I'm a college graduate now. I work full time. I have 2-3 hours of free time per day. It's weird. I wake up, I go to work, and I come home and go to sleep. Luckily, I like the women I work with, Tiffany and Thea, and I like driving cars around all day. I've been playing with Sirius satellite radio, which is neat but doesn't have a punk channel, so I could care less about owning it. Also, I've been playing with this hybrid-manual-auto thing that newer cars have where it's an automatic, but there's a place where you can stick the shifter to play like it's a manual, where you just click up or down to change gears, no clutch included. It's kind of lame but it reminds me of old arcade racing games when you played on manual if you were a loser who played manual. Anyway, new cars do lots of cool things that my car doesn't do. Like on the regular radio, it'll tell you what station you're listening to, what song and all that, right on the dash there. Magic, I tell you. I don't know how it knows that shit.

Anyway, today's my birthday, I'm 22. The girls at work bought me pizza. I've gotten calls from everyone now I think. So overall, it's an OK birthday. I'm going to go play XBOX360 at John's after this (I will have one of those when they become available again, but I don't even have time to play videogames right now really so it's not my top priority ahora.

In the biggest news of my life recently, Against Me! signed to a major record label, Epic Records. I have a couple things to say about this. One, Tom Gabel built this band from scratch, recording solo tapes at home and self-releasing them, and now they're the hottest band in the punk world, and it's genuinely because they write great music. On that count, they deserve a record deal that will give them a chance to be recognized as one of the best and most important bands of our time (yeah, I said it. I'll say this too, U2 is a completely overrated, mediocre band). On the other hand, let's look at the list of bands who've gone to major labels and have made mediocre to bad records: Thrice, Rise Against, AFI, Ataris, Yellowcard, and many more. Let's look at the list of bands who went to majors and made decent, but not quite as good as before, music: Thursday. And let's look at the list of bands who went to a major and made better music than before: Less Than Jake. So... The cards are stacked against Against Me! And then there's the fact that they put out a DVD last year that documented them being chased by majors and turning them all down. And then there's the fact that Album of the Year "Searching for a Former Clarity" is half talking shit about bands on majors. So... stunning news in the world of Adam. I honestly couldn't sleep last night for a while because of this.

Finally, Thea listens to country music, and there have been two songs that have really cemented why country music is what's wrong with America. These two songs are as follows.

Have You Forgotten? by Darryl Worley

I hear people saying we don't need this war
I say there's some things worth fighting for
What about our freedom and this piece of ground?
We didn't get to keep 'em by backing down
They say we don't realize the mess we're getting in
Before you start preaching
Let me ask you this my friend

Have you forgotten how it felt that day
To see your homeland under fire
And her people blown away?
Have you forgotten when those towers fell?
We had neighbors still inside
Going through a living hell
And you say we shouldn't worry 'bout Bin Laden
Have you forgotten?

They took all the footage off my T.V.
Said it's too disturbing for you and me
It'll just breed anger that's what the experts say
If it was up to me I'd show it every day
Some say this country's just out looking for a fight
After 9/11 man I'd have to say that's right

I've been there with the soldiers
Who've gone away to war
And you can bet they remember
Just what they're fighting for

Have you forgotten all the people killed?
Some went down like heroes in that Pennsylvania field
Have you forgotten about our Pentagon?
All the loved ones that we lost
And those left to carry on
Don't you tell me not to worry about Bin Laden
Have you forgotten?

Thanks, Darryl Worley, for reminding me why I hate Americans in the red states. Yeah, I think we should totally go to war with people unconnected to 9/11 for no reason. After all, they're not white! Go republicans, and go country!

And finally, I present Carrie Underwoods "Jesus Take the Wheel"
She was driving last Friday on her way to Cincinnati
On a snow white Christmas Eve
Going home to see her Mama and her Daddy with the baby in the backseat
Fifty miles to go and she was running low on faith and gasoline
It been a long hard year
She had a lot on her mind and she didn't pay attention
She was going way too fast
Before she knew it she was spinning on a thin black sheet of glass
She saw both their lives flash before her eyes
She didn't even have time to cry
She was sooo scared
She threw her hands up in the air

Jesus take the wheel
Take it from my hands
Cause I can't do this all on my own
I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
To save me from this road I'm on
Jesus take the wheel

It was still getting colder when she made it to the shoulder
And the car came to a stop
She cried when she saw that baby in the backseat sleeping like a rock
And for the first time in a long time
She bowed her head to pray
She said I'm sorry for the way
I've been living my life
I know I've got to change
So from now on tonight

Jesus take the wheel
Take it from my hands
Cause I can't do this all my own
I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
To save me from this road I'm on

Oh, Jesus take the wheel
Oh, I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
Save me from this road I'm on
From this road I'm on
Jesus take the wheel
Oh, take it, take it from me
Oh, why, oh

I've rewritten this song a little to be more true to life, and it goes like this:
She was driving last Friday on her way to Cincinnati
On a snow white Christmas Eve
Going home to see her Mama and her Daddy with the baby in the backseat
Fifty miles to go and she was running low on faith and gasoline
It been a long hard year
She had a lot on her mind and she didn't pay attention
She was going way too fast
Before she knew it she was spinning on a thin black sheet of glass
She saw both their lives flash before her eyes
She didn't even have time to cry
She was sooo scared
She threw her hands up in the air

Jesus take the wheel
Take it from my hands
Cause I can't do this all on my own
I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
To save me from this road I'm on
Jesus take the wheel

She flew off the road because she took her hands off the wheel and she died, the end.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Feliz Navidad

Soonish(ish) is a word that means "maybe soon, maybe not so soon." So therefore, it was an accurate word to describe when this post would come.

I have playing right now a man named Sufjan Stevens, whose album "Illinois" is one of the best things to come out this year. He was brought to my attention by Noranna, in Australia. So thanks! I ordered it in the mail with stuff from The Weight, Rocky Votolato, Antony and the Johnsons, and more. I decided it was time for me to invest in some more folky, acoustic type stuff, as well as some more alt-country. Yay for expanding musical horizons.

Cam and Charlie and I were out at Lucky Joe's, our favorite sit and talk bar, and Cam and I got to talking about videogames. The Xbox 360 is out, and really, from the first batch of games, I'm not impressed. The graphical quality is not really that much advanced from this generation's games, and the games themselves really do nothing new at all. It's like they just rereleased the Xbox at twice the price with a cool new design and a power source that's bigger than some people's houses. I'm sure this is just a problem with the first batch of games, because they had to rush to get them to market quick, and really, while it doesn't sound like the 360 will change the face of videogames, it does sound like it will feature huge advances in in-game physics and storytelling, thanks to its three terribly powerful independent processors. But what's really interesting to me is the way the Nintendo Revolution's controller has changed in my viewpoint. For those of you who don't know, the Revolution, coming out mid-late next year, will have a controller that looks like a TV remote. It has one big button, a couple others, and a D-pad. No analog stick. The analog stick, along with other add-ons, will be able to stick out of the bottom of the controller via a port. But the way you play games with this thing is you wave it around, and it detects the motion of the controller. While it sounded pretty stupid at first, I got to thinking, and imagine playing a tennis game and actually swinging the racket, or actually aiming the gun in a first person shooter. Playing racing games you could actually turn the steering wheel, playing football you could juke by jerking the controller to one side. Playing Zelda, you could swing your sword. This, I feel, if it's done right, could really change the way games work, and it's one reason why the Xbox 360 isn't as exciting as it should be. No matter what advances it makes, it will be the same games repackaged that we've been playing forever. Not that I don't want one. I do. I'm a videogame nerd and I want it. But I'm not willing to pay 900 bucks for one on Ebay.

On the same token, Cam and I are going to try to write a top 10 videogames of all time list. And I need to get my top 10 CDs of 2005 out here too, since there's really nothing else coming out worth looking at for the rest of the year.

Cam has this little thing called 20 Questions, and what it does is you think of something and it asks you 20 questions, and then it guesses, and it's almost always right. It knew we were thinking of Playstation, a lego block, an emu, and even a sponge, though we didn't know anything about sponges to answer its questions correctly. Danny put it right when he said "This is like the coolest thing I've ever seen!" You all should go to Toys R Us or something like that and buy one, and watch as it BLOWS YOUR MIND!

I start my new job in two weeks from today, and I still don't know where I'll actually be working. I've been trying to get a hold of these people for a week now, and I can't get them. I can't quit my job at Officemax until I find this out, because if they want me to work in Springs or like Limon or some crap, I'm just not going to take the job. Limon, by the way, sucks. You can see it on highway signs hundreds of miles away from the place, making you think it'll be this big metropolis hidden away in eastern Colorado. But no, it's just some little shit town with an outhouse, a mule, and maybe a truck stop, and like three toothless hilbillies playing the banjo and spitting in a pot. The highway signs for I-70 east should just say "Jack Shit: next 500 miles," because that's the kind of honesty I want from my street signs.

Speaking of street signs, there needs to be some kind of system for placement on these things. Ever try to find someone's house in the dark? You have to sit at each intersection for 10 minutes trying to figure out which corner the tiny, unlit street sign is on, and then you have to get out of your car and cut down the tree that's grown in front of it so you can see it. I hate street signs.

I wrote my last paper ever for school today. It's a sad little five page affair involving no research and really very little academic merit. Tomorrow I give my last presentation ever for school. With and to a bunch of honors kids who probably care about this thing. Me, on the other hand, I don't. Even though technically it's my final. Don't care. Couldn't be bothered to give a shit. I'm out of shit to give. I'm keeping my shit from now on. It feels good. I feel like I should celebrate this feeling, but I dont' know when I'll have time or friends to celebrate with. Everyone will be busy with finals, and then I start working full time. But it seems like graduation and a birthday should be too good of a good excuse to get people to buy me some drinks to miss. I don't know if that sentence made sense.

