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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
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