So last night's show went like this: Love Me Destroyer was first, I think it was the third time I've seen them, and they were about the same as always. They're good live, not great, they play through most of their album, showing some good but not loud enough guitar work. Second was the Grabass Charlestons, who sounded off to me. I don't know what they're supposed to sound like, but the guitar was grating on my ears and the singer's (who is the drummer) mic wasn't nearly loud enough despite repeated attempts to turn it off. The monitor people were bad last night.

Lucero comes on third, and watching them live (it was my second time) is a euphoric experience. They're so laid back and confident up there, it looks like you're just watching a group of friends practicing. But it sounds like a band who's practiced a hell of a lot. Complicated bass lines and guitar solos aplenty, complimented by a songer whose gravelly country voice (not fake, they're from Tennessee). The sound they put out makes you forget all your cares, they really are that good. I thought they were an odd fit on the punk bill, since they're definitely not punk, especially live, but it turns out that quite a bit of the audience was there just to see them, and all the punk kids in the audience were at least willing to sit through them, and most were bobbing their heads looking like they were enjoying it. I don't know all what they played, but they did some of my favorites like Chain Link Fence and Here At the Starlite. Don't miss Lucero if they come through, it's music written by musicians who love playing music, there's nothing trendy or polished about it.

Against Me! is awesome, and it helps that 80% of the crowd, myself included, has memorized just about every word to every song. All they really have to do is start the song and the crowd could finish it off. They put on an amazing show, they all go crazy with their instruments, they drop their instruments and all come up to the front of the stage and clap during the singalong parts ("And we rock, because it's us against them..."), and they talk. A lot. But it's pretty funny banter. The kids in the audience who just want to hear songs and run into each other don't appreciate it, but I like it, even if sometimes it does go on for too long. They're awesome, another can't miss band. They opened with Pints of Guinness, launched straight into Cliche Guevara, and then proceeded to play the following songs during the night: Those Anarcho Punks, Reinventing Axl Rose (awesome), Baby I'm an Anarchist, Mutiny on the Electronic Bay, Sink Florida Sink (awesome), Slurring the Rhythms, Rice and Bread, You Look Like I Need a Drink, and Turn Those Clapping Hands... And they closed once again with the incredible We Laugh At Danger. They also played two new songs, one of which I'd heard because of a live radio performance. The other sounded really damn good, and I hope that means they'll be coming out with a new album soon. But most likely not. Whatever, Lucero and Against Me were easily worth the 7 bucks. Don't miss them.

So tonight in the student center the hockey team was auctioning themselves off. Like one of those things where the guy gets up on stage and the girls scream and start bidding and then they get him for a slave. Or something, I don't really know what the point is. But my point is this. Black people object to us white folk using the word "nigger." And I guess that's alright, it's kind of stupid (unless like a white supremacist is saying it, and in that case I'm against it too), but it's understandable. Some black people want reparations from slavery however long ago, which no one alive had anything to do with, and that's just absurd. But I've never heard any black people objecting to this practice of "auctioning" humans. Now, I'm not big on history, but I do remember seeing slaves being auctioned off back when slavery was around, they'd get up on stage and white landowners would bid on them so they can be slaves. Much like today's hockey player auction. So shouldn't black people get angry about such a practice? I've never heard anyone go "Well that's one of the most degrading things to my race that I've ever seen." What the hell's up with that? I'm not even black and that almost offends me. But really, nothing offends me anymore. The good thing about this auction was the parade of hot girls through the student center. Not like any of them gave me a second, or even a first look, but still, it made work a little better.

Here's a joke you've all probably heard, but I hadn't until recently: Why do girls wear perfume and makeup? Because they're ugly and they smell bad. The truth is funny.

I should start writing again. But it's so much easier to play videogames. But now that I'm sick of all my videogames, and there's nothing good on TV, maybe I'll start writing again. The site is feeling lonely. Much like me (sob sob sob). I hesitate to talk about my personal problems on here, but... I lost an arm today. I said I wouldn't bitch about my life when I started this thing, but you know, it's really hard to function without an arm. Gangrene is no laughing matter.

