Currently Watching: Being Human
I haven't posted in a while, because frankly I haven't really had any thoughts in a while. My head is an empty void.
To make up for it, here is (in accordance with Wired's less than 500K views rule*) a series of YouTube videos I have recently fallen in love with.
I bring to you, Marbles Harsgrove:
Marbles seems to have disappeared after this last video, from early 2008.
*This month's Wired has a section with Brad Pitt's tips for the digital gentleman. One of these rules is the never post anything with more than 500,000 views, at the risk of being on the tail end of what may be a very brief fad. If it's less than 500K, it hasn't really exploded yet.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
The Greatest Hour Of Television I've Ever Seen
Currently Watching: Aqua Team Hunger Force
As I've discussed -- at length-- Lost is my favorite TV show. I am obsessed. I am in various stages of watching the show; new episodes on ABC, random episodes online and the two syndication cycles on SciFi channel (SyFy as of next Tuesday). So if you asked me the best show on TV, I would answer "Lost".
The best episode of TV, however, will not be found in Lost. There are some extremely good episodes of Lost, but none have really stuck with me like this one episode of Law and Order SVU.
I watched it during one of those SVU marathons back when I could stand to watch the show, about four years ago. I had just gotten a satellite receiver in my room, and had similarly just gotten sick, so I was sprawled out in my bed all day, watching the conveniently timed marathon.
The episode starts out with two people arguing in a car. The conversation is brought to an abrupt end when a body lands on the windshield. He's been thrown from a roof and, as we find out later, castrated. The cops find out that he was on the roof to rape, and was forcing a woman to fellate him before she chomped it off and threw him from the roof. She fled, leaving them without a victim, so they look around, and the episode wastes some time developing some shelter-dweller's story. She may have been on the show before, and that's why the characters and writers cared. I didn't. Something about a nun? There was a mildly attractive nun on several episodes, and this may have been one.
Finally the cops end up at a prep school, where there is an extracurricular graffiti-ing team, but unfortunately the team does not abide by Title 9, so homely girl is excluded. To prover herself, she climbs on top of the building from earlier to spraypaint a visible-yet-inaccessible billboard. Halfway through, rape. Dick bite. Cut and dry, until forensics reveal the saliva on the penis was a male's. This is where it gets interesting.
Homely girl has a twin brother, whose DNA is a perfect match. Obviously he was the dick chomper. But he's got an alibi, and it checks out, so it's not him.
It WAS the sister, except she's not a sister. She was born a male, but during circumcision, they took a little too much off the top, and it was decided to just go all-in. That's right, circumstration.
And (s)he didn't know, thanks to the dilligent hormone therapy of the family doctor, who sees the twins with some frequency. Also, has sex with the twins with some frequency. The investigation brings this to light; the jig is up.
Then the doctor turns up dead. There's some DNA on the body, but it matches both twins, and they're not talking. As the cops bemoan their inability to move forward without any other evidence, we see the twins in separate interrogation rooms, with their heads against the wall, communicating telepathically, as twins do.* DUN DUN.
That shit give me more nightmares than spiders on Lost ever could. Creepy kids are the pinnacle of terror.
*I do not trust twins and their twin talk in the same way that I don't trust people with heavily tinted windows; what's going on in there that we're not allowed to know about.
Also, yes, you did just read a post that was just an SVU recap. I'm sorry.
As I've discussed -- at length-- Lost is my favorite TV show. I am obsessed. I am in various stages of watching the show; new episodes on ABC, random episodes online and the two syndication cycles on SciFi channel (SyFy as of next Tuesday). So if you asked me the best show on TV, I would answer "Lost".
The best episode of TV, however, will not be found in Lost. There are some extremely good episodes of Lost, but none have really stuck with me like this one episode of Law and Order SVU.
I watched it during one of those SVU marathons back when I could stand to watch the show, about four years ago. I had just gotten a satellite receiver in my room, and had similarly just gotten sick, so I was sprawled out in my bed all day, watching the conveniently timed marathon.
The episode starts out with two people arguing in a car. The conversation is brought to an abrupt end when a body lands on the windshield. He's been thrown from a roof and, as we find out later, castrated. The cops find out that he was on the roof to rape, and was forcing a woman to fellate him before she chomped it off and threw him from the roof. She fled, leaving them without a victim, so they look around, and the episode wastes some time developing some shelter-dweller's story. She may have been on the show before, and that's why the characters and writers cared. I didn't. Something about a nun? There was a mildly attractive nun on several episodes, and this may have been one.
Finally the cops end up at a prep school, where there is an extracurricular graffiti-ing team, but unfortunately the team does not abide by Title 9, so homely girl is excluded. To prover herself, she climbs on top of the building from earlier to spraypaint a visible-yet-inaccessible billboard. Halfway through, rape. Dick bite. Cut and dry, until forensics reveal the saliva on the penis was a male's. This is where it gets interesting.
Homely girl has a twin brother, whose DNA is a perfect match. Obviously he was the dick chomper. But he's got an alibi, and it checks out, so it's not him.
It WAS the sister, except she's not a sister. She was born a male, but during circumcision, they took a little too much off the top, and it was decided to just go all-in. That's right, circumstration.
And (s)he didn't know, thanks to the dilligent hormone therapy of the family doctor, who sees the twins with some frequency. Also, has sex with the twins with some frequency. The investigation brings this to light; the jig is up.
Then the doctor turns up dead. There's some DNA on the body, but it matches both twins, and they're not talking. As the cops bemoan their inability to move forward without any other evidence, we see the twins in separate interrogation rooms, with their heads against the wall, communicating telepathically, as twins do.* DUN DUN.
That shit give me more nightmares than spiders on Lost ever could. Creepy kids are the pinnacle of terror.
*I do not trust twins and their twin talk in the same way that I don't trust people with heavily tinted windows; what's going on in there that we're not allowed to know about.
Also, yes, you did just read a post that was just an SVU recap. I'm sorry.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Giant Spiders
Currently Watching: Outbreak
I wouldn't consider myself an arachnophobe. I don't hate spiders. I don't like them by any means, and I won't seek them out, but they don't send me on top of chairs when I see one.
But judging by the dreams I've had about spiders, I'd say they may be the greatest irrational fear I have.
The last time I had a nightmare about spiders, it was after I watched the episode Exposeeee, of Lost. I dragged out the e because I can't do accents, despite the best efforts of every Spanish teacher I've ever had. For the uninitiated, that episode is about two minor characters and they're arguing and lying and backstabbing, and at the end they're both bitten by spiders. First, the girl throws a spider on the guy, and then another one shows up and bites her. Except these spiders don't kill, they just paralyze. Except no one else on the Island (who is alive) knows this, so everyone assumes they are dead and the couple is buried alive. And right before the others start shovelling, HER EYES OPEN.
Oh, the terror.
And I had a nightmare that night, about being bitten by spiders while being underground. Obviously my subconcious wasn't paying too much attention during the show.
Then last night I had another spider-mare. I can't remember it nearly as vividly as the Lost dream, but I do remember man-sized spiders chasing me and characters from Indiana Jones (spoiler alert: Sallah got eaten). And at the end, Indy and I defeated the spiders, except I knew that it was only a temporary victory and that mankind would some day die at the hands of these arachnids.
Now, I'm a believer in interpreting dreams, and the first spider dream makes sense; I was just re-capping an episode of Lost I'd seen hours prior.
But what the hell does the second one mean?
I wouldn't consider myself an arachnophobe. I don't hate spiders. I don't like them by any means, and I won't seek them out, but they don't send me on top of chairs when I see one.
But judging by the dreams I've had about spiders, I'd say they may be the greatest irrational fear I have.
The last time I had a nightmare about spiders, it was after I watched the episode Exposeeee, of Lost. I dragged out the e because I can't do accents, despite the best efforts of every Spanish teacher I've ever had. For the uninitiated, that episode is about two minor characters and they're arguing and lying and backstabbing, and at the end they're both bitten by spiders. First, the girl throws a spider on the guy, and then another one shows up and bites her. Except these spiders don't kill, they just paralyze. Except no one else on the Island (who is alive) knows this, so everyone assumes they are dead and the couple is buried alive. And right before the others start shovelling, HER EYES OPEN.
Oh, the terror.
And I had a nightmare that night, about being bitten by spiders while being underground. Obviously my subconcious wasn't paying too much attention during the show.
