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
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