How about that Colbert Report? That is some funny shit. I know because my DVR records every single instance of the show because it's too stupid to figure out which ones are reruns. So I have to go through and delete like 10 episodes of that and the Daily Show every day, since Comedy Central plays it at 12am, 2am, 9am, 11am, 7pm, and 9pm every day. Does it seem like maybe they need a new show to take up some of that time?

Lost is on break until January 11th, apparently. This gives me time to watch the second season of Deadwood. Cam and I also tried to come up with a top 10 list of TV shows in the past 10 years, but we only came up with like 3, which really says more about the state of TV than our memories. What it says about TV is, it's a huge giant waste of time.

I now have a friend in China. My cult is slowly spreading across the world. Watch out, Lichtenstein, your time is coming! I'd give her more of a shoutout, but China's government blocks this site because it knows these words I write would incite a full scale revolution. Like this: Hey China, suck less! Good thing they can't read that. Or else they'd be like "Oh wow, this is amazing, I never thought about sucking less. Maybe I should!" and then they'd tear down their repressive government, form a religion around me, and shower me with gold and women. Yeah, good thing China blocks websites like this one. Dangerous stuff.

I guess that's all.

This is a Thanksgiving post. Bob Richburg, Mr. I Hate Adam Because He Leaned on a Chalkboard, says we have a serious assignment where we're supposed to thank people for things. 10 people. And write three letters to people. Heartfelt. Honest. Really tearful stuff, grab a tissue. Well, Bob Richburg, no. No, I'm not going to do that. Not because I think the idea is stupid, which it's not, but because you're assigning it. Just like I didn't give to your charity because you begged. You don't force people to do charitable things. That defeats the whole purpose.

So thank you to everybody in the whole entire world, I love you all and wish you well.

Real post coming soonish(ish).

Yeah so apparently some states think that intelligent design deserves to be taught in schools still. Like Kansas. I've been to Kansas. Kansas is evidence that intelligent design is not valid. Because Kansas was not designed intelligently, you see. Drum fill, move on.

I think that in Virginia though, or one of those states around there, all the school board members who wanted to teach intelligent design got kicked out of their seats in this past election. Which just goes to show, the more inland you get, the less intelligent you get. Yay coasts!

I do believe that my Leslie got roofied or something last Thursday on Cam's birthday when we were out at the bars. Long story short, if you have to resort to drugging girls to get laid, you're a pathetic piece of shit, and if you try pulling that crap on my friends, you're asking for a beating. So watch out, ugly kid with the scraggly beard, if Danny or Cam or Charlie or I see you again, you're dead. I mean that very literally.

Lagwagon's new CD is pretty much amazing. And I'm going to go see them with the Lawrence Arms in Denver next Thursday. If Against Me! was on that tour I would kill myself immediately afterwards, because the rest of my life would pale in comparison.

I gave a speech in my honors seminar that my teacher hated because I leaned on the chalk board, had my thumbs in my pockets, and delivered the speech like I was telling a story to friends. Apparently I was supposed to stand up straight, hands out of my pockets, holding a piece of paper, with some kind of visual, and give the same exact speech. Bob Richburg can kiss my ass. Also, he keeps having people from his church come in and give guest presentations, and now he's trying to get us to donate money to something that favors Christians over any other religious group. To that, I say no. I don't donate to things I don't believe in, and I don't believe that Jesus was that great a dude. I also don't donate to monsters, republicans, or evil. Oh wait, those are all the same thing.

I'd just like to point out that Bill Clinton got impeached for lying about a blowjob, but Bush is sitting pretty after lying about a war. Great priorities, America.

Lost is pretty much the best thing ever. I don't know if you guys watch this show at all, but it deserves credit for the following things. One, it was one of the scripted shows responsible for helping kill off some of the reality shows. Yay for writers! Two, it really shows me that drama is a viable genre on a weekly TV show. I just dont' get the appeal of watching the same show every week (CSI, Law and Order). Things actually happen on Lost. Three, it's beautiful. Four, it introduced Evangeline Lilly. And five, Cam just got the DVDs of the first season like five days ago, and I'm up to episode 13. That's the mark of a good show. Even if they never solve any of their mysteries.

Cam may have fixed his computer so we can watch shows from it on the TV again. Second season of Deadwood, here we come. The first season DVDs were some of the best 85 bucks I've ever spent.

Curb Your Enthusiasm is a good show, but they play it like twice a day, and therefore we have like 20 episodes on our DVR, and that kind of really annoys me.

Based on my experience riding my bike on campus, I think that maybe people should have to pass a driver's test and get a license to ride a bike, and I also think people who talk on cell phones whilst riding a bike should be drop kicked off of their bikes. By ninjas.

I love records.

We won the intramural wiffleball championship. We being me and Charlie and Danny and some kid who I think was named Josh, and I really should remember his name because he's the reason we won. He pitched like 5 full games of shutout wiffleball, whereas I pitched one, two run inning. That's the difference between him and me. Also, his name is Josh, and mine is Adam. And he's taller than me. And really, we have many more differences than we do similarities.

If I asked you really nicely to punch me in the face, and I really meant it, would you do it? And if so, how hard? We're talking like the cheek area here. I'd show you but you're not in the same room as me.

My friend Kate is like the same person as me except she's short and a girl and is Kate and not me.

If I had more money I would buy more things for myself, because I'm an American, goddamnit, and I need to accumulate stuff to feel successful. At this point I am just rambling so goodbye.

This is my friend Noranna. I am in awe of my friend Noranna.

jinxie jinx anna: I feel like static right now
jinxie jinx anna: like life is very blah with my unfortunate recent visa news
jinxie jinx anna: and trying to find a job
jinxie jinx anna: and I dunno, just life in general
Flummothekitty: i know, i feel the same way about my life. just really totally stale. what's this visa news?
jinxie jinx anna: I've lived in australia since '98
jinxie jinx anna: but I wasn't born ehre
jinxie jinx anna: here
jinxie jinx anna: so I've been living on visas the whole time I was here
jinxie jinx anna: have I told you this?
Flummothekitty: no, i was under the impression you were australian. where were you born?
jinxie jinx anna: borneo
jinxie jinx anna: i've moved here when I was 14
jinxie jinx anna: by myself, which sucked
jinxie jinx anna: because I couldn't get PR for awhile
jinxie jinx anna: 2 weeks ago, they cancelled my visa
jinxie jinx anna: and they say I can't apply for a new visa for at least 3 years
jinxie jinx anna: cos of blah blah regulations shit
Flummothekitty: that's bizzare. so what does that mean for you?
jinxie jinx anna: well, I applied for tribunal to look over the issue
jinxie jinx anna: and it usually takes forever so I'm cool to stay
jinxie jinx anna: but they withheld my passport
jinxie jinx anna: and if I leave the country now, I can't go back for 3 years
jinxie jinx anna: but right now, I can stay probably for another 7-12 months
jinxie jinx anna: gives me time to look for employment
jinxie jinx anna: if I can get a full-time job that contracts me for at least 2 years... I get my PR right away
jinxie jinx anna: and don't have to worry about visas forever
jinxie jinx anna: PR = permanent residency
jinxie jinx anna: I've applied for a few jobs already that are at least 2 years
jinxie jinx anna: most of them contract until like mid-2008 so that's good
jinxie jinx anna: and I'm qualified plus they're really good pay of at least $50,000 p/a with 17% super + beenefits
jinxie jinx anna: but I dunno, it's making me think about life and stuff
jinxie jinx anna: and I dunt want to go back because I just can't
Flummothekitty: why did you move so young alone?
jinxie jinx anna: I'll get a culture shock and living with the parents will kill me (I love them heaps but I haven't lived with them since I was 14)
jinxie jinx anna: meh, experience
jinxie jinx anna: I just wanted to get away from the slow, boring life
jinxie jinx anna: plus, if I stayed I would have probably ended up in some arranged, fucked up marriage at 16 and have 4 kids by now
jinxie jinx anna: and probably couldn't have got into college, etc
jinxie jinx anna: or even finish high school
jinxie jinx anna: so I knew I didn't want that
jinxie jinx anna: and I applied for a school scholarship in australia and got in
jinxie jinx anna: and been staying / living here since
Flummothekitty: wow, i like that. people like you make me feel like i've done very little with my life. and also make me realize there's a lot of exciting stuff can be done
jinxie jinx anna: sure
jinxie jinx anna: I like adventures
jinxie jinx anna: :D
jinxie jinx anna: and it was weird because I used to be very, very shy (still shy but not too shy anymore), and quiet and rather lonely
jinxie jinx anna: I didn't have many friends at all (not that there was many people to know of)
jinxie jinx anna: I lived in like a rural village and stuff
Flummothekitty: in borneo?
jinxie jinx anna: it's all rather national geographic ish
jinxie jinx anna: yeah
jinxie jinx anna: actually we've had like discovery travel ppl visit with their backpacking gear
jinxie jinx anna: twas funny
jinxie jinx anna: and I didn't know english before I came and now I'm more fluent in it than my first language
Flummothekitty: what is the language of borneo?
jinxie jinx anna: malay
jinxie jinx anna: but there's different dialects for different tribes etc
jinxie jinx anna: but I understand all of them so it's ok
Flummothekitty: wow, i had no idea. so accent wise, what do you have? australian, since that's what you learned?
jinxie jinx anna: yeah
jinxie jinx anna: but some ppl say I have a bit of an american twang
jinxie jinx anna: lol
jinxie jinx anna: cos I learned english quickly from watching tv
jinxie jinx anna: and everything on tv is usually american
jinxie jinx anna: so yeah..
jinxie jinx anna: like I say "Four" really american-y
jinxie jinx anna: like Four Your Torn Mourn
jinxie jinx anna: I emphasise the R
jinxie jinx anna: most people can't tell I wasn't born here
jinxie jinx anna: and it sucks because like, I know some ppl who get PR instantly cos they have family here and they can't even speak english
jinxie jinx anna: and I dunno, it's all fucked and crazy
jinxie jinx anna: but I am going to stay optimistic about it tho

Anyway, that makes me want to travel and travel and travel and experience and experience and experience and just live and live and live. One of these days, before I get too old...

