction. I wander around and when I leave a building, I don't know where the next building is. If there are two directions, it's a fifty-fifty guess and there's nothing I can do except stop and think for a while. For this reason, I'm retarded. Then, there's times like yesterday, when I go to a class that doesn't exist until Thursdays. Class got out early, at 7:20, and I had a class at eight, so I waited until then, only to realize I didn't have a class on Tuesdays at eight. Then, there was the time when I went to my Statistics room for my Organic Chemistry test because I mixed them up. These events would damage my esteem, but I laugh at them. Also, one of my friends, who I consider to be the smartest kid I know in many ways, has moments like these too--stupid moments that level you down so that even clowns can make fun of you. If you find yourself being stupid, realize there's no excuse, because you're not me.

Here's a message to the foreign newspapers: if you aren't trying to hide something, then why aren't you printing it in English? -Steven Colbert

In Kansas they actually voted to allow Evolution to be challenged by "Intelligent Design" or Creationism in their schools. They can dress it up however they want to but it's still teaching religion in school. Let's add Kansas to the list of states to be bombed/returned. (First is Idaho)

"If Einstein is so smart, then how come he's dead?"

The following is somewhere on ebaumsworld:

"I was happy. My girlfriend and I had been dating for over a year, and so we decided to get married. My parents helped us in every way, my friends encouraged me, and my girlfriend? She was a dream! There was only one thing bothering me, very much indeed, and that one thing was her younger sister. My prospective sister-in-law was twenty years of age, wore tight mini skirts and low cut blouses. She would regularly bend down when near me and I got many a pleasant view of her underwear. It had to be deliberate. She never did it when she was near anyone else. One day little sister called and asked me to come over to check the wedding invitations. She was alone when I arrived. She whispered to me that soon I was to be married, and she had feelings and desires for me that she couldn't overcome and didn't really want to overcome. She told me that she wanted to make love to me just once before I got married and committed my life to her sister. I was in total shock and couldn't say a word. She said, "I'm going upstairs to my bedroom, and if you want to go ahead with it just come up and get me." I was stunned. I was frozen in shock as I watched her go up the stairs. When she reached the top she pulled down her panties and threw them down the stairs at me. I stood there for a moment, then turned and went straight to the front door. I opened the door and stepped out of the house. I walked straight towards my car. My future father-in-law was standing outside. With tears in his eyes he hugged me and said, "We are very happy that you have passed our little test. We couldn't ask for a better man for our daughter. Welcome to the family.

The moral of this story is:
Always keep your condoms in your car."

Men are better than women because we can open all our own jars.

I read an article titled: "Kids Make Nutritious Snacks." I had to disagree. It's more of a meal.

2005-11-16T01:29:00.000-05:00

Fuck Facebook:

Facebook was a trend that caught on because it gave people an easy way to stalk people they've lost contact with. Sure, maybe it's helpful for a couple people out there, but for the vast majority, its addictiveness has led its way into the evil gates of hell. I had to stop checking out facebook because I caught myself looking at the info of people I've never seen. This goes too far. We have Instant Messenger and Cell Phones, home phone numbers, email...isn't this enough!?
Another thing, messages on "The Wall" are a large waste. They never have anything of value to say. It's always some comment about their picture, or about how they love you (I didn't get any of those), or how they miss you, or about some event they shared in the past. If you haven't seen a Wall comment yet, basically, they're like this:

"A big HELLO from Long Island! :-P Oh and nice pic...should I even comment?? *Wink* I miss my C-town buddies!!! This summer was incredibly fun despite my uhm illness. Yeah - thanx 4 bearing w/ me lol! I'm still alive!! Take care n be good - don't do anything I wouldn't do! Ha ha ha funny right? *Mwah*"

Not funny. Reading posts like this make me want to bleed. I feel nauceous and have to go lie down for a while. Seriously, if you've ever found yourself posting something like this, go kill yourself. And if you post something like that on my wall, I'm going to kill you myself.
Something else I'm opposed to are the "Personal Info" categories. Since when is "favorite movies, favorite books, and favorite quotes" worth viewing? Nobody cares what movies or books you list as liking. Don't stress over remembering whether Dodgeball or Punch Drunk Love is better, and whether it belongs on your list of favorites. The idea these creators have that listing your favorite of anything is any indicator as to what kind of person they are, or that anybody cares, is frankly the dumbest thing to ever hit the internet. If you were talking about yourself, you would not describe what your favorite book or movie is, so it does NOT need a separate category to say it! Type about yourself and share what you want, but please leave out inane opinions about which Movie/Book/Quote you like better. This isn't exclusive only to facebook, but to Myspace and other trendy "talk about yourself" sites. If it isn't entertaining, please...LEAVE IT OUT!

Like any computer would on a Monday evening, I was scanning the internet and came across a series of questions like: "McDonalds or Burger King?" "Sunshine or Rain?" "Lights on or Off?". I read this survey someone had actually filled out and was speechless they had taken the time to do it. Even though they are one word answers, they are one word answers to the STUPIDEST QUESTIONS EVER DEVISED!!! FUCK! SHIT! @#%$!! GOD DAMNIT. This makes me so pissed I could punch a hole through a Vietnam Vet* and not feel any pain. There were literally over fifty questions like this, so pointless even my 9th grade Spanish class was like, "SHIT!"
The horror of the matter is, there are literally millions of people out there who have taken this quiz on Myspace, and millions who have read the answers to this quiz on other people's pages. One could toss in the argument that "Who cares? They're stupid," and while I support the argument that they are stupid, I must have this call defenestrated by saying, "it's not about how stupid they are, it's that I witnessed their stupidity and can't get it back out of my head." Is there no end? When it ends, please tell me, so I can safely scan the internet in peace once again. It is my dream to have them abolished. Like George Carlin says, "if you can't beat them, arrange to have them beaten." LOL!!

