I don't know what's going on.
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Wednesday, December 18, 2002
Why am I such a fuckin' idiot? I find myself asking this question perhaps too often.
11:04 AM
Monday, December 16, 2002
So there is this webboard that I frequent, Pitchfork Media Smackdown. It's pretty interesting place, and I tend to waste good chunks of the day reading it. Anyway, there's this girl who posts there that really doesn't fit with the rest of the crowd. She's pretty retarded. A couple of months or so ago this girl, Valentine, gave pictures of her topless to another boarder, who in turn passed them around to other people from the board. Those that weren't special enough to recieve these pictures from someone else eventually complained and begged for them to be posted, so I decided that since she was stupid enough to put them on the internet, I'd post them for everyone to see. I did, and there was a great controversy in which the girl cried, and a lot of people complained that it wasn't right to do so, etc. They were taken down, and eventually everyone was able to laugh about it.
Cut to last night. This girl starts a thread about how sweet her mother is, to have sent her some form of online greeting. Somebody notices that she's accidentally exposed her mom's email to the entire board. She quickly realizes this and edits her post, but before she can do so I bookmark the link and copy her mom's email.
So basically, I'm sitting at my computer with her mom's email address. And two pictures of her giant, giant, bulbous breasts. You can probably guess the rest.
There really wasn't any other choice. I emailed both pictures to her mom. Board crisis ensues. Lots of people are upset, blah blah. Turns out the dumb girl actually had the password to her mom's email, but instead of just signing on and deleting it, she not only deleted her mom's entire account, but then called her mom to explain the whole thing. Man, stupid girls.
Anyway, you can find the thread if you wanna read all the details. Pretty damn funny.
11:21 PM
Catchphrases.
My roommate Nate and I share somewhat of a fondness for catchphrases. For a while now, the phrase of choice has been 'for serious.' It's still great, but like all things fresh material is always needed. So Nate came up with a terrific idea. Instead of using that lame and tired 'phat,' we'll use a synonym of 'fat' such as overweight, obese, portly, plump, corpulent, etc. Examples:
- "Yo, did you see that dunk? That shit was obese as hell!"
- "This chick in my history class gots the most hella corpulent breasts on the planet!"
- "Damn, that was the most overweight shit I ever saw!"
You can also mix it up, and create your own combinations of various other catchphrases.
- "Oh man, that was portly for serious!"
- "For serious, my ride's got the plumpest rims!"
- "Tight? That shit was obese like a motherfucker!"
We've got these friends who are in the habit of using 'stoopid' in their speech. This is an excellent catchphrase and it works quite will in combinations with others.
- "Yo that girl's ass was stoopid overweight."
- "We brought the stoopid for serious."
- "Damn, that was the most plumpest, for seriously stoopidest, mad portly fine piece of corpulent Jr. High ass I ever saw!"
- "Word, that shit tipped the scales!"
12:13 AM
Sunday, December 15, 2002
If one of those siamese twins that have two heads and one body masturbates, and they're both awake/excited, is it considered lesbian sex?
9:31 PM
Thanks to my friend Matthew Reese, I've discovered a means to bring pictures to this site, sort of. http://www.imagemagician.com lets you host a ton of free images, so I decided that I'm going to try and keep up with a Picture Of The Day of sorts. It will probably be more of a Picture Of The Past Three Days Or However Often I Update It, although I will do my best to keep it as up to date as possible. Note: As I have limited space for picture hosting, I'll probably replace the previous day's picture with the next, so they'll be lost forever. What I'm saying is, if you like the picture you'd better save it to your harddrive because it won't be there tomorrow.
9:06 PM
I ran into my brother today at a funeral. We had not seen one another for fifteen years, but as usual he produced a pig bladder from his pocket and began hitting me on the head with it. Time has helped me understand him better. I finally realized his remark that I am "some loathsome vermin fit only for extermination" was said more out of compassion than anger. Let's face it: he was always much brighter than me-- wittier, more cultured, better educated. Why he is still working at McDonald's is still a mystery to me.
8:35 AM
I think from now on, every Sunday I'm going to post a random thought from Woody Allen. I'd considered starting a Woody Allen blog and just post it all there, but it will give me filler when I really don't have anything to write about.
8:32 AM
Saturday, December 14, 2002
Another incredibly boring night of work. I worked the backup entrance to this parking lot again, and not a single car passed through. I could have gone home after they dropped me off. At one point I walked to the union and ate at Sbarros, and that was nice. It also provided me with good time for reading my new Woody Allen book, Without Feathers. This book is fuckin' great, and for the moment it has inspired me, so that's a good thing.
While I was at work, this dude on crutches with one leg came up and started talking to me. Basic chit chat shit, weather, the volleyball team (it was a volleyball game he was going to), etc. He was a really nice guy, and seemed to be really happy in life. Mid to late forties, maybe older. I can't imagine being happy in life with just one leg, crutching my way around everywhere. Eight weeks on crutches last year was tough enough, but to have to do that shit everyday for the rest of my life would be too much. I don't really know how the guy did it. The only good thing that I can think of that could come from gimping around on one leg is that you could wear one of those T-shirts with the sarcastic, in-your-face handwriting, and it could say, "I got my leg shot off in 'Nam. What's YOUR excuse??"
Man, that'd be so awesome to see a dude with one leg wearing a shirt like that.
7:50 PM
Friday, December 13, 2002
Current time: 2:38AM.
Current # of papers finished: 1
Current # of papers remaining: 9
Current # of projects finished: 0
Current # of projects remaning: 3
Current # of soft tacos ingested: 2
Current # of movies watched: 1
Turns out this shit wasn't even due until next Friday. This girl from my class that I'd emailed requesting information filled me in on that little fact, thank God. I told her thank you very much, and that if she was lying about this being due a week later I'd murder her.
12:32 AM
Thursday, December 12, 2002
Current time: 8:05PM.
Current # of papers finished: 1
Current # of papers remaining: 9
Current # of projects finished: 0
Current # of projects remaning: 3
Current # of soft tacos ingested: 2
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...
6:00 PM
Current time: 6:22 PM.
Current # of papers finished: 1
Current # of papers remaining: 9
Current # of projects finished: 0
Current # of projects remaning: 3
I'm going to prove you all wrong.
4:17 PM
Wednesday, December 11, 2002
A Conversation With Jake.
I'm 'I like cheeseburgers and I like vaginas.'
jake says:
i like vagina burgers with cock fries
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
Now you're talkin'! I prefer the spicy cock fries myself, but it's really all the same.
jake says:
spicy cock fries are only good with the mexican ball sauce
jake says:
which obviously is not in season
jake says:
so i just eat the regular cock fries dipped in man gravy
jake says:
then a slice of brown eye pie for desert
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
It appears you are quite a distiguished fellow! I am always excited to meet someone with such fine taste in the culinary pleasures.
jake says:
do you got homework?
jake says:
cause i do
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
I probably do.
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
Who knows.
jake says:
yeah i rather talk about cocks and vaginas anyway
jake says:
and placenta soup
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
If you keep talking like this you're going to give my stomach ideas!
jake says:
My stomach is getting ideas about some Chicken Fried Babies
jake says:
soaked in embryotic fluid
jake says:
i just love how their brittle bones crunch between my teeth
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
Yeah, I prefer to gum them myself.
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
Savor the flavor, and whatnot.
jake says:
mmmmm....babies
jake says:
im starting a new ad campaign
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
Mmmmm.... cheese.
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
I mean, babies.
jake says:
got baby?
jake says:
or baby, the other pink meat
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
What's the first pink meat?
jake says:
vaginas
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
Awesome.
jake says:
gee you missed two things saturday night
jake says:
some good chanting and mclain going down the stairs riding a cooler and crashing into the wall
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
Yeah I heard about that.
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
That fucker is a lot of fun.
jake says:
yes he is
jake says:
i wish i had my video camera for that
jake says:
that was one for the books
I like cheeseburgers and I like vagìnas says:
It would have been awesome.
Man I wish I could have seen McLain do that.
1:21 AM
Monday, December 09, 2002
Hey why the fuck is navel lint always blue? I don't get it.
3:37 AM
I have to find a way to become stranded on a tropical island. Like in Lord Of The Flies, only without all those crazy fuckin' kids. Just me, and maybe my computer. OK, fine, no computer. I'd need to be stranded for at least 6 months. I think I got the idea after watching Cast Away. I just remember thinking how fucking awesome that'd be. I mean, I wouldn't even need fuckin' Wilson to have a good time. He'd be fun, sure, but I wouldn't need him. I could paint my blood on just about anything there, and it'd be a lot nicer than some volleyball. I could have a whole cast of rock friends, each with his or her own facial expression and personality.
There'd be downsides, of course. I wouldn't get to see new movies, or hang out with my friends. But after a few months, that wouldn't matter because by then I'd have gone insane. Once crazy, it would all be cool because I wouldn't sit around and think all day. I'd dig holes in the sand in vain attempts at uncovering Ansel Adams' dead body, all the while carrying on conversation with Carrie, the hottest of my igneous rock friends.
I wonder if there is any way that I could arrange for this to happen. I wouldn't even know where to start looking.
3:32 AM
I got this friend, Jeff. Jeff's kinda fucked up, I think.
This one time he calls me and he's like, "What's up man? What're you doin'?" and I wasn't doing much of anything, so I'm like, "Yeah, not much dude. Just sittin' here, chillin' out." I really was just sitting and chilling out. I hadn't done much of anything all day. More or less like any other day, except for it wasn't day anymore, it was night. And Jeff had called me, which was strange because he really doesn't call me much.
So Jeff's like, "Dude, I'm really fucked up. Let's go to McDonald's." I was hungry, but I hate spending money on fast food until I'm in the fast food line, so I was like, "Shit, yeah. I suppose I'll roll with you. I can get a big drink or something." 44oz drinks are my one true addiction. It's a curse. For some reason, I have to have them whenever available. I don't know how to quit either. But that's not really related to the story.
So Jeff comes and picks me up, and yeah, he's wasted. I wanted to drive, but I didn't want to create an akward situation where things would get awkward between us. I just wanted to hang out and talk about shit and maybe get a big drink. OK, so getting the big drink was my main motivation for being in the car, but I was still worried about the present condition that Jeff appeared to be in. He doesn't look OK. If I had to describe his condition, I'd say he looks like shit.
Well we head off to the golden arches. He's driving OK. I start to relax. "So, what'd you do today?" I ask.