But seriously... Later.

Yesterday was an alright day, except for the whole waking up early thing. I think that messed my sleep schedule up. Scotty was up here for the weekend, which was fun as always. I got two new used CDs at the Finest, which has really gone downhill. I used to go in there and always pick up like 5 CDs, and then have to put some back. But now I go in there and have to settle for things. I thought about getting Figure 8 by Elliott Smith, but I just couldn't bring myself to pay 15.99 for one CD. Instead I paid like 20 bucks for two, I got Lifetime's "Jersey's Best Dancers" and Down By Law's "All Scratched Up."

Then we sat around for a while, and ate at Good Times. I never get to have their frozen custard cause every time I go in there it's cherry flavored. And don't get me wrong, I love cherries, but after eating a hamburger I feel like something chocolate, not something fruity. I'm pretty sure I've never had hamburgers and strawberries or anything like that. They have the good flavors of custard during the week, when I don't want to go to Good Times. I think I always go on "Manager's Special" custard days, and every time I've been, it's been cherry flavored. That manager must love cherry flavored custard. It was special Valentine's Day cherry custard, which makes me want it even less, because A)I don't like Valentine's Day, and B)It was last week. That's old custard. Hell if those bastards are going to pawn off their old custard on me.

Then we saw Eurotrip, which I just hoped would be entertaining. But it turned out to be really funny, actually, I was laughing practically the whole time, it seems like. I never was really rolling in the aisles, I was never gasping for breath, but I was laughing constantly, so it was good. About half of the movie featured young women naked, too, so hey, can't complain about that. And another quarter of it featured men naked, which isn't my thing so much, but I guess that's there for all the ladies who just love seeing middle aged fat men naked. I assume there's a market for that, I don't know. All I know is, it was about the perfect movie for teenage guys and girls who are lesbians or bisexual. And as we all know, all girls are lesbians or bisexual. All of them. I don't make hasty generalizations, I speak the truth. So you should go see that.

That guy came by Subway today, from last week, but I ran away because I don't want to be charged with murder a week before Against Me! comes to town. Oh, it's going to be so good, I may just cry when it's over.

Music: Down By Law's on right now. I listened to Lagwagon's "Feelings," No Use for a Name's "Rock Hard Bottom," Teen Idols' "Nothing to Prove," and Saves the Day's "In Reverie" at work today. Talitha's cool, she doesn't moan about my music. Alright, I'm done. Peace.

Look at that time at the bottom of this. Go ahead. Now look at the day. Yeah. 9:08. Saturday. I've been up for more than an hour and a half. See, Subway had this meeting today at 8 in the morning so we could watch poorly made instructional videos and learn how to put three olives on a sandwich. Three olives. This is supposed to save time and money. If I got three olives on a sandwich, I'd... politely ask for more. Which is what I expect every single customer who wants olives to do (except most likely not politely). Hooray. If I ever have to wake up at 7:30 on a Saturday again, kill me. Now I don't know if I can go back to sleep. And I've got a paper to write today, since I'm working tomorrow and Monday. Hooray. So if this is laden full of weird sentences and typos and the like, then it's because I haven't been up this early in a long long time.
Oh yeah, music wise, I've got the Lawrence Arms splits in the car, and the top six CDs on my little pile here are Sleep Station "Hang in there Charlie," Sleep Station "Anhedonia," Elliott Smith "Either/Or," Sleep Station "Runaway Elba-1," Elliott Smith "XO," and the Beatles "Let it Be Naked." So I've been listening to a wide, wide variety of music lately, if you can't tell. Check it. Later.

It's February 19th, and it's almost 60 degrees outside right now. This is wonderful.

So I was walking around campus today, and I overheard two lines from a conversation that went like this:
Guy: "Holy shit, you've never had Cheerwine?"
Girl: "No, what's that?"

I couldn't help but laugh after hearing that, what since Cheerwine is amazing. It's like the underground soda. Better than most of the other stuff that's out there - but no one knows about it. Thankfully, it's found in a few of the vending machines around campus, so I can get my Cheerwine fix whenever I want. If you've never heard of it/tried it, you need to. It's one of the best sodas ever. A special thanks to Karen for enlightening me two or three years ago about the greatness of Cheerwine.

