Quick: Who sings the song from which the title is taken?
Friday before work I took a shower with a spider. Actually, it's just because this little spider was hanging out by the shower head, and spiders don't really bother me as long as they're not in my bedroom. Besides, the bugs are bad this year, and if this little guy will keep the scary guys away, I'm OK with that. I am a little weirded out that a thing with so many eyes has seen me naked.
I've started watching the first season of 24. I think I've been near cardiac arrest at least seven times already.
I spent my Saturday chillin' with Jessie, her sister Claire, and her no-longer-three-year-old brother Cliff. And I felt OLD. Yes, the capital letters are necessary.
Jessie and I saw Batman Begins, which was awesome, and not just because Christian Bale looks really good in black, although that did help.
Newsflash: I might go to Hawaii over Fall Break to chill with Jessie in a beach setting. Don't worry - I've already inquired, and there are no volcanoes on her island. I can travel in peace without fear of being brought to a painful death via liquid molten rock. Ouch!
Friday at work, as usual, some chicks asked for Greg's number at the drive-thru. This is getting ridiculous. He gets digits every time he works - it's truly impressive. Friday, he was SICK! I don't get digits when I'm well.
Nota Bene: I do have Greg's number, so if you want it, it's much classier to ask me than to go through the Starbucks drive through and say, "We were just here and we wanted to get Greg's number." The greatest thing: The chicks are always barely legal at best. Ha!
My mom let me drive her car today - woot! Air conditioner for all to enjoy!
Cox's cat died, so if you know him and you haven't already offered your condolences, what are you waiting for, you insensitive bastard? The title of his current post is so great that I've decided to pick Everlast's "The Ends" for my song of the day. Who says only people named Cox can have blowjob references?
Everything must change.
Ends, some people will rob their mother
For the ends, rats snitch on one another
For the ends, sometimes kids get murdered
For the ends, so before we go any further
I want my ends
I knew this cat named Darrell, he didn't have a dollar
He was Harvard material, Ivy League scholar
Had a Ph.D., had an M.B.A.
But now he's waiting tables cause there's rent to pay
Companies downsizing, inflation's rising
Can't find a job, he's feeling kind of stressed
Doesn't even feel the effects when he says
Forgot to count how many times he been blessed
So he falls off track, starts smoking the crack
And once it hits his brain, it starts to chain react
He sells the shirt off his back, shoes off his feet
He's losing all his teeth, now he's out in the street
And all of sudden he's like Jesse James
Trying to stick up kids for their watches and chains
But he's from business school, and he's nervous with the tool
So he ends up on his back in a bloody pool
For the ends...etc.
I knew this chick named Sally, she had a nice strut
And everywhere that I went, she was up in the cut
Swinging that butt, like race you out here
Only rapped the benz, and rocked the fly gear
Brand name wearing, champagne waving
Jewels around the neck, a life style she's craving
Ain't no saving, she's doing enough spending
If you do the lending, she'll do the bending
Straight machine vending, it's money for take
Shopping sprees get her on her knees
And if you hit her with keys to your crib, you acting funny
Come home one day, find her counting out your money
From the Wetlands, all the way to the Apollo
If you're broke she's spittin, and if you're rich she might swallow
For the ends...etc.
I knew these two homeboys, that made a lot of noise
Making money on the block, kids was on they jock
They was tougher than leather like Reverend Run
DMC, they was toting guns
Holdin' weight, goin' out of state
Stackin' mad chips, and pushin' phat whips
Fly jewels and clothes, and got no job
And then one disappeared, and one got robbed
For the ends...etc.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
Couch Potatoes: Scattered And Smothered
So I went home last night because I needed to give my mom my emissions test stuff so she can renew my tags. The air in the bonus room (the other upstairs). Well, when I got home, my sister was on the couch in the bonus room, and my mom was on the downstairs couch, leaving me with nowhere to sleep. My pillows were also in use, so even if I had wanted to sleep in my bed in my 80something-degree room, I couldn't have done so. Drat. Eventually my mom woke up and went back to her bed (my dad woke her up by snoring), and I had a couch to sleep on.
I had to work today, and then I had to buy a shit-ton of light bulbs because Tina and I live in the dark. I bought 12 regular bulbs (and I'm still one short of filling all the vacancies), 2 for my bedside lamp, and 2 black lights for my overhead in my bedroom. I'm not too big on bright lights, and black lights rock.
Now I'm going to eat some bacon and watch some OnDemand, because I, too, am acouch bed potato.
I had to work today, and then I had to buy a shit-ton of light bulbs because Tina and I live in the dark. I bought 12 regular bulbs (and I'm still one short of filling all the vacancies), 2 for my bedside lamp, and 2 black lights for my overhead in my bedroom. I'm not too big on bright lights, and black lights rock.
Now I'm going to eat some bacon and watch some OnDemand, because I, too, am a
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Great Minds Think Alike...Especially When It Comes to Capers
I was going to post this yesterday, but I thought I'd hold off for dramatic effect. Or to have more posts. That's probably it.
Manda and I went to the vending machines during production, and none of the machines would take dollar bills. I was saving my quarters for the tire air, so I was pretty frustrated. Here's how it went down:
Manda: "I can't believe that none of the machines in the building will take dollars."
(Wendy and Manda look at one another, then say, in unison): "Teachers' lounge!"
Sure enough, the machines in the faculty lounge took my dollar, and all was well.
Last night, I had planned on cleaning. But I ended up on the roof of the AGR house, followed by some drinking with some of the guys, including, yes, Paul Bryant Fulcher.
Follow this link to see a picture of my sister that ran on the front page of the local section of yesterday's Tennessean. People have two reactions when seeing us together: "You two look nothing alike!" or "You look exactly alike!"
I lean toward looking nothing alike. Once she hit high school, Misty was the pretty one, and I remained, and do to this day, the smart one. I'm OK with that. And it's comforting to know she'll always be older than I am, even if it is only by 15 months.
Yesterday I got an e-mail about Presidium 2005, a weekend-long retreat I'll be sent on to canoe, do a ropes course, and probably do all kinds of "bonding" activities with the presidents of other student organizations. From what the e-mail said, one member of each organization has to attend. The copy I got was just sent to the Greek presidents, though. I hope that's the case. I don't know if I can handle all the Greek presidents AND the Raider Republicans.
Song of the Day: I was going to pick something by Exile, but I can't find much. I dig them, though. I opted for "Like A Stone" by Audioslave.
On a cobweb afternoon
In a room full of emptiness
by the freeway
I confess I was lost in the pages
of a book full of death
reading how we'll die alone
and if we're good we'll lay to rest
in the way we want to go
In your house I long to be
room by room
patiently
I'll wait for you there
like a stone
I'll wait for you there
alone
And on my deathbed
I will pray to god and the angels
Like a pagan
To anyone who will take me to heaven
To a place
I recall
I was there so long ago
The sky was bruised
The wine was bled
And there you led me on
In your house
I long to be
room by room
patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone
Alone
And on I read
Until the day was gone
And I sat in regret
Of all the things I've done
For all that I've blessed
And all the things I've wronged
In my dreams until my death
I will wonder on
In your house
I long to be
Room by room
Patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone
Alone
Manda and I went to the vending machines during production, and none of the machines would take dollar bills. I was saving my quarters for the tire air, so I was pretty frustrated. Here's how it went down:
Manda: "I can't believe that none of the machines in the building will take dollars."
(Wendy and Manda look at one another, then say, in unison): "Teachers' lounge!"
Sure enough, the machines in the faculty lounge took my dollar, and all was well.
Last night, I had planned on cleaning. But I ended up on the roof of the AGR house, followed by some drinking with some of the guys, including, yes, Paul Bryant Fulcher.
Follow this link to see a picture of my sister that ran on the front page of the local section of yesterday's Tennessean. People have two reactions when seeing us together: "You two look nothing alike!" or "You look exactly alike!"
I lean toward looking nothing alike. Once she hit high school, Misty was the pretty one, and I remained, and do to this day, the smart one. I'm OK with that. And it's comforting to know she'll always be older than I am, even if it is only by 15 months.
Yesterday I got an e-mail about Presidium 2005, a weekend-long retreat I'll be sent on to canoe, do a ropes course, and probably do all kinds of "bonding" activities with the presidents of other student organizations. From what the e-mail said, one member of each organization has to attend. The copy I got was just sent to the Greek presidents, though. I hope that's the case. I don't know if I can handle all the Greek presidents AND the Raider Republicans.
Song of the Day: I was going to pick something by Exile, but I can't find much. I dig them, though. I opted for "Like A Stone" by Audioslave.
On a cobweb afternoon
In a room full of emptiness
by the freeway
I confess I was lost in the pages
of a book full of death
reading how we'll die alone
and if we're good we'll lay to rest
in the way we want to go
In your house I long to be
room by room
patiently
I'll wait for you there
like a stone
I'll wait for you there
alone
And on my deathbed
I will pray to god and the angels
Like a pagan
To anyone who will take me to heaven
To a place
I recall
I was there so long ago
The sky was bruised
The wine was bled
And there you led me on
In your house
I long to be
room by room
patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone
Alone
And on I read
Until the day was gone
And I sat in regret
Of all the things I've done
For all that I've blessed
And all the things I've wronged
In my dreams until my death
I will wonder on
In your house
I long to be
Room by room
Patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone
Alone
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Sometimes You're Not in The Mood for Vehicular Homicide
I went to put air in my tire today, but it was not meant to be: Shell was out of air. Yeah. I think it's weird, too.
While driving home from work, I got in the left lane at the same time as some guy in an SUV behind me also got in the lane. Traffic was creepy-crawly. I needed to pass a minivan.
Getting in the left lane put me behind a motorcycle, which always creeps me out, because while I've never hit anyone, I'm always extra-cautious around motorcycles. If you hit them, it's pretty much guaranteed that you'll kill them. Yikes!