"Me and this kid got really fucked up," He mumbles.
"Oh." I say. I sit there for a while. The light a few blocks ahead turns from green to yellow. I don't say anything, but I start to worry that Jeff hasn't noticed/isn't prepared to stop for the light. I do that tense thing in my seat where I'm stupidly preparing for impact; like that dumb little muscle tightening procedure where I'm about to put my hands on the dash but I don't wanna look like a pussy. I turn my head to look at Jeff, but he's not even all there, at least it doesn't look like that. His eye's are bloodshot, his mouth hangs open. I think about saying something, but I decide against it. I don't really wanna be a passenger seat driver, or something like that.
We're a block or so from the light. 45 in a 35. I give a little grunt, then a "Dude." that's almost inaudible. He doesn't respond. I look at the light in the vain hopes that the bright crimson will give way to emerald deliverance, but it's a no-go. The light stays red. Jeff casually shifts down, and we come to a surprisingly smooth stop. I just kinda laugh at my worrying, and relax. We make a right and take a couple blocks to McDonalds. He wisely orders a two breakfast burritos meal. Me, I give in and super size a Big N Tasty meal. Turns out I really don't know much anyway, or so I hope.
That was a metaphor, or something. Ridiculous.
3:10 AM
Sunday, December 08, 2002
Oh shit, check this out:
Yesterday I was browing on Soulseek, this file sharing program, and I found this person who had accidentally used her 'My Documents' folder as her shared folder! Boo yah! I found this awesome picture of this guy and a girl sitting on a futon! Score!
5:02 PM
Saturday, December 07, 2002
While it's still up, you can read my new review of Punch Drunk Love at The Projector Booth. It really isn't a review of the movie, but what the hell. It's something new that I did, and I guess you could consider it being semi-productive. I haven't done much lately, but you might could check it out. Don't read the other one though, it's not very good.
I think I'm going to go watch Bottle Rocket on the big screen tonight at midnight. It won't be as cool as Taxi Driver was, and there's probably a good chance that a lot more annoying people show up, but it'll keep me dry for a night, and it should be pretty cool.
3:29 PM
Friday, December 06, 2002
I had a dream this morning, while I was drifting in and out of sleep, that I was in my bed and Nate was in the kitchen. He was ranting about something, and beating on the walls and stuff. I'm tossing and turning; I want sleep. He's really loud, so I tell him to shut up. He comes to my door, and bangs on it, screaming about being paranoid or something.
At this point I sit up, and yell back at him.
"Paranoid? Paranoid? You fuckin' idiot... the word is 'Maranoid!'" I reply. I'm convinced he's wrong. He keeps saying paranoid. I start throwing pillows and anything I can reach at the door, repeating, "Maranoid you imbecile! The word is Maranoid!"
When I woke up for real I couldn't decide whether this had actually happened, but after I asked him about it I concluded that it was just another strange dream.
4:04 PM
Thursday, December 05, 2002
It was fun while it lasted.
12:14 AM
Monday, December 02, 2002
The Rims Story
One day my mom came to town and picked me up, and we went shopping and ran some errands. It's not really important what we did, but I think we went to Sam's if you were really curious. Anyway, we're headed back to my place, and we're stopped at the light going south on 27th, waiting for the light to turn so we can turn left onto Holdredge. We're just sitting there, and this Jeep going east on Holdredge drives across in front of us. It was pimped out; green tinted piant job, lights, and skinny gold rims that resembled the spokes on a bicycle. My mom gasps.
"Whoa, what's that?" She asks, bewildered at the sight of such strange wheels.
"Huh?" I ask, not really sure what she's referring to. "The wheels..." she says, "They're really strange. What are they??"
I kinda laugh, "They're rims. Make your car pimped out, bling bling." I found it kinda funny that she'd never seen rims on an automobile before.
"Rims?" She asks. "R-I-M-S? Like 'rims'?" Haha... she'd never even heard of this. "Yeah," I say, "they're stupid. People put them on their cars to make them all pimped out, etc." "'Pimped out?'" She asks. "Yeah, it's dumb. They make they're cars all look nice and stuff, but the cars themselves are pieces of shit."
At this point, mom started to notice that most every car has different rims on its tires. "Whoa! Look at those!" she'd exclaim. "Oh, see those?" I was just laughing. It was like she had been introduced to a whole new world, and couldn't believe all this new stuff she was seeing. "Matthew, did you see those ones?" I was like, "Uh, yeah mom... most every car has... different... 'rims.'" I was kinda amazed at her reaction to all this.
Then she shakes her head, smiling, and says, "Man, this is great! I gotta start coming to town more often."
I GOTTA START COMING TO TOWN MORE OFTEN. Haha, oh man. As if Lincoln is some sort of hotbed for fancy looking rims or something. My mom sure is funny.
11:10 PM
Sunday, December 01, 2002
I recently added a message board to this site. You're welcome to post, but I'd like to keep the message board clean and somewhat unlike the rest of this blog. I'm hoping that this can be a place that we can go to discuss philosophy, our feelings, politics, and the intricacies of the universe. The link's on the left, hope to see you there!
8:46 PM
Saturday, November 30, 2002
The most bullshit phrase ever.
When the old man is dying, he says, "Johnny, let me tell you this... *cough, cough*... if I could go back, and do it all again, *sigh* I wouldn't change a thing. I wouldn't change a thing."
That's fuckin' bullshit. There's no way your life was that good.
If it was me, I'd change at least 75% of it. At least. That seems kinda sad though, when you think that I'm only 19.
10:35 AM
Sunday, November 24, 2002
Weekend.
Friday night was typical. I worked til 8 and hadn't had a night's sleep in two days. I was ready to party. Nate and I just went over to Whittier to hang out, and Tab and I ended up looking all night for this other party that Kevin and 600 other people went to.
At Whittier, we played some caps, which I still prefer to beer die. Beer die is the athletic drinker's beer game. Don't get me wrong; I'm as athletic as the next guy. My dad played for the Steelers so it's in the blood. The problem is that beer die requires way too much concentration. Games can go on forever, and you gotta be able to pay attention the whole time, as well as use lightning quick reflexes (reflexes that I naturally was blessed with) to catch the die before it hits the floor.
Caps, on the other hand, is more my kind of game. All you do is sit against a wall and throw caps in a cup. Pretty simple. It's so much more relaxed and easy going. You can talk while you're doing it, and you can space off when it's not your turn, if that's your thing. Plus, I'm much better at caps than I am at beer die, for some strange reason. Anyway, I played probably the best, and certainly most exciting, game of caps in my life.
The series was tied at 1-1, and Tab and I found ourselves in a hole 6-2 to Nate and Ann. We play to 7, so we were on the verge of being defeated. I turned to Tab and I said, "OK, time for a new strategy. Let's make points." "Good idea." replied Tab. I went on to hit 5 straight shots, and rimmed out on my 6th. This put us up at 7-6, and you must win by two. On my 7th shot, it hit the rim and as it was bouncing off the rim, Nate made a comment like, "Yeah, sink it. I dare you." Right after he said 'I dare you' the cap bounced from the floor and back into the cup. Fuckin' amazing. Ann missed the cancel, and we were victorious. Lots of fun.
The party that Tab and I finally found was on 5th and F, not 9th and F as Kevin had incorrectly stated. Man, it was nuts. Biggest party I'd ever seen, and by the time we got there people were clearing out. For blocks around, cars lined the streets. People were walking back and forth to the party and their cars, it looked like a downtown shopping area. There were easily a hundred people outside the house, with an extra fifty or so on the front porch. People were just pouring out of the house, it was insane.
Saturday was last night.
Thanks to Bono and Ashley Judd for paying for our keg! I scored 4 tickets to Bono/Judd's lecture here at UNL, and sold them for 20 bucks a piece. I could have gotten more, in retrospect, but as they were free I don't really care.
Pretty cool party, anyway. I'm too lazy to describe it. Colette came. I think I'll tell that story tomorrow.
2:02 PM
Monday, November 18, 2002
Whoa. This guy just up and messaged me on AIM. I have no idea who they are.
xCalmAsHinduCows: hey you fucking queer
xCalmAsHinduCows: what's wrong are you too busy getting it up the ass?
Deiter76: I'm never too busy for you.
xCalmAsHinduCows: oh so you are gay
xCalmAsHinduCows: is that you in your buddy icon
Deiter76: Don't jump to any conclusions just yet, Harold.
Deiter76: That's actually my nephew Carter.
xCalmAsHinduCows: who the fuck is harold.
Deiter76: I kinda look like him, though. My family always says that anyway!
Deiter76: Harold who?
xCalmAsHinduCows: you called me harold dumb ass
xCalmAsHinduCows: well anyways, whoever has been on this name is a fucking asshole,
xCalmAsHinduCows: don't fuck with me or my friends
xCalmAsHinduCows signed off at 12:56:01 PM.
Heh.
10:57 AM
Sunday, November 17, 2002
Whoa. Tonight was fun.
Yeah, tonight was fun.
I worked from 4-7 (yeah, I know: tough shift. I already complained about it prior to this post). After work I came home and did nothing for two hours. I made some phone calls; found out what was going on. I ended up at Whittier because Shannon said that they had a new Trivial Pursuit game, and everyone was going to play that. Ann and Shannon didn't really want to do that though, so she told me they planned to go elsewhere.
Tab and I decided to roll with the two girls, and we went to this party on 48th and Adams. It took us forever to get there, but it was well worth it. We showed up, and right away Tab and I discovered that this was definitely not our type of party. Meatheads upon meatheads, and damn were they stupid. It's a great thing when you and your friend can bullshit with a guy about absolutely nothing, but at the same time you can crack jokes that insult the guy('s) intelligence without him knowing it.
So we did that for a while, and then decided to go into this back room where people were playing some form of game on a table, and we decided we'd be assholes about everything. We pulled up some chairs, and asked about the game. First thing I heard is, "Hey man, what's up with your hair?" I was like, "What?" He's like, "Your hair. What's up with it?" I decided to fuck with him.
"It's a political statement." I said. He's like, "What kind of statement is that?" I'm like, "Well, are you politically minded?" He's like, "No, not really." "Well," I say, "I'm a communist. I was going to do the whole thing red, but I decided not to because I didn't want my family to be mad at me on Thanksgiving."
At this point, most everyone who heard me stopped what they were doing and stared. They were all so close minded that they didn't know what to say; they were just like, "What?"