Time for a random tangent: In fifth grade, there was a kid (I forgot his name) whose dad worked at the Coca Cola factory. This was when I lived in Geogria, so the Coke factory was a mere half hour, forty minutes away. Well, for our "fifth grade party" (you know, the big social gathering at the end of the year), this kid's dad brought in a soda that was still in the works. It was called "OK." They had cans made and designed and everything. I remember it was a grey can with a hand giving a thumbs up sign, and then lots of interesting/fun facts written in a red font around the can. I can't quite remember what it tasted like, but, suffice to say, it was okay. Anyway, it was just really cool getting to try out a soda that no one had ever tried before - and probably no one else really has. I don't ever remember "OK" making it on to store shelves. So ha. I'm cooler than you.

I wrote a new song last night. I now have a grand total of three joke songs. Two of which are songs, the third of which is a rap that I never, ever plan on performing in front of anyone, since I can't rap. Don't Puke On Me is probably the best song I'll ever write, but this new joke song has potential. We'll see. I'll give you the lyrics, if you're good.

Music aplenty, as always. Recently it's been Sleep Station, Creeper Lagoon, and The Get Up Kids. Adam also found out about this guy, Rocky Votolato, who writes some really great acoustic guitar songs. You should check any and all of those bands out.

Anyway, you've been a great audience, so I guess you are entitled to the song lyrics. Here you go:

Lost: Flying Squirrel (Looks Like A Chipmunk)

Gather round kids cause you’re about to hear a solemn tale
About my buddy with the cutest, fluffiest tail

The tale starts one sunny afternoon
I was sitting with a spoon
Upon my hand, for my buddy

He likes ice cream, he likes the booze
He looks Cheerios too
There’s nothing he likes more than Big League Chew

Now he’s
Lost: Flying squirrel (looks like a chipmunk)
He was lost near TDU (x2)

The search continued for 3 days
I thought of the million ways
In which I missed my buddy

How we’d laugh, how we’d play
How I’d always say
You’re my pal forever. Forever.

Now he’s
Lost: Flying squirrel (looks like a chipmunk)
He was lost near TDU (x2)

4” long, brown on top white on the
Bottom. Bottom. He’s got the cutest bottom you’ve ever seen.

(enter the slow part, mostly talked with guitar lightly strumming)
I remember that time you turned and looked at me with your beady eyes.
It was kind of creepy. But you complete me.
And remember that time we went to that costume party?
I was dressed as Bullwinkle. Everyone got a good laugh out of that.
I hope we do that again, cause it’s almost Halloween and I don’t know what to be.
I hope you’re safe. I hope these long winter nights aren’t too cold without your Cheerios and booze.
But I know in my heart that one day you’ll be…

Found: Flying squirrel (looks like a chipmunk)
He was lost near TDU (x2)

Yesterday I chose to celebrate Fred Savage Is A Dweeb Day, rather than Valentine's Day. Who's with me?

Overall, the day was fairly uneventful. "Just another Saturday," as Lagwagon would say in their awesome song, May 16. Which I played last night on my Anti-Valentine's Day show, by the way. I didn't feel any deep vengence towards anyone (unlike some people), but that's only because I limited my interactions with other people. I don't think I have a deep or profound message for you, either (unlike some people), but that's only because I'm not deep and I'm not profound. The closest I can get is this: Why is it that the people who don't care are always the ones you wished did? Think about that for a while, huh?