Well, SUV man was really irritated that I wasn't willing to run over the motorcycle. First off, I drive a Saturn, so even if I wanted to flatten the unsuspecting cyclist, I probably couldn't have pulled it off. Second, we were still moving much faster than the minivan lane. And I, for one, don't fancy putting someone in danger of Death by Saturn. What an embarrassing epitaph:
"Here lies Snake. Died tragically while driving too slow in the fast lane. He loved his Harley."
Today, my editorship is over for the summer. Manderson will be taking over, and in our usual fashion, we were being weird. I did some kind of weird arm thing, which he took to be bad karate, and I insisted it was me preparing to go all Jean Gray on him. Here is what happened:
MattAnderson: "You do NOT have mutant powers."
Me: "How do you know? When have you ever seen me not be a mutant?"
Manda made a blog plea for her friends to friend me on LiveJournal. I got annoyed always commenting as "Anonymous." Then I spent no less than four hours working out a color scheme for the damn thing. If it weren't for Manda, I'd be friendless...ish.
Manda also included an interesting comment about me that I have to include. It's a good way to end this post:
"Wendy is like watching an explosion at a cotton candy factory, at which small children with balloons and baby sheep were having a field trip."
While driving home from work, I got in the left lane at the same time as some guy in an SUV behind me also got in the lane. Traffic was creepy-crawly. I needed to pass a minivan.
Getting in the left lane put me behind a motorcycle, which always creeps me out, because while I've never hit anyone, I'm always extra-cautious around motorcycles. If you hit them, it's pretty much guaranteed that you'll kill them. Yikes!
Well, SUV man was really irritated that I wasn't willing to run over the motorcycle. First off, I drive a Saturn, so even if I wanted to flatten the unsuspecting cyclist, I probably couldn't have pulled it off. Second, we were still moving much faster than the minivan lane. And I, for one, don't fancy putting someone in danger of Death by Saturn. What an embarrassing epitaph:
"Here lies Snake. Died tragically while driving too slow in the fast lane. He loved his Harley."
Today, my editorship is over for the summer. Manderson will be taking over, and in our usual fashion, we were being weird. I did some kind of weird arm thing, which he took to be bad karate, and I insisted it was me preparing to go all Jean Gray on him. Here is what happened:
MattAnderson: "You do NOT have mutant powers."
Me: "How do you know? When have you ever seen me not be a mutant?"
Manda made a blog plea for her friends to friend me on LiveJournal. I got annoyed always commenting as "Anonymous." Then I spent no less than four hours working out a color scheme for the damn thing. If it weren't for Manda, I'd be friendless...ish.
Manda also included an interesting comment about me that I have to include. It's a good way to end this post:
"Wendy is like watching an explosion at a cotton candy factory, at which small children with balloons and baby sheep were having a field trip."
Monday, July 25, 2005
Everybody's Free to Read This Blog
I've been pensive lately. I blame it on Tina being out of town. She'll be back in a few hours, but I'll probably be taking a candlelit bubble bath and reading a book. I finally defeated the migraine. Mostly, I've just been thinking.
Being 22 is strange. I'm more of an adult than when I was barely-legal 21, but I'm not quite old enough to pretend to have amassed any sort of life-changing wisdom or practical experience. However, taking a little license, here are a few of my observations.
1. Many people aren't worth your time. People, especially female ones, try to force themselves to see the good in everyone. That's not a bad practice, but if the bad far outweighs the good, don't force yourself to pretend to like someone you can't stand. Be civil, be courteous, but don't bend over backward telling yourself how great of a person they probably are when they aren't being an asshole. Some people are assholes. Locate them, and avoid them at all costs.
2. Sometimes things get really fucked up. Politically, personally, grammatically (please tell me someone got that), some things just get fucked up. Sometimes it isn't even anyone's fault. If it's not something you can change, just accept it and go about your daily life. Don't sweat the small stuff, and don't sweat the unavoidable big stuff, either.
3. Never compromise yourself. If you don't know who you are and what you stand for yet, from what I understand, that's what your 20s are for.
4. Cars are unreliable. Surround yourself with reliable friends so you'll always have a ride. I'm lucky to have a large group of people who have driven me to Hendersonville at night, to Franklin at 4:30 a.m., and have let me borrow transportation when my proved sub-par.
5. You really do look better in hindsight. I got picture happy today and updated my MySpace photos, and even of pictures from two years ago, I think, "You know, I didn't look half bad." Hindsight is key here. Generally, if people have the attitude of knowing how attractive they are (think about those girls you couldn't stand in middle school or high school), they usually have a hideous personality to match it. Either that, or they grow up to be really unattractive.
That's all I've got for now, other than the conclusion. At the end of the day, I think I'm all right. I don't compromise who I am, I try not to dwell on things I can't change, and I'm finding my own company more enjoyable each day. I may not be finished yet, but I think I'm off to a good start. I'm not even sure what prompted me to be so sappy just now (no, it's not PMS). I guess because I know self-confidence and self-satisfaction come in waves, and it's nice to document the good times, which people usually forget to do.
There are few things in life more beautiful than listening to "Adagio for Strings" and being completely satisfied with yourself.
Being 22 is strange. I'm more of an adult than when I was barely-legal 21, but I'm not quite old enough to pretend to have amassed any sort of life-changing wisdom or practical experience. However, taking a little license, here are a few of my observations.
1. Many people aren't worth your time. People, especially female ones, try to force themselves to see the good in everyone. That's not a bad practice, but if the bad far outweighs the good, don't force yourself to pretend to like someone you can't stand. Be civil, be courteous, but don't bend over backward telling yourself how great of a person they probably are when they aren't being an asshole. Some people are assholes. Locate them, and avoid them at all costs.
2. Sometimes things get really fucked up. Politically, personally, grammatically (please tell me someone got that), some things just get fucked up. Sometimes it isn't even anyone's fault. If it's not something you can change, just accept it and go about your daily life. Don't sweat the small stuff, and don't sweat the unavoidable big stuff, either.
3. Never compromise yourself. If you don't know who you are and what you stand for yet, from what I understand, that's what your 20s are for.
4. Cars are unreliable. Surround yourself with reliable friends so you'll always have a ride. I'm lucky to have a large group of people who have driven me to Hendersonville at night, to Franklin at 4:30 a.m., and have let me borrow transportation when my proved sub-par.
5. You really do look better in hindsight. I got picture happy today and updated my MySpace photos, and even of pictures from two years ago, I think, "You know, I didn't look half bad." Hindsight is key here. Generally, if people have the attitude of knowing how attractive they are (think about those girls you couldn't stand in middle school or high school), they usually have a hideous personality to match it. Either that, or they grow up to be really unattractive.
That's all I've got for now, other than the conclusion. At the end of the day, I think I'm all right. I don't compromise who I am, I try not to dwell on things I can't change, and I'm finding my own company more enjoyable each day. I may not be finished yet, but I think I'm off to a good start. I'm not even sure what prompted me to be so sappy just now (no, it's not PMS). I guess because I know self-confidence and self-satisfaction come in waves, and it's nice to document the good times, which people usually forget to do.
There are few things in life more beautiful than listening to "Adagio for Strings" and being completely satisfied with yourself.
VISA717 Exposed OR I Left My Heart in Kevin Spacey
I woke up with a migraine. I'm fighting it now...it likes to take its time going away.
I think my tire has a valve-stem leak. That's all I know about it - I sure as hell can't fix it.
Today is Brad Renfro's birthday. You know, the kid from The Client. How sad to peak at 11. He's 23 now. The pic is from his glory days.
And now, I'm opening myself up to embarrassment. Because I get asked this quite often, it's time to divulge why I use "VISA717." It all started with The Client. It was the first John Grisham book I read, and I also watched the movie. Well, being and young thing I was, I developed a ridiculous crush on Brad Renfro. Give me a break, I was a pre-teen. Well, in the movie, he steals this guy's VISA and orders "20 of your largest supremes" and then - wait for it - he kisses the credit card. Sigh. I almost forgot what it's like to be a silly girl. And 7 and 17 are my favorite numbers.
Tomorrow is one of my favorite days: Kevin Spacey's birthday. Yes, I'm weird, but I like to spend July 26 watching Kevin Spacey movie. What can I say - the man has a knack for doing good movies, and he's one damn fine actor.
Alas, it is time to continue trying to sleep off this migraine, which is Wendy talk for trying to coerce my brain not to explode into lots of little tiny pieces, because that's sure as hell what it feels like is going to happen.
Last night, I had a vivid dream about Lindsey's ferrets. I've never actually seen them, but in my dream, they were cute. Anyone want to offer a psychoanalysis?
Song of the Day: "Fade to Black" by Dire Straits. But I don't want my MTV.
I wonder where you are tonight
you're probably on the rampage somewhere
you have been known to take delight
in gettin' in somebody's hair
and you always had the knack
fade to black
I bet you already made a pass
I see a darkened room somewhere
you run your finger round the rim of his glass
run your fingers through his hair
they scratch across his back
fade to black
well maybe it's all for the best
but I wish I'd never been lassooed
maybe it's some kind of test
I wish I'd never been tattooed
or been to hell and back
fade to black
I think my tire has a valve-stem leak. That's all I know about it - I sure as hell can't fix it.
Today is Brad Renfro's birthday. You know, the kid from The Client. How sad to peak at 11. He's 23 now. The pic is from his glory days.
And now, I'm opening myself up to embarrassment. Because I get asked this quite often, it's time to divulge why I use "VISA717." It all started with The Client. It was the first John Grisham book I read, and I also watched the movie. Well, being and young thing I was, I developed a ridiculous crush on Brad Renfro. Give me a break, I was a pre-teen. Well, in the movie, he steals this guy's VISA and orders "20 of your largest supremes" and then - wait for it - he kisses the credit card. Sigh. I almost forgot what it's like to be a silly girl. And 7 and 17 are my favorite numbers.