Then I started to spew some tired communist bullshit, and everyone got all worked up. I was actually arguing a strong case for communism, but it wasn't too hard considering the oposition. This one guy starts going, "Motherfucker, there are guys who are over in other countries risking their lives just so you can run your mouth!" I was like, "Look man, I'm not against the US! I'm pro US!" We argued for a long while, then I finally stated that I was technically NOT a communist, but in fact an idealist, in the sense that I believe that communism would work under better circumstances.
Things settled for a while, but I kept hinting at communist thoughts/actions. For example, we kept playing this game (it was called 'Landmine.' Once someone finished a beer, they half crushed it and placed it on the table. The player would spin a quarter, and if it hit a can, they had to drink so many drinks. Pretty lame.) and they kept skipping me. Finally, I stood up, and in a mock rage I declared, "What's with this game? Why do the rich keep getting to play and play, while the poor keep getting passed over? How long must this go on before things are fair? I'm sick of this fucking system!" Everyone was like, "Dude, what the fuck are you talking about? Where do you get off calling us rich?" It was pretty funny. I kept making comments to that effect all night.
Finally, this guy who was actually cool sat down at my request, after everyone had left, and started discussing stuff with me. This dude's name was Kurt, and he actually had seemed like he knew something about politics, unlike every other guy there. I discussed things with him, and I think I actually made a strong case for communism. Tab was laughing pretty hard, and Kurt was getting frustrated. I told these people my name was Karl, by the way, after Karl Marx, of course.
Then, at one point in the discussion, this fucking guy comes up, and pounds on the table. "What the fuck is wrong with you man?" he shouts at me. "You're making a lot of people really mad, motherfucker." he says, looking right at me. I try to play it off as the guy who is actually concerned with the ideals that I was preaching, but who also doesn't really want conflict. He doesn't give in, and finally says that we (Tab and I) have to "get the fuck out of my house right know."
I felt bad for Ann and Shannon, even though I'd told Tab half an hour earlier that we weren't leaving until we got thrown out. We got up, and started to leave. I leaned over the table and told Kurt that it was all a joke. He was cool, and the only open minded guy there, so he deserved to know that I was just fucking around. Tab and I called the guy (Joe) an asshole, and left the party.
Outside, we stood around a car, scratching circles in the frost on the trunk. This dude that had stood behind Joe the whole time came, and leaned on the car, saying it was his and he didn't want us fucking with it. We were like, "OK man, no problem." We stood there for a while, and then this cool guy that Ann knew named Matt came out, and started making jokes.
"Look out people! It's the communist with the inverted bowl cut!" Shit like that. He was pretty cool, and I think he knew it was all a joke all along. The meathead leaning on the car tried to shut him up, saying, "Hey, we don't want any smart asses here either, so shut the fuck up."
"Geez," I said, "it looks like this is the fuckin' No Fun party."
"Oh yeah?" He got up in my face. "Well then you can GET THE FUCK OUT." He said, all scary like. I was like, "OK, sure dude. Later." and I walked about four feet away from him, to this big pile of brush and shit in their driveway. "Whoa," I said, "this is a cool pile of sticks!"
"Yeah? Why don't you FUCK IT then?" He screamed, about to come after me. I really wasn't too scared of any of these guys; they weren't too intimidating. At this point Ann came out and said something, after which the same psycho guy told her to "shut the fuck up." This wasn't cool, and I went up to the guy and told him that while he could yell at me all he wanted, he couldn't say that shit to her since she didn't have anything to do with it. He kinda acted like he was going to do something, but just waited for Joe to come out.
Joe came out, and he waited til we were practically off his driveway, before he started coming at me. He was like, "Oh motherfucker! Run bitch! Get the fuck out of here motherfucker!" It was lame. He waited til we were already leaving before he started coming at us, and by then we were gone and his friends were all doing the "I'm holding you back, tough guy" routine.
Anyway, that shit was pretty fuckin' hilarious.
2:39 AM
Saturday, November 16, 2002
People are fucking stupid.
I work for the Parking and Transit Services here at the university, and my job mainly consists of attending parking lots for events like football and volleyball games. I take people's money, and give them tickets, etc. Because this job isn't very hard to do, I work with a lot of fuckin' morons. Stupid people who are also very friendly and nice; the worst kind. You have to humor them, laugh at their jokes, and talk about everything related to the uninteresting.
Tonight we were working the volleyball game, and I was in the lot closest to the arena. This is by far the busiest lot on campus, so there is no time for sitting around and spacing off like I would if it was a Saturday football game. This is not a bad thing, however. All the cars and business allow me the opportunity to 'forget' to give out tickets to a few cars. Tips, if you will. They count the money along with the tickets, and they don't count the number of cars in the lot, so I make a few dollars per hour more than my co-workers.
Anyway, people are fucking stupid, like I said. Most of them are like sheep; they'll do whatever anyone that seems to be in charge tells them to do. I like the people like this, because they're easy to work with. For the most part I'm very friendly and polite. I address men and women with 'Sir' and 'Ma'am.' Occasionally out of habit I'll call a woman 'Sir' or a guy 'Ma'am,' and it's always funny when that happens, but other than that I'm a pretty nice parking lot attendant.
Then there are the people who think that everyone is out to get them.
Frantic mother of three: "They told me to come over here!"
Rich asshole in SUV: "Can't I park here?? I parked here last week!"
65 year old catering service man: "How in the heck do you get to the Children's Museum??"
They get all paranoid, and think that it's a giant conspiracy between the parking lot attendants to screw them over and give them the run around. If they had any sense enough to look at their pass, it'd tell them exactly where they're supposed to park.
Stupid jerk: "Where am I supposed to park?"
Me: "17B Ma'am."
Stupid jerk: "Oh, but I parked here last time! Let me park here."
Me: "Look man, the only reason you parked her last time was because Sancho was running the lot, and Sancho is missing half his fuckin' head."
Stupid jerk: "I'm going to report you!"
Me: "Enjoy the game!"
Then the worst are the people who have been waiting in the backed up line of cars for over 5 minutes, even honking their horn here and there. They pull up all in a hurry, roll their window down, and get out their purse.
Dumb woman: "How much is it?"
Me: "3 dollars, like it says on the sign you've been looking at for the past 5 minutes."
Dumb woman: "Well I never!"
Me: "Look lady, I don't set the prices. I'm just doing my job."
Dumb woman: "Everywhere I go they want money from me!"
Me: "Shut the fuck up and gimme the three dollars before I smash your fuckin' head in. You're holding up the line."
Dumb woman: "Oh!"
Me: "Thanks. Enjoy the game!"
So that's my job. It's pretty hard work, and not everyone can do it. I guess that's why there are guys like me!
6:24 PM
Not much going on.
Went to see Mountain Goats/John Vanderslice tonight. Fucking terrific, really.
Afterwards watched Touch Of Evil at Derek's. Also fucking terrific. Sometimes I think Orson Welles was just a really smart man who managed to somehow go back in time, he's such a genius. Goodness he does look large in it. Him and Brando, I tell ya.
Today, out of boredom and PFMS: http://www.dragondata.com/~mich/forum/ ( I tried the link option, and it didn't work), I harrassed several girls from the hit website www.makeoutclub.com. There were some good conversations. They didn't last too long, mostly because I wasn't being the kind of person that you'd want to have a long conversation with, but I'm not too worried about it.
Deiter76: This one time, I ate a beetle, then I threw it up, and then I ate that.
vejeebrgr: gross
vejeebrgr: why for?
Deiter76: Why not?
vejeebrgr: okay. cool
vejeebrgr: who are you?
Deiter76: Shit, I'll eat any motherfuckin' thing.
vejeebrgr: woooooooo
vejeebrgr: i like to eat pizza and burritos
Deiter76: Yeah, from the looks of your picture you eat a lot of pizza and burritos.
vejeebrgr: why thank you
vejeebrgr: so, if you think i am fat, why did you message me?
Deiter76: I dig on fat bitches.
vejeebrgr: oh, that's nice
vejeebrgr: lots of fat bitches like ass holes
vejeebrgr: but not this one
vejeebrgr: buh bye
Deiter76: I'm not following...
vejeebrgr: riiiiiight
Deiter76: So... you like fat bitches assholes?
Deiter76:That's pretty sick, you know.
Deiter76: Hey do you like fire?
emotian: no
Deiter76: Not even just a little?
emotian: nope
Deiter76: Shit, I fucking love fire.
Deiter76: I burn all sorts of things.
Deiter76: Where do you live?
emotian: alaska
Deiter76: Holy shit, I bet there's lots of cool shit to burn up there.
Deiter76: Houses, trees, eskimos, snow.
Deiter76: YOU.
emotian: no thanks
Deiter76: I'd make it look like an accidental spontaneous human combustion.
Deiter76: But really, I'd burn your skin right off your bones.
emotian: wonderful, but i'm really not interested
Deiter76: I can't wait to burn you and your things.
emotian: ;-)
Deiter76: I'm going to jack off all over your smoldering corpse.
Deiter76: I'm going to put the fire out with my semen.
Previous message was not received by emotian because of error: User emotian is not available.
Deiter76: So, you're from Conneticut?
Rudiegrl19: yea
Deiter76: Wow, it's a small world.
Deiter76: I'm not from Connecticut, actually.
Deiter76: I am headed that way this Christmas though.
Rudiegrl19: oh
Deiter76: Kinda strange huh?
Rudiegrl19: not really
Deiter76: Well, I mean, what with you being from Connecticut and all.
Rudiegrl19: umm...i dont think so
Deiter76: I was just saying, maybe we could hook up while I'm there.
Rudiegrl19: i dont know you
Deiter76: I'm Carlton.
Deiter76: So, now that you know me, what do you think?
Rudiegrl19: uh i dont think so
Deiter76: You're a real stuck up bitch, you know that? I only wanted some fuckin' coffee, maybe some pie and a blowjob. But no, you gotta be all stuck up and shit.
Deiter76: I don't think I'd wanna eat pie with your bitch ass anyway.
Deiter76: Can I get your home number so I can give you a call when you're in town?
Previous message was not received by Rudiegrl19 because of error: User Rudiegrl19 is not available.
Deiter76: Hey look! It's Kibbe!
Auto response from heylookitskibbe: I'm in the library (which has wireless internet like me) working busily at my research paper.
HELP!!!!!