So in case you want to make your own Anti-Valentine's Day mix for next year, here's what I'd suggest, in the order I played them:
1. Arm Yourself - Filmmaker
2. Ex-Miss - New Found Glory
3. Halloween - Aqua (How much more Anti-Valentine's Day can you get?)
4. I Didn't Understand - Elliott Smith
5. She Thinks I Still Care - Drag The River
6. May 16 - Lagwagon
7. Breakin Up - All
8. True and Cold - Cadillac Blindside
9. Please Don't Do This - Plain White T's
10. In My Eyes - Rufio
11. Jaked on Green Beers - Alkaline Trio
12. Hey, What Time Is "Pensacola: Wings of Gold" On, Anyway? - The Lawrence Arms
13. Into Your Arms - Starmarket
14. Laymen Terms - Lagwagon
15. Pink Triangles - Weezer
16. I Walk Alone - Oleander
17. Lonesome Tears - Beck
18. Dear John - Diesel Boy
19. Jean Is Dead - The Descendents
20. Choke - Lagwagon
21. I Typed for Miles - Jets to Brazil
22. Throw in the Towel - No Motiv
23. The Way It Goes - Creeper Lagoon
24. As Your Ghost Takes Flight - Saves the Day
25. Love Story - Lagwagon
26. My Hell - Desert City Soundtrack
27. Sick - Lagwagon
28. Burn - Lagwagon
29. Abeyance - Junction 18
30. Already Gone - Mustard Plug
31. Single - Bad Astronaut
32. I'm A Loner, Dottie, A Rebel - The Get Up Kids
33. Betrayal - Audio Karate
34. None of the Above - The Weakerthans
35. Shut the Door - The Mad Caddies
36. Enjoy Your Day - Alkaline Trio

Here's the annual list of people I hate, published on Valentine's day.

1. Everyone

And that's it. Alright, so maybe it's a generalization, and maybe I just had a really bad day, which I did, but it's still pretty accurate. I don't hate some people (you know who you are, your names don't get published). But mostly I hate just about everyone. Case in point: Today at work we were busy because there was some kind of gay pride rally or something I didn't know about (I'm very pro-gay, I'm just saying, there were a bunch of queer sounding guys there) and a million high school kids gathered to debate or something. So I'm kind of edgy just because I don't like people to start with, and I don't like being busy at work. I brought my homework so I could finish it, but nope. Anyway, up until like 15 minutes before close no one had been really mean to me, just the usual idiots who can't get past the fact that we run out of things sometimes. You tell them you're out of steak and they stand there like you've offended their being. But I've almost gotten used to it, I just blow them off like the morons they are, secretly hoping that death comes to them soon so that the human race has a few less jackasses to worry about. But then this old guy (50's, I'd guess) comes in and orders some steak, and I tell him we're out, and he asks what he can have for free since we're out of something we were advertising. I've had people ask this before and if I had a sharp axe, I'd have their heads mounted on my wall. But I just said "Nothing." and he settled for roast beef. He orders two, one with all the veggies, one with nothing. So I make them. And then he leaves.
Five minutes later he's back, talking to Natalie, the girl I was working with. I was busy cleaning getting ready to close, so I wasn't really paying attention. The first thing I heard was Natalie asking "Would you like us to make you another one?" And I'm thinking, did this idiot order wrong? Cause I made them right. And then he goes "No, I'm going to get his ass fired." And I'm like, wait, who? And he's looking at me, so I figured it out. And I start thinking, what did I do to deserve a firing? I haven't killed anyone yet today, I don't recall peeing on anything... Nope, I didn't do anything. So I keep listening, because pussy man over there is too scared to come talk to me about it, he's got to bitch to Natalie. He says something about me giving him a sandwich with nothing on it, and I'm thinking well yeah, he ordered one with everything and one with nothing. And he goes on to mention how this is "bullshit" about a hundred times, and how this isn't the way to run a business. Like I give a shit. Anwyay, he asks Natalie for my name, because I'm such an imposing figure he can't ask me for my own name. I probably would have told him my name was "Fuck you, dickface, leave before I cut your fucking nuts of with this knife." So he takes my name and Natalie's name, bitches a little more while looking and pointing at me, and leaves.
So we close the gate, I tell Natalie that I'm sure that guy's going to get us fired, and we're closing up. And the guy comes back after the gate's closed and throws his sandwich on the floor and basically repeats what he said earlier. Apparently our "Yeah, I really give a shit if you're mad" attitude didn't work for him, so he was back to rile us up some more. And it worked, I was making myself a sandwich and I was tossing shit all over the place I was shaking so bad. So he clears up his earlier comment about "sandwich with nothing on it" by saying I didn't put enough roast beef on there. Apparently not realizing that I put six pieces on there like I do and have done on every single roast beef sandwich I've ever made. At this point he's still bitching about my "poor job" to Natalie, so when he points at me and says "He fucked up my sandwich," I look at him and say "Yeah, that was me" in my most "Yeah, I get your point, you're a fucking moron, please shut up" tone. And he finally summons up the courage to face me (from behind a gate and far away) and he looks at me and says "I'm going to the people who run this place, and you're going down." So I reply with "Yeah, I'm going down" in my most "Shut up, I ain't going down nowhere" tone. So he slowly starts leaving, but he keeps saying the word "bullshit" and looking at me, so I just yell "Sir, get the fuck out of here or I'll call the police." So he left. Because he's a pussy. And I was cleaning the store and he was just off in the lobby staring at me. I've never wanted to kill someone so much as I did then. Instead of resorting to violence, I probably would have given this speech if he showed up again, though. "Look, you want me to apologize or something? Okay, I'm sorry you're a pathetic piece of dog shit, a hideous stain on humanity, a plague on society. I'm sorry your pathetic ass is fifty years old, alone on Valentine's day, with nothing better to do with your life than hang out in college student centers picking on kids less than half your age. I'm sorry that you chose to be such a pathetic suckass motherfucking piece of unholy fucking shit with no one to love you, no friends to spend the day with. But I'm not sorry for anything I did, so I ain't apologizing. So why don't you just take your sorry ass out back and shoot yourself in the fucking face, so the rest of us don't have to deal with you anymore? And I swear to God that if you make one move towards me or say one word to me, I'll pick up this chair and bash your hideous face in."