*Nothing against them personally. At least they're not MTV watching, trendy clothes wearing, "lol/*wink*" talking, cell phone giggling, relationship obsessed bitches.

2005-11-15T06:22:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wonder what I was dreaming about, and so begins this tale. It may help if you read it in George Carlin's voice.

I was dreaming I was at a comedian performance and I was reading the jokes. I was there for a while, and I recall saying the jokes, I just don't remember what the jokes were. WTF! There were dozens of them. I know they were funny, because I was laughing in my dream and so were all the people in the audience. Then I wake up in the real world and I can't remember what they were. Was it stuff I already know? Or, maybe in this twisted dreamland, it wasn't funny at all. It was just something odd and I somehow thought it was funny. Something like: "you ever remember tomatoes? They're red!" and that would be the joke. It wouldn't pass as a joke in the real world, but in Dreamville, hey, it was good enough to sell out a concert hall.

We twist stuff all the time in our sleep. We've all experienced it when someone's calling our name to wake up, so suddenly someone in our dream appears and they're talking to us. We don't doubt for a moment that our dream is fake; it all makes sense. Only in our dreams can we shift from fighting other people's parents in the streets to running in a field talking to a dog and think it's real.

And what about recurring dreams? I used to have this dream where I was being chased by a Giant through a forest on my property, and then I'd end up suddenly falling off a cliff before I'd wake up. I don't know what the significance of it was, but I'm thinking it was a warning not to run from Giants, but to talk to them and ask them what their deal is.

And have you ever noticed how you never die in your dreams? Like, I'd be falling off a cliff, and I'd wake up before I hit the ground. Why not just keep dreaming? I could hit the ground and bounce back up to uppercut the giant then morph it into a puppy. Hey, it's just a thought. It seems like I should be able to control what I'm thinking when I'm thinking it, since it's all in my head anyway. Instead, despite creating ridiculously crazy (not just crazy) scenarios that would only exist in a dream, I still have to follow rules like: I can't die, and I can't gain super powers to solve my problems. Unless of course, it IS one of those dreams where I start out having super powers, but I won't delve into that for now.

The point is: I'm thinking it, I'm creating those scenarios, so why can't I remember it? I'll wake up and totally forget what just consumed the last four hours of my life in REM sleep, let alone the last five minutes of it.

The best dreams are the exceptions, the ones that somehow, you realize it's a dream, while you're dreaming, so you do whatever you want. Stuff you'd never do in real life, because you KNOW, absolutely, that none of this is real. I was at a millionaire's Ball one time (in a dream) and I realized it was such, so I walked around telling people their life was pointless because they weren't real (what a buzz kill!) Then, I flipped over some tables and started a food fight. I probably punched some people in the face just because I could, stole a car and went driving as fast as possible wherever I wanted. And yet, despite all this, I still couldn't fly, I couldn't turn some person I was talking to into Jessica Alba and make out with her, and I couldn't grow into Godzilla and stomp people. I know this because I thought it out in said dream and tried. So, even in the best scenario, when I realize it's all a dream, I'm still contained by the "rules" of the dream. Fuck that. My dreams, though usually cool, need to realize they're not tough, relax, and let me make the calls.

2005-11-13T02:26:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking lately about who would be in the ultimate battle, representing all sorts of comics and powers. Mario's just a little bitch, so he's out. Samus can just roll into her little ball and hide, and Captain America's shield won't help him when this shit goes down. I'm talking badass characters. Wolverine is in, because he's got a bad attitude, and Yoshi is the only dinosaur, so he's gotta represent the past. Some jedi has to use the force an' tear shit up with his light saber, so I nominate Darth Vader. Superman is in, because he's got bulletproof abs of steel and he can fly, look through girl's clothing and do basically anything anybody ever thought was cool. Goku as a Supersaen would probably kick everybody's ass with a gigantic explosion though. I'm also putting in Gandalf the Grey, just so he can get his ass handed to him, like in that Tower. Storm had better stick to predicting the weather, and Pikachu can stay in his Pokeball for all I care. I'm also nominating Rick James cause he's a superfreak, and I want this fight to be jammin'. The Incredible Hulk doesn't really have any coolness except when he's pissed, so he's not even in this league. James Bond merely has a tagline of him saying his name, but Batman definitely makes the cut because he paid me a bunch of money. Harry Potter can fight so we can put an end to all his foolish antics and all the hype. I'm going to insert Jessica Alba/Invisible Girl/Dark Angel because she's awesome and I like her for her personality. She wouldn't win, but she could walk around all invisible and bitch slap people from time to time. Then, I'd put in a ninja to stomp everyone's face in with crazy assassinations. Did I leave anyone out?

2005-11-12T16:45:00.000-05:00

I'm like the opposite of the American busyman. People who walk fast and wear watches, have day planners and pencil in events for the future...to these people I say, "Woah." I play video games all day, sleep when I want to, and suck at tests. On this last test, there were four multiple choice questions I narrowed down to two (so I had a 50-50 chance), and I missed all of them. Grr. I'm recently battling between whether to write whatever I feel like on here, or whether to just stick to stuff other humans would enjoy. The difference is: if I write minute differences in my life, it's satisfying; if I don't, it's satisfying to the audience. Basically, I'm deciding who's more important--me or you, and I'm not sure.