Then last night I had another spider-mare. I can't remember it nearly as vividly as the Lost dream, but I do remember man-sized spiders chasing me and characters from Indiana Jones (spoiler alert: Sallah got eaten). And at the end, Indy and I defeated the spiders, except I knew that it was only a temporary victory and that mankind would some day die at the hands of these arachnids.
Now, I'm a believer in interpreting dreams, and the first spider dream makes sense; I was just re-capping an episode of Lost I'd seen hours prior.
But what the hell does the second one mean?
Monday, June 22, 2009
This Post Now With 100% Less Relevant Title
Currently Listening To: Saturday Night by Kaiser Chiefs, a sophomore-year classic
Tonight was a big night in our house -- the "big announcement" episode of Jon and Kate.
My littlest sister was going to watch it later -- she and a friend were occupied with something else -- but my older-younger (I have long struggled with how to differentiate between the two of them without using names, for when I'm talking to people who don't know my sisters) sister was ready to watch now. Junior (as I've taken to calling her lately; youngest is Nugget) was ready to watch now, so she came in to my room.
Blame it on my short attention span, but I was on my laptop while watching TV. Five minutes in to the TV, I saw on IMDb that the "big announcement" had leaked early. I clicked on the headline, which led to a page with all of IMDb's related articles. The first to catch my eye was a Huffington Post article begging readers not to support this show any more.
So I didn't.
Normally I try not to be so swayed by someone else's opinion. While I'm not of the mind that there's always two sides to a story (sometimes people are just right), I do like to weigh options. But I saw "don't watch" and was just compelled. Huffington Post's reason for the boycott was the Helen Lovejoy argument. I don't subscribe to Helen Lovejoy's beliefs; fuck the children. The reason I didn't watch is because my recent obsession with this has made me into a hypocrite. This is a reality show. I don't watch reality shows.
Now, I am not completely averse to documentary shows. I love Anthony Bourdain's show, and really any travel shows. Anything that isn't hyped on drama, which is exactly what Jon and Kate has strayed from, unlike the other sideshow-shows on TLC (I'm looking at you, Midget House 1 and Midget House 2). Jon and Kate has become the Hills. It's not about "How does a normal couple deal with the day-to-day of a large family?" anymore. The episodes are no longer, "This week, how they deal with shopping," et cetera. It's now half-soap opera ("Will they or won't they?" I have LOST for that, thanks so much), half rich-people-day-to-day. As happy I am that they now no longer face financial problems, the fact that they no longer deal with penny-pinching and coupon clipping (and thus there is no need for a shopping episode) has driven the human element from the show. They aren't normal people any more.
So I turned it off five minutes in. National Geographic had a show on about the history of the US and Iran's relations, so I went for that.
Junior asked me if I was retarded. Then she left.
Tonight was a big night in our house -- the "big announcement" episode of Jon and Kate.
My littlest sister was going to watch it later -- she and a friend were occupied with something else -- but my older-younger (I have long struggled with how to differentiate between the two of them without using names, for when I'm talking to people who don't know my sisters) sister was ready to watch now. Junior (as I've taken to calling her lately; youngest is Nugget) was ready to watch now, so she came in to my room.
Blame it on my short attention span, but I was on my laptop while watching TV. Five minutes in to the TV, I saw on IMDb that the "big announcement" had leaked early. I clicked on the headline, which led to a page with all of IMDb's related articles. The first to catch my eye was a Huffington Post article begging readers not to support this show any more.
So I didn't.
Normally I try not to be so swayed by someone else's opinion. While I'm not of the mind that there's always two sides to a story (sometimes people are just right), I do like to weigh options. But I saw "don't watch" and was just compelled. Huffington Post's reason for the boycott was the Helen Lovejoy argument. I don't subscribe to Helen Lovejoy's beliefs; fuck the children. The reason I didn't watch is because my recent obsession with this has made me into a hypocrite. This is a reality show. I don't watch reality shows.
Now, I am not completely averse to documentary shows. I love Anthony Bourdain's show, and really any travel shows. Anything that isn't hyped on drama, which is exactly what Jon and Kate has strayed from, unlike the other sideshow-shows on TLC (I'm looking at you, Midget House 1 and Midget House 2). Jon and Kate has become the Hills. It's not about "How does a normal couple deal with the day-to-day of a large family?" anymore. The episodes are no longer, "This week, how they deal with shopping," et cetera. It's now half-soap opera ("Will they or won't they?" I have LOST for that, thanks so much), half rich-people-day-to-day. As happy I am that they now no longer face financial problems, the fact that they no longer deal with penny-pinching and coupon clipping (and thus there is no need for a shopping episode) has driven the human element from the show. They aren't normal people any more.
So I turned it off five minutes in. National Geographic had a show on about the history of the US and Iran's relations, so I went for that.
Junior asked me if I was retarded. Then she left.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Creepy Kid In Checkout Line
I was in line today at the Terget... I was buying a shirt because I was all sweaty and I don't manage money very well. Seriously, twice I bought underwear instead of doing laundry while off at school. I'm terrible, and thus I'm broke.
But back to business. I'm in line at the check-out, shirt in hand. In front of me is a woman with a cart, and there's a kid in the seat in that cart. And he's staring at me. I normally don't like it when people stare at me (does anyone?) but this kid was particularly unsettling. He wasn't staring, he was staring daggers; he was glaring at me.
So I'm alternating between looking away (because like I said, staring makes me uncomfortable) and looking at the kid to see if he's still staring. I don't know, in case he jumped me or something. You never know, a three year old could have a knife on him.
But he kept staring. He was like determined. To stare at me.
And finally he starts talking (toddlers can talk? Whaaaa?) He says "Boo boo" and starts rubbing his forehead. A forehead that is clearly untouched; he's talking about my forehead. He stops saying boo boo and starts shouting it. This kid is freaking out about the "boo boo" on my head. To the best of my knowledge, there is nothing wrong with my forehead, and there wasn't anything wrong with it six hours ago.
What the hell was that kid talking about?
I may never know.
But back to business. I'm in line at the check-out, shirt in hand. In front of me is a woman with a cart, and there's a kid in the seat in that cart. And he's staring at me. I normally don't like it when people stare at me (does anyone?) but this kid was particularly unsettling. He wasn't staring, he was staring daggers; he was glaring at me.
So I'm alternating between looking away (because like I said, staring makes me uncomfortable) and looking at the kid to see if he's still staring. I don't know, in case he jumped me or something. You never know, a three year old could have a knife on him.
But he kept staring. He was like determined. To stare at me.
And finally he starts talking (toddlers can talk? Whaaaa?) He says "Boo boo" and starts rubbing his forehead. A forehead that is clearly untouched; he's talking about my forehead. He stops saying boo boo and starts shouting it. This kid is freaking out about the "boo boo" on my head. To the best of my knowledge, there is nothing wrong with my forehead, and there wasn't anything wrong with it six hours ago.
What the hell was that kid talking about?
I may never know.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Comment Section
Currently Listening To: Cuddle Fuddle by Passion Pit
This whole web 2.0 nonsense (and yes, I realize that would include, say, my facebook, youtube and blogspot accounts) is based upon user-created content. And you know, there is some stuff of value coming from it. Every so often I'll see a funny or insightful video on youtube, or read something of interest on blogger, and facebook is good for keeping in touch with friends over the summer and planning events during the year, and also talking shit about people I know with other people I know.
But then I'll read an article on a news site. Pick any news site. Almost all of them do it. At the bottom there will be a comment section, and nothing thoughtful or coherent will be contained within. If the article in anyway references politics (or even if it doesn't), within five comments it will have been reduced to "liberls r ritarded" "no conservitivez sukkk big tyme" "no u guse r pansies GO 2 FRANCE!!!" "hay fuck u racist"
I actually really enjoyed typing that.
But I digress. The four comments leading up to that disintegration will more than likely be "first". You'd think that only the first one would say that, and then the second would say second and so on an so forth, but usually they will all say first because people are so refresh-happy that that will all see the article the second it is published and immediately and simultaneously head for the comment box. That's my first issue with the "first" phenomenon. My second is, as I'm sure everyone else who isn't guilty of this nonsense, "How on earth is this in anyway relevant to the discussion?" Very rarely do these ever have anything beyond the "first". They just leave it that. Never a "first"+"The Great American YouTube Comment".
Web 2.0 has given voice to the voiceless, and shown why they were voiceless to begin with; they had nothing to contribute.