Last night we drove home from the Against Me! concert on a layer of water an inch thick, hydroplaning the whole way, no traction, no visibility because of fog and rain, and it was so much fun. Terrifying, but I find that those drives when one jerk of the steering wheel or one bad spot on the road will send you careening into traffic or off the road are some of the most fun drives. I like things that put me close to death, but I still have a measure of control. Being close to death really makes you feel alive.

Against Me! was amazing as always, in case you were wondering. The Soviettes were decent, their songs all kind of sounded the same, but they did have four singers, which I like. Smoke or Fire was their usual entertaining selves. The Epoxies did nothing but annoy me. I saw my brother there with this girl named Rachel. Everyone I know is Rachel these days. I think it would be prudent at this juncture to remind everyone of how much I hate Denver. The amount: a lot.

I put my right contact in this morning and went and ate breakfast and my eye was itchy, so I went back into the bathroom before work and my eye was completely and totally bloodshot red. I thought I had pink eye. I wore glasses to work today and the redness went away. So have no fear, people, you can touch my eye and then touch yours without fear of infection. Except you can't touch my eye because that'd be weird. Sicko.

I love mushrooms. Mmmmm...

I got like five guacamole recipes at the same time and somehow combined them in my head and made disgusting guacamole twice. This next time it's just going to be avocados, a little sour cream, and either salsa or tomatoes. Keep it simple to begin with. I need to learn how to cook. Also, it appears to be important to know the difference between a clove and a bulb of garlic, because if you put two bulbs of garlic in something thinking it's a clove, it's physically painful to eat, and you smell like garlic for a week, even if you brush your teeth every fifteen minutes. So just, you know, keep that in mind.

I finally met Kate's friend Rachel (or, I could say at this point, my friend Rachel) on Saturday. She seemed cool. We didn't get to talk all that much except for on the walk back to our cars because there were lots of people there, but hopefully we'll have the opportunity in the future. She was very cute though, that's for sure. I'm going to her Halloween party on the 21st, if someone (Kate! Rachel! Sarai!) will make me a costume. Sarai says I can buy a really gay bee costume at Spencers but Kate wants to dress me in a leotard and make a costume out of that, which would also be very gay. So we'll see. Last resort, I'll just go buy that one from Spencers. I just don't want to be the idiot who shows up to a Halloween party wearing a work uniform and being like "Look, I'm an Officemax employee!" Lame. Anyway, Rachel and I were supposed to be getting coffee (hot chocolate) together tonight or Wednesday, and since I haven't heard from her today, I don't know if that's still on. Hopefully. It's cold and I like hot chocolate.

In other news, I forgot how to spell Halloween. I thought Haloween for some reason, but then decided against it in favor of the correct spelling.

Underworld is much better than Libra. Even though it's some 900 pages. Which is 600 pages too long. Kate still hasn't finished Libra. I think she should give up.

I just made brownies and I'm going to eat some in a little bit while they're still warm and dump ice cream on top of them and have an orgasm and all that good stuff. For all my faults, I can make some delicious brownies (from a box). I found out my early class is cancelled tomorrow because Bob's stuck in Portland. The Yankees are losing. Everything seems to be alright with the world except that the Braves lost in the first round of the playoffs AGAIN, and I lost a bet with Erin about the Patriots Falcons game yesterday. I can't complain too much.

Sarai fucked me over good, and I learned that even I, the world's greatest and most moral person, can succumb to the basest of human instincts. Sucks. I was really upset with myself, and really really really angry with her. More angry than I think I've been with anyone in years. But it passed. I don't hold grudges. I think she's scared to hang out with me now. She's leaving Colorado for good in December. I don't know how to feel about that. I hate not being able to save people.

My car smells like someone comes in and farts in it when I'm not there. Cam was saying the same thing about his car recently. What the hell is that. We must have some guy who goes around, unlocks cars, farts in them, and locks them again, who lives in this apartment complex. That's just weird. I need to get an oil change and probably rotate my tires. My car gets like 32 miles to the gallon.

Wow. This has been long.

Alright, stop your clamoring, here's an update. Today I was in the park after riding my bike all the way to Laporte accidentally and getting lost and using the old "mountains are to the west" trick to get back into Fort Collins. This guy is walking a pig on a leash, right, and he's trying to pick up girls with it. It was either working, because these girls were standing there talking to him for a while, or it wasn't, because they then left and sat down at another spot not too far away. Alls I know is, I spent the time thinking "How am I supposed to compete with a guy walking a fucking pig?" Seriously. That's like not even fair, he should be fined or something. Not that I was trying to compete, I was trying to read Libra (which, by the way, would mean "book" in spanish if it was a feminine noun, and I'm sure there's some deeper meaning there), but still, that's just cheating. That's grabbing money out of the bank when the other player's rolling the dice. What a jerk.

I think this past weekend (aside from today, which was kind of lame) was the most fun I've had in a while. Friday night Sarai and I went over to John's and played DDR, but Sarai got frustrated at her whiteness while I shook my booty like... a... professional booty shaker or something. Saturday was all kinds of fun, Kate and her friend Robin and Sarai and I met up with Cam and Charlie and John and Rachel and Stoney and everybody else for the football game. Kate is turning out to be the awesomest person. I've had her in a class every year since my first semester at school, and I never talked to her because I was too shy and she was too mysterious and all that bullshit, but then I finally got some balls this semester and talked to her and she's way cool. I knew a girl who dressed like she does had to be someone I would get along with. She has a website on which she sells purses and monsters and scarves and probably other things, and that website is http://www.madewithrobotlove.com and maybe if you folks buy stuff from her she'll give me a cut of the action and I can buy that new life I've always wanted. She's supposed to be making me a shirt but who knows what's up with that. Plus she "accidentally" grabbed my junk at the game last night and turned bright red and couldn't stand up from laughing too hard. She's so shy it's cute. Anyway.

So how do you get lost and end up in Laporte when you're riding your bike, you ask? I'll tell you. You go the other way on the trail you usually take, and find out it's just this lame little loop and you assume you end up back on the road you turned off of, but really you're on some other road that goes perpendicular to the original road, and don't realize it until you see lots of stuff that says Laporte on it, and then you realize you've been riding way longer than you should have been. Then you just orient the mountains on your right and ride back until things look familiar again. I love riding my bike. I wish it wasn't getting cold soon. I thought I lost my green jacket, but then I realized I just left it in my car. Whew. The day I lose that jacket, I will die a little inside.

That new story I put up last time was not the story I was originally working on. That story was/is about a plane and I might still finish it. But unfortunately I am otherwise dry of ideas for stories right now. So for the none of you that come here to read stories, sucks to be you. I mean, sorry.

Apparently I'm "trim" according to Kate's roommate Erin, who is "tall" and has "red hair." That means I'm "fit" which is not a word I would ever consider using to describe how I look, but even since Kate told me Erin said that, I've looked in the mirror and been like "Oh hell yeah I'm fit, look at me, all trim and shit." Kate says I don't wear enough form fitting clothing. Not directly she said that, but I inferred it. But if I move down to a medium, I'll be one of those guys who wears shirts to show off his "hot" body and I will never be one of those guys, so sorry ladies.

September 28th is Leslie's birthday, so if I don't update again by then, let's all wish Leslie a happy birthday!

September 30th is Kate's birthday, so if I don't update again by then, let's all wish Kate a happy birthday!

September 30th is Weezer/Foo Fighters concert, so let's all wish Cam and I an awesome time at the concert! Sucks that I can't go to Kate's birthday party though. But it is Weezer.

October 8th is Against Me! in Wyoming, and I'm pretty sure I'm going up. It's a Saturday night so if anyone wants to go see what promises to be the musical equivalent of the second coming of Christ, let me know.

October 9th is Against Me! in Denver, so blah blah blah read the above paragraph, and if you're too lazy to sit in a car for a few hours on Saturday, come on Sunday! See ya!

This is a new story I wrote tonight called Starving to Death.