So, here's a true story about how I bummed out some guy:

I got a message on my cell saying, "Dude, why the hell won't you pick up? I'm gunna call you one more time and you'd better pick up."--I did not recognize the voice, but it was really low (like Barry White, or Darth Vader)

About an hour later I got a call again.

guy: "hey, what's up."
me: "do I know you?"
guy: "yeah, I met you last night at Taco Bell."
me: "umm, no. That wasn't me."
guy: "What? So you're not the guy from the truck?"
me: "Nope"
guy: "That fucker must've given me the wrong number.... So you don't have any acid?"
me: "not for sale."
guy: "lick my nuts, asshole."--click

and a week ago I got a message on my cell like this:

"Hey Steve! It's your cousin Phil, just callin to wish you a happy 18th. I know you thought I was gunna forget to call you but I remembered and here's my proof! ....[bla bla bla]"
-For a moment, I thought I was Steve, and I was happy it was my Birthday. Then I figured it out. Then, I laughed at how Steve did not get his Happy Birthday from Phil.

-----------Randomness
-----------Randomness

Something many people don't take into account that humans and monkeys both share is that we both flang poo when we were babies.

From now on, if something is bad, it's like pouring syrup on a cat.
And the cat would deserve it. Fuck cats. They think they're so frickin' great. They don't even enjoy a good swim OR playing teeter totter with me when I jump on the teeter totter.

A beard is nothing but a mask that you wear ALL THE TIME.

Bring back 80's Haircuts!! and colorful clothing and sweaters!!

The monster under my bed doesn't get to visit the doctor.

"Headbutting is probably the manliest thing ever. Not only is it useful for suicide, it's also a great way to break up with your girlfriend. For example, I couldn't find the words to tell my ex that our relationship was over, so one day while we were watching TV I headbutt her in the tits. Then I picked up my jacket and left. No awkward goodbyes, no "still friends" bullshit. Just a couple of bruised titties and a failed relationship. I rule."-Maddox

The following are good or good/amazing:
Drawn Together, South Park, Family Guy, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, The Simpsons, Futurama, standup comedy
-I propose that if I had seven TVs and each show was on a different TV at the same time, my head would explode with anger

The following Websites consume/have consumed my soul:
-thebestpageintheuniverse
-homestarrunner
-redvsblue
-8bit theater
-RealUltimatePower
-TshirtHell (the emails)

2005-11-11T23:28:00.000-05:00

This article is called COPY AND PASTE stories from realultimatepower because I'm lame and they're my favorites. I'd send the address, but it just sends you to the homepage and you have to navigate until your eyes bleed black and crimson, and I don't think you'd want that.

"In some cave chalk full of hippos, there was this ninja. All the hippos gathered for a story. The ninja began with a warning: "If any hippo here cannot handle this type of crap, I suggest you leave right now." And some actually did. Then he began.

"All right listen. These old children were just goofing around once in a playground: sports and talking and stuff. Nobody wanted any trouble, even the unconfident kids. Well, there was this crackle and everybody looked up. Something shiny. Then this UFO flopped on the soccer field. One kid was like "What the heck?" And then its side door busted open and fog creamed out. The principle freaked out and tripped, spilling his guts on a table. Nobody knew anything about anything. Then there was this rolling sound getting louder and louder and quieter and finally louder. Out of the UFO, popped this giant can. It rolled past the soccer field and hit a pole. By the time they realized it was a keg of beer, the UFO zapped into space. Well guess what, somebody brought a radio and turned it on loud. Then one kid grabbed Dixie cups from her duffle bag. Everybody went berserk in a good way and partied hard. Little was understood that day, but, boy, did those kids party."

The ninja, having scared himself, beat his own ass in a paradoxical way. It was quite confusing for the hippos. But they were mature--they didn’t try to make sense out of non-sense. The hippos moved on, accepting those things they cannot change and surrounded themselves with only positive energy. By not defining what happened that day (or even themselves--their relation to it), they never limited their understanding and they never limited themselves."

And this one's just crazy:

"The King's Gold/Babes

Scene 1:
In the olden days, there was this sweet king that had mounds of gold and babes. These pirates decided to steal the mounds and surrounded the castle and everybody freaked, except the king who was like “Chill homies, I’ll handle this crap.”

The pirates stood outside the castle walls and were like “You think you are so cool, but guess what, you’re not. Good luck dying!” Then the king replied “Yeah right. How would you like to meet my best friends?”

Then out of nowhere there was a small sound of a guitar wailing really really hard behind the hills. The wailing started getting louder and louder and louder. Then out of nowhere there was this one sweet ass ninja standing on top of a huge hill. Everybody was like “Woooooooooooow!” He was wearing all black and he had this jet red guitar in his hands. Then smoke smoked over the hills like trains. But the smoke was ninjas. And the pirates saw about a billion ninjas with guitars standing on top this his huge hill. And they started to wail…

When the ninjas wailed on their guitars, the pirates started spraying diarrhea on each other and loved it. And when they wailed harder, the pirates sprayed harder. As the ninjas sauntered down the hill, the pirates’ chests and butts exploded. (They died from this.) Then the ninjas finally reached the boss pirate who was really huge. Out of nowhere the boss pirate pulled out this baby banjo and tried to fiddle with it like a little baby-baby. The ninjas were like “Yeah right.” and all the billions of ninjas surrounded the boss pirate. Half of the ninjas all combined to form the biggest guitar in the universe. The other half formed the second biggest boner in the universe. Then the huge guitar pointed right at the pirate, who was like “Holy CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!” Before the pirate could even do anything, the super boner slapped against the guitar making the hugest wail ever to happen anywhere ever. The pirate exploded so hard that every single one of his kids he would have had exploded and all of his grandparents exploded along with his neighbors and people who he merely said “hello” to.

Then there was this huge concert at the castle. All the babes in the castle morphed into this humongous female crotch. The huge boner and crotch porked softly, while slamming into the guitar and wailing. And guess what, the king sat on top of this huge pile of gold and babes and laughed his frigg’n ass off about how stupid the pirates were.

END

-this script is so hot it could make Janet Reno open up a paint can with her ding dong."