Leave me an encouraging word.
Deiter76: You fucking whore, I know you're there.
heylookitskibbe: who is this?
Deiter76: See, I told you.
heylookitskibbe: what in the world...?
Deiter76: Hey Kibbe.
heylookitskibbe: who is this?
Deiter76: Carlton.
heylookitskibbe: do i know you?
Deiter76: Awww shit, don't tell me you're gonna play me like that.
Deiter76: Aww hell no you ain't playin' me like that.
heylookitskibbe: youve picked a bad week to expect me to remember people
Deiter76: What the fuck do I care?
heylookitskibbe: remind me again why you IMd me if you dont care?
Deiter76: I mean why the fuck should I care if it's a bad week for you?
Deiter76: What, should I send you an e-card or something?
Deiter76: Gimme a fuckin' break, Christ.
heylookitskibbe: look i have no idea who you are
Deiter76: Maybe this will refresh your memory... "Yes! Put it in my ass! Oh fuck me like the cow I am! Fuck me! Oh sweet Jesus! You're my Daddy! You're my father! Oh fuck me harder Daddy!"
heylookitskibbe: you must have the wrong kibbe
heylookitskibbe: fucking asshole
Deiter76: You liked it.
Previous message was not received by heylookitskibbe because of error: User heylookitskibbe is not available.
Deiter76: People usually choose pictures that make themselves look good when they show them to other people online, right?
spyderfairy: yea, I guess.
Deiter76: Well if that's true, then just how fucking ugly are you in real life?
spyderfairy: really fucking ugly.
spyderfairy: a troll, even.
Deiter76: Shit, that's gotta suck.
Deiter76: For people that see you, I mean.
spyderfairy: damn straight.
Deiter76: Good thing I'll never be one of those people!
Yeah, I know. I'm an asshole and I'm going to hell. But admit it, you laughed. If you didn't, I probably don't want you reading this site. There's also an outside chance that I'm not very funny and my sense of humor sucks, but if that is indeed the case, then get the fuck off of my website, asshole.
1:53 AM
Tuesday, November 12, 2002
Yeah Dennis, I ate that fuckin' donut. Thanks; it was good.
Anyway, I decided what I want to be when I grow up.
Anna Nicole Smith.
If I were Anna, my life would be complete.Think about it: You have more money than you could possibly spend. You have your own TV show. And the best part? You're too stupid to know that people hate you. If I could be reincarnated, I'd definitely want to be reincarnated as a dumb hot chick. Too dumb to know how dumb I was. Then I wouldn't have all this self conscious bullshit thinking to do. If I was Anna, I'd be happy. Think she's not happy? She has to be! She's fat and happy and rich and can do anything. Plus she is so dumb she thinks she's a popular celebrity. How great would that be? Seriously, people rag on her all the time, but if you think about it, she's got the best life of all of us.
12:01 AM
Monday, November 11, 2002
You don't get a story tonight. Cry. Cry about it, you fuckin' babies. Just cry. I don't care.
10:34 PM
Sunday, November 10, 2002
Saturday I had to work at 6:30 in the morning. I had gone to bed around 3 or so Friday night, but it was OK because Ryan gave me a ride to work so that I didn't have to ride my bike. So work was boring, but it was OK since the game was at 12:30. Basically all I do at work is sit in a parking lot and tell people they can/can not park there. It's easy and stupid but I do get paid for it, and that's all that matters.
So I was working with this lady and her seven year old daughter. The girl was pretty cute, and I was messin' around with her most of the day. (Christ, get your minds out of the gutter, you sick fuckin' child molestors) I'm jumping rope with her and shit, just fuckin' with her toys. (No, by 'toys' I do not mean her breasts, you sick fucking asshole) It was more fun that just sitting there doing nothing, that's for sure.
Anyway, while I'm sitting there playing with these leaves with this little girl, her mom is sitting right next to us in their car. She calls up who I assume to be her ex on the phone. The window is down. She starts talking about stupid domestic shit, and I'm eavesdropping. It's nothing special. Then she starts getting upset, because the guy sounds like he's an asshole. She starts getting very excited, and talking loudly and angrily at this guy. The little girl and I can both hear it. It's like:
"Oh... What? You fucked her didn't you? I know you did... tell me what you did with her... Sick! That's nasty! You're disgusting. You disgust me... How can you be thinking about marrying her? You don't love this girl... she's just a piece of ass... etc."
It was fuckin' crazy. I'm sitting here with this little girl, hearing all this. I was just like, "Uh... lets... let's play catch... um." Finally the bitch rolled up her window, but only after talking about how she was on her period and it wasn't the right time for an argument. I got off work and went to the game. Nebraska rolled on them. It was fun still.
We come back from the game, and we hang out, just bullshitting. We'd decided that we were gonna have people over, but didn't know if it'd be a kegger or just byob. We finally decide to have a kegger at around 6 that night, and start calling people. It starts out slow, but pretty soon the whole clan is over, and it's pretty fun. McLaine comes over, and the place really gets going. We had some pretty intense chug and flip games going, but McLaine's team beat ours in the championship. Then we rolled over them in the rematch. I must have played 7 or 8 games last night. It was great. We make enough to get another keg, and we head off and pick it up. Old Milwaukee's Best. Excellent.
The party ends up being gigantic. Lots of people from Seward show up, kids I played football with and such. It's a lot of fun, but then the second keg runs out and it's too late to buy a third. People are still showing up, mostly with their own beer. The party keeps going, people are just fucking around and hanging out. Turns out that the bands Pomeroy, 8th Wave, and The JV Allstars show up, after their concert that night that Tucker and a few other people went to. I didn't even know they were here until they left and someone says, "That was Pomeroy." they all wrote their names on our walls downstairs, so that's cool.
Anyway, lots of fuckin' fun. Tonight I'm eating at Old Chicago with Derek, and that reminds me of this whole other thing that happened last night, but I'll write that maybe tommorow, because I have a feeling that tonight might make a good correlating story.
12:50 PM
What a fuckin' awesome weekend. Definitely gets my vote for weekend of the month.
For starters, my good friend Jake Tucker was back in town for the weekend. Jake lives in Cali now, as part of his whole Army thing. So I was hoping that I could find something cool, show him a good time. I didn't know of much going on, but I figured I would be able to throw something together, and anyway just hanging out with Jake was the main goal anyway.
So on Friday, Nob Hill invited us over for their party, someone's birthday. We had stolen their chairs a couple days before, and when they came by asking us for them, they offered to give us free beer in return for their chairs back. Also on Friday one of our friends' house was having a party, and it's usually a good time, so we planned on getting some free beer and heading that way.
So we go over there, just planning on being obnoxious and stupid like always. It's usually meatheads and idiots at their parties, and there's only a couple cool girls that live there anyway. They're not really my type of people, but the beer was free and it's usually fun to fuck around. Their tap was all fucked up, so I saved the party by donating my tap's services. There's a ton of people over; it's packed. We're just socializing, fuckin' around. Tucker and all my old high school friends come over, and we're bullshitting and getting drunk. One of them gets the bright idea that we should fuck around some more. So, we're looking through these boxes they got in their basement. I see something that I gotta take, an old Girl Talk board game. I stuff in my coat and head up the stairs. "Take this too dude." says someone, and stuffs this black dress in my coat. We make it out, and head back home to drop off the loot. We inspect the dress.
It's this slip dress or something, I don't really know. A dress. Black, the works. Anyway, I'm kinda drunk. Tucker and Ryan think that it would be a good idea for me to put the dress on. They talk me into it.
This dress is tight as shit. My ultra ripped upper body can hardly be contained by it. So anyway, it looks funny. I stuff the boobs, and go show them. They happen to find it funny. Then, we get the idea that I should wear it back to the party. I'm expecting to get my ass kicked by some of the homophobe meatheads at the party. Sadly, the cops had come while I was dressing up, so it's just the girls and one of them's boyfriend. They also find it funny, all except Jaime, the girl who owns the dress. I guess that wasn't too surprising. The boyfriend is creeped out like crazy. "Oh come on," I say, "haven't you ever done anything stupid when you were drunk?" "Not like that shit!" he replies. "You wanna?" I ask, seductively. He gets up and leaves.
I guess Jaime and the guy were really upset about it, so Ryan says that I have to go take it off and return it. They don't seem too upset, they laugh, and we decide to go back home. Jake and the rest of my old friends decide to go to some other party, and I head off with Kevin, Dennis, and Ian to go to the Monkey Cart, the house that's having the other party. We get there and it turns out the cops busted it and they took the third keg over to another house, but they don't know how to get there. We end up driving around for a while til we find it. Ian is driving, and we attempt to parallel park. After like 20 seconds of backing up and pulling forward, we realize that Ian is simply repeating the same turns, and the car isn't doing anything but go back and forth; we're not getting any closer to the curb. We start yelling at him since he doesn't seem to understand that you have to turn the wheel the opposite direction, and in his excitement he hits the car in front of us. We get the hell out of there, the cops follow us for a while, and we come home. That was Friday.
I'll put pictures of my sexy ass in the dress as soon as I get them done and scanned.
12:32 PM
Tuesday, November 05, 2002
Captain Alex.
This past summer, my twin brother Alex was back from Kansas City where he was living with my aunt and uncle. He wanted to see old friends and go to a cool party or something. It was a good friend of ours' birthday that night, and after that I knew of a couple other cool parties that were going on. He left for Lincoln for Ryan's party earlier than I did, and by the time I got there an hour or so later, he was already drunk. We hung out there for an hour or so, and then he came with me to another party at a friend of mine from Lincoln's house. It was 10:30 or so, give or take.
We get there, and there really isn't that many people there, as it's still kind of early. We go downstairs, and we're just sitting around this keg and talking, bullshitting and the like. Alex doesn't really know anybody, so he's kinda uncomfortable, not to mention drunk. He makes some chit chat, but hints and wanting to go back to Ryan's, since he hasn't seen those guys in a long time. He asks what time it is, and if he can use the phone. I was like, "It's 11 man. The phone is in the car. Here's the keys, just go use it in the car." He takes the keys, and leaves.
Time passes. In half an hour or so, I realize that he's not back yet. Then I realize that I gave him the keys to the car, and he's also smashed. I started to worry, and I asked Nate if he knew where he was. I procrastinated for a few minutes, then finally decided to go look for him. Luckily, I spotted the car, meaning he hadn't driven it somewhere in a drunken stupor. He was passed out in the front seat with a beer in one hand and the phone in the other. I'm like, "You OK?" and he's like, "Guh, meh. Yeah. Mugh." I laughed, and went back in.