And yet, the once-respectable news sources like CNN have been reduced to asking what we think. To consulting twitter, to giving polls and asking for viewer videos. The results on this rap are then presented alongside the news. The already non-news Letterman-makes-a-joke-about-Palin's-daughter bit becomes even less interesting when I hear that it's only still on Fox News' homepage because 60% of readers think his apology wasn't enough. The news shouldcover events. This story skidded to a halt when Palin accepted the apology... but now they've left it open-ended.
I suppose, as dearest freshman year at college has taught me, I should suggest some sort of solution. I don't have one. At least, one that doesn't evovle removing these people from the gene pool. It's only like this because people eat this shit up. Ooh, CNN wants my video. CNN should have specified; they need your video or your tweet when you're on the scene of the downed plane or the riots in Tehran, not when you have some inane commentary. They've already got guys for that.
This whole web 2.0 nonsense (and yes, I realize that would include, say, my facebook, youtube and blogspot accounts) is based upon user-created content. And you know, there is some stuff of value coming from it. Every so often I'll see a funny or insightful video on youtube, or read something of interest on blogger, and facebook is good for keeping in touch with friends over the summer and planning events during the year, and also talking shit about people I know with other people I know.
But then I'll read an article on a news site. Pick any news site. Almost all of them do it. At the bottom there will be a comment section, and nothing thoughtful or coherent will be contained within. If the article in anyway references politics (or even if it doesn't), within five comments it will have been reduced to "liberls r ritarded" "no conservitivez sukkk big tyme" "no u guse r pansies GO 2 FRANCE!!!" "hay fuck u racist"
I actually really enjoyed typing that.
But I digress. The four comments leading up to that disintegration will more than likely be "first". You'd think that only the first one would say that, and then the second would say second and so on an so forth, but usually they will all say first because people are so refresh-happy that that will all see the article the second it is published and immediately and simultaneously head for the comment box. That's my first issue with the "first" phenomenon. My second is, as I'm sure everyone else who isn't guilty of this nonsense, "How on earth is this in anyway relevant to the discussion?" Very rarely do these ever have anything beyond the "first". They just leave it that. Never a "first"+"The Great American YouTube Comment".
Web 2.0 has given voice to the voiceless, and shown why they were voiceless to begin with; they had nothing to contribute.
And yet, the once-respectable news sources like CNN have been reduced to asking what we think. To consulting twitter, to giving polls and asking for viewer videos. The results on this rap are then presented alongside the news. The already non-news Letterman-makes-a-joke-about-Palin's-daughter bit becomes even less interesting when I hear that it's only still on Fox News' homepage because 60% of readers think his apology wasn't enough. The news shouldcover events. This story skidded to a halt when Palin accepted the apology... but now they've left it open-ended.
I suppose, as dearest freshman year at college has taught me, I should suggest some sort of solution. I don't have one. At least, one that doesn't evovle removing these people from the gene pool. It's only like this because people eat this shit up. Ooh, CNN wants my video. CNN should have specified; they need your video or your tweet when you're on the scene of the downed plane or the riots in Tehran, not when you have some inane commentary. They've already got guys for that.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Juno Betrayed
I'm watching Juno on HBO. Haven't seen it in a while, and at and hour and ten minutes in, I'm reminded why I don't rewatch this movie as often as I do some of my other favorites.
Jason Bateman's betrayal floors me every time. I suppose it isn't a betrayal the same way 006 betrays James Bond in Goldeneye, or something like that, but it still hits hard. This kid trusts him. Jennifer Garner (whom I loathe, except in this movie) trusts him. He fucks everything up! Enter my over-thought, self important analysis of this movie: Obviously it's about kids, being that it tracks a teenager's pregnancy. But beyond that, it's about grownups who are still kids. Juno, though a minor, is an adult in the freshman-year-biology-class sense of the word. She can reproduce. And yet, she is completely unaware of what a perv Bateman is, despite her stepmom's warning. Bateman himself is also a kid, thirty-something and still dreaming of being Cobain, as Jennifer Garner puts it, rather than wanting a family.
What's worse is Juno will probably find herself in the same situation as Jennifer Garner in ten years. Bleaker is obsessed with "the band", and in true childlike fashion, thinks of pregnancy in terms of being what "moms and teachers" do.
It's this level of douchebaggery that tell me that I really have changed after a year of college.
Jason Bateman's betrayal floors me every time. I suppose it isn't a betrayal the same way 006 betrays James Bond in Goldeneye, or something like that, but it still hits hard. This kid trusts him. Jennifer Garner (whom I loathe, except in this movie) trusts him. He fucks everything up! Enter my over-thought, self important analysis of this movie: Obviously it's about kids, being that it tracks a teenager's pregnancy. But beyond that, it's about grownups who are still kids. Juno, though a minor, is an adult in the freshman-year-biology-class sense of the word. She can reproduce. And yet, she is completely unaware of what a perv Bateman is, despite her stepmom's warning. Bateman himself is also a kid, thirty-something and still dreaming of being Cobain, as Jennifer Garner puts it, rather than wanting a family.
What's worse is Juno will probably find herself in the same situation as Jennifer Garner in ten years. Bleaker is obsessed with "the band", and in true childlike fashion, thinks of pregnancy in terms of being what "moms and teachers" do.
It's this level of douchebaggery that tell me that I really have changed after a year of college.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Sales Call I Had The Other Day
Tuesday morning, I'm sitting at the breakfast table. The phone rings. No one in our house ever wants to pick up the land-line; I hesitate.
Caller ID looks like its a sales call, but I pick it up any way.
At that very moment, I can hear my mom running to the phone upstairs, picking up the receiver at the very same instant that I do.
"Hello?" I ask.
"Hello?" the woman on the other end responds.
"H-Hello?" This awkward exchange seems to happen every time talk on the phone; how are you supposed to answer? "[surname] residence, [name] speaking"? I guess that makes sense. I'll try it next time.
The telemarketer starts her script. We've won a cruise, or there's a deal for refinancing the mortgage or something. There's a wide variety of subjects covered by these calls, but they all run together in my mind. She gets a few sentences in before I hear a click. My mother gave up, and hung up the phone.
There's a pause.
"WELL FUCK YOU MOTHERFU--" click
I'm going to try and time my picking up these calls such that I get to hear that every time we get a sales call.
Caller ID looks like its a sales call, but I pick it up any way.
At that very moment, I can hear my mom running to the phone upstairs, picking up the receiver at the very same instant that I do.
"Hello?" I ask.
"Hello?" the woman on the other end responds.
"H-Hello?" This awkward exchange seems to happen every time talk on the phone; how are you supposed to answer? "[surname] residence, [name] speaking"? I guess that makes sense. I'll try it next time.
The telemarketer starts her script. We've won a cruise, or there's a deal for refinancing the mortgage or something. There's a wide variety of subjects covered by these calls, but they all run together in my mind. She gets a few sentences in before I hear a click. My mother gave up, and hung up the phone.
There's a pause.
"WELL FUCK YOU MOTHERFU--" click
I'm going to try and time my picking up these calls such that I get to hear that every time we get a sales call.
Friday, May 01, 2009
That's So Twitter
Currently Listening To: The Fear by Lily Allen
Everyone's all about twitter these days. CNN.com has it in at least one top headline daily (and it makes me puke... seriously. Missing children* are newsworthy compared to the Ashton Kutcher/CNN twitter-off). So if you don't know what twitter is, just ask me, dad.
But Twitter is, quite simply, twittarded. If you can say it in 140 characters, you don't have anything to say. And it shows. What you had for lunch, sitting in traffic, your American Idol live blog? No one needs to read that. And yes, blogs are equally as moronic, but I at least invest time in to this (when I actually write). Twitter = blog - content, so it's basically titles to blog posts. If it matters, you can expand on it.
But I digress. The minutia of Twitter has resulted in mon ami Johanna and I's "That's so Twitter". Whenever someone comes in the room and announces "I just finished a paper" or some similarly irrelevant comment, we reply, "That is so Twitter." It's code for "no one cares" but I can't say that because passive aggressiveness is in.
*Missing children are not newsworthy. Well, most of the time. They're newsworthy when they go missing, when they're found, when it goes to trial, etc. But Nancy Grace and whoever her counterparts on Fox and MSNBC shouting at parents, accusing them of the crime because goddammit she's Nancy Grace and if she didn't know this shit, why would she have a show?
Nancy Grace, we have a justice system for a reason. You are not Judge Judy and executioner, so stop pretending to be.
Everyone's all about twitter these days. CNN.com has it in at least one top headline daily (and it makes me puke... seriously. Missing children* are newsworthy compared to the Ashton Kutcher/CNN twitter-off). So if you don't know what twitter is, just ask me, dad.