2005-11-10T21:38:00.000-05:00

Squids are the ULTIMATE Ninja creature. They are fast, with burst speeds up to 15 m/s, which is one of the fastest in the ocean, at an acceleration of twenty-five times gravity. Also, it can change color to hide! Not just in one place, like on the tentacles, but ALL OVER!! Tell me that isn't like a Ninja in a tree. On top of that, their mode of travel is JET PROPULSION. Traveling by jet propulsion speaks for itself in terms of coolness. Finally, squids can release a CLOUD OF INK behind them to confuse pursuers!! Just like a Ninja smoke bomb! They also have unblinking eyes, just like a Ninja. AND, when they get ahold of you, there is NO ESCAPE!! When you are fighting a Ninja, their arms go in a whirl of swordplay. Squids have EIGHT arms, and TWO TENTACLES!! I can't IMAGINE fighting that off! If you gave him swords, a squid would be UNSTOPPABLE. He watches, unblinking, hidden, then suddenly appears! Arms and tentacles are EVERYWHERE, and he can kidnap his hostage with deathly suction cup grips. A blink of an eye later, and he is gone, the only remainder is the black cloud of confusion, and the destruction he wrought is the only memory he was ever there.

[Flying Squid could own anyone!!]

Enter Ninja Rant: More Facts about Ninjas than Beans in your TUB!!

Some of you may be wondering, "what do you mean by Ninja?" A Ninja (note the capitalization; sometimes referred to as a "Full-Blood Ninja") could almost be considered a separate human subspecies. Regular people can becomes ninjas by practicing ninjutsu, but a Ninja is automatically born with the capacity to excell at the art. Ninjas are born from other Ninjas, and endowed with specific abilities through heredity. A Ninja is faster, stronger, and more agile than a regular person by a factor of three or more (more if they work at it, less if they don't). Ninjas have the natural ability to make themselves disappear into dark enough shadows, although the ability to teleport is an unconfirmed legend even among Ninjas. I think I saw a Ninja fly once, but I'm not sure if I actually saw it or if it was my imagination. It's also a well known fact that Ninjas flip out ALL the time. Ninjas don't kill themselves, only other people (suicide is for Samurais). When a fight is over, the Ninja will never shake your hand, because Ninja's never lose, and ALWAYS fight to the death if they want to. Ninjas are way tougher, faster, and sneakier than regular people. They are shadows in the wind, and that creak you heard wasn't a Ninja, because they're quieter than that. They're also more tenacious than regular humans. It's a fact that Ninjas can't be beaten by mortals, except when pitted against other Ninjas. Sometimes they like to throw Ninja stars and miss, just to see the reaction on people's faces! Ninjas are sooo cool, I could talk about them all day AND crap my pants. If a Ninja wants to humor you, he will talk like a pirate while killing you. Ninjas think Pirates arrr a joke. They're also crazy good with poison darts and bloguns. They spend most of their time training at hidden places that nobody knows about except other Ninjas. They are usually serious and very wise, but you can't let your guard down because they have a quick temper and won't hesitate to kill a non-Ninja. This is a Ninja----> Back to Squids:
I love squids SO MUCH, I just don't want to give one a hug. All those tentacles would gross me out and it would suck. It also might try to stuff me in its food hole.

Squids are frickin' amazing. Most are less than eight inches (compare that to your part!), but Giant Squid have been found at 18m in length(59ft-don't compare that to your part or you may lose confidence) and weigh 1,980lbs!!! They live mostly at depths of 200-700 meters, and scientists don't even know where they live in the sea. One has never been seen live in its habitat.

This is a Squid that got SUPER PISSED and attacked some villagers.

Travel down to 1000m and you'll find a different kind of squid 7ft long and up to 134lbs, the Taningia danae. This creature has the largest light emitting organs of any animal for defense. In the deep sea, that is killer blinding, believe me: I was trying to capture one. They are also very intelligent creatures, compared to the fish and whatever else is around. They're like Einsteins sitting around a bunch of rednecks, so they chill together and make fun of everyone, giving tentacular high fives after a funny joke.

some of the facts are from:
A.) seawifs.gsfc.nasa.gov/OCEAN_PLANET/HTML/squid_opening.html

B.) my Evolutionary Biology Lab notebook

C.) my imagination

also, the intro to Ninja rant was from Squid Ninja comics

2005-11-10T12:05:00.000-05:00

I tell this bedtime tale in response to Keith's request, following his guidelines. Enjoy!

Okay. So here's how it all went down, right? In the begining, there was a special young boy named Harry Gay. Harry's parents were gardeners, and his favorite task was putting the plants in pots. When he turned 18 years, he gave up his last name, because he never liked it very much, and changed it to Potter. Harry went to the Hogwarts School of Magic/Wizardry up until then, and he had become the most powerful wizard around. He could snap his wand and fight off ghosts, or ride the fastest broom around. One or the other.

One day, the Power Rangers were putting on a show in his town. He had always watched the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers, the TV show, and admired how they fought off aliens and evil robots, by transforming into an even BIGGER robot. He also liked the pink power ranger. So, he bought tickets to go see their tour and hopefully get a chance to meet his TV heroes. He took his Victoria Secret model girlfriend, Whoreminee, with him. He had known her since his boyhood days, but now she was finally legal and had turned out mega awesome, much to his delight. Now you can go to Reuters or CNN.com and read an article about how Harry Potter is supposedly a gay character, but really he just told his parents that so they wouldn't suspect anything, so he could take her wherever he chose.

So, Harry and Whoreminee were awestruck when the performance began. The Power Rangers kicked ASS!! They were so much better to see live than on TV. When I mean it was live, I mean, they were still filming the show, and the monsters showed up and there was destruction on a massive scale. Buildings were flattened, the crowd had to play the part of frightened people fleeing from certain death and so on. However, this particular demon could fly and it had teamed up with ghosts! The show got out of control and the massive robot the Power Rangers morphed into couldn't fight the ghosts, because it was in a different plane and it was all magical. Mechanical destruction can't touch magical. Soon, the crowd realized what was going on. Whore said, "Harry! They need your help!" So he busted out a wand, said "abra cadabra" and banished the evil ghosts to the nearest Pearl Jam concert.

