Because I Can

I started this blog to keep up with friends.

I dont have those friends anymore.

This Blog is Done

Just cause it's been a while

Highlight of my weekend:

"I kinda wanna go play video games now."
"...You're not too good at this whole afterglow thing"

First off, an appreciation. The movie He's just not that into you was suprisingly entertaining considering that it was the last possibility that all parties agreed upon. If you're looking for a light romantic comedy that goes easy on the cheeze factor, See it. If you have unresolved relationship issues, avoid like the plague.

Civilization III has consumed my soul, and i'm not the only one.

Its been a while since my last blog post about random thoughts i feel like rambling on about. I would appreciate any suggestions that can be applied to next time.

My shadow told me i was boring

In case anyone wasn't paying attention, it is the dead of winter out there. Now i usually go without shaving for 4 or 5 days, becuase a few days worth of fuzz helps ward off the bitter chill. This morning i decided it was finally time to cut the lawn, but before i finished the job, i decided to test drive a goatee to see how it would work out.

The test failed, thats all i have to say about that.

While walking back from philosophy class, one of my classmates started limping a little funny, i ask him whats wrong, and he looks at me and says "the gopher popped out of the rabbit hole"
At that point i decided to stop socialising, its not worth it.

Brittany has also brought to my attention that the time stamps on these blog posts are off. I've decided not to change them. It adds to the mystique.

The moon mocks me at 4am

So last night i pulled an all-nighter

This was unfortunate becasue i didn't have anything to do or study, i simply could not for the life of me fall asleep.

Lady luck went down on me

So this is a post that was a long time in coming. Many events led me to this.

I once had a goldfish. It was gold, and a fish, hence a goldfish, and all it did was swim around its tank in lazy circles. Therefore, it was useless.

I once had a Zipcard, my campus ID, which i use to purchase food. When i get hungry, i easily swipe away at that little piece of plastic with a rather hideous picture of me on it until i am satisfied. Therefore it is not useless.

I lost that goldfish, i didn't really mind.
I lost my Zipcard, i minded a whole hell of a lot.

Imagine the euphoria i felt monday learning that i would be given the opportunity to face the new and interesting challenge of either finding that stupid piece of plastic or not eating.

Tuesday, after an exhaustive search, i go to the zipcard office and prepare myself to pay to have a new card made up for me. Mr. behind-the-counter follows standard opperating procedure however, and checks the card lost and found first. Now imagine my frustration when he pops up with my current card, denying me that oh so wonderful option of paying for a new one. I check the balance on the card and realise that whoever found it didn't even bother to empty the considerable balance off the card on cheap alcohol and fries from the sizzle zone.

All kidding aside though, Thank you whoever found my zipcard, wherever it got off to, and esp thank you for keeping my finances intact.

Another brick in the wall

Yesterday i did nothing
Tommorow i will continue to do nothing
Today there was a lot of nothing but there was also alcohol, i guess thats something

Yay me!

Side note: I have a complex issue. I am a guy, and therefore i have sex in my mind more often then not. It's not a stretch of the imagination to believe that i think about sex a lot. The problem arises when sex influences how i communicate with people. This problem has been brought to my attention by a party who does not think that i have the capability to change my ways, or break my habbits.

So here i stand. I am announcing this issue to whoever cares enough to read about it. I am also publicly vowing that i will not bring sexual innuendo, suggestions, or conversation into any type of communication that i am involved in. Should i break this vow, i will be judged by the public opinion by announcing here my failure to follow through.

Better late than Never

I had lots of fun little adventures yesterday that i've been meaning to get out into cyberspace. If i was a man who was dilligent in following his to-do list, i would have made this post last night. Lucky me, my friends know better than that.

The Snow Day: a phenomenon that brings tears of joy to the faces of even the most jaded child. It's ability to turn an otherwise routine 24 hours into euphoria borders on the mystical. Though the following story illustrates why its very important to confirm it is indeed a snow day before throwing the clock against something solid and unmoving.

Yesterday morning, about 9am, After being soundly asleep for about 5 hours, i get awoken by Jared. He informs me that the university is closed and classes are canceled. I celebrate in a manner as joyous as it was appropriate; i cancel my alarm and fall back asleep. At the happy hour of 1pm i wake back up. The problem being that i dont quite remember if Jared truly woke me up and told me classes were cancelled, or if i dreamed the whole exchange. Panic sets in. A quick consult with my text messages confirms that Akron was indeed shut down, and that it was safe for my blood pressure to drop.