Tomorrow is one of my favorite days: Kevin Spacey's birthday. Yes, I'm weird, but I like to spend July 26 watching Kevin Spacey movie. What can I say - the man has a knack for doing good movies, and he's one damn fine actor.
Alas, it is time to continue trying to sleep off this migraine, which is Wendy talk for trying to coerce my brain not to explode into lots of little tiny pieces, because that's sure as hell what it feels like is going to happen.
Last night, I had a vivid dream about Lindsey's ferrets. I've never actually seen them, but in my dream, they were cute. Anyone want to offer a psychoanalysis?
Song of the Day: "Fade to Black" by Dire Straits. But I don't want my MTV.
I wonder where you are tonight
you're probably on the rampage somewhere
you have been known to take delight
in gettin' in somebody's hair
and you always had the knack
fade to black
I bet you already made a pass
I see a darkened room somewhere
you run your finger round the rim of his glass
run your fingers through his hair
they scratch across his back
fade to black
well maybe it's all for the best
but I wish I'd never been lassooed
maybe it's some kind of test
I wish I'd never been tattooed
or been to hell and back
fade to black
Sunday, July 24, 2005
It Takes More Than Three to Salsa
Friday night I went out with Leslie and Laura. I met Laura at the wedding, but the fact that she's been dating Thomas since November somehow managed to slip through the cracks. What's it like hearing one of the high school valedictorians is hot? I'd rather not say. I've actually heard both valedictorians are hot, but that's neither here nor there.
We decided to go salsa dancing. However, the rest of Nashville had other plans. We bummed around Printers Alley a while. No, we didn't get shot. We didn't even get shot at. It was an ammunition-free night.
Leslie will be moving to Manhattan, Kansas, soon to live with her husband. I'd attempt to link the city, but I can't imagine any part of Kansas being linkable.
Saturday night I had a kick-ass close with Thomas (from Starbucks, not high school), Greg, and Kevin. It was awesome. I love guy shift. Guy shift rocks. We always have too much fun, and yet we manage to get everything done. Who knew?
I want to tattoo my lower back, but I can't decide what I want. I'm taking suggestions.
Tina's gone until Tuesday. It's very lonely here at the house. Destiny, as always, is pissed at me if I even go outside to get the mail. Luckily, it's Sunday, so I won't have to do that.
My evening plans: Watch some TV (Fox cartoons, Entourage, [adult swim], maybe some OnDemand), bum around online, eat, take a shower, probably watch some more TV, avoid econ homework, write NASCAR column, break down and do econ homework, pet the cat (the ACTUAL cat), feed the bird, maybe clean the kitchen (but let's not get our hopes up). Don't you wish you were so cool?
We decided to go salsa dancing. However, the rest of Nashville had other plans. We bummed around Printers Alley a while. No, we didn't get shot. We didn't even get shot at. It was an ammunition-free night.
Leslie will be moving to Manhattan, Kansas, soon to live with her husband. I'd attempt to link the city, but I can't imagine any part of Kansas being linkable.
Saturday night I had a kick-ass close with Thomas (from Starbucks, not high school), Greg, and Kevin. It was awesome. I love guy shift. Guy shift rocks. We always have too much fun, and yet we manage to get everything done. Who knew?
I want to tattoo my lower back, but I can't decide what I want. I'm taking suggestions.
Tina's gone until Tuesday. It's very lonely here at the house. Destiny, as always, is pissed at me if I even go outside to get the mail. Luckily, it's Sunday, so I won't have to do that.
My evening plans: Watch some TV (Fox cartoons, Entourage, [adult swim], maybe some OnDemand), bum around online, eat, take a shower, probably watch some more TV, avoid econ homework, write NASCAR column, break down and do econ homework, pet the cat (the ACTUAL cat), feed the bird, maybe clean the kitchen (but let's not get our hopes up). Don't you wish you were so cool?
Friday, July 22, 2005
"Can You Hear My Heart Beat in This Bond?"
There's a prize for the first person to get the title.
At the risk of sounding redundant: What the fuck is happening in/to London? Attention all terrorists: Leave this people alone.
The two bombings are a little too close for comfort...and I'm a big ocean away.
Naturally, Bush has made a statement about the ordeal, as reported by Guardian Unlimited: "[Terrorists] understand when they kill in cold blood it ends up on our TV screens and they're trying to shake our will. And they're trying to create vacuums in which their ideology can move."
Good point. This stuff does tend to make headlines. But I'm not so sure this is about us, and I'm terribly egocentric, so that's a powerful statement. True, this may be an attempt to hack away at some American allusion of safety, but it may have nothing to do with us. Not being a terrorist, I'm not really sure what motivates these people to blow shit up.
What's wrong with mass pamphlet-handing-out, ala groups on campus who keep trying to convince me not to eat meat? At least then you're not killing your target audience, though I guess that'd be a setback for these explosive-bearing lunatics.
According the the same article, we're now at a yellow terror alert. Don't ask me what that means - I have no clue.
However, I do know this: If someone is trying to blow me up, they could do it, if they tried hard enough. And there's really nothing I can do about it, so I'm not going to worry. I'm going to go about my normal daily business, regardless of what color they use to warn me how close I am to a violent, bloody death.
Switching to something not so morbid as imminent death, I took ERICA to the airport today. A few nights ago, I went to her apartment and noticed a really cool lamp - it's red with fringe, and the base has elephants on it. Naturally, I called it Republican. We decided that was too harsh a nickname, so we're calling it the Lamp of Sin.
I went to see Dave Matthews Band for the first time since I was 18 or 19. It was good. Dave concerts get me all hot and bothered. It could've been the beer and humidity, but I like to think it was Dave. There are few things better than "Warehouse" live. Sigh.
Song of the day, from Stand Up, "Hunger for the Great Light." No one does sexual lyrics quite like Dave.
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Here you go, you dirty girl
Good God, try to love try to oh
God's love is alive inside you
You know who needs you
I wanna be your hunger
I wanna see you open wide
And when I go down for you
I wanna blow your mind
You and I are such a pretty thing
Smile, smile, you know you thrill me
Cross your heart and hope to die
You know I'd love to
I wanna be your hunger
I wanna see you open wide
And when I go down for you
I wanna blow your mind
You and I oh oh
Shine, shine
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
You come like an answered prayer
Praise God, try to love try to oh
I have the little death delight
Oh I love you
I wanna be your hungry
I wanna see you open wide
And when I go down for you
I wanna blow your mind
At the risk of sounding redundant: What the fuck is happening in/to London? Attention all terrorists: Leave this people alone.
The two bombings are a little too close for comfort...and I'm a big ocean away.
Naturally, Bush has made a statement about the ordeal, as reported by Guardian Unlimited: "[Terrorists] understand when they kill in cold blood it ends up on our TV screens and they're trying to shake our will. And they're trying to create vacuums in which their ideology can move."
Good point. This stuff does tend to make headlines. But I'm not so sure this is about us, and I'm terribly egocentric, so that's a powerful statement. True, this may be an attempt to hack away at some American allusion of safety, but it may have nothing to do with us. Not being a terrorist, I'm not really sure what motivates these people to blow shit up.
What's wrong with mass pamphlet-handing-out, ala groups on campus who keep trying to convince me not to eat meat? At least then you're not killing your target audience, though I guess that'd be a setback for these explosive-bearing lunatics.
According the the same article, we're now at a yellow terror alert. Don't ask me what that means - I have no clue.
However, I do know this: If someone is trying to blow me up, they could do it, if they tried hard enough. And there's really nothing I can do about it, so I'm not going to worry. I'm going to go about my normal daily business, regardless of what color they use to warn me how close I am to a violent, bloody death.
Switching to something not so morbid as imminent death, I took ERICA to the airport today. A few nights ago, I went to her apartment and noticed a really cool lamp - it's red with fringe, and the base has elephants on it. Naturally, I called it Republican. We decided that was too harsh a nickname, so we're calling it the Lamp of Sin.
I went to see Dave Matthews Band for the first time since I was 18 or 19. It was good. Dave concerts get me all hot and bothered. It could've been the beer and humidity, but I like to think it was Dave. There are few things better than "Warehouse" live. Sigh.
Song of the day, from Stand Up, "Hunger for the Great Light." No one does sexual lyrics quite like Dave.
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Here you go, you dirty girl
Good God, try to love try to oh
God's love is alive inside you
You know who needs you
I wanna be your hunger
I wanna see you open wide
And when I go down for you
I wanna blow your mind
You and I are such a pretty thing
Smile, smile, you know you thrill me
Cross your heart and hope to die
You know I'd love to
I wanna be your hunger
I wanna see you open wide
And when I go down for you
I wanna blow your mind
You and I oh oh
Shine, shine
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
Oh great light of love
You come like an answered prayer
Praise God, try to love try to oh
I have the little death delight
Oh I love you
I wanna be your hungry
I wanna see you open wide
And when I go down for you
I wanna blow your mind
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Aftershock
I thought I'd take some time to let the shock wear off before attempting to take a crack at the Roberts thing.
I remember when I was 18 years old, a freshman at Emory University. I was bright-eyed, ready to dive into the world of academia. Then something happened that changed everyone, and we haven't been the same since.
That's the answer to the question I know I'll be asked when I'm 50: Where were you when they attacked the World Trade Center? Why, I was in freshman English, completely oblivious to it until I got back to my dorm room in time to watch the second tower fall live.
Anyway, that's not the point of this. I took an intro Women's Studies course with a brilliant woman, Valerie Ruffin. One of our readings was titled "What Has Happened Here?" How fitting for that to be stuck in my mind even today.
Naturally, the big issue everyone is squawking about is abortion. This is the most pointless thing to argue, because no one's mind will ever be changed. Here's how I first found out about abortion, when I was in fourth grade and Clinton was running against the first Bush (paraphrased, it was 12 years ago):
Me: People at school are saying Clinton wants to kill babies.