The crowd was super happy that the ghosts were gone, but because it had gotten out of control, most of them had died. Really, the only people left were the manager of the Rangers, some cameramen, Harry, Whore, and the Rangers themselves.

The Rangers went to congratulate Harry on saving the day, and he bowed, had his picture taken with them and left.

Harry was driving back home for his curfew, when Whore busted out a fat ounce of weed and said in her irresistable voice, "let's smoke it!" like she always did. So he responsibly pulled over the car and they began smoking the grass. It was really powerful stuff. After a while, Whore got the great idea to turn a piece of Dentyne Ice she was chewing into acid. Harry reached for his wand and it was gone! The Power Rangers must have stolen it!

Harry was fuming! Without his wand, he couldn't do anything fun! He dropped his bitch off, sayin, "I don't want to get you hurt, my love" and drove back to the Power Rangers' trailer. He walked in while they were ganging up on the Pink Cheerleader, I mean Power Ranger.

"I know what you did! Give it back!"

They tried to play dumb. "What wand? We didn't take your wand!" But it wasn't working. Harry was used to being bullied. He grabbed a pencil as a makeshift wand, and began charging up for a Hadoken Blast.

Just then, the Pink Power Ranger changed the channel to Barney and Friends. It was no coincidence that Barney was on, because it was the Barney channel, nothing but Barney all the time. Harry was immediately distracted. He put down his pencil and sat Indian style on the ground in front of the tube, shut off from conciousness. That's when the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers put two and two together and realized Barney was his weakness.

Harry soon got the munchies and wandered down to the store. After eating his fill, he remembered his wand had been taken, and stormed back. In a fury, he put the pedal to the floor, intent on driving his Mercedes through the Rangers' trailer altogether.

Having planned for this, the Rangers summoned Barney using Harry's wand. Like magic, Giant Barney appeared right in front of the trailer! Harry couldn't hurt fat Barney! Barney was gentle! He went to swerve, but Barney was so big, he ran out of gas.

Now he was in the middle of the desert with no gas and no magic wand to help him, right next to Barney's blubber. Worse, the effects of the Mary Jane were wearing off.

The Power Rangers observed Harry through their magical looking glass sphere that they like to look through (if you've ever seen the show), and located his exact position. Then they used the power of the wand to hypnotize Barney into thinking Harry was a snack. Barney looked over his belly, reached down, picked him up and held him high, about to eat him. Oh no! Could this be the end?

That's when Johnny Depp came in and killed everyone, exlaiming, "my movies RULE!!" (so yes, it was the end)

2005-11-09T07:10:00.000-05:00

I think it's about time for another story. For the record, if you want me to write a story about anything, and it isn't serious like a political thesis or one of Gagne's stupid assignments, and I can use some imagination, I will write about it. So, even if I don't know you, or you think I don't know you, I can help. I'm the one to comment to if you've ever thought, "Hey, I've always wanted to have a children's story read to me about Evil Canevil visiting the three Berstein Bears, jumping over the three little pigs' house and landing on the wolf, spoiling all his fun, then using the three grateful little pigs as test subjects in his state-of-the-art catapult, to take over King Arthur's castle and win back the holy Grail, BU-uhhhT one doesn't exist." I know how hard having to live through something like that can be, and the toll it can take on young children, teenagers, and adults alike. I'm thinking Keith, or Pat, or Ben, or Brian, or at least Phil will step up to the challenge (sorry girls, but you just have no imagination).

I'm too lazy to have to think up a story right now, but the offer has been made.

Anyway, I was eating at Taco Bull and one of the girls (because there are dozens who abound in my presence during lunch) I was eating with filled up a Pepsi cup, put on the lid and took out a straw. She jammed down on the cross in the center, but somehow missed and created a little white milky plastic dent in the lid. Then, she did it AGAIN and missed! She knew we were all watching so she got all frustrated and stabbed at the lid several more times, failing to penetrate the cross in the center. By now, the lid was taking some serious damage. It was in bad shape.

At that point, I gently took the straw away from her and slid it in the straw hole. Then I looked her in the eyes and said, "it's a good thing I'm the one with the penis."

2005-11-08T14:47:00.000-05:00

This post about hair will be a waste of your time, but not a waste of mine. This is possible because the only other use of my time would be spent studying for the test I woke up early for to study. Instead, I've managed to avoid it. Some would call this procrastinating. This post was actually supposed to be about procrastination, but "meh, it can wait."

[This guy realizes he has no hair.]

My beef is with hair replacement products. Now, people get old and bald, but then just spend some money to have normal hair again. I say, "this is bullshit."

The people going bald are the people with thin hair. I, on the other hand, have very thick hair, meaning that I will never go bald in the same way that relatives before me never did. But people with thin hair look cooler. That's a straight up fact. Or, if someone has thick hair, it looks good curly. But I don't have that, either. Thin hair is so luxurious and flowing and shiny. I'm thinking of all the rockstars and celebrities on magazines. I could do some research and list names and read up on this subject, but I'm not going to complicate things by bringing facts into this.

I say, if people can go through life with thin hair, them going bald is just god's way of saying, "that's it, you've had enough time looking good, so you're going bald now. Time for those with hair forcing them to live in the shadows to come out in their old age and claim all the women left over." Granted, women don't flock to men simply because of their hair necessarily, but I'm sure it happens nonetheless. So now people are just neglecting god's plans by going out and buying products or getting surgery or whatever. Let me make it clear that this is the devil's work. True, I'm only bringing god into this to support my argument, speaking for him and making up stuff, but that's what any good Christian would do.