The moral of this story? It reinforces why I hate everyone, first of all. Second of all, I'm going to use this to plea with everyone to just settle down and take it easy. This guy was acting like I ruined his life because the people who cut the roast beef at the Subway factory cut it small this time. It's a goddamn sandwich. We were willing to put more meat on there if he'd asked for it (really, I'll do just about anything, I really don't give a shit, I gave a guy a piece of bread for free today just to make him go away). But he insisted that I would be fired for doing my job correctly (or incorrectly, as he saw it). I've got a feeling that Nancy my boss won't even mention this to me if the guy does talk to her about it. But anyway folks, why do we take ourselves and our lives so seriously? We're here for like 75 years, we do what we do, and we die. If someone does something that bothers you, is it really worth it to get all pissed off? What function does that serve? Are you bettering your life by putting someone down? Look, let's face it, you're never going to amount to anything in the grand scheme of things. A hundred years from now no one will remember you. No one will remember me. I'm fine with it. That's why most of you have never seen me really mad (except anyone who's seen me today). Cause I really don't care about much. If someone shortchanges me a few cents, I don't feel like arguing with them to get it back. If it's a lot of money then I'll present my case. If I order a pepperoni pizza but I get a mushroom pizza, I'm not going to ask them to take it back. I'll eat it, we all make mistakes. If I go to a sandwich shop and I'm not completely satisfied with the product, I don't feel the need to make the employees feel bad about it, or threaten to fire them, or yell at anyone. So the sandwich wasn't as good as I'd hoped it would be, I think I'll be fine. I'll have another, better sandwich some other day. Life goes on. So my Valentine's day message is twofold. One, if I ever see that motherfucker again, I'll fucking kill him. And two, if we could all just chill out and not let the pressures of the world get to us, and not let little unimportant things bother us, we'd all live longer, happier lives, and I wouldn't be writing this right now. So happy Valentine's day, I hope you've made all the card manufacturers and flower shops rich, you stupid slaves to the system. And Cam, sorry for last night. Spongebob had a good time, though, and so did I so... sorry for fucking up your date, we're just assholes, I suppose. Peace.

"Good friend, how loud do you want life to shout her answers in your ear?" The Lawrence Arms. Awesome band, and they bring up an interesting question.