I told the guys about it, and we laughed. A few beers later, we decided to go fuck with him. I got a marker, and we headed out. I open the door, and start drawing a nice Captain Morgan moustache on him. I give him the soul patch under his lip, and then start with a unibrow. He wakes up halfway through, and I stop, telling him I was just checking on him, and seeing if he was OK. He's like, "Yeaammcoo." We go back inside.
I decide around 2 that it's time to go home. I wake him up, move him over, and take off. He's fairly sobered up, but still slightly drunk. He sleeps the whole way home. We park, and I wake him up and head in. Like I suspected, my dad's up. He always has a hard time sleeping when we're at home and come back late. I realize Alex still has the sweet 'stache I drew, and I don't want my dad to see it until the morning, when my whole family can discover it when he wakes up for breakfast. All the lights are out, and everything's going good. He's being cool with my dad, sober and all, and I don't think my dad's too worried about anything. Then he opens the refridgerator to get some water or something, and the light illuminates his face. Shit, my dad sees.
Dad looks at me like, "What the fuck?" I just put a finger to my lips, smile, and shake my head. My dad starts to question Alex now, with implied suspicion. Alex picks up on the fact that my dad thinks he's drunk, especially when my dad says, "Where you drinking?" Alex has no idea that he has a goofy fucking moustache on his face. It's hilarious.
"Yeah dad, look at me! I'm all hopped up on goofballs! I'm super drunk dad! I've been drinking all night!" he says, sarcastically. My dad just stares at him like, 'You're the biggest fuckin' dumbass on the face of this Earth.' I just start laughing; I can't help it. My dad just says, "You'd better go to bed I think." "Yeah, since I'm so wasted!" is the reply.
I tell my dad what happened, and head downstairs for bed as well. I pass Alex' bathroom on the way, hearing water running. I stand outside and laugh and laugh. He curses at me, and I go to bed. All in all a pretty hilarious event.
10:32 PM
OK. Since I forgot to update, you whiners can have two stories. This is a good one.
9:50 PM
Soft Angie Tacos.
Yum, delicious.
OK. So as you might know, my roommates and I struggle with cleptomania. A lot of what is on our walls is stolen. Signs, name tags, stuff like that. One night a few months or so ago, we were getting some food at Amigos. A sudden urge to steal the 'Late Night Specials' stand up sign came over me, and I ended up walking out with it. It's a blue sign, slightly larger than an 8 X 11 sheet of paper. It's blue, and it has the nightly specials, like burritos and all that mexican shit that they sell there. On Tuesday is taco night, like two tacos for a dollar, or something along those lines.
One day a few weeks or a month later, who knows, Dennis says, "I don't think Kevin's noticed the sign." I'm like, "What sign?" He takes me into the kitchen and shows me the Amigos sign that's in one corner of the counter. It's been scanned, and instead of '2 tacos for 99 cents' for Tuesday, it says, '2 soft Angie tacos.' Angie, of course, being Kevin's sexy mother. I thought this was pretty funny, and hoped that one day Angie would see this and I'd get to see her reaction. It'd have to be at least as good as the time she told me that she was "really worried" about me after she saw the picture of some guy jerkin' off I drew along with a poem that I hung on Kevin's door.
Anyway, we forgot about Kevin not being aware, and days passed. Then this afternoon, Nate and I are playing Vice City when Kevin gets home.
"Yeah." he says, and just looks at us frustratedly. "Yeah, so in all my work on that big paper, I forgot that I was also supposed to bring in a table advertisement and discuss it (Kevin is an Ad major). I was like, 'Shit!' but then I remembered that we stole that Amigos sign, so I grabbed that and went to class. People thought it was funny, since it was obviously stolen, so I'm like, 'Yeah, this is good. I got a good one.' I'm talking about the ad, what it does, etc., and then somebody goes, 'What are Angie tacos?' It was my professor."
By this time, Nate and I have already figured out the rest of the story. We're dying. Kevin's standing there holding this sign, and continues to tell the story.
"So I get confused, and I'm like, 'I don't know.' and look at the sign. At first, I didn't get it. Then I realized that one of you fuckers had changed it, and that was pretty embarrasing. I just stood there, till Sara who's in my class yells, 'Hey, that's his mom's name!' Then the class erupts. I just stood there, nodding my head, cursing you cocksuckers under my breath. Then I threw the sign down and went to my desk."
We're still fuckin' dying. This is the best possible way that he could have noticed the sign. The sign itself isn't so funny as it is sort of clever, but the fact that he held it in front of his class when he didn't know it advertised two of his mom's soft, sweet, tacos is absolutely hilarious. I just wish I could have seen his face, it'd have been priceless. I'm pretty sure his mom will hear about it too, which makes it even better. Damn, that Angie Fuller is one piece of ass!
9:48 PM
Yes. I missed the story posting day yesterday. You shouldn't be surprised, if you know me at all. The real shocker is that for a month or so I've been going on a weekly schedule pretty much flawlessly, and I think that because of that I can miss a day if I want to. I'm a lazy bastard, dammit. I'm going to be lazy here and there. If you don't like it, then you can eat a dick.
9:28 PM
Tuesday, October 29, 2002
OK.
Why do people always eat milk on their cereal? I'm constantly berated for eating plain cereal. I think I've only eaten a bowl of cereal with milk once, and I didn't even finish the whole thing. My dad always tried to convert me, but there was no hope. I just don't get it. Cereal is good the way it is. Why do you have to add milk? What does it add? Flavor? The cereal is too dry for you? Honestly. If cereal were made to be eaten with milk, then it would come packaged with milk. I don't care about the pictures on the boxes. That stuff all got printed after some genius decided to eat milk on cereal and told his kids to do it or they'd go to Hell. I mean, how did people go about putting milk on cereal? Was it invented with that purpose in mind? Was this guy just sitting around spooning milk from a bowl, when he said to himself, "Hmmm. This needs something." and instantly Cheerios were born? It's retarded. Cereal tastes great without that shitty milk on it.
10:21 PM
Monday, October 28, 2002
The Retard Story.
I'm driving with one of my friends into Lincoln, and I'm about to turn onto the main street in town, O Street. The turn onto O from the road I'm on is a two lane turn, and I'm in the outside lane. We're turning left onto O, and to my left is a big red truck.
As we are approaching the turn, I notice that this bitch in a station wagon is pulling out past the walkway, but I didn't think much of it because I was telling some story to my friend about some other bullshit I did the night before. As I'm turning left, telling the story, my friend goes, "Shit! Look out man!" I turn my head to look just before the big truck hits me on the back driver door.
He stops and lets me around to continue going left, and then he follows me as I pull over to inspect the damage. I was freaking out because at this point in time my insurance was through the roof as a result of my DUI. I paid 300 a month to drive this summer. So I didn't want anything to happen to my insurance to make it go up at all. So I checked out his shit first.
His truck was fine, no damages. Then I looked at mine. They were minimal, so I was releaved about that. Nothing big, and if you didn't know what to look for you might miss it. He got out of his truck, and I went to talk to him, and I noticed that he was retarded. He was walking all funny and shit, and he stuck out his hand to greet me.
I shook it, and told him that I was sorry, and that it was that fucking bitch's fault for forcing him into me. He asked if we wanted to call the cops. I told him I didn't want to talk to the police if there was any way I could avoid it. He said he was OK with that, and we just kinda talked about how it was a shitty deal. I kept looking at my friend, because I couldn't believe this guy was this retarded and was able to drive. He kept patting me on the back, and shaking my hand. Finally I decided that there was no point in staying longer, and turned to say goodbye and leave.
Then he goes, "Hey, you want some money to pay for it?" I wasn't expecting this at all, but I definitely wanted some money if he was going to pay it. I looked at Mark like 'What should I do?' because this retarded guy is offering me money and I would feel like an asshole if I took a retard's money. Of course, I ended up taking it.
I didn't want to seem like I was all about money, so I looked at my car and asked, "How much do you think it'd cost to fix this?" I've since heard it would be about 400 dollars. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. He looked in his other pocket, and couldn't find any money so he started cursing, but then got out his wallet and pulled some bills out from there, He waded them up and put them in my hand. "That should take care of it." He said. I didn't want to burst out laughing right there, so I thanked him again and Mark and I got in the car and left as soon as we could.
7 dollars. That's how much he gave me; 7 dollars. I thought it was pretty fucking hilarious, not only because I just took money from a retard who was driving a big fucking truck, but also because this retard thought that 7 dollars was enough to cover the damage to my car.
1:36 PM
Monday, October 21, 2002
I guess there was really no point to detailing my weekend. Sorry about that one.
I think I should probably shave the rest of this skullet off sooner rather than later.
10:53 PM
Sunday.
I wake up on the couch and I realize that I'd passed out again. Not surprising, I guess. We load up, get some more tapes for the camera, and head home. We don't know how to get home, so it takes us 9 hours. Longest most boring trip ever. Otter keeps playing the same damn mix tape, I don't want to tape anything anymore, but everyone else isn't interested in it. I wanted to make confessionals so that I'd have some help with the video narration, but nobody wants to do that either. I think they're still annoyed with me. We recounted some tales, but mostly all I did was think to myself how fucked up the trip was, and how much I wanted my hair, and how I never should have come. What a waste of money. I could have used that cash to go to Germany. Another pipe dream. I've lost interest in making the videotape. I'm more interested in making it a personal documentary about my drinking. I realize I'm an alcoholic.
I'd explored this possibility before, when I had my DUI. I thought I had my shit under control, and I think I did, up until this past weekend. Maybe this is a kneejerk reaction, but something isn't right. Maybe if I go back to some AA meetings here and there it will help out like it did before. It's a hard thing to come to terms with. Partying and drinking is too much fun. I don't know if I'd be able to give it up. All the way home I'm convincing myself that I'm not going to drink for a long time. I'm an alcoholic, and I gotta stop, or something.
Nate calls. We're having a party at our place tonight. Shit. Well so much for never drinking again. Actually, the party turns out to be pretty fucking fun. I was sitting on the porch in one of the white plastic chairs, and Dennis pulled the shit out from under me, and I fell backwards off the porch, and the chair broke everywhere. Richard gets the chair, and he's like, "Maybe you can still sit in it." I tried, and more broke off. This happened a couple of times. Then I tried to lean on the fence by the house, and I flipped over it backwards. Too bad the camera was out of film.