But Twitter is, quite simply, twittarded. If you can say it in 140 characters, you don't have anything to say. And it shows. What you had for lunch, sitting in traffic, your American Idol live blog? No one needs to read that. And yes, blogs are equally as moronic, but I at least invest time in to this (when I actually write). Twitter = blog - content, so it's basically titles to blog posts. If it matters, you can expand on it.
But I digress. The minutia of Twitter has resulted in mon ami Johanna and I's "That's so Twitter". Whenever someone comes in the room and announces "I just finished a paper" or some similarly irrelevant comment, we reply, "That is so Twitter." It's code for "no one cares" but I can't say that because passive aggressiveness is in.
*Missing children are not newsworthy. Well, most of the time. They're newsworthy when they go missing, when they're found, when it goes to trial, etc. But Nancy Grace and whoever her counterparts on Fox and MSNBC shouting at parents, accusing them of the crime because goddammit she's Nancy Grace and if she didn't know this shit, why would she have a show?
Nancy Grace, we have a justice system for a reason. You are not Judge Judy and executioner, so stop pretending to be.
Friday, April 24, 2009
It's Apparent It's All Over
Currently Listening To: Not Fair by Lily Allen
Oh why hello there, blog. It has been quite a while.
I don't know whether it's been disinterest or business keeping me from updating my lil diary. Probably a little bit of both. Disinterest because I've become quite the little attention-deficit... dwarf. That's a good d-word. But yes, I've been well assimilated into the geezer's stereotype of the youtube generation of short attention spans... wait what. I mean seriously, I actually got distracted while typing this. Went to change the song on iTunes and lost my train of thought. Seriously?
Busy because, well, I tend to be doing shit this year a lot more than I have ever done in my entire life, like, combined. This college thing is working out quite well for me, if I do say so myself. While I may not always be galavanting around our nation's capital, I'm usually up to something. I've got a radio show (our last show of the year was tonight), I go to concerts a lot more than I used to, or I've got some scheme running... Three weeks ago I was trying to dye my hair with Kool Aid. That was quite an experiment, with many linens lost in battle. My green comforter has several red sploches on it.
In early March, my radio co-host Carrie and I begged for money to buy batwing hoodies from American Apparel. We put the change in a water-cooler jug and hauled all of this change down there. Paid in change! Poor Ralph Alston had to count out more than fifty bucks in coins. But I'll be damned if we didn't look trendy as hell.
I've really got little else to say, at least for now. Maybe I'll be struck with an inspirational burst sometime soon. Maybe?
Oh why hello there, blog. It has been quite a while.
I don't know whether it's been disinterest or business keeping me from updating my lil diary. Probably a little bit of both. Disinterest because I've become quite the little attention-deficit... dwarf. That's a good d-word. But yes, I've been well assimilated into the geezer's stereotype of the youtube generation of short attention spans... wait what. I mean seriously, I actually got distracted while typing this. Went to change the song on iTunes and lost my train of thought. Seriously?
Busy because, well, I tend to be doing shit this year a lot more than I have ever done in my entire life, like, combined. This college thing is working out quite well for me, if I do say so myself. While I may not always be galavanting around our nation's capital, I'm usually up to something. I've got a radio show (our last show of the year was tonight), I go to concerts a lot more than I used to, or I've got some scheme running... Three weeks ago I was trying to dye my hair with Kool Aid. That was quite an experiment, with many linens lost in battle. My green comforter has several red sploches on it.
In early March, my radio co-host Carrie and I begged for money to buy batwing hoodies from American Apparel. We put the change in a water-cooler jug and hauled all of this change down there. Paid in change! Poor Ralph Alston had to count out more than fifty bucks in coins. But I'll be damned if we didn't look trendy as hell.
I've really got little else to say, at least for now. Maybe I'll be struck with an inspirational burst sometime soon. Maybe?
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Resolve
Currently Listening To: In Step by Frankmusik
Last year I set out to make one-word titles for posts on here as much as possible. Of course, I subconsciously-simultaneously set out to post less, so see how that went. Hopefully this years resolutions will go better.
I was driving around last week, spending money I shouldn't have on things I don't need (stimulating the economy -- need to do less of that). I had taken my mom's Mustang out, because it's smaller and has the satellite radio, meaning I don't have to bring CDs and feed them in and out of the player. Except, now that Sirius has merged, they dropped a few channels I liked and muddied up the ones they kept, so I now pretty much only listen to BBC1, since it's unaffected. The host was talking about resolutions and said one of his was to learn to play the ukulele, which I decided was an awesome idea. I'm currently on the prowl for them, scoping out music stores when I drive and looking up prices online. I'd say this is my most-likely-to-succeed, I'd say.
in addition to wasting money less, I also need to find a job, both at school this semester and at home this summer. Ideally, I'd work at the Best Buy near campus, because that seems easy enough and that's where I waste the most money. Finding one on campus might be better, though; those seem to pay a bit above minimum wage, would look much better on a resume and would be more accomodating to my schedule, seeing as they wouldn't need me during the semester and on brakes, seeing as the student body, including myself, wouldn't be there. Yeah, that's probably the way to go.
A resolution that I've done before but will likely not follow through with is to stop washing my hair. It's really just an endurance test; how long before I become so disgusted with myself. I'm also going to grow my hair out, except that my understanding of... hair dictates that those two in combination will result in dreadlocks, and the washing will definitely re-commence at that point in time. Can I call not growing dreads a resolution? But I digress; not shampooing is being undertaken so I can style my hair without gel or hairspray, which I've very rarely done but now cannot do because of my eyebrow ring, and taken better care to clean that little bugger could be another resolution, but I really do need to do that and don't want to jinx it by putting it in bold.
Finally, I want to be more honest with people, and by that I mean be meaner to people. So instead of holding my tongue and abiding by the 'if you don't have anything nice to say' adage, I will tell people how I really feel. There's nothing wrong with this ideology; if anything, there's something wrong with being 'fake' and doing the smile and nod. Of course, I don't really believe that. I just want to be meaner to people.
So that's that. Any suggestions/one-ups? I'm always open to additional resolutions.
Last year I set out to make one-word titles for posts on here as much as possible. Of course, I subconsciously-simultaneously set out to post less, so see how that went. Hopefully this years resolutions will go better.
I was driving around last week, spending money I shouldn't have on things I don't need (stimulating the economy -- need to do less of that). I had taken my mom's Mustang out, because it's smaller and has the satellite radio, meaning I don't have to bring CDs and feed them in and out of the player. Except, now that Sirius has merged, they dropped a few channels I liked and muddied up the ones they kept, so I now pretty much only listen to BBC1, since it's unaffected. The host was talking about resolutions and said one of his was to learn to play the ukulele, which I decided was an awesome idea. I'm currently on the prowl for them, scoping out music stores when I drive and looking up prices online. I'd say this is my most-likely-to-succeed, I'd say.
in addition to wasting money less, I also need to find a job, both at school this semester and at home this summer. Ideally, I'd work at the Best Buy near campus, because that seems easy enough and that's where I waste the most money. Finding one on campus might be better, though; those seem to pay a bit above minimum wage, would look much better on a resume and would be more accomodating to my schedule, seeing as they wouldn't need me during the semester and on brakes, seeing as the student body, including myself, wouldn't be there. Yeah, that's probably the way to go.
A resolution that I've done before but will likely not follow through with is to stop washing my hair. It's really just an endurance test; how long before I become so disgusted with myself. I'm also going to grow my hair out, except that my understanding of... hair dictates that those two in combination will result in dreadlocks, and the washing will definitely re-commence at that point in time. Can I call not growing dreads a resolution? But I digress; not shampooing is being undertaken so I can style my hair without gel or hairspray, which I've very rarely done but now cannot do because of my eyebrow ring, and taken better care to clean that little bugger could be another resolution, but I really do need to do that and don't want to jinx it by putting it in bold.
Finally, I want to be more honest with people, and by that I mean be meaner to people. So instead of holding my tongue and abiding by the 'if you don't have anything nice to say' adage, I will tell people how I really feel. There's nothing wrong with this ideology; if anything, there's something wrong with being 'fake' and doing the smile and nod. Of course, I don't really believe that. I just want to be meaner to people.
So that's that. Any suggestions/one-ups? I'm always open to additional resolutions.