Whatever happened to wigs? I never had a problem with them. They were worn by the most powerful people around, and nobody questioned them. Then there's baseball caps and other type hats. And I don't even have a problem with toupets! They're kind of like hair, but in socially hilarious times, they come off somehow, much to the delight of everyone else. Little John in Robin Hood was balding, but that didn't stop him from kicking ass with his staff! If I ever go bald, I will wear a powdered wig, and I will look awesome doing it. All I ask is everyone else do the same.

Starting with him--->

This guy is the man to bring back the wigs for bald people. He understands what it was to be George Washington, or the Quaker Oats guy.

2005-11-08T07:10:00.000-05:00

Just for the record, I bring nothing to the table.

except this...

Goku is kameameaing you! You're about to be exploded just as soon as he finishes charging up.

2005-11-07T02:15:00.000-05:00

The following is a paid presentation from dead baby fans. These are some of my favorites.

How do you know when a baby is a dead baby?
The dog plays with it more.

How do you make a dead baby float?
Take your foot off of it's head.

What's the difference between a dead baby and a trampoline?
When you jump on a trampoline, you take your boots off.

What do you call a baby with no arms and no legs in the middle of the ocean?
Fucked.

Why do you stick a baby in the blender feet first?
So you can see the expression on its face!

How do you stop a baby crawling round in circles?
Nail its other hand to the floor.

What do you call a dead baby with no arms and no legs hanging on your wall?
Art.

How many babies does it take to paint a house?
Depends how hard you throw them.

How do you get 100 babies into a bucket?
With a blender!

How do you get them out again?
With tortilla chips!!!

What's more fun than strapping a baby to a clothesline and then spinning it around at 200km/h?
Stopping it with a shovel.

Why do you unload a truck full of babies with a pitchfork?
So you can tell which ones are still alive.

What do vegetarian ogres eat?
Cabbage patch kids.

There are a hundred more if you desire laughing at dead babies.

2005-11-06T09:52:00.000-05:00

I almost forgot!

This was at 5am mind you: a time when strange actions are heightened by the high of sleep deprivation.
I last ate some vending machine products, but they were terrible. First I had some Hostess orange flavored cup cakes for 85 cents. That was then followed by some mini graham crackers for 75 cents which were bad almost instantaneously. After the first three, I realized I could eat no more of this bad food, so I went outside and punted them every which way until the bag was done. It was a good deed.

But I'm pretty sure someone saw me. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but it was a funny thing.

The end.

2005-11-06T09:38:00.000-05:00

Current mood: reflective, concerned, hungry, running on no sleep

I may have an ugly scar on my face from that knife fight, but at least I'm still alive.

In the life of Casey, every day is a good day for pajama pants. (they speak unconformity, unlike jeans, while delivering a comfortable level of fit and warmth)

I'm like a jar of putty in the face of society. You can put me anywhere and I'll fit in. This leads to implications. We all know the adage, "you can't please everybody all the time." But really it's "in the same way" or "at the same time." You can please everyone you want to if you treat them all independently. But because blogs are a universal site where people of all types come, the words cannot be bent or shifted to meet everyone's personality. I've befriended people of very different types and backgrounds. Recognize most of us don't get along, and I'm sorry for offending the softer of my friends.

Thinking about what I'm going to do makes me more scared and nervous than I realized, but I'm still going to do it in the name of adventure and to make me a better person. It's kind of like my new year's resolution, only I'm independent of the calendar dating system.

My goal in life is to be one of the wisest old men this side of the Mississippi, fo' rizzy deal.

On another note, I'm supposed to get a couple visitor's today, except they haven't contacted me for directions yet. This is when I say, "stupid teenagers!" except they aren't teenagers.

2005-11-05T22:42:00.000-05:00

To celebrate halo2's one year anniversary on Nov. 9th, a lot of people are driving with their lights on. But that way, people with dimmers will be mistaken for halo2 fans. I advocate driving with your brights on, or better yet, driving backwards for the day. Then again, why do something that has absolutely nothing to do with the game to celebrate it? I'm contemplating writing "halo2 roxxorz" on my forehead in permanent marker, to ensure that everyone will recognize my intent to celebrate.

You know what is bad for squirrels? Ecstasy is bad for squirrels. They freak out.

There was a blog about weight loss to help those trying to lose weight. It got a lot of comments from people saying how it had changed their life. Weeeeee!!!! But the best comment was some cocky son sayin, "I'm skinny" I wasn't sure to take it as him rubbing it in all the fatties faces, or if he was just confused why he was reading about how to lose weight.

Penguins think they're so smart when they stand up in the middle of a snow storm.

I wish I could win a dinner for two at hooters.

I wish I owned a fully functional light saber. The ones on ebay aren't what I'm looking for.
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Now, a lot of people may try to teach you about uppercuts. People may try to explain that it's something like this:

But an uppercut should always be like this:

Good day!

2005-11-04T20:40:00.000-05:00

This post is not for the easily offended. Proceed with caution. So...
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This is America. These people celebrate our freedoms, and they clearly deserve it.

Note the scrolling bar at the bottom. I love "retro caveman dresses like a monkey."
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Now it's time to address some insults I've observed circulating in my college campus hall. The kids in my dorm are loud jerks that get drunk and swear at each other. It is my intent to poke fun at their idiocy. Here's my guide to cursing for those that struggle for the right words in a critical moment:

1.) "Fag"-this is your general, cover all bases insult. It is generally used on people who aren't actually gay, but it doesn't really matter. I like to dress it up by saying "faggity fag."

2.) "Idiot"-this has changed meaning slightly since that overhyped movie Napolean Dynomite. Remember that if you use this word, it's a safe bet at being accurate. It's more PC than many other insults.