Other highlights of the night: Trip to McDonalds with Nate and Jake. Nothing better than getting free McDonalds when it's 3 in the morning and you're drunk. Bobby Meuller with the hookup: 2 Big 'n' Tasty's, 2 egg McMuffins, 6 breakfast burritos, and hash browns. Also 3 drinks. It was cool.
Our house should be called the Chant House. Every party we have, people in the basement start a chant, and beat on all the pipes and venting, shouting things like, "Nate sucks ass!" and "Shively's mom!" The best chant of the evening though, and probably the best of the house so far, was when I come down the stairs and hear everyone chanting "DC sniper! DC sniper!" Man, I couldn't believe that.
10:49 PM
Saturday.
The day of the game. I woke up, and realized that I'd actually given myself a horseshoe haircut last night. Everyone laughed, it was really funny. Otter's hair was funny too. We would continue to laugh about our hair the rest of the trip. We get all our shit squared away, eat some breakfast, and head for Stillwater. Maybe the game could make up for last night. I still could not believe what had happened to my hair, and that night.
The weather is all fucked up, it's raining. We get there late, and don't have time to grill the steaks and burgers. I don't have hair.
I get a lot of stares. One guys says to his wife, "Jesus Christ! He scalped himself!" Everyone thought that was pretty funny. I didn't know what to think. Half of me felt like showing it off, and the other half wanted to go home. The game better had be good, I thought.
Nebraska lost. Oh well. Everyone I was with was all pissed, but I thought the game was pretty entertaining. Frank Solich needs to be fired. Jammal Lord is the dumbest football player in the nation. That's my thoughts on the game. Also, Oklahoma people are fucking inbred and retarded. The things they yelled, the way they talked. Horrible. It was pretty irritating. So the game was then dissapointing. I got soakin' wet, and I was very hungry. We left the game and headed towards Tulsa, for the gun show.
I don't understand people's infatuation with guns. I mean, they're cool and shit, but the cool ones are the ones that people can't really own legally. I don't get owning 15 different shotguns. What's the difference? I realize that people are interested in different things, and that's cool. I bet even some people would make fun of the fact that I own over 110 Star Wars action figures. It's not my fault. That was a very confusing period in my life. Heh... so anyway. We head off for that. I get filled in on the night before. I think people are still upset at me. I wish I still had my hair.
We get to the gun show and everyone except for Otter and myself go. They tell us to go look for a hotel. I was like, 'Fuck that, let's go thrift shopping.' I get some sweet shades at Dollar General, and we get addresses for thrift stores. We hit up a couple, and they're the nicest thrift stores I've ever been in. I got a couple shirts, but no cool hats like I'd hoped. I still need to find a cool hat. They call, and we go to pick them up. They seem irritated that we dont' have a hotel. We decide to stay in Tulsa that night, and we get a great room at the Comfort Suites. They fire up the grill, and I am just chilling in the room while Theo and Jon sleep on the beds. The steak comes, and we start drinking. Again, I'm knocking them back. Everytime each one of them would be getting a beer, I'd get one, and then even between that. Ridiculous, and stupid. But, I'm doing fine. We're watching football, and things seem to be going smoothly. Then that's all I remember.
Next thing I know, I'm in a fucking boiler room. I'm scared as shit. I'm in some boiler room, and I don't know where I am. I forget all about the hotel and the guys. It's like a dream... it's frighteningly surreal. I go up some stairs, I go down some stairs. I'm running everywhere. There's refridgerators, but only jugs of milk. Where the fuck am I?? I'm freaking out. I finally find a door that leads me outside. I'm walking around the hotel, not knowing where I am. Finally I find a door, and open it. Standing there is Andy and Theo. I am so relieved to see these guys. They don't know what the hell is going on, and we make our way back up to the room. I think I told the story, but then again that's all I can remember of that night. Stupid fucking alcohol.
10:29 PM
Friday.
Friday morning I woke up late, and Kevin was asking me to go to my first class. I told him no, and went back to sleep. I eventually woke up around 11, and started to help clean up the house. I couldn't get ahold of Jake because he was in class, and Otter was coming to pick me up at 1. I was supposed to have eight 30s of Keystone by that time. I wasn't panicking yet.
After mopping and throwing shit away, I finally got in touch with Jake. He'd buy it of course, but he still had to get his ID taken because he just turned 21 last Monday. So it took us about an hour and a half to find the damn place to get the ID. Finally we get to this place, and there are all these chairs waiting around this little old lady in front with a desk. Above her head is this giant screen that says 'Now Serving Number ____' in big electronic letters. Jake gets a number, 'A051,' and we sit down. We're waiting, and this fucking girl's computerized voice comes over this speaker in the ceiling right above us, "Now serving A048." The thing was fucking deafening. "What is this, a fuckin' airport?" I asked Jake. I was hoping the voice would come on and say, "The white zone is for filling out the forms. The blue zone is for checking the paper work. The red zone is for..." It never did, but this hot chick did sit in front of me for a short period of time, and then Jake got his shit and left. The lady gave Jake's new ID to a girl, who got all pissed off and snapped at her. Jake needs a haircut.
So we got the beer finally. Like fucking 150 bucks because he accidentally purchased one more, and the two 30s of Key Ice were a little more expensive. Why the hell did we buy those. Goddamn it. Anyway, we get the beer. I'm like an hour late, but I get home, get my phone, Otter comes, we load all the shit up, and head for Seward. We finally leave Seward at 3:30 give or take, and we're on the road. Headed for Arkansas City, Kansas. This trip was going to be sweet. To top it all off, Theo snatched his parents digital video camera. I'm in Heaven; I'll get to film everything, and make a movie, and it's gonna be great.
Now some info about the trip: joining Otter, Theo, and I were Jake Wiegmann, Jon Dolak, and Andy Maca. So there's that. We planned on staying in Arkansas City that night, driving to Stillwater for the game on Sat. morning, and staying in Tulsa the next night because of some lame gun show that weekend. Biggest in the world or something. Then we were gonna head back on Sunday.
So, prior to this trip, everyone was making a big deal about how much we'd drink. At first they wanted ten 30s, but they got a little smarter and we said eight. Everyone was talking about how drunk we'd get. Well, it kinda seemed like I was the only one who was drinking. Basically, I got trashed on the way there. Ridiculously trashed. It was like high school all over again. I'm drinking Key Ice with wreckless abandon, and getting drunker and drunker. Also a problem: I'm really fucking obnoxious. I'm manning the camera, and I guess I felt that I had to be really funny, and I took the easy way out too often by teasing and giving the rest of the guys a hard time. They did not like this. Again, like high school, I got the shit beat out of me. I also pissed off most those guys pretty good, I suspect. So I drift in and out of consciousness, making some good jokes along the way, but also being the same drunken asshole. We go to an Arby's, and I guess I was just stupid drunk. Tripped over some shit, scared people. Shannon called, leaving a message. "You owe me five dollars!" Terrific. We finally got to the hotel.
A lot of my story has sadly been forgotten, blacked out. This doesn't help much, but it gives a good idea to my condition at the time. I remember fighting with everyone at the door of the hotel, wanting to go to the van and get my radio I brought so that we could listen to CDs. Then I was laying on the bed, my ear to the radio, and then I was on the floor underneath the sink, with a sleeping bag over me. Then I woke up and the guys were around me, and I pushed them off, went back out. I woke up a little later, and Dolak was trying to shave my legs. I kicked him away, and started talking to the guys about bullshit that I don't remember. Then I felt my head.
My hair felt all fucked up. Now my hair was pretty damn long, and I kinda liked it. I could feel cuts into my hair down to my forehead, and I realized they'd cut the shit out of my hair. Oh yeah, I shaved my beard last Tuesday. Forgot to update that. So anyway, I look in the mirror, and it's fuckin' terrible. They butchered everything. I went crazy. I started ripping into them, just telling them that you don't do that shit to someone, no matter how mad you get. The thing is that if I'd done the same thing to them, they'd be twice as pissed as I was, and I was fucking furious. Actually, that is not true for Otter...
So I'm going crazy. I'm yelling mean shit at them, stuff about their sisters, stuff about their girlfriends. It was ridiculous. I wanted my fucking hair back. The funny part is that all the while this is happening, Dolak is silently trying to shave my legs, and I keep kicking him away, but he keeps kneeling and trying to shave. He wasn't even laughing or anything... it was just weird and funny. Kinda sucks now though; my left calf is all fucked up. Somehow, I got into a fight with Otter. I was laying down, and he challenged that I couldn't get up and do something about it, if I remember correctly. I probably don't. Anyway, I got up, wrestled with him, got him in a choke hold, and threw him into a mirror. He stopped for a bit, and I started complaining again, then he fuckin' jacked me in the face when I wasn't looking. I tried to wrestle him, but Theo tackled me and I let up, crawling against the wall and continuing to bitch about how they crossed the line. At one point I look at my hands; they're all covered in blood. I guess my nose was bleeding like crazy or something. Otter got up, and stormed out of the room. He was gone for like half an hour. Then, I don't remember how, but everything kinda settled down. I was just sitting on the floor by the door.
Andy got up, and came to talk to me about it all, and he actually did apologize (still the only one who has said sorry). I thought this was pretty fucking cool of him, considering how mad they must have been. We just talked about stuff, and eventually I broke down and started crying. I was so frustrated with everything that had happened, I just opened up. Andy says, "Man, are you that insecure about your hair that you'd cry if it got cut off?" well I guess I am. Which is funny, because it seems these days that my appearance doesn't really mean shit. I wonder what he'd have done. Anyway, our conversation must have woken the Otter. This is where Otter became the coolest guy to come on the trip.
He got Andy's razor, and said he'd shave his head to make me feel better. At first I was like, "Dude, don't shave your head. Why the fuck would you do that? It's not gonna get me my hair back." But eventually he talked me into it, and he started to shave his head. I was laughing finally, and once he got half of it gone (the whole front forehead part), I told him it looked so damn funny he had to keep it. It was hilarious. Then it came my turn. I tried to do it myself, but it didn't work. I asked Brian to do it. (Otter's real name is Brian.) I wanted a horseshoe haircut. I thought it'd be funny.