Monday, December 29, 2008
2008 Retrospective
Currently Listening To: The Kingdom, dir. by Peter Berg (no, I'm not really that pretentious but my brother and I were talking about the director so... suck it)
Now is typically the time for top-ten lists, but I can't find a broad enough topic to suit my needs, so I'm just going to list things, positive and negative, that relate to my general thoughts about the year
Now is typically the time for top-ten lists, but I can't find a broad enough topic to suit my needs, so I'm just going to list things, positive and negative, that relate to my general thoughts about the year
- Vampire Weekend is complete and utter shite and "if I could track down every copy of that album and smash it with a Viking warhammer...", to quote a great man (i.e., me). My dad asked me if I had heard of them tonight and I immediately clenched the armrests of my chair, turned my head and inhaled. I don't know what it is about this crappy 2008-version-of-Arctic-Monkeys -- WAIT, that's it. They're this years Arctic Monkeys. It's pure yuppie chow. Not really anything exciting, but everyone loves them and loves introducing them to people.
- If I read another Top 10 list describing M.I.A. as a breakout artist or Paper Planes as a new song, I will fucking snap. Arular was released four years ago, and that album got about the same initial promotion as Kala, which came out almost two years ago. Not new, people were just out of the loop. For fucks sake, she retired in the spring, before everyone (the ominous 'everyone', here meaning mainstream radio/music) was singing "I fly like paper".
- Coldplay. No one says they're new, so that's not my complaint. My complaint is really just that I HEAR SO FUCKING MUCH ABOUT THEM AND DESPITE MY EFFORTS, I COULDN'T GIVE FEWER SHITS. Violet Hill is a good song. I will concede that much. But THEY ARE FUCKING EVERYWHERE AND NO ONE SHOULD BE EVERYWHERE.
- The fact that all of this is just me saying "I don't know why but..." is problematic and highlights my inability to argue.
- I FUCKING LOVE HULU. Thanks be to God, Jesus, Moses, Mohammed and whoever else for this magical website. I watch shit all the time on there: Family Guy clips, Simpsons episodes, movies (Go being the latest; how did I turn my nose at that the first time I watched it?)
- College... I'm glad they invented that this year. I mean, I assume it's new. First time I've ever been, so it must be new.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The Girl From Twilight
Currently Listening To: Human by The Killers
So Twilight is the bee's knees these days, and now Kristen Stewart is on the cover of magazines and shit. People worship her. But my animosity for this hype machine aside, where have all these worshipers been? I had the biggest fuckin' crush on this girl when I was eleven... I saw Panic Room with my dad and brother and I was just like, "Hey... this girl is kind of cool. Wow, I have a penis," and from there, I don't even know. I kind of forgot about her... well, I straight up forgot about her, except when I watched Panic Room (which I used to do a lot), and now, everyone else is such a big fuckin' fan of this "star on the rise"... BITCHES I GOT MY FIRST CHUBBY TO THIS GIRL. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?
Let me just re-iterate that I was eleven at the time, as was she, so this was wholly kosher
So Twilight is the bee's knees these days, and now Kristen Stewart is on the cover of magazines and shit. People worship her. But my animosity for this hype machine aside, where have all these worshipers been? I had the biggest fuckin' crush on this girl when I was eleven... I saw Panic Room with my dad and brother and I was just like, "Hey... this girl is kind of cool. Wow, I have a penis," and from there, I don't even know. I kind of forgot about her... well, I straight up forgot about her, except when I watched Panic Room (which I used to do a lot), and now, everyone else is such a big fuckin' fan of this "star on the rise"... BITCHES I GOT MY FIRST CHUBBY TO THIS GIRL. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?
Let me just re-iterate that I was eleven at the time, as was she, so this was wholly kosher
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
No Title Necessary
Currently Listening To: The ecstatic shouting in the street
There's really nothing to say that hasn't already been said, but that doesn't mean I won't say it anyway.
This was the first election I voted in. My vote may not have counted (at least according to my understanding of how they deal with absentee ballots), but at the same time I am so proud to have been a part of this. At the start, I'll admit, I was nervous as I colored in each state on my crafty-fuckin' electoral map. 3-8 wasn't looking so hot. But by the time California came in, and we were sitting in that huge crowd in the Tavern on campus... I can't articulate how I felt. To be a part of something big, not only in that I voted for the guy, but also living out a night that my kids will one day ask me about. One of those days where you never forget where you were when it happened.
From there, we went down to the White House with the hopes of finding people celebrating (we did). The METRO ride downtown was even more exhilarating than the Tavern. Shouting, climbing on the poles... it was madness and yet no one said so much as a word about "proper metro etiquette".
Down at the White House (Barack's house), it was like a concert except there were no douchebags elbowing you in the stomach. Just people revelling in what they're experiencing.
It may be childish, but I'm really hoping at least one of the photographers who stole my soul this evening is going to put that picture in a textbook in the future so my kids can have a picture of their daddy drunk'n'disorderly in our nation's capital with a fauxhawk.
We've been hearing a lot about change... unfortunately you cannot use this type of change to pay cab fare back to campus. But he let us stop at an ATM.
Finally, to address "the other team"; first off, welcome to our world circa November 2004. It's a bitch, ain't it? But the pendulum will swing back with the next election cycle or two. It happens every time. In 2006, in response to Bush's re-election, congress went Dem. In 1994, in response to Clinton's election. That's just how it goes.
And were Obama socialist (not that the majority would know it, being that they don't have a proper working understanding of it), he would never be able to get far along enough to make the country socialist. Obviously there is a significant opposition to this very abstract and loose definition of socialism and were he to (no that he would) try and do anything, "the people" would act accordingly in 2010. The pendulum has swung back and forth all throughout history and it will continue to do so.
Next, as a former "loser" to the current "losing side", let's make sure no one is being hypocritical: scratch those "support the troops and our president" stickers off your car. You obviously meant "support our Republican president". There's nothing wrong with that, because I've got the same opinion but from the other side. Just keep in mind all those times you said/thought/shouted that when you bemoan Barack's election. Also, the "I'm moving to _____" stuff needs to end. Dems who wanted to move to Canada were at least planning to move somewhere more in line with their beliefs. Most other "modern" or "Western" countries I've seen named are more in the direction of what you claim to be leaving. Instead, why not do something? Start a republican moveon.org and load up your inboxes with crap you don't want to read. Seriously, moveon, I just wanted a fucking button and instead I got no Obama button and three e-mails a day.
Tonight was definitely top ten of my life (past, present and future), and as of now stands at number one.
Okay, I smell horrible. Good night.
Post-script: Saxby Chambliss is a disgusting human being for what he did to Max Cleland. Anyone who voted for the former, a walking piece of bile, cannot in good conscience claim that McCain's status as a war hero qualified him. Cleland gave up three of his limbs and yet people still voted for Chambliss after Sax compared Max to bin Laden. An eternity in hell being sodomized by broken glass bottles is too kind a fate for Saxby.
There's really nothing to say that hasn't already been said, but that doesn't mean I won't say it anyway.
This was the first election I voted in. My vote may not have counted (at least according to my understanding of how they deal with absentee ballots), but at the same time I am so proud to have been a part of this. At the start, I'll admit, I was nervous as I colored in each state on my crafty-fuckin' electoral map. 3-8 wasn't looking so hot. But by the time California came in, and we were sitting in that huge crowd in the Tavern on campus... I can't articulate how I felt. To be a part of something big, not only in that I voted for the guy, but also living out a night that my kids will one day ask me about. One of those days where you never forget where you were when it happened.
From there, we went down to the White House with the hopes of finding people celebrating (we did). The METRO ride downtown was even more exhilarating than the Tavern. Shouting, climbing on the poles... it was madness and yet no one said so much as a word about "proper metro etiquette".
Down at the White House (Barack's house), it was like a concert except there were no douchebags elbowing you in the stomach. Just people revelling in what they're experiencing.
It may be childish, but I'm really hoping at least one of the photographers who stole my soul this evening is going to put that picture in a textbook in the future so my kids can have a picture of their daddy drunk'n'disorderly in our nation's capital with a fauxhawk.
We've been hearing a lot about change... unfortunately you cannot use this type of change to pay cab fare back to campus. But he let us stop at an ATM.
Finally, to address "the other team"; first off, welcome to our world circa November 2004. It's a bitch, ain't it? But the pendulum will swing back with the next election cycle or two. It happens every time. In 2006, in response to Bush's re-election, congress went Dem. In 1994, in response to Clinton's election. That's just how it goes.