It’s hot. I should have worn sunscreen. I recently started riding my bike around town, in a large circle back to the park to read. Gets me some much needed exercise. There’s a swing by the lake that I really like. The sky is always so blue here. I’m sitting in my swing staring at this giant turtle sitting on a log between three crane looking birds. I don’t know anything about animals. They’re white birds with long necks. Probably good fishermen. Fisherbirds. I don’t know. But there’s this turtle just sitting there, and the birds seem to think it belongs, and it seems to think it belongs, so somehow it belongs. None of the animals are acting like it’s their log. I can’t tell which was there first, though I’d imagine it was the turtle, since they don’t move very fast.
A family on bikes rode by a few minutes ago and pointed this out to me. Well, they pointed it out to each other, but I was right there so I heard and took notice. The little kid on his tiny bike rode right in front of me like I wasn’t even there. He just stood there on his bike not five feet from me and had a conversation with his parents. This struck me as odd, since his parents were behind me, on the other side of the path. I guess it’s just weird to be treated like you don’t exist.
Recently a female friend told me my wardrobe is boring. And that I don’t have enough self-confidence, and that makes me so very unattractive. So in a sense, I guess, looking at my gray shirt and jean shorts, I don’t really exist. I mean, of course I do, but what do I have to distinguish myself from everyone else? Nothing. In that sense, I don’t exist. I be. But I don’t really exist.
My knees are red. The only part of my body that gets any sun. I’m going to have funny sunglasses tan. For some reason I thought that if I was riding my bike I wouldn’t get sunburnt, so I neglected to put on sunscreen. Like if I was moving, the sun’s rays wouldn’t hit me. Now that I have red knees, I see the folly in my thinking. I pull my shorts legs up to my underwear, exposing my white upper legs, hoping maybe I can get them tan. Like someone’s going to see me naked sometime soon. Ha. Every time someone walks or rides by I pull my shorts back down and cover up my skin. I don’t want to be seen tanning in public. Or I’m ashamed of my body. My legs are white as snow, and hairy. It’s very unattractive. Of course, if I’d just leave them out they’d be tan and less scary. Meh.
There was a woman in the other swing, maybe 40 feet away, when I came over here. Alone, maybe in her 50’s, wearing a long skirt that goes almost to her ankles, a light jacket, and a scarf or handkerchief or whatever it’s called over her head. She must be hot. I look over at the swing now and she’s not there. She’s moved down to the edge of the lake. She’s standing there looking out into the water all alone and it’s beautiful. It’s 90 degrees out today and here’s this woman all alone, dressed for autumn, standing by the edge of the lake. A poet would have a field day with this. It’s very windy and the wind caresses her skirt and her handkerchief.
I realize I’m not getting much reading done. But the wind is blowing the pages out from underneath my fingers so I have to keep turning back to the page. The wind is also blowing my gray t-shirt around on my back, and it feels good, like a back scratcher or a massage. So you take the good with the bad. It’s blowing hard enough to rock me gently on the swing. All in all I am enjoying my day, despite the fact that I don’t exist and my knees are sunburnt and my bottled water is warm and gross.
Every so often a girl will run or walk by, my age, and I want her to stop and sit and talk with me. I am lonely. I have no problem admitting this. The problem lies in becoming not lonely anymore. My mom told me that I should go to the park and read, and I’d meet a girl. Problem is, Mom, nobody’s going to stop and sit and bother some guy who’s reading on a swing. I look up each time and I smile, but behind the sunglasses I can't even tell if they see me. Plus, what’s a girl like these going to want with a nobody kind of guy like me?
It’s not just the girls I look up and smile at. I smile at kids and dogs and couples. I smile in an attempt to get people to smile back at me. Two old men walk by and say hello. I smile big and ask how they’re doing. They walk slowly past without responding. Human contact. I win. Old men are about the opposite of the ideal crowd I’m trying to get to talk to me, but hey, I’ll take it.
I read a while before the wind picks back up and makes it impossible. I look up and the woman is walking slowly up the hill back to her swing. Her swing is lower to the ground than mine and it looks like she’s kneeling in prayer when she sits down. My eyes aren’t great, and she’s far away, but she looks pretty. She’s 30 years older than me at least, I’m not physically attracted to her, but spiritually she looks beautiful. I can’t put my finger on it. She swings gently, pushing herself with her foot, staring out at the lake. She never turns her head. The people that pass me silently pass her silently and she doesn’t seem to notice. Her very existence on that swing makes me glad to be here. I feel connected to her, even though I’m fairly certain she doesn’t know I’m here.
I wonder who she is and how she came to be here. She’s not reading or anything. Is her husband at work? Is he dead? Recently dead? Is she here for the calming effect of the sun reflecting off the water as the wind creates waves over the surface of the lake? What is she thinking about? Who is she? Did she wake up today and decide she was going to come to the park and just sit? Is there something strange about that? It seems like in today’s world everyone should have something to do. I’m here to read. The girls are here to exercise. This woman is just here to be here. There’s something terribly sad and wonderful and out of place about that and it makes me feel lighter on the inside.
Another blond in short shorts and a skimpy top runs by me and I find myself wishing she would stop and talk. Just talk. Tell me that I’m alive. Show me that people notice me. I notice people. I want people to notice me but they never do. I smile, she runs by, eyes obscured by sunglasses. I try to remember if she’s run by before. Maybe she’s doing laps. Or maybe this was a new one. Why are all these girls blond? They’re all blond and tan and in great shape and they have no distinguishing features whatsoever. They spend their days getting hit on by losers like me, losers with a little more confidence that allows them to talk to the girls. They go out at night and drink and flirt and get guys to buy them drinks, and they go to the bathroom in groups, and their favorite quote is “Live for the nights we’ll never remember with the friends we’ll never forget” and they wear pink pants when they’re not out here running and really when it comes down to it it doesn’t matter if this is a different girl or the same girl running laps, because she has nothing to differentiate herself from thousands upon thousands of other college girls. She doesn’t exist anymore than I don’t exist.
This woman on the swing with her dress and her handkerchief, she exists, though nobody besides me seems to notice. I feel a longing to go over and sit with her and listen to her talk about herself, her life story, why she’s here today, how she can stand the heat dressed like that. I want to but I know I can’t. I can’t because I’m shy. I can’t because I have nothing to say to a woman of her age. I can’t because I don’t want to ruin the illusion I’ve built up in my mind.
I want to be in love but my knees are sunburnt and all my shirts are gray and my friend says I dress like a middle-aged man, and I can’t be loved because of all these things. I want to go lay my head in this woman’s lap and have her coo me to sleep stroking my head. She is right now the embodiment of everything good in this world.
I can’t see her face.
I realize I’m starving to death.
I need to read. The wind dies down for a moment and I try, but I find it impossible to concentrate. I’m scared that one time I’ll look up and she’ll be gone. I know she can’t stay here forever. The sky is blue and the lake is pretty. The ducks swim in a line, largest in front, smallest in back. Sometimes they quack and I smile. It’s such a funny sound. A little girl in a pink dress who must have just started walking waddles by behind her mother, who is talking on a cell phone about some kind of business. I want to talk to the girl, to ask her to sit down and tell me all about her life. I want to experience things from a new perspective. But I can’t do that because the mom would yell rape and it’s not right for a guy my age to be talking to a little girl like that. Even if it’s completely innocent. Even if I just want to learn from her. The three birds are still on the log with the turtle and I wonder if they’re just statues. Just then one of the birds flies off without saying goodbye. They’re not statues. Or maybe the others are, and this one bird just thought they were real, so he flew down and landed on the log, then hung out for a while before he realized they were statues, and now he flew off again because statues aren’t good conversation.
I turn again to look, and the woman is standing up. I know she’s leaving. I feel like a part of me is dying. I really feel like we’ve connected during our short time together. I want to walk over to her and tell her it’s been an honor and a privilege sharing this side of the lake with her, but I don’t want to scare her. She never looks at me. She never saw me. I watch her walk down the hill and out of sight. Whatever she was hoping to accomplish here in the swing by the lake, I guess she finished.
Things seem different once she’s gone. I settle down and start reading, pulling my shorts legs up to expose my pasty skin when nobody is around, pulling them back down when I hear someone approaching. My knees are very red. I imagine the top of my head is burnt too. I should really invest in a hat. Maybe a Braves cap. Maybe a floppy fisherman’s hat. I know I’m going to have funny sunglasses tan lines when I get home. I finish what I wanted to read. A woman who is going bald with badly dyed red hair is walking a dog that looks strangely like her as I stand up. I put my stuff away, drink the rest of my terrible hot bottled water, get on my bike and ride off. I will come back here every day I have the chance and I hope I never see the woman in the long skirt and handkerchief covering her head again.

This is why I don't read the newspaper when I get it. I just clip coupons.

So the government can't take care of its own citizens, that's good news. Glad to know if disaster strikes in one form or another we can all run around screaming our heads off with no one to take charge. I thought the reason we had government was that we give up some of our freedoms to do whatever we want in order that they take care of us in a situation like New Orleans. But apparently our government exists so that they can advance their personal beliefs as law and make a lot more money than they already have.

Gas prices are still really expensive even though the wholesale price has dropped back to a little over 2 bucks. Everyone's still paying around 3. That's, oh, say 80 cents profit per gallon for the gas station owners. On a little gas tank like mine, filling up gives 8.00 profit to the station. Multiply that by the hundreds/thousands of people who fill up each day, most with bigger tanks than mine, and that adds up to me needing to open up a gas station.

Priests abusing kids isn't news so much anymore, but I think accusing a priest who's already dead is pretty stupid. The guy can't even defend himself. It's now 40 years after the fact. Should have spoken up when it was going down. I don't like child abuse, but 40 years later bringing it back up so you can sue someone and get some money isn't real classy either.

And finally, some museum has decided that dinosaurs were created by God 6000 years ago, lived with man, went on the ark with Noah, etc. They say that the fossil record doesn't prove evolution. I say that the fossil record proves that A)The earth wasn't created 6,000 years ago, and B)Dinosaurs didn't live with man. Any rational human being can tell an allegory (the Bible) from a non-fiction account. The earth wasn't created in 6 days or whatever, and it wasn't created 6,000 years ago. Why would God put dinosaur bones, dateable to millions of years ago, in the ground? To make people not believe in him? Doesn't that seem a little weird? If I was some kind of god, I would try my hardest not to make people not believe in me.

I really want Taco Bell and Quiznos. Not at the same time, but I haven't had either in a while and they're both delicious.

I'm going to career fairs on Wednesday and Thursday with a backpack full of resumes. Maybe I'll even shower beforehand.

Intramural softball started last week. We play mens on Thursdays and mixed gender on Wednesdays. We lost both games, though the mens we probably could have won if our left fielder had caught a single ball. I can't play mens this week I think because I have to work on Thursday for some reason. Usually I work Monday Wednesday and Friday but this week they have me Thursday Friday and Saturday. That's lame.

I have a new friend in Australia. The time difference is so big (16.5 hours, I believe) that it makes me smile. I'm getting up and she's going to bed. I'm going to bed and she's starting her day. That's the kind of stuff I enjoy. I also enjoy when she uses Australian slang. Makes me smile.

I learned today that the reason I'm at the bottom of Sarai's "guys I would date" list is because I lack self confidence. She says "it just makes you so unattractive." Wow, that helps. Now I'm going to walk around with a swagger about me, knowing how goddamn unattractive I am. Ah personality and sense of humor, I thought you guys were going to treat me a lot better than you have. I'm not willing to act like an arrogant prick, so goodbye women. I'll try again in 5-10 years when maybe women will start looking for someone who will treat them like a person instead of a walking vagina with boobs. Or I'll just be alone forever. It's a lonely life, but a lot less complicated. Feh.