My mom: No, he's just in favor of a woman's right to terminate a pregnancy.
Me: Oh. Well, yeah, that makes sense.
Since then, I have been called all sorts of names, my favorite being a "baby killer," as if it is solely my responsibility that abortion exists. Hell, the medical term for a miscarriage: spontaneous abortion. It's not a new word, and it's not a new concept.
I know in the past this country has tried to impose morality and has failed miserably (ahem, prohibition). I suppose no one really can know when life begins. Does anyone remember being in the womb? Of course not.
I can only hope that the leaders of the country understand the importance of maintaining all of our liberties - even the ones they're not so fond of. If we claim to be the pioneers of freedom, it should start on our home front.
We should not let fear rule our lives. I am deeply shamed that we managed to pass the PATRIOT ACT, and not just because it's a terrible acronym. We let fear take over, and we all too willingly chipped away at just a few more of our liberties.
The Supreme Court's job is to interpret the Constitution. Let them do that, and only that. Legislating from the bench needs to be stomped down for good.
George W. Bush indeed has had to make many tough decisions as President, decisions I myself could not make. That's why I'm not the President. However, when a decision of this caliber is brought before him, it should not be taken lightly. I have to believe that he would not merely select a candidate just to overturn a ruling he and his right-wing cronies don't agree with.
I would like to believe that Roberts is all the great things Bush said he is. However, only time will tell whether or not the freedoms and liberties we fight for abroad are ones people consider worthy of fighting for at home.
I remember when I was 18 years old, a freshman at Emory University. I was bright-eyed, ready to dive into the world of academia. Then something happened that changed everyone, and we haven't been the same since.
That's the answer to the question I know I'll be asked when I'm 50: Where were you when they attacked the World Trade Center? Why, I was in freshman English, completely oblivious to it until I got back to my dorm room in time to watch the second tower fall live.
Anyway, that's not the point of this. I took an intro Women's Studies course with a brilliant woman, Valerie Ruffin. One of our readings was titled "What Has Happened Here?" How fitting for that to be stuck in my mind even today.
Naturally, the big issue everyone is squawking about is abortion. This is the most pointless thing to argue, because no one's mind will ever be changed. Here's how I first found out about abortion, when I was in fourth grade and Clinton was running against the first Bush (paraphrased, it was 12 years ago):
Me: People at school are saying Clinton wants to kill babies.
My mom: No, he's just in favor of a woman's right to terminate a pregnancy.
Me: Oh. Well, yeah, that makes sense.
Since then, I have been called all sorts of names, my favorite being a "baby killer," as if it is solely my responsibility that abortion exists. Hell, the medical term for a miscarriage: spontaneous abortion. It's not a new word, and it's not a new concept.
I know in the past this country has tried to impose morality and has failed miserably (ahem, prohibition). I suppose no one really can know when life begins. Does anyone remember being in the womb? Of course not.
I can only hope that the leaders of the country understand the importance of maintaining all of our liberties - even the ones they're not so fond of. If we claim to be the pioneers of freedom, it should start on our home front.
We should not let fear rule our lives. I am deeply shamed that we managed to pass the PATRIOT ACT, and not just because it's a terrible acronym. We let fear take over, and we all too willingly chipped away at just a few more of our liberties.
The Supreme Court's job is to interpret the Constitution. Let them do that, and only that. Legislating from the bench needs to be stomped down for good.
George W. Bush indeed has had to make many tough decisions as President, decisions I myself could not make. That's why I'm not the President. However, when a decision of this caliber is brought before him, it should not be taken lightly. I have to believe that he would not merely select a candidate just to overturn a ruling he and his right-wing cronies don't agree with.
I would like to believe that Roberts is all the great things Bush said he is. However, only time will tell whether or not the freedoms and liberties we fight for abroad are ones people consider worthy of fighting for at home.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
WTF?!
Wow. Wow. Wow.
Bush just announced Roberts as his nominee for the Supreme Court. I can't believe I'm thinking, "If only it were Gonzales."
Now we just sit back and wait for the Senate to lay down like a bunch of cheap whores.
Any Canadian/UK citizens out there want to marry me? I'm taking applications.
Bush just announced Roberts as his nominee for the Supreme Court. I can't believe I'm thinking, "If only it were Gonzales."
Now we just sit back and wait for the Senate to lay down like a bunch of cheap whores.
Any Canadian/UK citizens out there want to marry me? I'm taking applications.
"If Your Colors Were Like My Dreams"
It's been a while since I've blogged, I know. I've been pumping my creative juices doing a million things for Sidelines. And now I'm in the office trying to ward off a migraine. Yikes.
Saturday night, while waiting for Tina to finish Harry Potter, I went into my room and noticed Destiny (the cat) was on my bed and the chinchilla was under it. Yeah, somehow he got out. Not really sure how that happened. I spent about 45 minutes playing referee to a ridiculous cat-and-chinchilla game. Eventually, I put the cat up in Tina's room and let the chinchilla hide under the couch until Tina finished the book. Then we both played Catch the Chinchilla. It was amusing. Tina won - she got him by the tail.
Tomorrow night is Dave Matthews Band. I'm very excited - I haven't seen Dave in a few years, but I do have a shit-ton of his live albums. He's great live.
Speaking of live music, Tina and I have been experimenting with On Demand lately, which last night meant watching a Culture Club concert from the '80s. We listened to "Karma Chameleon." The concert was titled "Culture Club Greatest Hits." That's funny - I thought they just had the one.
I've decided to write a book, or, rather, the book has decided. I was just writing, and then I realized that my writing wanted to be a book. That makes sense to me. Hopefully at least one other person will understand this concept.
Next week is my last week as editor in chief, as I will be busy with Phi Chi president matters and lots of class in the fall. I only ran for the summer because I knew I couldn't be in charge of both at the same time. Good for me.
I have to go back to work Thursday, which means I have to find and wash all of my work clothing before then. That should be fun.
Tina and I finished X-Men Legends. My Cyclops kicked some serious ass. I'm so proud of him. Now we watch a lot of Dead Like Me. I dig that show.
Song of the day: "The Road Goes on Forever" by Robert Earl Keen.
Sherry was a waitress at the only joint in town
She had a reputation as a girl who'd been around
Down Main Street after midnight with a brand new pack of cigs
A fresh one hangin' from her lips and a beer between her legs
She'd ride down to the river and meet with all her friends
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
Sonny was a loner he was older than the rest
He was going into the Navy but he couldn't pass the test
So he hung around town he sold a little pot
The law caught wind of Sonny and one day he got caught
But he was back in business when they set him free again
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
Sonny's playin' 8-ball at the joint where Sherry works
When some drunken outta towner put his hand up Sherry's skirt
Sonny took his pool cue laid the drunk out on the floor
Stuffed a dollar in her tip jar and walked on out the door
She's runnin' right behind him reachin' for his hand
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
They jumped into his pickup Sonny jammed her down in gear
Sonny looked at Sherry and said lets get on outta here
The stars were high above them and the moon was in the east
The sun was settin' on them when they reached Miami Beach
They got a hotel by the water and a quart of Bombay gin
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
They soon ran out of money but Sonny knew a man
Who knew some Cuban refugees that delt in contraband
Sonny met the Cubans in a house just off the route
With a briefcase full of money and a pistol in his boot
The cards were on the table when the law came bustin' in
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
The Cubans grabbed the goodies and Sonny grabbed the Jack
He broke a bathroom window and climbed on out the back
Sherry drove the pickup through the alley on the side
Where a lawman tackled Sonny and was reading him his rights
She stepped into the alley with a single shot .410
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
They left the lawman lyin' and they made their getaway
They got back to the motel just before the break of day
Sonny gave her all the money and he blew her a little kiss
If they ask you how this happened say I forced you into this
She watched him as his taillights disappeared around the bend
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
Its Main Street after midnight just like it was before
21 months later at the local grocery store
Sherry buys a paper and a cold 6-pack of beer
The headlines read that Sonny is goin' to the chair
She pulls back onto Main Street in her new Mercedes Benz
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
Saturday night, while waiting for Tina to finish Harry Potter, I went into my room and noticed Destiny (the cat) was on my bed and the chinchilla was under it. Yeah, somehow he got out. Not really sure how that happened. I spent about 45 minutes playing referee to a ridiculous cat-and-chinchilla game. Eventually, I put the cat up in Tina's room and let the chinchilla hide under the couch until Tina finished the book. Then we both played Catch the Chinchilla. It was amusing. Tina won - she got him by the tail.
Tomorrow night is Dave Matthews Band. I'm very excited - I haven't seen Dave in a few years, but I do have a shit-ton of his live albums. He's great live.
Speaking of live music, Tina and I have been experimenting with On Demand lately, which last night meant watching a Culture Club concert from the '80s. We listened to "Karma Chameleon." The concert was titled "Culture Club Greatest Hits." That's funny - I thought they just had the one.
I've decided to write a book, or, rather, the book has decided. I was just writing, and then I realized that my writing wanted to be a book. That makes sense to me. Hopefully at least one other person will understand this concept.
Next week is my last week as editor in chief, as I will be busy with Phi Chi president matters and lots of class in the fall. I only ran for the summer because I knew I couldn't be in charge of both at the same time. Good for me.
I have to go back to work Thursday, which means I have to find and wash all of my work clothing before then. That should be fun.
Tina and I finished X-Men Legends. My Cyclops kicked some serious ass. I'm so proud of him. Now we watch a lot of Dead Like Me. I dig that show.
Song of the day: "The Road Goes on Forever" by Robert Earl Keen.