And were Obama socialist (not that the majority would know it, being that they don't have a proper working understanding of it), he would never be able to get far along enough to make the country socialist. Obviously there is a significant opposition to this very abstract and loose definition of socialism and were he to (no that he would) try and do anything, "the people" would act accordingly in 2010. The pendulum has swung back and forth all throughout history and it will continue to do so.
Next, as a former "loser" to the current "losing side", let's make sure no one is being hypocritical: scratch those "support the troops and our president" stickers off your car. You obviously meant "support our Republican president". There's nothing wrong with that, because I've got the same opinion but from the other side. Just keep in mind all those times you said/thought/shouted that when you bemoan Barack's election. Also, the "I'm moving to _____" stuff needs to end. Dems who wanted to move to Canada were at least planning to move somewhere more in line with their beliefs. Most other "modern" or "Western" countries I've seen named are more in the direction of what you claim to be leaving. Instead, why not do something? Start a republican moveon.org and load up your inboxes with crap you don't want to read. Seriously, moveon, I just wanted a fucking button and instead I got no Obama button and three e-mails a day.
Tonight was definitely top ten of my life (past, present and future), and as of now stands at number one.
Okay, I smell horrible. Good night.
Post-script: Saxby Chambliss is a disgusting human being for what he did to Max Cleland. Anyone who voted for the former, a walking piece of bile, cannot in good conscience claim that McCain's status as a war hero qualified him. Cleland gave up three of his limbs and yet people still voted for Chambliss after Sax compared Max to bin Laden. An eternity in hell being sodomized by broken glass bottles is too kind a fate for Saxby.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Currently Listening To: The Coolest Dog by Grand Buffet
The video pretty much speaks for itself.
The ideas expressed signify my being a maverick who will bring change, plus whatever Cynthia McKinney and Bob Barr's campaign slogans are.
To summarize for those who don't theytube, frat parties and GirlTalk concerts that were otherwise sexcellent were ruined by douchebags so we should create "things"/places that don't include them. Fuck those guys.
And Grand Buffet is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO good! Check it!
The video pretty much speaks for itself.
The ideas expressed signify my being a maverick who will bring change, plus whatever Cynthia McKinney and Bob Barr's campaign slogans are.
To summarize for those who don't theytube, frat parties and GirlTalk concerts that were otherwise sexcellent were ruined by douchebags so we should create "things"/places that don't include them. Fuck those guys.
And Grand Buffet is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO good! Check it!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Babylon AD Solved
I'm learning to use GIMP after a year of photoshop... the first of my experiments.
This was a pretty abysmal movie, but I thought of a solution to its issues: combine it with Mamma Mia.
But seriously, I paid 21 dollars to see it. That is a shame.
This was a pretty abysmal movie, but I thought of a solution to its issues: combine it with Mamma Mia.
But seriously, I paid 21 dollars to see it. That is a shame.
Friday, September 26, 2008
MY RADIO SHOW!
EVERY FRIDAY!
10-MIDNIGHT!
WVAU.ORG (it's streaming... so we can count listeners...)
Tonight is our first show, and I'm only just now hyping it.
That's how I roll.
10-MIDNIGHT!
WVAU.ORG (it's streaming... so we can count listeners...)
Tonight is our first show, and I'm only just now hyping it.
That's how I roll.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Social Experiments
Currently Listening To: Reruns of LOST on SciFi
Twice today, during conversations with various people, "it" was decided that some aspect of life here at college was just some remotely orchestrated social experiment. The first is my Asian Civilizations class. It meets Mondays and Thursdays around lunch time in the basement of the building with "biology" plastered on one of the columns. In addition to witnessing the major cultures of Southeast Asia, as I student in that class I will witness the complete breakdown and ultimate destruction of the human spirit. Let me explain; our professor is a grad student. She was informed she would be replacing the original professor less than a month before class. The textbook she's teaching from is not available in the bookstore, and it doesn't look likely that it ever will be. She's dependent on student discussion, being that she's ESL and often struggles with words, yet everyone has difficulty getting the readings from the web so we've got nothing to say; Asian Civilizations? More like Awkward Cilences. Anyways, watcher her just stand there is absolutely depressing, and she looks depressed when it happens. Like I said, by the end of the semester, she will be a shell of a person.
The second is one of the many places on campus to get food. "Getting food" goes as follows: you wait in line for your meal. You order your meal. You pay for your meal. You recieve your meal. Then you wait in another line, except that it's not a line, it's an amorphous blob of students clamoring for French Fries. Then you wait some more. When they finally produce the fries, it's like the zombie hoardes, a mad dash for that precious two, three bags of fries. Could this fuster cluck be avoided? Why of course, anyone with an ounce of logic could tell you so; simply give the students their fries with their meals. So the only logical explanation is that it is an experiment devised by the Psychology department to see what lengths to which college students will go to get fries. THE ONLY EXPLANATION.
I just saw a very, very disturbing commercial. Two girls walk up to their father. They've got that "Come play with us, Danny" quality about them. One says, "It's time, dad." Oh God, a period commercial. Wait! Even better; the girl produces from behind her back a box of Rogaine; "You'd make a great catch for some lady."
I'm not even going to dissect this any further, I'll just say that it is disturbing.
Twice today, during conversations with various people, "it" was decided that some aspect of life here at college was just some remotely orchestrated social experiment. The first is my Asian Civilizations class. It meets Mondays and Thursdays around lunch time in the basement of the building with "biology" plastered on one of the columns. In addition to witnessing the major cultures of Southeast Asia, as I student in that class I will witness the complete breakdown and ultimate destruction of the human spirit. Let me explain; our professor is a grad student. She was informed she would be replacing the original professor less than a month before class. The textbook she's teaching from is not available in the bookstore, and it doesn't look likely that it ever will be. She's dependent on student discussion, being that she's ESL and often struggles with words, yet everyone has difficulty getting the readings from the web so we've got nothing to say; Asian Civilizations? More like Awkward Cilences. Anyways, watcher her just stand there is absolutely depressing, and she looks depressed when it happens. Like I said, by the end of the semester, she will be a shell of a person.
The second is one of the many places on campus to get food. "Getting food" goes as follows: you wait in line for your meal. You order your meal. You pay for your meal. You recieve your meal. Then you wait in another line, except that it's not a line, it's an amorphous blob of students clamoring for French Fries. Then you wait some more. When they finally produce the fries, it's like the zombie hoardes, a mad dash for that precious two, three bags of fries. Could this fuster cluck be avoided? Why of course, anyone with an ounce of logic could tell you so; simply give the students their fries with their meals. So the only logical explanation is that it is an experiment devised by the Psychology department to see what lengths to which college students will go to get fries. THE ONLY EXPLANATION.
I just saw a very, very disturbing commercial. Two girls walk up to their father. They've got that "Come play with us, Danny" quality about them. One says, "It's time, dad." Oh God, a period commercial. Wait! Even better; the girl produces from behind her back a box of Rogaine; "You'd make a great catch for some lady."
I'm not even going to dissect this any further, I'll just say that it is disturbing.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Bathroom Finicky
Currently Listening To: My Roommate Listening to Rush
I have a confession.
Prior to college, I was deathly afraid of public toilets. It's just not right; rubbing your ass all over the same piece of real estate as God-only-knows how many other people? It's different at home. I know exactly who uses a toilet there, and I know that they, you know, bathe. Same thing at other people's houses. But public toilets? Fuck that.
Weirdly enough, I'm also comfortable with hotel toilets, even though, well, everyone knows about hotels. You know what I'm talking about. Nightline or whatever and the blacklights. God only knows how many hookers have gotten fucked on that hotel toilet, but still, I'll drop a deuce on it. Or in it, rather. On it is just wrong.
SPEAKING OF WHICH, or rather, BACK TO DORM-SHITTING. Since arriving here at school, I've conquered my fear of public toilets. It was pretty simple. The second day I was here I realized I wasn't going to be able to hold it in until Christmas break. Probably should have anticipated that.
So the toilet itself is no longer an obstacle. I'm still, and likely will always be, uncomfortable with other people in the bathroom. Half the people on our hall are guys*, and that's like 30 or so people, I think? Anyways 30 guys, 4 toilets. Odds are one is in use if you're in there. So lots of times, I go in there, see a closed door and turn right back around. I just can't do it. I don't want to hear other people go to the bathroom, and I don't want someone else to hear me go to the bathroom. It's just not right. And it's weird, because I'm really not all that prudish otherwise, just, going to the bathroom is... sacred.