Looking back, I probably could have done a better job salvaging it. The rest would have filled it, but at the time I said fuck it and got the horseshoe. "Bic it! Bic it!" I said over and over again. I Biced it bald. Then I went to bed. I got up to film some good footage of Otter snoring and everyone squirming in their beds, but still couldn't sleep. The fucking pipes under the sink hit my knees, and the space was only like 4 and a half feet long. I got to bed finally, but it was probably close to 5 or 6. Damn, what a fucked up day.
9:53 PM
I've just thought that I should probably be writing these in reverse order, so that when they're posted the first day will be Thursday, not Sunday. Well, once I'm done I can fix it all.
9:09 PM
Thursday.
Thursday was pretty much like any Thursday, really. I include it in the weekend mainly because it just kinda flowed into the actual weekend, and also because it really does belong with the rest of the days, for obvious reasons. So I went to my acting class, and all went well. Normal day, normal shit. I skipped my calc class, like I often do on Thursdays. It's OK though, because we don't have a quiz on Tuesday because there is no class on Tuesday. Boo yah. So shit, what else happened on Thursday? Oh yeah... football game. So we had our last football game, and that was all and well. Afterwards we decided to have people over to our place. So all these guys that I'm planning on going on this trip with on Friday needed me to hook them up with beer. No problem I thought, until Tim kinda backed out because his girlfriend stopped by. Still no problem, I've got other friends. I start panicking when everyone is busy or working. Mandy decides to buy Nate and I beer, and I decide to try and pick up some of the order that night, just to be safe. I give her 20, and ask for a 30 of Keystone and whatever else. 12 pack bottles of Bud Light are on sale, and I can get two for 10 bucks. Cool, I thought. I eventually get Jake to hook me up the next morning, but that was an adventure in itself. So basically what I'm saying is I drank a case of Bud Light bottles on Thursday, and that I was very drunk. I didn't pass out, but I was probably very stupid, obnoxious, and annoying. I also made a ridiculous bet with Shannon that she wouldn't call me on Friday, and if she did I paid her 5 dollars. What was I thinking?
9:08 PM
This past weekend.
So it's been a day since I returned from the infamous road trip to Oklahoma to watch the Oklahoma St./Nebraska football game. This turned out to be a very dissapointing trip in a lot of respects, but I'll probably look back on it as a turning point in my life. I learned a lot about myself the past four days. I'll start with Thursday.
9:05 PM
Wednesday, October 16, 2002
This is ridiculous. I'm going to bed.
12:45 AM
Christ. It lets me type, but doesn't let me see what I typed. I guess this means I can't delete it, either. Well Goddamn it.
12:42 AM
Blah. My editing page is fucked. Unfix it.
12:42 AM
Monday, October 14, 2002
Many thanks to my new friend Andrea for teaching me how to improve this page. It's still pretty shitty right now, but when I figure out how to get the live stripper cams and online gambling set up, this place will be quite the shit.
4:21 AM
Today is story day.
The Toenail Story
Anyway, we decided not to have a kegger, but just have a lot of people that we knew over to hang out and drink at our place. We were all going to grill steaks, and just drink and hang out. So we started at about 9:30 or so. Got the party ball, and were gonna grill.
So anyway, right when we're about to cook, this drunk guy comes over and sits on our porch and starts talking about how somebody put a Busch Light can in his mailbox. He's really white trash, and really fucking drunk too. Turns out his name was Trampus, "And if'n any you mothfuckas wanna make fun of it, you'd better dos it right and now!!" Shit, he was wasted.
So after a while, the novelty wore off, and my roommate and I decided to walk to his house and ask his wife to call him home. He kept saying he was from two doors down, so we figured that's where he lived. We could see his wife staring at him from the porch a ways down through the bushes.
So I go first up to the house that is two doors down. Through the window I see a black lady sitting in a chair, and I wave, thinking 'Hmmm. His wife didn't look black, but I'm not going to judge.' She finally calls me in.
I open the door and stand halfway in and halfway out. The woman that called me in has no arms. Just stubs. Then across the room is a white man on the couch and a black woman laying on his lap. I fucking froze. Wrong house.
I was just like, "Uh... uh... uh..." and they were all looking at me. Finally the white guy goes, "Who are you?" in a total drawl. I just stood there. Then he goes, "Get outta my house!" and I was like, "Uh... um... uh..." and then the black lady with no arms yells at me like the bitch from Pi "Go on! Get outta here!" I just go, "Uh... sorry... uh..." and fucking ran out of there. Creepy as shit, and they live two doors down.
So we finally got that drunk guy off the porch and were making our steaks and getting properly trashed. There were a lot of people here, and a lot of hot girls at that, so it was a nice night. My roommate cooked the steaks to perfection; they were fucking fantastic. Everything's going good. Then my other roommate got the idea to climb the school that is right across the street.
We've done it a couple times, but only I and my other roommate. It's pretty fucking sweet up there, but it's a challenge to make your way up. Needless to say, we were not in any condition to climb up this fucking school. I grabbed a bottle of sparkling cider that my roommate's mom had just given him, and we headed up there. Climbing with the bottle was pretty hard.
There was this hot girl I hang out with in front of me, and she's like, "Oh, you're totally going to look up my skirt, but that's cool." and started up the scaffolding. I was like, "No, no. I'll look away, don't worry." and I totally looked up her skirt. Nice. Anyway, her and this other guy bitched out of going all the way to the top, and it was just me and two other guys that made it up there.
I couldn't unscrew the top of the cider, so I just busted the neck off and christened the roof with it. It was good stuff. My crazy roommate got on the very top ledge of the roof, it's like this castle part. That was fucked up, but finally we decided to go back.
I made my way back thank God, but somewhere inbetween the jumping off the different roofs of the school and climbing up the bricks and scaffolding I busted the shit out of my toe. Did I mention that I was drunk and wasn't wearing any shoes? Yeah. So I got back and noticed that both my feet were cut to shit, and my toe was bleeding like crazy. Some girl suggested that I wash it off, so I put it up in the sink, and while I was washing it I kinda pulled my toenail off. It was fucking crazy. My roommates were all like, "Whoa! You gotta frame that!" Haha.
That was about three weeks ago. Since then, my toe has healed to some degree. It is still without nail, but I think that could grow back in time. However, I think my left ankle is still suffering from a fall I took that same night, from about a 12 foot drop climbing down from one of the school's many ledges. It hurts to bend in some different directions and angles.
As for the neighbors, I've seen Trampus here and there, but no sign of the armless crazy black lady. And this is definitely a good thing.
1:47 AM
Although it sometimes seems as if I'm a caring, considerate, and generally nice guy, I'm really a horrible, uncaring individual. I steal things without remorse, I damage private property. I steal Chemistry books that cost someone a hundred and twenty dollars, and I sell it back to the school to pay for a tap for a keg. I damage something so special to someone else that it makes them cry, and then I celebrate in taking it from them. I decorate my house with shit other people took time to make and put up, and I just steal it.
I say I wish that someone would die, and then they do die. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I can give back the Chemistry book, and I can buy a new snowman, and I can put back all the signs, but I can't bring somebody back to life, or make myself feel any better about their death. And I don't know who to tell I'm sorry.
1:41 AM
Thursday, October 10, 2002
I had acting class this morning. My partner and I were supposed to meet individually with our prof so that he could give us tips and stuff concerning our scenes that we have together. My partner still hasn't memorized his fucking lines, and we've known about it forever. I've had mine memorized since the first fucking day we got them. Like two weeks ago. I mean I'm probably a really shitty actor, but it's hard as hell when you don't have cues or anything to work off of because your partner always breaks character and doesn't know his lines.
Anyway, while I'm waiting to go, this Joe guy tells me that he and this Robin girl had a discussion about my eyes. Robin is a nice girl, but I'm not interested in her whatsoever. She's kindof a ditzy sorority sister, and I'm not attracted to her at all. She's nice enough though. Anyway I guess she said something to the effect of, 'He's got really sexy eyes but I wish he'd cut his bangs so that I could see them.' So that got me thinking.
Is it bullshit when someone says you have sexy eyes? This is the second time I've heard this from someone, and the first time someone told me that I kinda got the impression later on that it was a bullshit copout. See, maybe it's just me. I can't think of three girls that I would say have sexy eyes, or eyes that really make me say, "Jeepers creepers, look at those peepers!" It seems like an attempt to say something nice when you can't say anything nice really. I dunno, that's just me I guess.
Still haven't gotten any fanmail. I check my inbox once every 15 minutes, anxiously awaiting responses, but nothing so far.
12:40 PM
Monday, October 07, 2002
The Acting Class Story.
In my acting class the first week, the assignment was to tell the class either your best day, or your worst day. I think the point was to get across the idea that acting is storytelling, and also to get people more comfortable infront of everyone else.
Now most of the other people, in fact all but one, are pretty dumb. This other guy was in a film class with me last semester, so I know he's kinda cool, but the rest are all non majors just taking the class for the fun of it, since they thought it would be easy or whatever. Anyway, all their stories are gay. We had to show movie clips of what we felt to be good acting in class a couple weeks ago. This gave me a pretty good feeling of what they were like. There were a couple Office Spaces, a Shallow Hal, and some dumb bitch even brought in Alladin. Alladin.
Anyway, all the stories are either happy ("I won the four by four relays when I was a freshman! I had so many friends because I was fast!") or sad ("One day on the way to school my tire popped and I had to wait and wait and it was awful and oh yeah I also stepped in some mud and got my jeans all dirty!"). So the night before we were to tell our stories, I told my roommates that what I really wanted to do was to concoct a very sad story, and act it out all emotional. I figured it would totally throw off the feel of the class, and I also just wanted to do it to fuck around, since I have the bad habit of doing that all the time. I was hesitant though, because I didn't think I could pull it off.
Anyway, it comes my turn. Everyone is all lighthearted, and I'd been nervous and shy all period on purpose. My roommate had convinced me to do it in exchange for a ride to class, so I knew I really couldn't let him down. I was also feeling pretty confident, so I went balls to the wall and did it. And I fucking nailed it.
I told the story of how my brother rolled the car on the last night of school, and how I was too drunk to notice he even crashed it. The fact that he died in my story made my drunkeness really sad and fucked up, and it worked really well. I concluded with a half sobbing, "And then Josh got me in his truck, and we went to town. And that's when they told me that my brother was dead." Then I just kinda shook for a few minutes, sniffled, and then said softly, "Bad day." The whole class stared at me, silent. This lasted at least a minute or two. Finally my prof says, "Thanks for sharing that Matt." It was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing. I just nodded, head down.