Sherry was a waitress at the only joint in town
She had a reputation as a girl who'd been around
Down Main Street after midnight with a brand new pack of cigs
A fresh one hangin' from her lips and a beer between her legs
She'd ride down to the river and meet with all her friends
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
Sonny was a loner he was older than the rest
He was going into the Navy but he couldn't pass the test
So he hung around town he sold a little pot
The law caught wind of Sonny and one day he got caught
But he was back in business when they set him free again
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
Sonny's playin' 8-ball at the joint where Sherry works
When some drunken outta towner put his hand up Sherry's skirt
Sonny took his pool cue laid the drunk out on the floor
Stuffed a dollar in her tip jar and walked on out the door
She's runnin' right behind him reachin' for his hand
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
They jumped into his pickup Sonny jammed her down in gear
Sonny looked at Sherry and said lets get on outta here
The stars were high above them and the moon was in the east
The sun was settin' on them when they reached Miami Beach
They got a hotel by the water and a quart of Bombay gin
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
They soon ran out of money but Sonny knew a man
Who knew some Cuban refugees that delt in contraband
Sonny met the Cubans in a house just off the route
With a briefcase full of money and a pistol in his boot
The cards were on the table when the law came bustin' in
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
The Cubans grabbed the goodies and Sonny grabbed the Jack
He broke a bathroom window and climbed on out the back
Sherry drove the pickup through the alley on the side
Where a lawman tackled Sonny and was reading him his rights
She stepped into the alley with a single shot .410
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
They left the lawman lyin' and they made their getaway
They got back to the motel just before the break of day
Sonny gave her all the money and he blew her a little kiss
If they ask you how this happened say I forced you into this
She watched him as his taillights disappeared around the bend
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
Its Main Street after midnight just like it was before
21 months later at the local grocery store
Sherry buys a paper and a cold 6-pack of beer
The headlines read that Sonny is goin' to the chair
She pulls back onto Main Street in her new Mercedes Benz
The road goes on forever and the party never ends
Saturday, July 16, 2005
J.K. Rowling Is A Genius
Book 6 is over. I laughed. I cried. I can't say anything else lest there be some of you who are not yet finished. The goal was to read it in less than 24 hours. I succeeded, and I even slept 6 hours. Total reading time: 14 hours. Total waiting time for next and final book: Indefinite.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Harry Potter And The Half-Assed Blog OR Just What I Needed
I take back my question mark, and I insert a happy face. Hovan ended up staying in town an extra night, so that was cool. I'm sure the question mark will come up again later.
I got paid today - woot! AND MTSU hooked me up with some financial aid refund action, so that's always good.
Harry Potter comes out in 5 hours. I'm so excited I can't stand it. Of course, I left my econ crap in the Sidelines office, and I have homework due. I hope I remember to do it before class Monday.
Well, after kick-ass night/early morning and a much anticipated book release, I'd say I'm in one damn fine mood.
Bitchin.
I got paid today - woot! AND MTSU hooked me up with some financial aid refund action, so that's always good.
Harry Potter comes out in 5 hours. I'm so excited I can't stand it. Of course, I left my econ crap in the Sidelines office, and I have homework due. I hope I remember to do it before class Monday.
Well, after kick-ass night/early morning and a much anticipated book release, I'd say I'm in one damn fine mood.
Bitchin.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
This Post Has No Title, Just Words And A Tune
I need to be a better Toaist. I'm working on it.
I'm chillin' at the house (Tina is at Brian's tonight) listening to Counting Crows and blogging. I spent some quality time with Brianna and Ox tonight after spending some quality time at the bar.
I'm exhausted in all aspects of the word. I've been off work for so long that I'm dreading going back. I like to be spoiled with free time. It's a good feeling.
I'm not sure how to spend my night. I think I'll write a while, then probably play some XBOX.
Hovan leaves tomorrow. Insert question mark here. That's it - that's all I've got.
I met the SGA president the other night whilst at the AGR house. It went over better than expected.
I really need to way my eyebrows. They look atrocious.
I decided to blog tonight because when the new Harry Potter comes out, I will cease to be until I'm done reading it.
I really miss all the Starbucks people I worked with. I am excited about seeing them again - every cloud has its lining.
I had an interview today for an internship. Hopefully, I'll get that. I'd like to start doing stuff in the industry, and it'd be nice to get some class credit out of it as well. Hell, we just may see me get a degree on schedule, but I'm sure MTSU will make use of the year and a half it has to fuck up my graduation.
I don't know why I had all those one-sentence graphs up there. Weird. I guess in my head I'm writing a news story. It's not a very good one.
Song of the day: "Goin' down to New York Town" by Counting Crows.
Well I feel just like a freight train baby,
running out of steam.
I wanna go on down to New York town,
but I'm stuck in between.
And I could stay on here at home alone
and have myself to thank,
But I just made a billion dollars
and I wanna put it in the bank,
So if you call...
we could go to town.
Well dear mom,
if you could see me now here underneath the lights
I gotta keep 'em on from dusk to dawn
and everything's alright.
I met a girl with autumn in her eyes
and summer in the way
She makes me feel
like I was only born today or yesterday,
And if she calls...
we could go to town.
But everybody here
hates everything I say,
and girl I just don't know
if I can last another day.
So I guess I'm going back,
back where I belong,
I hope you come along
before I get back on that train that takes me...
home from New York City
to the things I left behind
And 'though I ain't got no money girl
, I'll always have the time.
But I wish that you would hurry,
I hope you get here soon
'cause I just sold the sky to the sun
so I could buy for you the moon.
And if you call...
we could go to town. So if you call...
yeah, if you call...
girl, if you call...
we could go to town.
I'm chillin' at the house (Tina is at Brian's tonight) listening to Counting Crows and blogging. I spent some quality time with Brianna and Ox tonight after spending some quality time at the bar.
I'm exhausted in all aspects of the word. I've been off work for so long that I'm dreading going back. I like to be spoiled with free time. It's a good feeling.
I'm not sure how to spend my night. I think I'll write a while, then probably play some XBOX.
Hovan leaves tomorrow. Insert question mark here. That's it - that's all I've got.
I met the SGA president the other night whilst at the AGR house. It went over better than expected.
I really need to way my eyebrows. They look atrocious.
I decided to blog tonight because when the new Harry Potter comes out, I will cease to be until I'm done reading it.
I really miss all the Starbucks people I worked with. I am excited about seeing them again - every cloud has its lining.
I had an interview today for an internship. Hopefully, I'll get that. I'd like to start doing stuff in the industry, and it'd be nice to get some class credit out of it as well. Hell, we just may see me get a degree on schedule, but I'm sure MTSU will make use of the year and a half it has to fuck up my graduation.
I don't know why I had all those one-sentence graphs up there. Weird. I guess in my head I'm writing a news story. It's not a very good one.
Song of the day: "Goin' down to New York Town" by Counting Crows.
Well I feel just like a freight train baby,
running out of steam.
I wanna go on down to New York town,
but I'm stuck in between.
And I could stay on here at home alone
and have myself to thank,
But I just made a billion dollars
and I wanna put it in the bank,
So if you call...
we could go to town.
Well dear mom,
if you could see me now here underneath the lights
I gotta keep 'em on from dusk to dawn
and everything's alright.
I met a girl with autumn in her eyes
and summer in the way
She makes me feel
like I was only born today or yesterday,
And if she calls...
we could go to town.
But everybody here
hates everything I say,
and girl I just don't know
if I can last another day.
So I guess I'm going back,
back where I belong,
I hope you come along
before I get back on that train that takes me...
home from New York City
to the things I left behind
And 'though I ain't got no money girl
, I'll always have the time.
But I wish that you would hurry,
I hope you get here soon
'cause I just sold the sky to the sun
so I could buy for you the moon.
And if you call...
we could go to town. So if you call...
yeah, if you call...
girl, if you call...
we could go to town.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Please Come to Boston, You Insane Half-Elf
I Am A: Chaotic Neutral Half-Elf Fighter
Chaotic Neutral characters are unstable, and frequently insane. They believe in disorder first and foremost, and will thus strive for that disorder in everything they do. This means that they will do whatever seems 'fun' or 'novel' at any given time.
Half-Elves are a cross between a human and an elf. They are smaller, like their elven ancestors, but have a much shorter lifespan. They are sometimes looked down upon as half-breeds, but this is rare. They have both the curious drive of humans and the patience of elves.
Fighters are the warriors. They use weapons to accomplish their goals. This isn't to say that they aren't intelligent, but that they do, in fact, believe that violence is frequently the answer.
Find out What D&D Character Are You?, courtesy of NeppyMan!
I like the insane part. It sounds fun.
I was wrong about my econ test - I got an A. I'm not sure how, because I sure as hell didn't put forth enough effort to warrant getting a B, but, hey, I guess sometimes the gods do smile upon me. This is actually bad, because now I'll think I can slack off and skip class and still make good grades. Aye me.
My sister went to Boston on Sunday for some kind of school opening. I'm looking into Boston University for grad school, so I wish I could've gone. I don't imagine her new job would've paid for my ticket, too, though. Damn!
Tina and I have gotten lost in the world of X-Men Legends. I started out wanting to play Jean Grey, but then I got really into Cyclops. He's my man.
Today is Vicki's birthday. Woot!
ERICA is getting a shoutout so she'll know I still think she's the greatest! ERICA, you're the greatest! Why else would I use all caps to type your name?
The bugs are really bad this year. I get bitten far more than I'd like. I'm not OK with that.
I've been staying up really early lately - 7 a.m. yesterday and 7:30 the day before. Mostly I just write and read, although the other day I took a bubble bath at 5:30 a.m.
Hovan is in town for a few days, so hopefully we'll get to hang out tonight. Wouldn't it be great if everyone I knew and liked lived within a 60-mile radius of me? A girl can dream.
Song of the day, because it's been in my head forever, is "Please Come to Boston" by Dave (not Kenny) Loggins. This song is the original reason why I started using Napster back in the day.
Please come to Boston for the Springtime
I'm stayin' here with some friends and they've got lots of room
You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk
By a cafe where I hope to be workin' soon
Please come to Boston
She said "No-would you come home to me?"