So I've done lots of reading, since reading and writing essays is about all you do when you're an English major. In my incredibly boring American Literature from the Beginning to the Civil War course, we're covering Ben Franklin's "Autobiography." Reading autobiographies - especially of famous people - is a very weird experience. You can't help but compare your own life to theirs. This only leads to bad thoughts, seeing as how Franklin, by the time he was my age, had already traveled to Philadelphia and London on his own penny. He was actually making something of himself, he was actually out in the world doing things. He wasn't just sitting there waiting for stuff to happen. And then he goes and becomes a huge icon. Makes your own life seem very insignificant.

In another class, I'm reading Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" for the third time. The first time I read it was senior year of high school. I wasn't that impressed. The second time I read it was last semester. And I wasn't that impressed. But now, I'm reading it again, and it's... I don't want to say amazing, but pretty damn good. The writing is simply beautiful. Conrad's grasp on the language (English being his third language, by the way) is astonishing. There's one quote I really like. It goes like this:
"...But I have a voice too, and for good or evil mine is the speech that cannot be silenced."

My roommate just turned off the light and went to bed. I guess that's a sign I should get to sleep, too. Night.

These are all things my Shakespeare and Myth teacher has said:

"The bathroom's the one place in the house where you don't want to be surprised by naked giants."
"It's as easy for a camel to fit through the head of a pin as it is for a rich man to get into heaven."
"If your teacher tells you to put your chairs in a circle, he's a tyrant."
"If you haven't seen Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, you're culturally deficient."
"When you get old you'll sleep 15 to 18 hours a day, in preparation for death."
"My wife likes Judging Amy, but I don't. I like Cheech."

That guy's awesome. His classes are like 50 minute story sessions, every once in a while related to what we're supposed to be talking about. We have two tests and two papers and a final, but we only have to do one test and one paper. So if we go in on test day and see we don't know anything on the test, we don't have to take it. He's retiring soon, so none of you will get to have him. But he's cool. Even though he laughs like my grandpa Murray, which kind of freaks me out. It's a weird little chuckle he's got.

Against Me! Coming to Denver on the 28th and Fort Collins on the 29th. If you don't go, you have no soul.

Subway's getting new salads on Monday. You heard it here first. Tell all your friends tomorrow and then when they start showing commercials, you'll look psychic.

I realized today that I have nothing to look forward to this week. A test tomorrow, work early on Saturday with a girl who doesn't talk, work on Monday with a girl who doesn't do anything but talk, a test on Tuesday (in the same class as I have a test tomorrow). And after Against Me!, I just might have to kill myself for lack of anything to look forward to. Let's hope it doesn't come to that. At least I can always count on my teacher to say funny stuff. Later.

I ate just one potato chip the other day. Willpower, folks.

Why do I always end up in the middle of things? Not to bitch about it, but seriously, what's up with that? Like I'll just be sitting in my room reading Foucault (and by reading, I mean letting my eyes move over the words while trying to understand what he's talking about), and then I'll hear my computer beep saying I got an IM. And the next thing I know I have to talk on the phone to my siblings about why they should be staying away from this girl I've never met. Back in high school I had two friends, Ryan and Kris, and they didn't like each other, so they'd talk shit to me about the other, and I listened and didn't say anything. So then they got to be friends, found out from each other that they'd been complaining to me, and yelled at me for being... something. Spineless, or a bad friend, or something, I don't remember. The same thing's kind of been going on this year in the house, without the payoff. Whatever, here's my philosophy. Everyone in this whole entire world can bend over and kiss my big fat hairy ass. That's right. Because it's times like these that I feel like I could just go hide out in a cave or strand myself on an island without anyone, and I'd be perfectly content. They (my teacher) say that when you're drowning, and you're about to die, it's like the most intense sense of euphoria ever. That's why kids play with plastic bags over their heads, and they hang themselves. Letting go, it must feel fucking amazing.