Some frat guy on a bike ran into me on my bike on the way home today. He was riding his bike and talking on a cell phone at the same time. I saw him coming from a mile away. I wanted to dodge, but couldn't. Now I am a little cut up and my finger may or may not be broken. I don't think it is, but I was scared there for a little bit. This proves a few theories. One, frat guys are stupid and have to pay for friends because of their stupidity, and they drink a lot, and they're stupid and can't make friends without paying for them. Two, using a vehicle and talking on a cell phone is a bad idea, especially if you're a socially inept frat guy who's stupid and has to pay for friends and act like you joined a frat to do community service, when we all know you did it to get drunk every night and sex up as many unsuspecting drunk girls as you can.

It's been a long time since I wrote anything here, mainly because nothing has happened. Sarai and I are not an item, I live in the apartment on Birch Street, I'm going to drop one of my classes and only be a part time student, and I enjoy my 20 hour work weeks at Officemax, but it's not enough hours. I live with Cam and Danny and they're both easy to get along with roommates. Now you know my life.

I am writing a new story that I think has promise. I'm hoping it'll be the big shebang in my honors thesis, but we'll see. So far it's like a page and a half in 10 font, single spaced, so I have no idea how long it really is. But it's good, I think. We'll see.

People in my honors seminar bug me. For no apparent reason they'll go "When I was in Italy last summer..." or "Growing up in Sumatra, I learned to speak fluent Swahili..." It's like these people spend every day thinking of ways they can try to make you feel inferior to them. Because they're smart. I have nothing to say though. I can be like "My written grammar is pretty good" or "I wrote a story one time..." but it's not the same. In summary, honors people should get over themselves.

I really don't have much to say. I just wanted to let people know that I got hit by some jerk on a bike.

No internet for me, Adam, until next Wednesday. Here's a new survey to keep you entertained.

1. What is your occupation? When I’m not busy being the Creator of All Things, I waste time at Officemax trying to sell people things they don’t need.

2. What color is your underwear? Today I have my usual leather g-string on, but sometimes, when I’m feeling frisky, I wear an elephant codpiece. You can imagine what fills out the trunk.

3. What are you listening to right now? A combination of my new fan that sounds like a low flying plane, and the water running as Brian takes a shower. You should be glad that I’m not in there with him.

4. What was the last thing you ate? I just had a salad with some delicious Ceasar oregano something dressing that Cam’s Leslie left here, and a frozen pizza that had been sitting in the freezer for an unhealthy amount of time.

5. Do you wish on stars? Only David Hasslehoff. He’s the only one who listens.

6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Why is there a white crayon? I mean, first of all, you’re usually coloring white paper, but even if you’re coloring black paper it hardly even shows up. So with that in mind, I’d probably be burnt sienna.

7. How is the weather right now? I can’t see outside because I refuse to open my blinds ever again. If you know me, you know why. If you don’t... you’re not reading this.

8. Last person you spoke to on the phone? I spoke to John’s answering machine, but that’s not a person, so... some lady who works for Fort Collins Utilities who helped me set up the electricity earlier today. No, unfortunately it was not “my hot new girlfriend.”

9. Do you like the person who sent this to you? No. I mean yeah, she’s reading this. So... yeah. She’s... good. (J/K LESLIE LOLOLOL!!!111!! roxorz)

10. How old are you today? The same age as I was yesterday, plus one day. And the same age as I’ll be every day until December 23 (send presents).

12. Favorite sport to watch? The fish olympics. Those fish can really ice skate if given the chance.

13. Have you ever dyed your hair? No, but I’ve watched Sarai have three different hair colors in the past two months, so I kind of feel like I have, vicariously, by proxy, etc.

14. Do you wear contacts or glasses? Yes. On lazy days I wear glasses. On less lazy days I wear contacts. Generally contacts show off my incredibly sexy eyes more, so I wear them more often. But alas, no one seems to give a flying fuck.

15. Pets? I’ll let you pet me if you play your cards right, but you better take me out to dinner first.

16. Favorite month? Despite the fact that Summer far outweighs winter in the greatness scale, my favorite month is probably December because it’s my birthday, Christmas, Hannukah, and there’s no school for half of it.

17. Favorite food? Piiiiiiizzzzzzzaaaaaaa. Meeeeexxxxxxxiiiiiiiccccccannnnnn. But I’m not a huge fan of Mexican pizza.

18. Last movie you watched? Madagascar, which was decent. But let me tell you about this movie Hotel. It was awful. Probably the worst movie I’ve ever seen. I have no idea what happened in it or why, and it blew. It made Vanilla Sky look like a movie that sucks a lot less than it actually does. Disclaimer: Vanilla Sky still, in fact, blows ass.

19. Favorite day of the year? Now this is getting a little ridiculous. I don’t know anyone who’s like “Man, you know, June 16th is consistently good to me each year, I really love that day.”

20. What do you do to vent anger? Murder small children. Ha ha, no, I’m just kidding. They don’t have to be that small.

21. What was your favorite toy as a child? I just remembered yesterday that I had this game where you’d play a tape on the VCR (look it up in your history books, kids), and look through this viewfinder thing and shoot at planes and stuff. It beeped if you hit them. The technology behind this still baffles me.

22. Fall or Spring? I’m going to have to go with Spring, if only because falling can be embarrassing and painful.

23. Hugs or kisses? Thanks for the painful reminder that I’m alone and have very little chance of receiving either. Jerk.

24. Cherry or Blueberry? God I love cherry pie. I mean, I really love it. I proposed to one one time, but then I just ate it.

25. Do you want your friends to email you back? Yes. In fact, my life depends on it. If I get no replies I may just end my own life. That’s how much I need my friends to email me back.

26. Who is most likely to respond? I’m going to go out on a limb here and say Brian, since he’s the only one who ever does. He’s also my only friend.

27. Who is least likely to respond? George W. Bush, because I’ve said some nasty things about him in the past.

28. Living arrangements? Cheap hotels and parking lots, sometimes airports or the backs of grocery stores where I can’t be found. Basically wherever I can sleep without being arrested.

29. When was the last time you cried? I can’t remember the specific time, but I bet you money it had something to do with girls. Damn that gender.

30. What is on the floor of your closet? Three bowling balls, a human skull, and the liver of the ancient cheetah god, Ramulah.

31. Who is the friend you have had the longest? Fishy the magical wonder hamster.

32. What did you do last night? Went to bed at like 6:30. It was pretty awesome, you should have been there.

33. Favorite smells? If I told you, you’d call me a freaky freak mcfreakerson, or something equally upsetting, like super weird freaky dude or dirty rotten freak weirdo freak man.

34. What inspires you? Seeing bad people get hurt. Does that make me a bad person?

35. What are you afraid of? I’m afraid of being alone for the rest of my life, afraid of the uncertainty that the future holds, afraid when I think of how insignificant my life is in the grand scheme of the universe. Nah, I’m just kidding, I’m really afraid of the holes in swiss cheese.

36. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? What’s a spicy hamburger? I dump a lot of spices in my hamburgers. But I also put cheese on them. Are the two mutually exclusive? What’s the meaning of life? Why not have a cheesy spicy hamburger? Can cows jump?

37. Favorite car? Horse drawn carriages are where it’s at, baby.

38. Favorite dog breed? Being as I am an expert in all things dog, I do believe the best is the schnauzerweilerpoodleterrieretriever. It’s... just a mix of all five of the dog types I know, it doesn’t really exist. I mean, look it up.

39. Number of keys on your key ring? I recently doubled my key total from 2 to 4, but soon I’ll be back to a paltry 3. Mailbox, car, apartment. I’m a really simple kind of guy like that.

40. How many years at your current address? Years? I haven’t lived for years in the same place in.... years. The current one as of today, about 2 months. If I answered this later today I’d be able to say about x hours. I move a lot. I guess that’s to be expected when you’re my age and your awesomeness scares people away.

41. Favorite day of the week? As NOFX says, “Monday is my favorite time of year.” It’s true if you don’t work, because you can do whatever you want and there’s nobody out. Except old people and parents with little screaming kids. Which almost makes you want to wait until the weekend to go do something before you realize then it’s middle aged grumpy people and stupid drunk ass college kids trying to get laid you have to deal with then. The moral of the story: never leave your house.

42. How many states have you lived in? Let’s see. I’ll put it into song form. “Iiiiiiiii was born in Texassssss, thennnnnn I lived in Geeeeee-oooooorrrr-giaaaaa. We moooooved to Coloraaaadoooooo. Then I kinda lived in Nevada for a moooooonth. Aaaaaaand thaaaaaatttttt’ssss iiiiiiiiiit!” It’ll be a top ten hit soon, don’t you worry.

So Hillary Clinton and crew have succeeded in getting Grend Theft Auto pulled from stores because there's a patch you can download in the PC version that lets you unlock a sex scene. And in the console version you can unlock it if you have whatever Game Genie type device exists these days. Anyway, the fact that our government got involved and pulled this game from stores and forced it to switch ratings from the M (17+) rating to an adults only rating, effectively making the game porn. Here's where I have a problem with this. R rated movies, which are marketed at the exact same audience as an M rated game are allowed to have much more graphic sex scenes than GTA (both people are fully clothed in GTA) and there are hundreds of movies that exist on store shelves like this. Yet somehow in a game sex is an offense worth banning the game for? Videogames aren't just a kids thing anymore, because all the kids who grew up on videogames are grown up now. We like games sometimes that don't feature cartoon characters jumping on each other. Maybe something a little more mature than that. Not that I'm saying I need sex in my videogames, but I don't see what the giant issue is here. If the argument is that children have access to the game, the same argument can be made about R rated movies - kids can get into them with an adult at theaters, or just watch them at home after their parents buy or rent them. Plus, little kids who shouldn't be seeing the videogame sex probably wouldn't know how to download the patch and install it, or use the Game Genie to input the correct codes. Yet I like how this is what the big deal is, and not the fact that you can have sex with a hooker in your car (but you can't see it), pay her, hop out and kill her and take your money back. Or the fact that it realistically portrays gang violence, killing innocent people, etc. For the record, I have no problem with that either, it just goes to show how prudish we still are about sex. You know, sex is what keeps the human race from going extinct, yet we treat it like it's some kind of disease to be avoided at all costs. So there goes my vote for Hillary Clinton in '08 if she decides to run. Dumb bitch. I have a serious problem with censorship.