And she said, "Hey ramblin' boy now wontcha settle down?"
"Boston ain't your kinda town"
"There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me"
"I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee"
Please come to Denver with the snowfall
We'll move up into the mountains so far that we can't be found
And throw "I love you" echoes down the canyon
And then lie awake at night till they come back around
Please come to Denver
She said "No-boy, would you come home to me?"
And she said, "hey ramblin' boy why dontcha settle down?"
"Denver ain't your kinda town"
"There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me"
"'cause I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee"
Now this drifter's world goes 'round and 'round
And I doubt that it's ever gonna stop
But of all the dreams I've lost or found
And all that I ain't got
I still need to lean to
Somebody I can sing to
Please come to LA to live forever
California life alone is just too hard to build
I live in a house that looks out over the ocean
And there's some stars that fell from the sky
Livin' up on the hill
Please come to LA
She just said "No-boy, won't you come home to me?"
And she said, "hey ramblin' boy why dontcha settle down?"
"LA can't be your kinda town"
"There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me"
"No, no, I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee"
"I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee"
Chaotic Neutral characters are unstable, and frequently insane. They believe in disorder first and foremost, and will thus strive for that disorder in everything they do. This means that they will do whatever seems 'fun' or 'novel' at any given time.
Half-Elves are a cross between a human and an elf. They are smaller, like their elven ancestors, but have a much shorter lifespan. They are sometimes looked down upon as half-breeds, but this is rare. They have both the curious drive of humans and the patience of elves.
Fighters are the warriors. They use weapons to accomplish their goals. This isn't to say that they aren't intelligent, but that they do, in fact, believe that violence is frequently the answer.
Find out What D&D Character Are You?, courtesy of NeppyMan!
I like the insane part. It sounds fun.
I was wrong about my econ test - I got an A. I'm not sure how, because I sure as hell didn't put forth enough effort to warrant getting a B, but, hey, I guess sometimes the gods do smile upon me. This is actually bad, because now I'll think I can slack off and skip class and still make good grades. Aye me.
My sister went to Boston on Sunday for some kind of school opening. I'm looking into Boston University for grad school, so I wish I could've gone. I don't imagine her new job would've paid for my ticket, too, though. Damn!
Tina and I have gotten lost in the world of X-Men Legends. I started out wanting to play Jean Grey, but then I got really into Cyclops. He's my man.
Today is Vicki's birthday. Woot!
ERICA is getting a shoutout so she'll know I still think she's the greatest! ERICA, you're the greatest! Why else would I use all caps to type your name?
The bugs are really bad this year. I get bitten far more than I'd like. I'm not OK with that.
I've been staying up really early lately - 7 a.m. yesterday and 7:30 the day before. Mostly I just write and read, although the other day I took a bubble bath at 5:30 a.m.
Hovan is in town for a few days, so hopefully we'll get to hang out tonight. Wouldn't it be great if everyone I knew and liked lived within a 60-mile radius of me? A girl can dream.
Song of the day, because it's been in my head forever, is "Please Come to Boston" by Dave (not Kenny) Loggins. This song is the original reason why I started using Napster back in the day.
Please come to Boston for the Springtime
I'm stayin' here with some friends and they've got lots of room
You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk
By a cafe where I hope to be workin' soon
Please come to Boston
She said "No-would you come home to me?"
And she said, "Hey ramblin' boy now wontcha settle down?"
"Boston ain't your kinda town"
"There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me"
"I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee"
Please come to Denver with the snowfall
We'll move up into the mountains so far that we can't be found
And throw "I love you" echoes down the canyon
And then lie awake at night till they come back around
Please come to Denver
She said "No-boy, would you come home to me?"
And she said, "hey ramblin' boy why dontcha settle down?"
"Denver ain't your kinda town"
"There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me"
"'cause I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee"
Now this drifter's world goes 'round and 'round
And I doubt that it's ever gonna stop
But of all the dreams I've lost or found
And all that I ain't got
I still need to lean to
Somebody I can sing to
Please come to LA to live forever
California life alone is just too hard to build
I live in a house that looks out over the ocean
And there's some stars that fell from the sky
Livin' up on the hill
Please come to LA
She just said "No-boy, won't you come home to me?"
And she said, "hey ramblin' boy why dontcha settle down?"
"LA can't be your kinda town"
"There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me"
"No, no, I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee"
"I'm the number one fan of the man from Tennessee"
Friday, July 08, 2005
2 (Malibu + Coke) + Pie + Ice Cream = Thursday
In just a few short hours my accounting career at MTSU will be over. Permanently. I'm so excited I can barely sit still. I think I ripped that off of The Shawshank Redemption.
I just took this quick IQ test online. It's not a real one, but here are my results:
Your Logical Intelligence is Exceptional
Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius
Your Mathematical Intelligence is Exceptional
Your General Knowledge is Exceptional
In short, I rule! Thanks for noticing.
I'm a little unsure about my econ test last night. The stuff I knew, I really knew. The stuff I didn't know, I really didn't know. Translation: I'm hoping I pulled a C or a B. I know myself too well to think I could ace it without studying and skipping the last class before the test to go drinking.
Tuesday Million Dollar Baby comes out on DVD. I freakin' love that movie. Everyone needs to drop whatever they had planned on Tuesday to see it. Trust me - it's worth it.
I haven't had a song on here in a while. I think I'll just list some of my favorite movies. These are my top picks, so be sure to pay attention and watch them - I'm not doing this for my health.
The Shawshank Redemption - Quite possibly the finest film ever made. It's actually based on the Stephen King novella Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption in a book called Different Seasons - it's in the "Hope Springs Eternal" section. For those unaware, Rita Hayworth was a famous movie star, her most notable role being Gilda. In fact, she once said that men went to bed with Gilda and woke up with her. However, this has nothing to do with the movie. A quote from the movie:
"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies." - Andy
Garden State - This is the first movie I ever saw alone, and I saw it in Brooklyn, which made it that much cooler. People were laughing out loud, and yet there's a good bit of drama to it as well. Zach Braff of Scrubs fame wrote, directed, and starred in it, and somehow he got Natalie Portman and Peter Sarsgaard to join in. A quote from this movie, at the end of one of my favorite scenes. You won't actually get it unless you see the movie.
"I would love to see you tap-dance." - Andrew
OK, so I took a hiatus to take my final test, so my accounting career is officially over! I'm so excited I don't know what to do with myself. I went to O'Charley's for some pie and a couple of Malibu & Cokes. I'm never quite sure how to make that plural. I had two. So two times Malibu & Coke. Whatever.
More movie picks will come later, but I really ought to post this now.
I just took this quick IQ test online. It's not a real one, but here are my results:
Your Logical Intelligence is Exceptional
Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius
Your Mathematical Intelligence is Exceptional
Your General Knowledge is Exceptional
In short, I rule! Thanks for noticing.
I'm a little unsure about my econ test last night. The stuff I knew, I really knew. The stuff I didn't know, I really didn't know. Translation: I'm hoping I pulled a C or a B. I know myself too well to think I could ace it without studying and skipping the last class before the test to go drinking.
Tuesday Million Dollar Baby comes out on DVD. I freakin' love that movie. Everyone needs to drop whatever they had planned on Tuesday to see it. Trust me - it's worth it.
I haven't had a song on here in a while. I think I'll just list some of my favorite movies. These are my top picks, so be sure to pay attention and watch them - I'm not doing this for my health.
The Shawshank Redemption - Quite possibly the finest film ever made. It's actually based on the Stephen King novella Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption in a book called Different Seasons - it's in the "Hope Springs Eternal" section. For those unaware, Rita Hayworth was a famous movie star, her most notable role being Gilda. In fact, she once said that men went to bed with Gilda and woke up with her. However, this has nothing to do with the movie. A quote from the movie:
"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies." - Andy
Garden State - This is the first movie I ever saw alone, and I saw it in Brooklyn, which made it that much cooler. People were laughing out loud, and yet there's a good bit of drama to it as well. Zach Braff of Scrubs fame wrote, directed, and starred in it, and somehow he got Natalie Portman and Peter Sarsgaard to join in. A quote from this movie, at the end of one of my favorite scenes. You won't actually get it unless you see the movie.
"I would love to see you tap-dance." - Andrew
OK, so I took a hiatus to take my final test, so my accounting career is officially over! I'm so excited I don't know what to do with myself. I went to O'Charley's for some pie and a couple of Malibu & Cokes. I'm never quite sure how to make that plural. I had two. So two times Malibu & Coke. Whatever.
More movie picks will come later, but I really ought to post this now.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Pimp My Mac
Today I came into the office to find the coolest thing: Matthew has made my computer awesome, giving me a dashboard and other such things that aren't necessary but help me to waste time. Thanks, Matthew - you're a pal!
Cox blogged AGAIN! Wow! This is such a treat. After reading his blogged, I posted a comment, and then he called. It had only been about 30 seconds since I'd posted the comment, so I thought it was some stalking-like thing. Turns out it was just a weird coincidence.
On his blog, Cox made some revelations as to the kind of women who are wrong for him. This is actually quite normal, because it's easier to tell who's wrong for you. As a tribute to Cox, I will now do the same.
1. PEOPLE WITH GROSS MISCONCEPTIONS ON THE SPELLINGS OF BASIC WORDS. OK, I don't expect spelling bee champions here (although in my day I was quite the speller). However, some words should be mastered before one enters high school. If this can't be done, sorry. English obviously isn't the language for you. Try Chinese. And don't date me. One such word that annoys the hell out of me I've given up on. Too many people I know can't spell definitely. There is no "a." There is no reason to think there might be one. EVERYONE I KNOW seems to spell this word wrong. Some of them are chicks, so I don't really care. And the guys who misspell it are usually really attractive, so I let it slide. Here's a rule of thumb: Your spelling ability should be inversely proportional to your attractiveness. If you are really hot, I can let some spelling slide. If you're not so hot, well, start studying the dictionary.