3.) "Fuck tard"-this one's original. It combines the implication that they're retarded with the word "fuck," which is sure to offend everyone. Very effective.

4.) "Dirty Cunt"-ooooo. Good one. Your knowledge of the female anatomy proves you're more intelligent than me. It's kind of like calling someone a "cock" while implying bad hygiene and that they're a girl, which is the worst insult ever.

5.) "Whore, slut, cum dumpster"- this slew of insults is most effective when strewn together all at once, along with the combination of adjectives. It's very impressive if you say, "you dirty, ugly whorish smelly slut. You suck, you're stupid and you're smelly. I guess you didn't get the message: the city voted to remove all cum dumpsters in this area."

6.) "Bitch"- this one isn't very funny or useful as it is too short a word and used too much. However, if you tack it on to the end of your statement, it leaves them with a slight sting; "What now, bitch?" ouch.

Remember, when insulting someone, it doesn't matter that the words apply, just as long as they're bad words. Do this, and you're sure to turn some heads with your well-thought out remarks.
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I'm sorry for cursing in my post, but it is strictly for educational purposes to assist people who can't come up with actual good insults. If you are truly offended, please write out your comments on a crisp 100 dollar bill and send it to me.

2005-11-04T03:16:00.000-05:00

Always remember, the more drink you beer, the more powerful you become.
The more beer you drink, the more ladies like you for your mind.
The more beer you drink, the more intelligent you sound.
The more beer you drink, the more intoxicated you become.

one beer.......2$
two beer.......4$
three beer....6$
four beer......8$
....
fifteen beer....difficult math$ (30?)
realizing you have no more money for beer = someone's gunna die.

Some things money can't buy, but that's unimportant when you have beer.
Three cheers for beer!

2005-11-03T23:50:00.000-05:00

I've been studying for multiple hours, so it's time to ease my mind. I like to do this by thinking of situations I would never expect, in the hopes that if they do happen, I will be more prepared than everyone else. I would never expect it if:

while walking to class, some person randomly ran screaming by, pulling out his hair screaming, "NOOOO!!!"

myself, or someone I knew, actually had the world revolving around them like in the Truman Show.

George Bush was actually intelligent.

suddenly all the menus were changed to bacon and only bacon.

I was in line waiting for food, when lots of people suddenly began climbing on the walls like spiders, howling like possessed demons, and giving me high fives.

when drinking a glass of water, suddenly gravity disappeared and the water wouldn't come out of the glass. This would be terrible as I would not be able to drink beverages without a straw as quickly. Also, vehicles would not stick to the ground to get good traction, and old people would float up to their doom.

every time I said, "blam!" a baby died somewhere.

when I went to turn on a light switch, instead of a light turning on, everywhere else it got darker. Then, I went to turn on my TV, and a clone of Snoop Dogg appeared in my room.

when I went to pull out my dresser drawer to get dressed in the morning, the dresser exploded in a giant ball of flames and deathly deadliness.

I clapped my hands for some reason, and instead of a clap sound, someone within sight would fall to the ground.

I went to go crack my neck, but instead all the bones in my body disappeared.

the Buffalo Bulls won a football game.

all my calls were being monitored.

I was eating at subway, and I found a severed head, two arms and a cat in my sub.

Conan O'brien was hiding in my attic, and he was waiting until my 20th birthday to tell me, at which point he would build me a big birthday cake made of former guests on his show.

well...I think my mind is refreshed now, so I can get back to doin' the H-diggity, test prep.

2005-11-03T18:03:00.000-05:00

Every group of friends needs a crazy/drunken acquaintance to tell stories about.

Fortune cookies: in some way or another they have impacted your life. They're so vague that any of them could come true. Tonight mine was: "Someone from your past will come back to steal your heart." There are no specifics; it doesn't say who or when. It could be in 30 years, and "someone from your past" doesn't narrow it down much. I propose a brand of fortune cookies that are specific. Fortunes like: "Jack will fall in love with you within a year, but you will fail to return the favor, " or "one of your past girlfriends, probably Jacky, will revisit you and toilet paper your house on Halloween, for the chance to talk to you again," would make me much happier. I would much rather recieve one of those in a cookie than these vague, cryptic teasing messages that don't give you any information at all. All I'm asking for here are some times or names here, and I'd be a lot happier. Who's with me?

2005-11-02T22:55:00.000-05:00

There is some tight competition in the porno industry, and some loose.

Something I would never expect to happen would be the situation where I was waiting for the elevator to open, and when it did, a man wielding dual machine guns jumped out, looked both ways, and ran off.

Comparitively, I've never been this non-book smart. I know now more than ever before, but everyone else was learning things in the narrow frame of school.

2005-11-01T21:35:00.000-05:00

Someone who is good with a knife will not let you know he has the knife until you are being stabbed with it. Yeah, you kick that knife out of his hand. The people you are most likely to be defending yourself against are also the people most likely to be carrying a weapon. You can take 20 years of martial arts, but you'll still lose to a gun. For someone serious about self defense, I recommend a weapons license permit.
*Welcome to the real world*

The best time to make life changing decisions is when you can't get to sleep.

I want to step on a leprechaun. Smash in his face, or her face. Are there female leprechauns? Whatever; they're going to get stepped on if I ever meet one.

People are out there who think they're depressed. Sure, we live in the richest country in the world, with bountiful material possessions and no worry of starvation or diseases, but hey, maybe if I pop a few pills I'll chipper up. Throw them in the fuckin' pyramid.

Poker, running, biking, sit-ups, reading, writing, rapping, body building, studying western boxing, kickin' it free--this I will do alone, cut off, poor, and it will be unique.

2005-11-01T01:51:00.000-05:00

Penguins are stupid.