And this week. Someone desecrated one of those toilets. He dropped a Sloppy Joe grenade in that toilet. People were executed for lesser crimes at Nurmeburg than the atrocity that took place in stall two. It was so bad that the cleaning lady put a black trashbag over the commode, and the next day there was a hole in it. The only way I can concieve of me doing something like that involves being dead at the end.
I could go all day.
Just thought you'd like to know.
Also, I turn 18 in less than a month. Shit. Pedophiles will no longer find me appealing.
*In late elementary school/early middle school, there was a sitcom that took place in a co-ed dorm. I distinctly remember my parents telling me that co-ed dorms were a myth, and yet here I am. TAKE YER LIFE LESSONS AND STUFF 'EM, PARENTS.
I have a confession.
Prior to college, I was deathly afraid of public toilets. It's just not right; rubbing your ass all over the same piece of real estate as God-only-knows how many other people? It's different at home. I know exactly who uses a toilet there, and I know that they, you know, bathe. Same thing at other people's houses. But public toilets? Fuck that.
Weirdly enough, I'm also comfortable with hotel toilets, even though, well, everyone knows about hotels. You know what I'm talking about. Nightline or whatever and the blacklights. God only knows how many hookers have gotten fucked on that hotel toilet, but still, I'll drop a deuce on it. Or in it, rather. On it is just wrong.
SPEAKING OF WHICH, or rather, BACK TO DORM-SHITTING. Since arriving here at school, I've conquered my fear of public toilets. It was pretty simple. The second day I was here I realized I wasn't going to be able to hold it in until Christmas break. Probably should have anticipated that.
So the toilet itself is no longer an obstacle. I'm still, and likely will always be, uncomfortable with other people in the bathroom. Half the people on our hall are guys*, and that's like 30 or so people, I think? Anyways 30 guys, 4 toilets. Odds are one is in use if you're in there. So lots of times, I go in there, see a closed door and turn right back around. I just can't do it. I don't want to hear other people go to the bathroom, and I don't want someone else to hear me go to the bathroom. It's just not right. And it's weird, because I'm really not all that prudish otherwise, just, going to the bathroom is... sacred.
And this week. Someone desecrated one of those toilets. He dropped a Sloppy Joe grenade in that toilet. People were executed for lesser crimes at Nurmeburg than the atrocity that took place in stall two. It was so bad that the cleaning lady put a black trashbag over the commode, and the next day there was a hole in it. The only way I can concieve of me doing something like that involves being dead at the end.
I could go all day.
Just thought you'd like to know.
Also, I turn 18 in less than a month. Shit. Pedophiles will no longer find me appealing.
*In late elementary school/early middle school, there was a sitcom that took place in a co-ed dorm. I distinctly remember my parents telling me that co-ed dorms were a myth, and yet here I am. TAKE YER LIFE LESSONS AND STUFF 'EM, PARENTS.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Sunglasses
Some ballin' shades I picked up in town today, at a flea market.
How is college, you might ask? Absofuckinglutely awesome. I've spent the past week riding the metro, talking to tramps 'n vagrants, pinching every penny, stealing produce from the cafeteria, eating French Fries at every meal, staying up until at least three every night and watching Arrested Development in the lounge. I am exactly where I need to be.
Of course, classes start on Monday so... This could all change. But then I've never liked school, so anything above "thinking about driving a spike through my skull" is an upgrade.
Jokes aside, I think I will like it. I've got this theory that when it comes to teens and "young adults", there are two types of people; high school people and college people, who each thrive in that respective era. High school people feel comfortable with the cliques, structure, secret parties and drama of high school, while college people feel more comfortable surrounded by like-minded people while busying themselves not sneaking around to do shit they want to and living on their own schedule with minimal parental influence (no bias on my part, of course).
I didn't enjoy high school. I've made that abundantly clear; I enjoyed (and still enjoy, at least until October, I suppose) the age, but not the school. I count myself among the college people, and would wager that most of the college people were in a similar position as mine in high school; we didn't factor into that Mean Girls hierarchy. I didn't say popular because popularity is, well, bullshit. "Popular Kids" are popular among their friends, and no one else, and the "Unpopular Kids" are popular among their friends, and no one else. Just because we as the "Unpopular Kids" and they as the "Popular Kids" didn't care about the other doesn't negate the others existence.
...Where was I going with this?
Oh. High School people don't necessarily dislike college; in fact they tend to love it. But what they love about it is nearly identical to what they had before. They still ignore the academic aspect and still think they're the fucking elite (Frats, anyone?), except now they don't live at home. They go to college with the people they went to high school with, both in the sense that they surround themselves with the same types of people (nothing wrong with that) and that they actually go to school with many of their classmates from high school (WHY? MEET SOME NEW PEOPLE YOU PLEBEIANS) .
Rambling again.
In summation, I, along with my fellow 'like-minded' people, are elite-r that the 'elites'.
Wait, what?
How is college, you might ask? Absofuckinglutely awesome. I've spent the past week riding the metro, talking to tramps 'n vagrants, pinching every penny, stealing produce from the cafeteria, eating French Fries at every meal, staying up until at least three every night and watching Arrested Development in the lounge. I am exactly where I need to be.
Of course, classes start on Monday so... This could all change. But then I've never liked school, so anything above "thinking about driving a spike through my skull" is an upgrade.
Jokes aside, I think I will like it. I've got this theory that when it comes to teens and "young adults", there are two types of people; high school people and college people, who each thrive in that respective era. High school people feel comfortable with the cliques, structure, secret parties and drama of high school, while college people feel more comfortable surrounded by like-minded people while busying themselves not sneaking around to do shit they want to and living on their own schedule with minimal parental influence (no bias on my part, of course).
I didn't enjoy high school. I've made that abundantly clear; I enjoyed (and still enjoy, at least until October, I suppose) the age, but not the school. I count myself among the college people, and would wager that most of the college people were in a similar position as mine in high school; we didn't factor into that Mean Girls hierarchy. I didn't say popular because popularity is, well, bullshit. "Popular Kids" are popular among their friends, and no one else, and the "Unpopular Kids" are popular among their friends, and no one else. Just because we as the "Unpopular Kids" and they as the "Popular Kids" didn't care about the other doesn't negate the others existence.
...Where was I going with this?
Oh. High School people don't necessarily dislike college; in fact they tend to love it. But what they love about it is nearly identical to what they had before. They still ignore the academic aspect and still think they're the fucking elite (Frats, anyone?), except now they don't live at home. They go to college with the people they went to high school with, both in the sense that they surround themselves with the same types of people (nothing wrong with that) and that they actually go to school with many of their classmates from high school (WHY? MEET SOME NEW PEOPLE YOU PLEBEIANS) .
Rambling again.
In summation, I, along with my fellow 'like-minded' people, are elite-r that the 'elites'.
Wait, what?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
It's Been A Month... Sorry
But holy shit, gang, I'm leaving tomorrow.
I was driving the other day and remembered last year when I posted about "Not knowing where I'd be sleeping a year from now". Haha, that shit is quaint.
But I'm leaving tomorrow.Starting Saturday night, I will be a resident of Washington, DC. And a college student. And fuck, I forgot to register for an absentee ballot. I'm going to the most politically active college campus in the nation and I'm not going to be voting? Huzzah, great planning.
But my shit is mostly packed. And at lunch tomorrow, I'm gone. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited; excited to be leaving Acworth, excited to be starting college, excited to be moving to DC. But I don't think any parting words of advice or sad goodbyes (haven't gotten any of those; rather cut off since I hit a deer with my car) could have prepared me for this.
Ryan doesn't live here any more.
Thinking back to that year-ago post, here's what's changed since then:
Everything that's occupied my mind in the past year has pretty much evaporated. Sometimes i wish I was level-headed enough to remember these little pearls of wisdom.
*In case you're worried, it was planned and mutual. Distance is... Well, it's not exactly a new obstacle, right? And we still talk, and write, and e-mail... So it's all good.
I was driving the other day and remembered last year when I posted about "Not knowing where I'd be sleeping a year from now". Haha, that shit is quaint.
But I'm leaving tomorrow.Starting Saturday night, I will be a resident of Washington, DC. And a college student. And fuck, I forgot to register for an absentee ballot. I'm going to the most politically active college campus in the nation and I'm not going to be voting? Huzzah, great planning.
But my shit is mostly packed. And at lunch tomorrow, I'm gone. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited; excited to be leaving Acworth, excited to be starting college, excited to be moving to DC. But I don't think any parting words of advice or sad goodbyes (haven't gotten any of those; rather cut off since I hit a deer with my car) could have prepared me for this.