In history today the lady (I refuse to call her teacher because she doesn't treat us like people) said something about "What is reality?" And then there was this not at all interesting semi-pseudo-almost-but-not-really philisophical conversation about what if this is all a dream, what if none of this is real, that kind of shit we all thought about when we were 10 and have since decided doesn't matter. But allow me to put an end to this discussion. This world, what we see and perceive with our senses, is real. There's nothing else. Why would someone have constructed a fake world in which we're born, start working at 5, stop working at 70, and then die? I'd hope that if someone made an alternate reality or fantasy world they'd have more imagination than that. Flying cars, for example, or dragons that periodically wreak havoc. Basically if life was like Big Fish, then it would be interesting. As it stands, though, yes, this is real. Things that are boring are real, and life is boring.

And finally, Cam said something about never having been drunk. I've never been drunk either. I'm not particularly interested in it. I see what other people are like while drunk and I don't want to be them. Also, vomiting and headaches are not favorite pasttimes of mine.

In conclusion, if you've got a problem with someone, talk to them about it, not me. It is possible to eat just one potato chip, I'm not interested in drinking, and dragons are cool. Sayonara, bitches.

Staring at this blank post is intimidating, I don't know what to write. All I know is that I can do fancy things. While the stuff I have to write about may be boring, at least I'm presenting it in an interesting way. And maybe that'll somehow convince you, the reader, that I actually do have an interesting life. Speaking of my life, unlike Adam, I'll oft times use this as a means to bitch about my life..... Except, no.

I think if I were a criminal, the most embarrassing thing that could happen to me would be getting caught by the cops on Cops. That would suck. Do you think the relatives of those criminals tape the show and share it with all their friends? "Look, Jimmy's on TV!" It's possible.

So, thanks to Adam, I'm now a "staff member" for this "blog." Such odd terminology. However, "staff member" is infinitely cooler than "loser with an online journal no one will read," so I'll at least give it that.

This has been random. Music wise, The Weakerthans have been playing a lot in my CD player. Check them out.

That's about it for now. I have a feeling this'll say I posted this message on Tuesday at 1:50AM, but that's a lie. It's still Monday night, so don't listen to the lies.

Blog. That's a stupid word. What, was Weblo taken? Or mayb Ebl? Or elbow? Or Worble? Whatever happened to online journal? They could call it something stupid like Nejou. Or Onnal. Then I could go up to some girl and go "Want to see my Onnal?" Because my nuts haven't been kicked recently.

Anyway, I don't know what the hell to do with this. But I'll tell you what I am going to do with it. I'm going to link to it from our website, and call it updating. And you know what? After this post, I'm most likely going to completely forget about this. So let me add it to my favorites. That way next time I'm trying to find something, I'll go "Oh yeah, that thing" and then I'll close the favorites window so as to not feel guilty about not updating this.

Here's the deal. The only people who are going to read this are me, so I really don't feel like discussing my problems in life, or my views on anything at this point. Say someday something really big happens in my life, maybe then I'll get all mushy, but until then, I'm going to use this to get exercise with my fingers by pushing buttons. So to those of you nonexistent viewers who thought you could pry into my life by looking here, your better bet is to take a ladder and climb up and look in my window. I wouldn't recommend it, but I'm not going to call the police or anything. It wouldn't be that bad to have a stalker. Especially a bad stalker, one that just kind of hangs around all the time without attempting to be sercretive. Then I could introduce him/her to all my friends. Be like "Hey Cam, long time no see. That? Oh, that's my stalker, Sam. Sam's new at this stalker thing, he/she just stands there and doesn't say anything. Sometimes he/she buys me lunch, though, feeling guilty for watching me shower." Yeah, that'd be all right.

So every time I open realplayer on here, it like almost feezes my computer until I control alt delete it and close the application "realsched.exe." I bring this up because it's annoying, and because I don't know why it does that. Now, the obvious solution would be to blast realplayer to hell and never let it come back, but I've grown kind of attached to the big stupid oaf. It plays my CDs and lets me record mp3s to send to friends. I'm sure just about every other program in the world does that, but this is the only one I know how to use.

Check it. I was on campus from 10:40 to 9:15 today. So shut up about your lives, they aren't that bad. Peace.