Nuns are worse. Let's say you walked up to one and kicked her in the shin. Would she summon the powers of god and fight back? No. She wouldn't because she can't. Nuns aren't cool like that, so therefore, they're nothing but weaksauce. Merely saying punishment will come eventually is not enough when you're getting kicked in the shin; these actions require immediate consequences!!

It's all about the ill tastes in music.

If you walk on a treadmill, it's just way to symbolic of life. You're walking and walking, and if you want to try harder you run, and no matter how much time you spend there, you're still in the same spot.

I will be sad if one day people do nothing but sit around on the bus, in a car, around a poker table, at dinner, independently listening to their Ipods and talking on their cell phones. That is already happening. Cell phones are the worst invention ever. Being always available for contact takes them away from their current situation. Fuck cell phones. If you want to talk, meet them in person.

Chocolate bunnies? WTF??

2005-10-31T12:06:00.000-05:00

There is nothing I want more than for my roommate's phone to burn in hell.

The number of times I said, "blam!" "kapow!" "fwoosh!" "vroom" "splat!" "bow!" "bam!" during Organic Chemistry today exceeded normal estimates. In fact, right at the moments I was about to pass out from intense fits of boredom, I would recite them quickly and with as much intensity as my boredom to keep me concious.

Things I love include: recognizing bits of corn in vomit spewed on the floor just outside the elevator, seeing small pretty dead birds randomly on the stairs, and observing a flattened rodent that clearly got hit by a bus.

Penguins can't fly because they're very lazy and drink too much beer.

When I am elected President, (not because I'm running, but just because I got elected) class times will be changed from 8am to 8pm, 11am to 11pm and so on, to assist my fellow nocturnal compadres, and to give the royal 'fuck you' to cheery preps who like to wake up at 7am and go to bed early.

I saw a girl on the bus repeatedly swirling her apple in caramel. First I thought, "from now on, caramel will be referred to as 'caramel sauce'." Then I thought, "caramel apples are the perfect breakfast treat, because they have the outside crunchy sweetened deliciousness of caramel on the outside, and the nutritiousness of apple on the inside. They also have all the convenience of being food on a stick." That's when I grabbed that poor girls apple and made her watch me eat it as my eyes glazed over with ill-bent pleasure.

Then I punched her in the face.

And she exploded.

2005-10-30T11:44:00.000-05:00

*Drops spoon on the floor*
-"Now you're going to have to get another one!"
-"....meh."

"Could you be a little less apathetic?"
"meh."

I realize that the fire lane isn't for fires but for fire trucks. But have you seen the fire lane? It's only about three feet wide. I don't claim to know a lot about fire trucks, but I know that's not enough room for one to pull over in. It seems like if normal folk can get a ticket for parking in the fire lane, firemen should get a ticket for parking outside of the fire lane.

Don't you ever wish, when you see that fire on the news, that it just goes completely out of control? Aren't you really rooting for the fire? I mean, it's not like I want firemen to die, but they're putting out my fire.--something like that from George Carlin

2005-10-30T11:12:00.000-05:00

Whenever I put on socks, they usually vary from foot to foot.

I went for an hour run yesterday, but it was Holloween and a kid tried to run with me while poking me with plastic swords and I punched him in the chest by default.

Discoveries

2005-10-30T00:17:00.000-04:00

The point of being batman is to be able to jump from really high up places to low ones and back up.

There's no wrong way to eat a kid named Reese.

If you uppercutted a giraffe, you would really take it by surprise.

The next time someone suggests I "fight fire with fire," I'm going to tell them about that lengthy talk the fireman gave me on why that was wrong.
Right after Chemistry Lab, I lick my fingers to ingest the chemicals and increase my chances of gaining super powers.

I should stop saying, "haha, idiot" out loud to people I don't know when I see them do something foolish.

Always, always, ALWAYS replace the word "crap" with dump or poo as in: "holy dump!" or "what the poo?"

I've gone crazy, but in a good way.

2005-10-29T21:50:00.000-04:00

To sleep is to pass the opportunity to experience.
But, it is preparation.
Get high by living on the edge, getting cut, and thinking of jumping off.
Do as Rulloff and kill,
outtalk the lesser and challege everything like EA games.
That's all that it is, only bigger.
The option to quit is taken by few, but playing meekly by many more.
Hardcore players I hate, taking it too seriously to enjoy,
mocking those they beat.
Play it casual.

2005-10-29T21:21:00.000-04:00

The insanity plea goes well with a side of crime.
What about those who feel fine inside?
There's no respite for the jealous.
Who here knows what it is to have your heart ache
over someone you know you can't take?
Rules of society cannot simply be banished
when your own values clash.
Living a life would be much easier the second time
when you know the decisions you should have made
and the outcomes of those that were not.
Arguments with a best friend are vivid and hostile,
knowing it's you wipes away your smile.
Because it's you and me.
The music of your mind keeps you company,
and your thoughts diverge from the ordinary to amuse you.
Do this while you walk to a place you must go,
living always in the moment, while the future approaches slow--
impending, like the doom of a rolling boulder
down a tunnel of which there is no escape.
Temptation favors the loud and the confident,
the risk takers and those unafraid.
A loss for them won't change their age.
How can you experience life watching others smile,
struggle and work for the things we desire,
knowing what you want but too pissed off to change?
Being a gentleman is your abomination,
there is no one high above who sees
the worth in you when you're on your knees.
Whatever we have we will always want more,
and your daily routine seems out of place
with what you want to be.
Uncertainty reigns in this world of ours,
and jerks who need a punch in the face.
Be thankful for intelligence?
My thoughts ruin me each day, saved only
by rationalization, pressure and hope.
But hope does not only press us to live on;
it makes us err to chance at something better.
So I scream at the howling wind, "FUCK YOU!"
but only on my pillow, in the unhearing void
of dreams.