Ryan doesn't live here any more.
Thinking back to that year-ago post, here's what's changed since then:
- I began senior year... Graduated. No longer a factor.
- Applying to college... Accepted, chose a school. No longer a factor.
- Got my license... Wrecked my car. No longer a factor.
- Got a girlfriend... We broke up.* No longer a factor.
Everything that's occupied my mind in the past year has pretty much evaporated. Sometimes i wish I was level-headed enough to remember these little pearls of wisdom.
"Everything I've had, one day,
will fall apart and fade away"
- Angelina, The Bravery
will fall apart and fade away"
- Angelina, The Bravery
*In case you're worried, it was planned and mutual. Distance is... Well, it's not exactly a new obstacle, right? And we still talk, and write, and e-mail... So it's all good.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
AP Scores
Currently Listening To: Hard to Beat by Hard-Fi
The exciting conclusion to a saga for which I'm sure people were hanging off the edge of their seats. Though I will admit that my heart was racing as I pulled the letter out of the mailbox; the envelope wasn't as I remembered it so I was expecting another "We couldn't grade it, expect your scores later", or a "We're not wasting postage on your results". That would suck.
Well, the ripple effect of some childish antics from my childhood, which has long since passed (More than two months ago!), I will be forced to take a math class, but I can count a science course or two out. Probably just one. If that. I'll have to see what this means for English... SUSPENSE!
Bee Tee Dubs, is anyone watching Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog? It is an absolute nerdgasm for so many reasons and I've got it archived on my iPod for future reference.
I fucking love NPH. I'd hit that. (Sorry, Adrienne, if you had to read that... And sorry you'll have to read the letter I'm writing in which I declare my love of Daniel Bruhl.
I am a terrible boyfriend)
The exciting conclusion to a saga for which I'm sure people were hanging off the edge of their seats. Though I will admit that my heart was racing as I pulled the letter out of the mailbox; the envelope wasn't as I remembered it so I was expecting another "We couldn't grade it, expect your scores later", or a "We're not wasting postage on your results". That would suck.
Well, the ripple effect of some childish antics from my childhood, which has long since passed (More than two months ago!), I will be forced to take a math class, but I can count a science course or two out. Probably just one. If that. I'll have to see what this means for English... SUSPENSE!
Bee Tee Dubs, is anyone watching Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog? It is an absolute nerdgasm for so many reasons and I've got it archived on my iPod for future reference.
I fucking love NPH. I'd hit that. (Sorry, Adrienne, if you had to read that... And sorry you'll have to read the letter I'm writing in which I declare my love of Daniel Bruhl.
I am a terrible boyfriend)
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Important Life Lesson?
Currently Listening To: Everyone's A VIP To Someone by the Go! Team
I generally consider myself to be a carefree guy; not in the sense that I frolic in fields of flowers while singing Julie Andrews songs, more so that often I just don't give a shit.
Generally, that may be the case, but now I really care. And not about the children. I care about me, and my future. No, not career options. I care about potentially not ever having to take a math class again, or potentially having to take Calculus.
Our story begins at Orientation, which I went to a few weeks ago. A lot of kids there were just talking ad nauseum about school and grades and shit. I suppose that's logical; we were at college orientation, and many/most of the kids there had just finished school. I, however, had already been out for a month, and even then I didn't enjoy talking about school. NEWS ALERT: It's boring. But all this talking usually wound up at talk about AP/IB scores and exempting classes. Now, I hadn't thought about that shit in ages, because I had long since come to the realization that AP was a waste of my time since schools are now so stingy about taking credits. But suddenly, without any real change except the prospect of taking Calc, that shit mattered.
Our story continues on July 1st, when I had a dream about AP scores. I woke up and got on the College Board website to see when they were available. Sure enough, July 1st. A reasonable person would say that my subconscious was just remembering date that was all over our AP shit back in May, but I know that it was actually a psychic experience. Because I'm great.
Anyways, they were available starting July 1st by phone, but I needed the packet with my student number on it. Hah! I threw that shit out once I finished my last test. But so now I have to wait until they mail it to me. Every day I eagerly sift through the mail looking for that envelope with the dopey acorn on it. That is the dumbest logo ever (pardon the hyperbole).
The anticipation is killing me. The first two years I really didn't care
but now, not only is there something hinging on the scores, but there's also reason to believe that I didn't do alright, and it's not the typical "I don't know what the fuck a Huegenot is!", it's "Why the fuck did I write that smartass answer?" and that applies to all four of my exams, not just one. Let's review:
Anyways, I done fucked myself over and will continue stressing until that letter comes. And yes, there's no sense worrying because it's pretty much set in stone now, but when have I ever learned any sort of life lesson?
I generally consider myself to be a carefree guy; not in the sense that I frolic in fields of flowers while singing Julie Andrews songs, more so that often I just don't give a shit.
Generally, that may be the case, but now I really care. And not about the children. I care about me, and my future. No, not career options. I care about potentially not ever having to take a math class again, or potentially having to take Calculus.
Our story begins at Orientation, which I went to a few weeks ago. A lot of kids there were just talking ad nauseum about school and grades and shit. I suppose that's logical; we were at college orientation, and many/most of the kids there had just finished school. I, however, had already been out for a month, and even then I didn't enjoy talking about school. NEWS ALERT: It's boring. But all this talking usually wound up at talk about AP/IB scores and exempting classes. Now, I hadn't thought about that shit in ages, because I had long since come to the realization that AP was a waste of my time since schools are now so stingy about taking credits. But suddenly, without any real change except the prospect of taking Calc, that shit mattered.
Our story continues on July 1st, when I had a dream about AP scores. I woke up and got on the College Board website to see when they were available. Sure enough, July 1st. A reasonable person would say that my subconscious was just remembering date that was all over our AP shit back in May, but I know that it was actually a psychic experience. Because I'm great.
Anyways, they were available starting July 1st by phone, but I needed the packet with my student number on it. Hah! I threw that shit out once I finished my last test. But so now I have to wait until they mail it to me. Every day I eagerly sift through the mail looking for that envelope with the dopey acorn on it. That is the dumbest logo ever (pardon the hyperbole).
The anticipation is killing me. The first two years I really didn't care
but now, not only is there something hinging on the scores, but there's also reason to believe that I didn't do alright, and it's not the typical "I don't know what the fuck a Huegenot is!", it's "Why the fuck did I write that smartass answer?" and that applies to all four of my exams, not just one. Let's review:
- Statistics: The experiment the man should try out is "Go get a girlfriend"
- English: A lengthy essay on how Nermal serves as a foil to the protagonist in Jim Davis' classic saga "Garfield"
- Environmental: Something about a kerosene lake in Portugal
- Spanish: My last essay was just a picture of a bus labelled "Spanish" running me over with various Spanish literary figures on board
Anyways, I done fucked myself over and will continue stressing until that letter comes. And yes, there's no sense worrying because it's pretty much set in stone now, but when have I ever learned any sort of life lesson?
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Fourth of July
Currently Listening To: One Pure Thought by Hot Chip
For some reason, I always seem to end up ranting about holidays for one reason or another; Independence Day is no exception.
In short, I have a problem with this holiday. And no, it has nothing to do with my attitudes toward patriotism, or the State of the Union or what have you; I just don't like how we celebrate.
Fireworks are
Well, no. I'm just not interested. Find something to liven up the shindig or kick to to the curb!!
Well, no. I love America. I just don't like fireworks.
For some reason, I always seem to end up ranting about holidays for one reason or another; Independence Day is no exception.
In short, I have a problem with this holiday. And no, it has nothing to do with my attitudes toward patriotism, or the State of the Union or what have you; I just don't like how we celebrate.
Fireworks are
- Not an American invention, nor are they strongly associated with America. Everyone shoots off fireworks.
- Fucking boring. You get like five colors and five "designs" or whatever. Thirty to forty-five minutes of alternating colors and styles? I'll pass.
- Not even exclusive to this particular holiday! Fireworks are also a New Years thing, in case you were completely oblivious.
Well, no. I'm just not interested. Find something to liven up the shindig or kick to to the curb!!
Well, no. I love America. I just don't like fireworks.
Monday, June 16, 2008
What's HAPPENING? Marky Mark and the Killer Trees
Perhaps I went against my word and saw it so I could make the "What's Happenin'?" pun. Fred Berry's rolling in his grave.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)