Officemax has been pretty boring so far, just sitting in the break room listening to policies and whatnot. Tomorrow I think I'm actually going to do some work, so that's exciting, I guess. What's not exciting is that I have to go in at 7am for a meeting, then come back at 3 to work until close. But whatever. What else would I be doing? All the people I've met that I'm going to work with seem cool, and all the girls who work there are hot, so I can't complain about anything in the HR department as of yet. The bosses seem a little strange, but overall it seems like a nice place to work. We'll see. It'll really be the customers that make or break this job, and if my previous experience with customers is any indication, I'll be wanting to kill someone by next week. Speaking of next week, Brian comes to visit on the 26th. Fun times are sure to ensue. Probably not fun times as in getting drunk and laid every night, but more like fun times like playing videogames and generally being huge nerds. Cause I'd by lying to you if I said we weren't huge nerds.

I got two new books yesterday. Vurt by Jeff Noon, which I read half way when I was waiting for Leslie to get her nails done. It's a really cool scifi type book about these drugs that are contained in feathers that put you in like another world, kind of like virtual reality but a different dimension. The main character lost his sister in one of the particularly bad feathers and got this alien in exchange, and he's trying to find this super rare feather so he can go in and trade the alien back for his sister. Sounds weird, and it is, but it's really good. Then I got Americana by Don DeLillo because I liked White Noise by him last summer, I think I'm taking a class on him next semester, and the back of the book made it sound interesting. Guy gives up his cushy life to travel across the country with a videocamera. Sounds like my kind of book.

I went driving up inthe mountains alone yesterday and it was pretty awesome. I took along a lot of good punk rock driving music: Cadillac Blindside, Lawrence Arms, Descendents, Against Me!, and Less than Jake. Sung at the top of my lungs until my throat hurt, drove way too fast around sharp corners, and generally enjoyed being the only car on the road. I was going to drive over some pass, but the road got too shady for me, all bumpy and stuff, and I didn't want to damage my car so I turned around. Kind of lost momentum after that, but whatever. If I get bored enough again I might do it today and just keep going but not take that pass and see if I can ever make it to a town. There are lots of houses up there, big expensive ones, and ranches, but no towns. No gas stations, no grocery stores. I don't know where these people get their stuff unless they just eat what they raise. A 45 minute drive into Fort Collins for gas seems a little ridiculous though. Ah, well, it cleared my mind for a while and wasted a couple hours of my time, and that's all I needed it to do.

It's hot hot hot here. Like around 100 degrees every day. Yeah. I don't have anything to say about that, just felt like pointing it out.

As far as Sarai goes, it's hard to talk about here because she reads this every now and again, but I have no idea what's going on there. I'm thick and clueless to begin with so that doesn't help any. I guess we're just going to see what happens when she gets back, but I have no idea if she's interested in dating or just friendship or what. I guess that mystery will reveal itself in time, but as for now, count me clueless. Her parents made her get rid of her pink hair though, and that's really disappointing, though the red-brown color it is now is still pretty cool. Just not pink.

Leslie and I are talking more now than we were for a while, and that's nice. I think she's coming to visit on Sunday assuming I have the evening free and nothing comes up on her end. That should be fun. I haven't seen her in months now. So that'll be nice.

And I guess that's it. It's been pretty slow, this update was kind of forced, but whatever. Enjoy your summer, I hope it's cooler there than it is here.

Hello everyone. It’s Friday, and, in conjunction with this joyous time, I present to you the latest installment in my musical journey through hell. I’m hoping that the extreme euphoria you possess knowing that the weekend is here will influence your judgment of the new song. Just to bring you up to speed: We’ve now traveled through the inner-workings of hell itself and are now surfacing, which means that the pain and scaring memories associated with the past songs can now dissolve, as you’ve left that world. Or something deep and dramatic like that. The point is, Adam heard this new song early since he’s just cool like that and he gives it his seal of approval. I’m not quite sure how much that equates to, but it’s something, so I’ll take it. Let’s jump right in.

Once again, this whole sentence is your portal to the outer world where you can abandon all those preconceived notions of the poor quality of songwriting you’ve witnessed heretofore. On a side note, I believe that’s the first (and most likely last) time I’ve ever used the word "heretofore." Since I liked the format last week, we’ll go lyrics and then ramblings.

Call from a Pay Phone
Under pearl gray skies, through dead wood brown eyes, I dial the seven digits tagged for you just to hear your voice trickle through the line and enter the recesses of my mind to stimulate the image of you smiling there with the moon sparkling your hair. To say I was unprepared to say "goodbye for now" would be a gross understatement. That night when you whispered, "I wish I was beautiful," I said, "were" both to be grammatically correct and to remind you that, at least in the present, your wish has been paid in full. But, if you want, let’s go back to those days when we were eighteen and feared the future. Let’s play make-believe and wash those doubts away with the same bar of soap we’ll use to rinse our filthy mouths from damning these days, damning these ways, damning these people, damning life for being so damn literal. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned, it’s that home is not a place, but a foundation where I lie my head on your chest and watch the world rise and fall.

What you just read, that last line, that’s pretty much the best thing I’ve ever written. So just think: it’s all downhill from here! The remarkable thing about this song is that it’s actually inspired by a dream I had. Okay, that didn’t sound so remarkable since lots of artists get inspired by dreams, but it’s special for me since I rarely remember my dreams. But one time last summer I had a dream where I put my head on this girl’s chest and watched the world rise and fall with the rhythm of her breathing. Since I was/am new to the whole remembering details from dreams, the face and name escapes me, but whoever you are, thanks! It might not even be a real person, for all I know. Regardless, I set out to write a happy song and a happy song this is. Also, unlike most of my other songs, this went through one or two drafts. Generally I just sit down and churn out a song and tweak certain elements, but this went through a couple re-writes. I’m really happy with the results, and I hope you are, too. Also, for the first time ever in the history of music, a song has featured a grammar joke. That one’s going out to all you grammar nuts out there. Now stop harassing me about how "lie" should be "lay" in the last line. Other nitpickers would mention that, this being a long distance call from a pay phone, you’d have to actually type in eleven numbers (1 + area code + 7 digits). To these people I say: shut up, Brian, you’re giving yourself away.

In other music news, look for a magazine called The Believer at your local bookstore. It’ll be under the literature section, most likely. The June/July issue includes a free cd with all sorts of nifty independent artists covering other spiffy independent artists. Definitely worth checking out, in my opinion. Also (well, not really "also" since this is something entirely different), I think something weird is going on with the comments to our entries. I question this not because I didn’t get 8000 screaming fans commenting on my last song (in anger), but because that post Adam had with his run-in with the police is hilarious and people definitely should’ve left notes of encouragement for when he’ll be put on trial for being a sex offender. So if that’s the case, then let us know so we can maybe get help to fix it. Otherwise, keep up the good job of commenting only on the classy stuff. With that kind of mentality we’ll probably never get a comment again. But hey, it’s Friday! Enjoy the weekend! Speak as if all of your sentences ended in exclamation points and irritate the people around you!

New story time. I wrote this one when I woke up this morning. It's like 4 pages long, so... yeah. Not real long, but not as short as The Heartbeat. And... yeah. No title yet, so I'm open to suggestions. Enjoy.