2. PEOPLE I'M NOT ATTRACTED TO. This can mean a variety of things, but I have to be somewhat attracted to the person in question. It can be looks, personality, conversation, brainpower, whatever, but I need something to go on. Throw me a freakin' bone here. If there's nothing, I'm not going to feel all bad and try to convince myself that I can make it work if I just try hard enough. I can't. I'm not that good.
3. PEOPLE WITH NO AMBITION. I just realized I'm using "people" when I mean "men" - whoops. Anyway, I'm highly ambitious, and although I don't need someone as ambitious as I am, I do need to be with someone who wants to do something other than sit around and watch me make money. I'm going to be sitting around watching me make money. He needs to do something equally productive.
4. BOYS. I don't date boys; I prefer men. If you don't know the difference, you've only dated one type.
5. PEOPLE WITH NO BREEDING POTENTIAL. Yes, I guess it's in my nature to want to procreate (or at least try really hard), so when I start looking for a mate, there need to be some good genes in there, ones that will go well with mine. This doesn't mean a perfect family - I don't think such a thing exists. But if there are young children in the family who aren't talking by two, there's a problem.
That's all for now. I need to stop before I lose track of time and miss my econ test.
Cox blogged AGAIN! Wow! This is such a treat. After reading his blogged, I posted a comment, and then he called. It had only been about 30 seconds since I'd posted the comment, so I thought it was some stalking-like thing. Turns out it was just a weird coincidence.
On his blog, Cox made some revelations as to the kind of women who are wrong for him. This is actually quite normal, because it's easier to tell who's wrong for you. As a tribute to Cox, I will now do the same.
1. PEOPLE WITH GROSS MISCONCEPTIONS ON THE SPELLINGS OF BASIC WORDS. OK, I don't expect spelling bee champions here (although in my day I was quite the speller). However, some words should be mastered before one enters high school. If this can't be done, sorry. English obviously isn't the language for you. Try Chinese. And don't date me. One such word that annoys the hell out of me I've given up on. Too many people I know can't spell definitely. There is no "a." There is no reason to think there might be one. EVERYONE I KNOW seems to spell this word wrong. Some of them are chicks, so I don't really care. And the guys who misspell it are usually really attractive, so I let it slide. Here's a rule of thumb: Your spelling ability should be inversely proportional to your attractiveness. If you are really hot, I can let some spelling slide. If you're not so hot, well, start studying the dictionary.
2. PEOPLE I'M NOT ATTRACTED TO. This can mean a variety of things, but I have to be somewhat attracted to the person in question. It can be looks, personality, conversation, brainpower, whatever, but I need something to go on. Throw me a freakin' bone here. If there's nothing, I'm not going to feel all bad and try to convince myself that I can make it work if I just try hard enough. I can't. I'm not that good.
3. PEOPLE WITH NO AMBITION. I just realized I'm using "people" when I mean "men" - whoops. Anyway, I'm highly ambitious, and although I don't need someone as ambitious as I am, I do need to be with someone who wants to do something other than sit around and watch me make money. I'm going to be sitting around watching me make money. He needs to do something equally productive.
4. BOYS. I don't date boys; I prefer men. If you don't know the difference, you've only dated one type.
5. PEOPLE WITH NO BREEDING POTENTIAL. Yes, I guess it's in my nature to want to procreate (or at least try really hard), so when I start looking for a mate, there need to be some good genes in there, ones that will go well with mine. This doesn't mean a perfect family - I don't think such a thing exists. But if there are young children in the family who aren't talking by two, there's a problem.
That's all for now. I need to stop before I lose track of time and miss my econ test.
Monday, July 04, 2005
They Don't Make 'em Like That Anymore
I had one damn fine weekend. In fact, it's too good to blog about, because I need to keep some stuff for myself. However, I will give you readers one word to go on: moonshine.
Yep, I went to East Tennessee. Yes, I used to live in East Tennessee, but not the part I was in. I'm originally from Maryville, and I was in Almost Virginia. I thought I'd capitalize that for effect.
On the way back, I got the most bogus speeding ticket ever. I'm driving home, and it's around 3 a.m. eastern time. Well, sometimes it gets foggy, on account of the lakes and rivers and high altitude, so I had just gotten through some pretty dense fog, and I see an exit sign for UT. The italics are my thoughts. Keep in mind I'm sure not dumb enough to say this shit.
Aha, methinks, I'm in Knoxville. The speed limit must be 55, because that's what it is in all cities.
So I drive around 55-60, because it's Knoxville, so five over isn't going to hurt anyone tempered with mountain spring water and moonshine. And I can rag on East Tennesseans all I want because I used to live there. In fact, I was born in Knoxville. How do you like them apples? Soaked in alochol? Me too!
So I come around this corner, and I notice a cop car. Now, no one is as aware of his or her speed as I am when I know there's a cop just itching to pull someone over. So, even though I was only going 60ish, I hit the brake before I got to him (so he couldn't see me braking - that's an admission of guilt) and slowed down to 55ish.
He pulled out a little ahead of me, and I continued at this 55 rate. He drove next to me (in my blindspot no less) and then pulled behind me and turned on his lights.
Fuck. I wish this bastard would remove the stick from his ass and let me go. I need to get to Murfreesboro before I'm too tired to stay awake. Shit. Where do I pull over? Why doesn't Knoxville believe in shoulders anymore?.
He came over his SuperCop 5000 Loudspeaker (OK, maybe I made that up, but I bet it has a stupid name) and told me to keep driving until I could pull over.
Well, at this point, I'm really irritated, because I know he's really intent on giving me something I don't want if he's coming over his speaker system for God and the rest of I-40 to hear, and I've got my hazard lights on because I'll be damned if I'm getting a "Failure to Yield" added to this bitch, and I finally get to a small section of shoulder-like substance.
Mr. Copman gets out of his car and comes to my window saying I was going 60, and in my head I'm thinking he must've clocked me as soon as I came around the curve, but I'm still not seeing what the big drama is with 60 in a 55. I mean, hell, if I were trying to escape from prison, I could see the need to bust out the SuperCop 5000, but for 5 over? Is he shitting me?
Then he says it.
"The speed limit's 45."
What? 45? Yeah, on Gallatin Road near my parents' house the speed limit is 45, but this is I-40. And it's Knoxville for fuck's sake. Why in the bleeding hell would the speed limit be anything other than 55 like it is in every other city in the country?
I replied with something along the lines of being from out of town, which I'm sure he knew by my license plate from a county he thought was in area code 423. You know, it's kind of like 615, except none of the numbers are the same.
"We're on mandatory enforcement, so I have to cite you. I'm going to have to write you a citation."
Oh, so that's what it means to cite someone: write a citation. Do you think you can use parenthetical footnoting? All that ibid, sic crap just confuses me. And if your Works Cited page is wrong, that's coming off your grade, buddy.
"This is one of the governor's concerns. He's trying to reduce fatalities of construction workers, even when there's no construction."
Excuse me, did I wander into a press conference? Don't give me PR spin. I don't give a shit about the governor or how you HAVE to give me a ticket. Just write the damn thing and let me get back to driving. It's late, chief, and I have miles to go before I sleep. That's Robert Frost, by the way. Oh, and how in the hell is this a construction zone? No shoulder is stupid, but generally there's some kind of construction warning signs posted every two feet. And, for future reference, I can assure you that writing me this ticket has not saved any lives of construction workers who might just wander around the road on their days off.
So I gave him my license, and he asked what year my car was.
But don't you want to see my registration and proof of insurance? What if I'm driving an uninsured stolen car? Actually, I'd come off pretty good in that scenario, although someone would be really fucked.
"The governor wants to reduce highway fatalities over the holiday weekend, so BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH."
OK, dude, I get it. The governor wants to make money and have you tell the citizens how they can help. By the way, if the governor REALLY wanted to reduce fatalities, why is he depriving a couple hundred thousand people of health care? I mean, suppose some construction worker gets plowed by a semi. Who's paying for his health care? OK, I guess the semi driver would, but you can see my point here.
So he takes my license and spends forever writing my ticket, and I'm getting really annoyed now, because I just want to get home. He finally brings it back and hands me my copy and leaves. He mentioned some August court date, but it's Knoxville. Maybe I'll go if there's a UT game that weekend. I doubt there will be.
So Cop-o-rama drives away and I'm glad I didn't smart off because I do have a tail light out, and he could've added that if he really wanted to. Before I merge back onto 40 (tons of fun and really safe, by the way), I read the ticket.
Pacing.
Pacing?!
PACING?!
How in the hell do you pace someone if you're at a complete stop yourself? Now, he did pull out in FRONT of me, but that's hardly an effective method of pacing, not to mention he wasn't on the road long enough to get up to 60 to pace me at it. Now, yes, I was going around 55, which, according to this guy, was 10 over, so I was speeding even though I didn't realize it. But 60 is 15 over, and it's a different bracket of payment. He eyeballed me into a higher payment bracket. This is why most people hate most cops.
He fucked me, and he didn't even ask if it was good for me, too. I especially liked the part when he said he didn't want to do it but he had to. I guess it took him so long to write the ticket because he was jerking off to it.
I do have one other speeding ticket that I got three years ago, but that guy was nice. He was quick about it, too. This also took place at 3 a.m.
I merged back onto 40 and started obsessively looking for speed limit signs, which didn't take long. About half a mile up the road I saw one. Are you ready for this shit? Because this is the punchline - the true punchline - I can't make this shit up.
55
By the way, that font size is 55. Neat huh?
What a prick.
Yep, I went to East Tennessee. Yes, I used to live in East Tennessee, but not the part I was in. I'm originally from Maryville, and I was in Almost Virginia. I thought I'd capitalize that for effect.