The thing about snow days is that they usually involve vast quantities of snow. The thing about private snow plows is that they dont care where they push the snow their being paid to clear away. This brings about the very destructive formula:

Lots of snow + dumbass plow drivers + my car = Very unfortunate situation

After being snowed in all day, men have a tendancy to get hungry. They also have a tendancy to want other things, but thats neither here nor there. A trip to the 24hr diner is called for. And in the bitter bitter cold we got yet one more suprise. We no longer had cars. We had snow piles that had been packed in by mentally handicapped plow drivers. This led to an experience that involved a broken scraper, plenty of cussing, a lot of kicking, and pulling snow away with bare hands. Previous investment in a shovel was mentioned in passing several times.

And on a final note: 77 was designed by a demon looking for a promotion to the 7th circle of hell, becasue the pain and frustration it causes when you are trying to get to class is epic

Lets play a game

A new week begins.

I have a few options here. I can conjure deep heartfelt sonnets inspired by ancient muses of lore and myth. Or i can play a word association game. This being my blog and since i hold the only vote that counts, im doing the latter.

The rules are simple, im going to a news streaming site, randomly select 5 (count em five) new stories, and find the deep right-wing conspiracy that connects them all. For we all know that there is no such thing as fate, and all events in this world are guided by the shadowy hands of 5 guys in a basement in southern Baltimore.

Alrighty, lets see what skull and bones has been up to...
Becasue of its lyrical quality, first up is "Sigourney Weaver flashes her Beaver"
"After 30 Arsons, town residents want answers" thats a real eye catcher
I'll go with "Sex drive linked to prostrate cancer" cause it scares the holy hell outta me
"Prince Harry dumped on facebook by Chelsy Davy" cause i was hurting for characters
and finally "Kentucky has highest smoking death rate" because everyone hates Kentucky

There is a man named fred. Fred is a rebel, a maverick, he plays by nobodys rules but his own. The only problem with fred is the amount of sex he has. Its obscene! And by obscene i mean profane in a way that makes mothers clutch the ears of their children half a world away. He is truly following those ancient instincts bestowed by the y chromosone, inserting into those woman deemed worthy the great and mighty seed of Fred. Fred died of prostrate cancer well before his time, yet one of the many illigetimate children he sired was Mark Zuckerburg who went on to found the online titan known as Facebook. This website would one day facillitate the break up between prince Harry and Chelsy Davy. Harry, now single, indicated on his Facebook profile that he thought woman who smoked were hot, and due to a server error, this tidbit only appeared on computers in Kentucky. I'm not exactly sure how thats possible, but please suspend disbelief.

Almost overnight, millions of woman all accross Kentucky started chainsmoking like those little cancer sticks were the dicks of God himself. Unfortunately, the town of Frogballs had a delay in their ashtray shipment. Millions of cigarettes were being tossed willy-nilly on the ground, in bushes, on grandmothers, leading to a spree of fires that were marketed as arsons in order to draw the hip young pyro tourist industry, and cover up for that one boy scout merrit badge attempt that went horribly horribly wrong.....

Sigourny Weaver, who knew she could never compete with a whole state full of southern belles, and unwilling to compromise her lungs, let Harry know she was interested by giving him a high profile gander at the goodies that are all his for the taking.


And in the shadows, 5 men clink glasses of brandy and smile hardy conspiratorial grins

I'm offically old

I am not a long post kind of person. I dont have that kind of time, inclination, or attention span. So I originally planned on spending a paragraph and a half going on about my soul-crushingly boring day. Jared took offense to the length i had choosen. So here; two full paragraphs of every thought off the top of my cerebral cortex.

Good news: theres a new family member on the way. Better news: Its not mine. Anthony gives me a call early today, appearently the polyeurathane and other superfund site worthy chemcials that we sucked up on our daily jobs had less of an impact on his sailors then on mine. Carlas got a bun in the oven and the next generation has begun.

This means two things: One: we again have somebody in the family who believes in Santa Claus, so i gotta dig up my big red suit. Two: I am now old. It is now expected of me that i actually do something worthwhile with my life; so two kids, a morgage and alimony is now looming in my near future.

*sidenote : there is not a single Sonic restaurant in a hundred and fifty miles. Why is every other commercial while im watching burn notice about the allegedly amazing drive-through they have.

You should get a hobby

Well i think for a first post, a little disclaimer is appropriate.

Get a hobby

If you are reading this now (and esp if for some reason you continue to read this in the future) you are probably either lost and need to be redirected to a blog that actually matters, attached to me in some horribly unhealthy way, or have time to kill and are feeling masochistic. In any of these cases, a hobby thats constructive will do you far more good then attempting to sift through my posted thoughts. Your genetalia will thank you.

Second disclaimer:
My spelling is bad, i know this, get over it.