Looking calmly around his room, Jeff realized how little he’d miss. He’d brought with him what he thought he’d need to get him through this week, but now with so little time left he realized it was all superfluous. The pictures that only hours ago rested on his dresser now lay broken face down on the floor, and he made no attempt to rectify their situation. He simply walked into the closet and grabbed the nicest pair of clothes he’d brought. These had been meant to be for ballroom dancing, but there would be no dances tonight and he wore them anyway, since tonight would be the last night and they hadn’t been worn yet. Plus, he thought, if you’re going to go out, go out in style. He wondered if he still had time for a short nap, as all the excitement of late had tired him out some. Deciding that it didn’t really matter, he was going to take one either way, he laid down on the bed and closed his eyes.
He had a dream that the world was burning. The entire thing, red and orange and beautiful like a sun. A flaming ball hurtling through the air, the immense speed not even enough to put out the flames. Seen from space the sight would have brought a tear to the eye of even the most hardened viewer. Amid the vast blackness, one bright shining ball, a reminder that even in the darkest blackness there is a ball of light, of hope. And all the while, down on the earth itself, all living things run around screaming and burning, or suffocating because of the lack of oxygen. No one on Earth would have called the planet beautiful, but anyone floating above it would take as many pictures as they could of the most amazing thing they’d ever seen.
A loud noise, and Jeff awoke. Not with a start – he’d been getting more and more used to loud noises recently – but calmly, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He wondered where his wife was briefly, then decided it didn’t really matter. He would either be seeing her again soon, or he would never see her again, and in truth, either option would suit Jeff just fine. Suddenly a pang of guilt shot through him as he thought about their two children, and he picked up the pictures from the ground and placed them back on the dresser. They had stayed at home with their grandparents. Thank God for that, Jeff found himself thinking. With considerable difficulty he got out of bed and trudged upwards to the bathroom.
You look like shit, he thought to himself. Too much to drink last night. Tonight. Whenever that was. Time on a trip like this tends to get distorted. Time always gets distorted on vacation, but on one such as this, things can really get messed up. He stared at his bloodshot eyes and realized he was not as calm as he’d thought, and this worried him. He began to shake, put his head down in his hands and cried. When he’d done enough, he dried his eyes and resolved to go find his wife, just in case he’d never see her again. The view out the window told him he didn’t have a ton of time left. She’d need comforting, he told himself, and if a husband can’t comfort his wife in a time of need, what good is he at all?
He got dressed in his nicest clothes, the ones he’d laid out before his nap, and he combed his hair. He thought about trying to get the red out of his eyes, and he thought about shaving, but he decided the effort wouldn’t be worth it. It’d just mean more lost time, time he fully expected to spend enjoying the view with his wife. Looking marginally better than before, he walked out onto the deck to search for his wife.
Immediately screams filled the air and people could be seen running to and fro. Jeff resolved not to let any of this faze him, and he looked around to find anyone else who was taking things calmly. He found no one, which meant his wife was not in his immediate vicinity. She was a strong woman, Liza, and she would be somewhere sitting calmly reading a magazine or playing a game of some type. This he was sure of, so he walked down through the crowd, blocking out the movement and the noise and searching for the one person staying still. He couldn’t help but feeling like he had a book held in front of him, trying to find Waldo. The only difference... well, there were many differences, but the main one was this was timed, and it meant something.
Sure, Jeff and Liza had had a spat when they’d heard what was going on. Liza thought they should call home and say bye to their children while Jeff thought the kids would be better off not knowing what had happened to them until they were older. Liza kept trying to pick up the phone and Jeff kept ripping it from her hands, slamming it down. Eventually Jeff got upset with Liza and ripped the phone cord from the wall. Liza thought about saying something about destroying other people’s property, but realized how little that mattered, and stamped off in a huff to go find someone else’s phone. She hadn’t returned to the room. Jeff spent a few minutes being angry, calmed himself, grabbed his nice clothes out of the closet, took a nap, and here he was, searching for her.
Suddenly it occurred to him that she would probably be down by the pool relaxing. No one in their right mind would be by water at a time like this, which meant she was definitely there. He walked across the plaza to the pool and found her in her bra and underwear reading a magazine on a lawn chair. He sat down next to her.
“Nice bathing suit,” he said.
“I knew you’d like it,” she smirked back, and pulled him down to kiss her.
“Where’d you get the magazine?”
“It fell out of some businessman’s suitcase when he ran by here,” she said, holding up this month’s copy of Playboy. “You know, the articles in here are actually pretty interesting."
“See? That’s what I always said. But you said nobody reads the articles.”
“Yeah, well I’ve been wrong once or twice. The naked women kind of throw me off, though. Nobody looks like that.”
“Thank the gods of the airbrush, eh?”
“And don’t forget the plastic surgeons.”
“Yeah... Sorry about that fight earlier.”
“I’d be more forgiving if you weren’t staring at my breasts.”
“You are in your bra, you know. What do you say, one last go at it?”
“Right here? In public? Now?”
“Why not?” Jeff pleaded.
“I can think of a million reasons why not,” Liza said, standing up, throwing the magazine in the pool, and putting on her evening dress. “I see you dressed up for the occasion.”
“And so did you. Walk with me?”
They walked slowly and deliberately so as to not lose their footing. By now the area was clearing out, though there were still plenty of people running around yelling, trying to find loved ones or save anyone who walked by. Soft music still came fluttering out of the ballroom and Jeff asked Liza to dance. They stopped where they were outside and began swaying, holding each other closer and closer with each passing second. Jeff kissed Liza on the forehead and told her he loved her, and she turned her face away, trying not to shed a tear and failing. She slumped in his arms and he held her tighter, determined not to let her fall to the ground and risk getting trampled, but more trying not to let her slip away from him now. Not this close to the end. He ran his hands through her hair and told her everything would be okay soon.
“How can you say that?” she asked in disbelief.
“Well, there’s nothing we can really do now. Might as well enjoy it. This is something not everyone gets to go through.”
“GETS to?” she asked incredulously, and punched his chest playfully. “Gets to,” she repeated again, softly, to herself. She closed her eyes and felt the cool, calming breeze dry the tears on her face. When she opened them again, Jeff was staring into them.
“Let’s go up to the top,” he said, and they began what was becoming a steep ascent to the peak.
The stars were beautiful from out here. They flickered with light sent long ago. “You know,” said Jeff, “Everyone on those planets is dead now. Take comfort in that.”
“Those are stars,” said Liza, “and that’s not comforting anyway.”
“It is beautiful, though,” she added moments later. The sky was a dark blue, which meant the sun would be coming up on the world soon. Another day, their children at their grandparents’ playing in the yard. Another day, their children growing up, getting married, having children of their own. Another day, the world still turning, not on fire but burning with life and hope and passion. Another day, and so on.
“We’re going to miss so much,” Liza said, and looked wistfully at her husband who was staring quietly up at the sky, trying to take in the majesty of the universe one last time. He didn’t hear her, he was wrapped up in his own thoughts.
“I’d say,” he said after a few moments of an undetermined amount of time, “that if we make it to see the sunrise, we should consider that a victory, and be happy.”
“I’m trying to be happy. I’m trying but it’s not... I’ve never been in this situation before.”
“They say,” said Jeff, “That people who drown and are then brought back to life describe an amazing euphoria. Same of people whose hearts stop and then start again. This amazing pleasure, unlike anything they ever experienced in life. This feeling that, no matter what happens to them, everything will be okay in the end. They don’t fear death anymore after that. That’s comforting. To me, anyway. You know me, I don’t believe in an afterlife or anything like that, though times like these make me hope there is one. I still feel like I could do some more living. I don’t feel like I’m ready to stop. But then, I also know that if this is really going to be it, I’m going to feel better than I’ve ever felt before soon. That’s enough for me. Tomorrow will be another day. Our children will be cared for. Your parents are lovely people and they’ll raise our kids right. We’ve done everything we could to make sure they have what they need growing up. Insurance will pay for their schooling. The world keeps turning, Liza. We’re just two people on it. Everything will be okay in the end.”
Jeff had been staring at the horizon, and as he’d been speaking the tip of the sun had peeked over, bathing the sky in flames. The stars began to fade from view. The sky was pink in spots, orange in others, bright yellow in others. It was as if God himself had come down for this last moment on Earth and painted the most beautiful sky he’d ever painted. Both Jeff and Liza sat transfixed, Liza wiping away the tears that had flown during Jeff’s speech.
“God,” she said, “I never noticed how beautiful life is until now. That’s such a shame. I wish I would have done more.”
“You did all you could,” Jeff said, not wanting to look down, but finding himself curious as to how much time they had left. He looked, and it turned out not much. Liza felt the water touch her toes. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Don’t look down,” Jeff said, knowing soon the ship would be pulled beneath the water, and them with it. They were now the only people left on board. The others had already drowned or had sailed off into the open sea in a lifeboat. “I love you, Liza,” Jeff managed to croak out through a clenched throat, and his face exploded with tears.
Liza simply turned to him and pulled his face into hers. They stood there in embrace until the ship gave completely beneath them and they felt themselves rocketing beneath the water. In her last breath, Liza yelled “I’ll see you soon,” and Jeff hoped beyond all hope that she was right.
The sun continued to rise. The water rippled violently for a moment before calming into a gentle waving pattern again. Children played in yards that day, grandparents got news that a ship had gone down, tears were shed, and another day sunk into the darkness of time.

Greetings. "So Brian, where's that song of the week thing you promised us?" is probably a question that's eluded most of you. Well, all I can say is that I was at home and did not have the incredibly high tech equipment (a computer program and a simple 2 input break-out box) required to record these ditties. So I apologize if I've lost the trust of everyone ever because I spouted empty promises like that. I'll try harder next time.

Let's get right to the tortu- fun, shall we? I will make this whole sentence a link, just so you don't have to strain too hard to find a link embedded in a tiny four letter word. Again, right clicking and Save As seems to work best, as I tried doing the normal left click thing and it said something dumb like "you can't download this," which is a complete lie since you can download it. Whatever. But I'm not good at tech support, so if you continue to have trouble and you really, really, really want to hear the song (you should probably consider it a good omen that it denies you access), then shoot me an IM and we can do a file transfer thing. The reason I don't do that normally is because it'd just take up too much of my day if I did that for the throngs of people who have shown interest. Or, you know, five minutes. So thanks to all you lovely people who braved the first song! You gave me just enough confidence to shatter your faith in me with this new one! I'm gonna switch things up and give you lyrics first, then commentary.

All These Christmas Carols Sound the Same
I’m st-st-st-st-stuttering on my words. It’s either fear or the cold, I’m not sure. I’m falling in love with eyes closer than they appear. I’m erasing this past year from memory. How hard could it be? And the fallen snow, from a bird’s eye view, presents these city streets in threads of white lacing up the best of you and me (a gift left under an abandoned Christmas tree wilting on New Year’s Eve). Months from now, when these memories melt and flood out onto the streets like the guts of traffic lights reflected on rain stained streets, I’ll have shelved away all those times that felt so right and catalogued your soft breathing on those summer nights. But for now, “Season’s Greetings!” is what I lack. Whoever said this is the most wonderful time of the year needs to take it back.