On the way back, I got the most bogus speeding ticket ever. I'm driving home, and it's around 3 a.m. eastern time. Well, sometimes it gets foggy, on account of the lakes and rivers and high altitude, so I had just gotten through some pretty dense fog, and I see an exit sign for UT. The italics are my thoughts. Keep in mind I'm sure not dumb enough to say this shit.
Aha, methinks, I'm in Knoxville. The speed limit must be 55, because that's what it is in all cities.
So I drive around 55-60, because it's Knoxville, so five over isn't going to hurt anyone tempered with mountain spring water and moonshine. And I can rag on East Tennesseans all I want because I used to live there. In fact, I was born in Knoxville. How do you like them apples? Soaked in alochol? Me too!
So I come around this corner, and I notice a cop car. Now, no one is as aware of his or her speed as I am when I know there's a cop just itching to pull someone over. So, even though I was only going 60ish, I hit the brake before I got to him (so he couldn't see me braking - that's an admission of guilt) and slowed down to 55ish.
He pulled out a little ahead of me, and I continued at this 55 rate. He drove next to me (in my blindspot no less) and then pulled behind me and turned on his lights.
Fuck. I wish this bastard would remove the stick from his ass and let me go. I need to get to Murfreesboro before I'm too tired to stay awake. Shit. Where do I pull over? Why doesn't Knoxville believe in shoulders anymore?.
He came over his SuperCop 5000 Loudspeaker (OK, maybe I made that up, but I bet it has a stupid name) and told me to keep driving until I could pull over.
Well, at this point, I'm really irritated, because I know he's really intent on giving me something I don't want if he's coming over his speaker system for God and the rest of I-40 to hear, and I've got my hazard lights on because I'll be damned if I'm getting a "Failure to Yield" added to this bitch, and I finally get to a small section of shoulder-like substance.
Mr. Copman gets out of his car and comes to my window saying I was going 60, and in my head I'm thinking he must've clocked me as soon as I came around the curve, but I'm still not seeing what the big drama is with 60 in a 55. I mean, hell, if I were trying to escape from prison, I could see the need to bust out the SuperCop 5000, but for 5 over? Is he shitting me?
Then he says it.
"The speed limit's 45."
What? 45? Yeah, on Gallatin Road near my parents' house the speed limit is 45, but this is I-40. And it's Knoxville for fuck's sake. Why in the bleeding hell would the speed limit be anything other than 55 like it is in every other city in the country?
I replied with something along the lines of being from out of town, which I'm sure he knew by my license plate from a county he thought was in area code 423. You know, it's kind of like 615, except none of the numbers are the same.
"We're on mandatory enforcement, so I have to cite you. I'm going to have to write you a citation."
Oh, so that's what it means to cite someone: write a citation. Do you think you can use parenthetical footnoting? All that ibid, sic crap just confuses me. And if your Works Cited page is wrong, that's coming off your grade, buddy.
"This is one of the governor's concerns. He's trying to reduce fatalities of construction workers, even when there's no construction."
Excuse me, did I wander into a press conference? Don't give me PR spin. I don't give a shit about the governor or how you HAVE to give me a ticket. Just write the damn thing and let me get back to driving. It's late, chief, and I have miles to go before I sleep. That's Robert Frost, by the way. Oh, and how in the hell is this a construction zone? No shoulder is stupid, but generally there's some kind of construction warning signs posted every two feet. And, for future reference, I can assure you that writing me this ticket has not saved any lives of construction workers who might just wander around the road on their days off.
So I gave him my license, and he asked what year my car was.
But don't you want to see my registration and proof of insurance? What if I'm driving an uninsured stolen car? Actually, I'd come off pretty good in that scenario, although someone would be really fucked.
"The governor wants to reduce highway fatalities over the holiday weekend, so BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH."
OK, dude, I get it. The governor wants to make money and have you tell the citizens how they can help. By the way, if the governor REALLY wanted to reduce fatalities, why is he depriving a couple hundred thousand people of health care? I mean, suppose some construction worker gets plowed by a semi. Who's paying for his health care? OK, I guess the semi driver would, but you can see my point here.
So he takes my license and spends forever writing my ticket, and I'm getting really annoyed now, because I just want to get home. He finally brings it back and hands me my copy and leaves. He mentioned some August court date, but it's Knoxville. Maybe I'll go if there's a UT game that weekend. I doubt there will be.
So Cop-o-rama drives away and I'm glad I didn't smart off because I do have a tail light out, and he could've added that if he really wanted to. Before I merge back onto 40 (tons of fun and really safe, by the way), I read the ticket.
Pacing.
Pacing?!
PACING?!
How in the hell do you pace someone if you're at a complete stop yourself? Now, he did pull out in FRONT of me, but that's hardly an effective method of pacing, not to mention he wasn't on the road long enough to get up to 60 to pace me at it. Now, yes, I was going around 55, which, according to this guy, was 10 over, so I was speeding even though I didn't realize it. But 60 is 15 over, and it's a different bracket of payment. He eyeballed me into a higher payment bracket. This is why most people hate most cops.
He fucked me, and he didn't even ask if it was good for me, too. I especially liked the part when he said he didn't want to do it but he had to. I guess it took him so long to write the ticket because he was jerking off to it.
I do have one other speeding ticket that I got three years ago, but that guy was nice. He was quick about it, too. This also took place at 3 a.m.
I merged back onto 40 and started obsessively looking for speed limit signs, which didn't take long. About half a mile up the road I saw one. Are you ready for this shit? Because this is the punchline - the true punchline - I can't make this shit up.
55
By the way, that font size is 55. Neat huh?
What a prick.
Friday, July 01, 2005
You Can't Spell "Stripper" without "Pie"
Well, I didn't get to see the strippers. Turns out, they had to hop a plane to some show-related thing no one could talk about. Apparently, this is when they find out if they win. So my Stampeding was stripper-free. Drat.
This Michael character felt the need to get my attention by pulling my hair. He did it more than once. I wanted to kill him. I haven't ruled it out. Then he's all trying to like touch me, which is so not cool, especially after I repeatedly told him not to, so I quickly let him know that it would result in me hitting him, and I said I'd feel bad if I decked a complete stranger. I really wouldn't have felt bad, though. I would've been OK with it.
While at the Pede, I ran into my homecoming buddy from two years ago. We chatted and all that jazz, and then afterward, we reverted back to the days of homecomings past by sitting around a bonfire. Fire. Even more amusing when you've been drinking.
Tonight, we had the first Phi Chi summer meeting. After spending a good portion of my day typing up originals for all of our forms and printing multiple copies, I headed up to O'Charley's after meeting, barely making it in before the bar closed. I did get two drinks, though, and Chris got Steve to bring me a graham-cracker pie shell full of caramel ice cream, whipped cream, and chocolate chips. It was incredible.
We then went to Waffle, because they were all upset we hadn't been in a while. We got there right after a water fight, and we caught a bit of the aftershock. Brian came and brought me a sweatshirt, because it's always freezing in the Waffle. We then hung out with some AGRs, as we usually do when we're there, and the Tina and I came home for some good quality XBOX slaughter.
And for those of you reading this time stamp, I'm not up early. I'm just up very late. Not that late, though. This is about par for the course for me.
Holy shit! Cox blogged! Thrice! You have to check it out.
I was funny today. Granted, it won't seem that funny on here probably, but I can assure you I got some laughs.
Tanya: How do you turn this fan on?
Me: Rub it.
Laurie, one of my littles, is talking to this guy RD. A few months ago, it was this guy TH. Yeah. I ragged on her for not choosing men with vowels in their names. Anyway, at O'Charley's one night, we came up with a huge list of words that you can't spell without "th." I can't wait until she dates some guy named "CK." I'm already working on my word list. Not to be outdone, as we were sitting at the bar tonight and she was talking about RD, I couldn't help myself:
"You can't spell 'hard' without 'rd!'"
You sure can't.
This Michael character felt the need to get my attention by pulling my hair. He did it more than once. I wanted to kill him. I haven't ruled it out. Then he's all trying to like touch me, which is so not cool, especially after I repeatedly told him not to, so I quickly let him know that it would result in me hitting him, and I said I'd feel bad if I decked a complete stranger. I really wouldn't have felt bad, though. I would've been OK with it.
While at the Pede, I ran into my homecoming buddy from two years ago. We chatted and all that jazz, and then afterward, we reverted back to the days of homecomings past by sitting around a bonfire. Fire. Even more amusing when you've been drinking.
Tonight, we had the first Phi Chi summer meeting. After spending a good portion of my day typing up originals for all of our forms and printing multiple copies, I headed up to O'Charley's after meeting, barely making it in before the bar closed. I did get two drinks, though, and Chris got Steve to bring me a graham-cracker pie shell full of caramel ice cream, whipped cream, and chocolate chips. It was incredible.
We then went to Waffle, because they were all upset we hadn't been in a while. We got there right after a water fight, and we caught a bit of the aftershock. Brian came and brought me a sweatshirt, because it's always freezing in the Waffle. We then hung out with some AGRs, as we usually do when we're there, and the Tina and I came home for some good quality XBOX slaughter.
And for those of you reading this time stamp, I'm not up early. I'm just up very late. Not that late, though. This is about par for the course for me.
Holy shit! Cox blogged! Thrice! You have to check it out.
I was funny today. Granted, it won't seem that funny on here probably, but I can assure you I got some laughs.
Tanya: How do you turn this fan on?
Me: Rub it.
Laurie, one of my littles, is talking to this guy RD. A few months ago, it was this guy TH. Yeah. I ragged on her for not choosing men with vowels in their names. Anyway, at O'Charley's one night, we came up with a huge list of words that you can't spell without "th." I can't wait until she dates some guy named "CK." I'm already working on my word list. Not to be outdone, as we were sitting at the bar tonight and she was talking about RD, I couldn't help myself:
"You can't spell 'hard' without 'rd!'"
You sure can't.
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