It sits silently for a few moments, then finally my professor claims that they don't do it often, but he's gonna call class early today (at least 20 min.) because of lack of anything else to do. "We'll do it next time." He says. Everyone is just staring at me. My story had been the complete opposite of everyone elses... nobody knows what to say. I give a very pathetic "See ya." to this hot chick that sits by me, and turn to the door. Behind me she tries to say goodbye, but it comes out all strange, like she doesn't know what to say.
I had planned on telling them that I was just kidding that day, but it went over so well that I think I'm just going to wait until it comes up in class again, and then I'll just say, "Oh yeah... that was total bullshit." And just start laughing. I just find it fucking hilarious that I lied to my whole class, and now everything is awkward as shit around me. It's great.
7:50 PM
The TGIF Incident.
I was eating at TGIF on Sunday with Derek, and I got up to use the restroom. While washing my hands, I noticed that the cold water handle made a very obnoxious annoying noise when you turned it on. I played with that for a while, laughing to myself as I sat down. I told him about it, and he got up to go try it out himself.
He got back, claiming that the handle that I described neither made a funny noise, nor was it the cold water handle. I was confused, because I was certain I was right. At this point a waitress that usually sits with us for some strange reason (we go almost every Sunday, and she works on Sundays) claimed that the handle in the girl's bathroom did the same thing I described. I knew I was right about which handle it was, so I went back in to double check.
When I went in, there was a woman at the sink that I was trying to check. I was focused on which handle was the right one, so I looked over her shoulder, to try and peek at the cold water handle. She noticed me, and turned around, terrified. I must admit that my appearance right now is something out of Teen Wolf, so I'm sure I frightened her. I pointed at the handle, and said, "Oh.. I'm... uh... sorry, I just wanted to..." Trying to explain what I was doing using hand gestures and mumbles. Finally I turned and walked back to our table. I claimed that Derek was dead wrong, and that I had the right faucet.
We were eating, when about 10 minutes later this lady comes to me and I realize that she is the manager of this TGIF. She asks me, "Excuse me, but did you just grab a woman's hand in the Ladies Restroom??" I was puzzled. I didn't grab anyone's hand. I was never in the woman's restroom... oh wait. Then the fact that there was a lady in the bathroom at the sink and the fact that Derek had found different results with the faucet and the fact that the waitress claimed that "it does that in the girl's bathroom too." suddenly clicked, and I realized that I had not only gone in the girl's restroom once, but twice, and didn't realize it. I started laughing, realizing the hilarity of the situation.
The manager was not amused, and she just stared at me awaiting an explanation. I told her I had never grabbed anybody, but that yes, I recall going into the girl's bathroom. I attempted a failed explanation of the situation, but I couldn't get across the humor or the mistake, and she was still not satisfied.
"You really scared her." She said. "She is thinking of calling the police." Despite this, I still thought the whole thing was fucking hilarious, and I continued to laugh amidst attempts at explaining the whole thing. Finally, she was fed up, and I again told her I never grabbed anyone and apologized for the whole thing. The police never came, and I guess the manager got it all straightened out. I still think it's pretty damn funny.
Update to this story: The police actually did come, and filled out a report and all that stuff. I never got in trouble for it though, so it's not a big deal.
7:47 PM
Story day. Today is a special day. You get two stories instead of one. This is because I found a couple stories that I'd already written, so all I had to do was cut and paste.
Also, I'm going to start a weekly letter to the editor sort of thing. If you have questions, comments, or anything you want to send me, email it to me at broncosfan51@hotmail.com, and when I get enough I'll post them and answer them here.
7:45 PM
Sunday, October 06, 2002
I have a problem with nostalgia. Coming back to the house on weekends really does it for me. The simplest things I do remind me of everything related to that act, and it's kind of strange and depressing at the same time. For instance driving the car into town at night and driving around hoping to see someone that I know is quite an adventure in itself. Like a lot of things, it reminds me of the Simpsons.
"Before, before, before! You're living in the past Marge! Stop living in the past!"
I don't reckon that it's anything that is new to anyone else. I'd think that in my case it's a little more prevalent, although there is probably no way to defend that. I don't know what it stems from, but it's annoying and enjoyable at the exact same time. I drive my car around streets, going nowhere in particular, and I set the radio on absolutely shitty music. And it's fantastic. And only for the simple reason that at one point in time, months ago, I was doing the exact same thing, and more than likely I was enjoying myself. It's just fucking weird I suppose.
10:35 PM
Another funny thing that Jake said.
Jake had called me earlier to tell me when he worked because I was going to take some pictures of him for my photography class. When I talked to him tonight, he said that I should have came to Wal Mart where he works today, because it was Mr. Potatohead's 50th birthday. He said that Mr. Potatohead was there, and you could take pictures with him.
I said, "Really? So like it was a costume?"
And Jake goes, "No, it was the real Mr. Potatohead."
1:47 AM
Jake Fyfe: Funnist Person I Know
So there's this guy named Jake. Jake is well known in my book for his whole TGIB (Thank Goodness It's Babies) routine. That shit is classic.
Some funny things recently said by Jake:
At the 24 hour McDonalds a couple nights ago, we were waiting in the drive through. This chick is standing by herself by this rail outside the establishment. I hang my head out and heckle her a bit. We start hassling her a bit. I make the comment, "Hey, you know I was gonna order a Cutie Pie, but seeing as you're right here... " And that got a laugh, but it prompted Jake to say, "Hey, could I get a McSexy with fries please?" Damn, that was funny.
Later on in the drive through, Jake cracked some shit up big time. We finally got to the ordering box, and the lady said that the register was broken and that we couldn't order. We had decided to use British accents for this trip to McDonalds, so we all started bitching about how we wanted food. Then Jake says to the lady (in a very nice British accent), "You know, I happen to have a McDonalds cash register here with me in the car. You can use it if you like." This got a whole lot of laughs; I was dying. Then Jake says, "I must have it back by Wednesday though." Haha, holy Jesus. Then after no response Jake goes on, "It's not calibrated for American dollars, but I'm sure that if you have a calculator we can work something out. There must be a currency exchange place at the mall down the street." Excellent.
Then tonight, Nate was making note to self comments, and somebody started making fun of what he said. Then Jake said, "Note to self: get a recorder so that everything I say when I say 'note to self' I'll actually be able to remember." Man, I don't know if it's just me, but that was damn funny.
The Cure is fucking awesome.
1:40 AM
Wednesday, October 02, 2002
A Fun Game To Play!
I tend to do this whenever I'm shopping with someone I know at Wal Mart, or a store like it.
Whenever you are walking by the hardware department or the place in the store that sells caulk, start saying loudly to your friend, "Hey Johnny! There's some cock! Didn't you want some cock? You were screaming for some cock last night!" If they start to get embarrased or laugh, just keep at it. "What's the matter? I thought you said you wanted me to give you some cock last night? Well I can get you some here!" Then if you are walking by someone that works there, go up to them and say, "Excuse me, but my friend was wondering where the cock is. He really wants some cock, but he's too shy to ask for it. Do you know where the cock is around here? He really wants some bad."
I did this to one of my roommates tonight really good. One of the employees told me that if I wanted some cock then I should "go to O street (main street in town) tonight."
Anyway, you should try it sometime.
11:35 PM
This morning I thought up a brilliant new cereal. Cheez-It cereal. I just finished my box of large sized Cheez-It snack crackers last night, and damned if they weren't delicious. Anyway, if you could bake the Cheez-It so that it was roughly the size of a Cheerio I think you'd be able to eat it with a spoon in a bowl of some sort. My roommate asked me what that would taste like with milk, and I don't know because I don't eat milk on cereal. I think eating milk on cereal is one of the stupidest things ever. Anyway, as good as Cheez-Its are I have a hard time believing that milk could fuck them up, but then again I tried milk on a bowl of Frosted Flakes and I couldn't believe what had happened. So you would not eat milk with your Cheez-Its. For the commercial, I'm thinking that this kid no older than 6 would wake up, go to the kitchen, and discover that they are out of cereal. He would sit down, and begin to cry. Then this magical mouse would come out from under a vent, and ask the boy why he was crying. The boy would respond that they are out of his favorite cereal, Gobs of Sugar. The mouse would give a chuckle, and tell the boy not to worry. Then he'd leap all the way up to a top pantry where the family kept their box of large sized Cheez-It snack crackers. He'd fly down to the table that was next to the child, and pull out one of the Cheez-It crackers. Then he'd pull a giant fucking sledgehammer out of nowhere, and smash the Cheez-It into all these little bite size squares. There would be a lot of magic sparkle all over the place, and then all the little squares would fly into the Cheez-It box, and the mouse himself with is big fucking hammer would fly and magically appear on the box, and it would now say Cheez-It Cereal on it. The boy would be overjoyed, and fix himself a giant bowl. Maybe when he tried to put milk on his bowl, the mouse would hit him with the hammer and say, "Now Timmy, Cheez-It Cereal is so good that you don't need milk!" then the boy would sit down at the table with his bowl, take a giant spoonfull, and exclaim, "I declare this cereal delicious!"
11:01 AM
Monday, September 30, 2002
Well, a very frustrating evening. Everything about the day was frustrating actually. I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep because magically during the night my bed had changed to a water bed but only instead of water it was my sweat, and instead of the water (sweat) being inside the mattress it was all over the outside and the sheets and shit. So I was tired as shit as a result of that. And to top it off, Nate was sleeping on the couch since it was so fucking hot, and I couldn't play any video games or watch TV. Then I went to class and I didn't like that much but when I came home I didn't get a chance to watch my movie because I was called back to Seward to get my knee checked up on. Good news; it's healthy. But I still didn't get to see my fucking movie and that shit's like 3 hours long, so I'm going to have to do that tommorow. So I'm dead fucking tired and the doctor makes me wait for almost two hours before he can tell me that I'm fine, and then I have to go all the way back to Lincoln. But at least I get to watch Denver on TV tonight. Denver on TV tonight was fucking pathetic. Yes, it's quite childish to get all upset about a football game, but I think I'm compounding everything into that and channeling it through. Whatever it is, I don't really give a fuck. This is your cue to say, "Gosh Vermiel, why don't you cry about it?" WELL I AM FUCKING CRYING.
10:25 PM
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