I have lots to say about this one, which is weird since it's so short. First, the title. I just came up with the title today. I've had this one written for almost a year and never found a good title for it, but I like the one it has now. So if you have suggestions for names, feel free to let me know. I'm trying to stay away from the obvious ones like "Piece of Shit Song #2,"but at least that sets the bar low! Anyway, the title alludes to my original intention with this song, which was to write something about how annoying the same 12 christmas carols are. But that idea got ditched and only shows up in the last two lines. How this song got started: Last summer, I delivered pizzas for Papa John's. It was a cool job. But, even after those countless hours on the road, I never got comfortable looking at the people in the cars around me, so I'd always steal glances in side mirrors or rear view mirrors. Hence the line, "I'm falling in love with eyes closer than they appear." But it also works in the sense that there's this distance between the two people. Cool, huh? So I wrote this song in the summer, even though it has a distinct winter feel to it. I like the "second verse," about the snow. It also has the most "emo" (in a bad way) line I've ever written, about the present under an abandoned Christmas tree. That part I'm okay with, actually, but the "wilting on New Year's Eve" element is just too much. But it was too good of a rhyme to pass up. Also, I want to point out that I'm not making fun of people who stutter. And you might notice I use the word "streets" twice. That's not supposed to be a bad rhyme, that's just me not knowing my own words. This is what happens when you sing without lyrics in front of you. The original line was "Months from now, when these memories melt and ooze out onto the roads like the guts of traffic lights reflected on rain stained streets..." So I replaced "ooze" with "flood" (what I consider a good move) and "roads" with "streets" (what we'll call a bad move). Oh well. And, even though the vocal track could probably be re-recorded to sound a bit better, I'm lazy. As for the guitar, I only use the three high strings, that's why it's a bit softer sounding. It also explains why the palm muting at the end doesn't quite sound as good. But hey, I'm not going for perfection here, just sub-par average. My songs are akin to Communism: they look good on paper, but don't quite execute as well as their potential. Hey, I like that! That needs to be added to the Disclaimer song...

Next week: a good song! For real! Thank you again for your patentience.

Fear not, I neither bring new stories nor an extremely long entry this time. Though I haven't written it yet, and with the way I love to ramble, time could prove me wrong. So it's now 8:05 am and I've been up for oh, 20-30 minutes. That's sad in many regards, the most sad being the fact that it's Saturday, and I do this about every Saturday. Usually by Sunday I can "sleep in" until 8:30 or so. Stupid getting up early for work making me get up early on my days off. Speaking of which, kind of, I might have a job at OfficeMax coming to me sometime next week which means I can get rid of this boring ass landscaping job. It has kept me pretty tan (read: too tan) and in pretty good physical shape (read: not that great but better than usual physical shape), but the actual work is just boring. I do enjoy getting paid 9 bucks an hour to drive around town all day as a matter of principle, but in reality, it's a lonely, solitary life, and apparently I've become less of a loner since high school. So OfficeMax would be cool. I could be the electronics specialist guy and then I'd be the envy of giant nerds everywhere.

Alright. So everyone's probably heard this already (though very few people who read this have probably heard this) but this was the big news last week. Here I was, naked in front of my computer at about 10 on Tuesday night. I was naked because it's hot in the middle of summer, and we don't use air conditioning. I was on the computer doing my rounds (reading comics, checking email, etc) before bed. Suddenly, after like 5 minutes of this, I look over at my window and realize the blinds are open, meaning any soul unlucky enough to walk by can see me. So I go something like "Oh shit" and I go close my window. No harm no foul, though I do remember thinking "man, I hope nobody saw me." So I go to bed at about 10:15, which I remember noticing because that's a little earlier than I usually go to bed, and I was looking forward to a long, wonderful night of sleep.
Come 11, a faint knock is heard on the door. Apparently this knock had been occurring for a while, because Cam told me, and because the police officer knocking looked a little upset when I peeked out, and he said "Open the door." I threw on some shorts and went out into the apartment to open the door. Cam walked out of his room at the same time, and together we faced the officer. He looks at us funny and goes "Do you guys live here together?" What we should have said was something like "Yes, and you're interrupting our nightly anal sex session," but what we said was just kind of a surprised "Yeah." So he goes "Who was on the computer earlier?" What we should have said was something like "I don't know, every single person in this country?" or "We're going to need a time frame on that one, buddy." But instead we just sputtered out a couple things like "Both of us" and "We connect through the same router" (which was an especially stupid thing to say and which I claim full responsiblity for). So he goes "Who was on the computer 15 minutes ago?" Nobody was on the computer 15 minutes previously, because we'd both been in bed for at least 45 minutes. But since Cam's girlfriend was over and they went in their room before me, probably not to use the computer, I volunteered that I was probably the most recent computer user.
The officer tells Cam to go to bed, and while Cam says he wanted to just hang out and see what's going on with this guy who never introduced himself, never identified himself as a policeman (other than his costume), and just walked right on into our apartment without being invited, he was scared like me so he went back to bed. The officer looks at me at says "You know what this is about, don't you." Since I had previously thought to myself "Man, I hope nobody saw me naked at the computer" earlier, I said yeah, though I was confused as to why the police were here. To the best of my knowledge, it's not illegal to use a computer while naked in the state of Colorado, but who knows, with conservative Christians (I mean, Republicans, like there's a difference) in control of this country. So he talks to me for a little while about how it shouldn't happen again, and I assure him that I'll keep my blinds closed forevermore, and he fucking calls my ID into the dispatcher like I'm some kind of criminal. What I really enjoyed about this guy was how he was treating me like I was standing in front of my window masturbating, slaughtering a chicken over a picture of Christ on the cross, and molesting young children. He seriously talked to me like I'm some kind of sex offender, when in reality if you know me, you've probably never even seen me without my shirt on, unless you've lived with me for a month or two, in which case I might have accidentally stumbled out topless one time.
With the police officer gone without an apology for waking us up at 11, keeping me up until 11:30 on a work night, I went back to bed, but could not fall asleep because of my intense anger and fear. Mostly anger at this point. Anger that someone would look in my room, which was completely dark, except for the light of the monitor, study the vague blog long enough to realize it was a naked guy, and get so offended that she would call the police. I say "she" because we've discussed this, and there is no guy in existence who would call the police upon seing someone naked, male or female. If female, he'd probably call his friends. If male, he'd go "Oops" and keep on walking. We've also decided this woman is a conservative, she's Christian, she's in her 50's, and she's a gigantic walking cunt, which you'd think you'd be able to see from a pretty good distance, but I've yet to find out who she is. If I do find out who she is, Cam and I are going to do something to her, though we haven't figured out what yet.
These are the morals from this ordeal:
1. I hate the police with a passion, and each time I have to interact with one, I hate them more. I think traffic cops are basically the scum of the earth, and if they all caught a horrible disease where their eyes rot out of their skulls and their brains leak out through their eye sockets in a hideously painful manner, the world would be a better place. Traffic cops, however, are angels in comparison to cops who show up at a dark, quiet apartment at night and wake them up for no reason. I can't even bring myself to write what should happen to those cops.
2. If I'm a sex offender in the police system now, I am single handedly going to tear this government down, or die trying. I'm not big on anarchy, but I'm also not big on a repressive dictatorship in which I can't even be naked in my own apartment, in my own bedroom, in the middle of the night.
3. I have, once again, lost all faith in the segment of "humanity" that calls the police on something like this. I don't mean all Christians, or, necessarily, all conservatives when I say this. I just mean the ones who want to make everyone else a conservative Christian. God damn, I hate republicans.
4. I just think I should repeat this: Cops are fucking scum. One time John's car died after a Lagwagon concert, and the police wouldn't give us a jump. They said they'd call us a tow truck. Fucking prick asshole dicks.

Moving on, I saw the Lawrence Arms last week by myself in Denver, and after freaking out about parking and scrounging through the loose change in my car to find a total of exactly three bucks, I got into Rock Island, which is a bizarre little goth club that is sometimes used for punk shows. I kept the tradition alive of getting a drinking wristand and not getting anything to drink. Cam and I do this because of all the times we couldn't get into shows or had to pay extra because we weren't 21. Take that, The Man. Anyway, Enemy You opened, and I've been a fan of theirs since I heard their awesome song on the Short Music comp, which they played, to my delight. They played a solid set of pop punk that I enjoyed way more than anyone else there. Next was Smoke or Fire, who played a really really good show. Their CD is pretty good, but their live show is very very energetic and tight, and I'd recommend seeing them. This was the second time I saw them, the first being opening for Against Me! in Houston. They were better this time. Third was the way awesome A Wilhelm Scream. They played all three songs I knew by them, and a lot more, and they're a riot to watch. Five guys jumping around, playing really loud, hard punk rock. Way good. If I hadn't been poor I would have bought a CD of theirs. They had a big fan base and lots of people were singing along and such. Then the Lawrence Arms came out and played the best show I have ever seen then play (seen them 3 times now). They played a wonderful setlist that included my two favorite b-sides, a couple more songs than usual off their first album, all of my favorite songs off Ghost Stories (including Minute, which is awesome, and, to my extreme surprise and happiness, Me and Martha Plimpton in an Elevator. I screamed like a little girl when I realized they were playing that. Then the usual excellent smattering of stuff from their newest two albums and the splits. My only fault was that they didn't play Quincentuple Your Money, the song that got me into them. Bren was entertaining as always, played a bass-only version of Every Rose Has its Thorn when Chris' guitar broke, and generally it was awesome. Best show I've seen in a long time.

I have on my list of things to write about Sarai. I don't know what I was going to write about her, except her name is spelled strangely for it being pronounced Sarah. I've been talking to her for hours and hours every day recently, and I really enjoy it. There are two problems right now, in my eyes. One, she's home in Maryland until August. Two, she has a boyfriend, though all signs point to that relationship not lasting. Ugh. She's way awesome though, and we're hanging out when she gets back, I think. Unless she solves her problems with her boyfriend and they start living together again. Which would be terribly disappointing for me, but then, terribly disappointing is a good adjective clause to describe how my relationships with women usually go, so it wouldn't be too suprising.

No Use for a Name is all I'm listening to lately, but not the new album, but Leche con Carne and Making Friends. They used to be a hell of a band. The new album is good but those albums are better. I finally like Leche con Carne, I always thought it kind of sucked. Now I like about every song on there. Also, I got the Lawrence Arms b-sides album for 5 bucks after trading in the splits and a couple other pieces of trash I had laying around, and I'm wearing it out, even though there are only like 4 songs I hadn't heard before.

Hokey dokey folks, Brian's been at home all week so I haven't been able to play pinochle. And he hasn't been able to put up a song. But I assume he's still planning on doing that. Real quick, comments for certain articles go at the top, as exemplified by Karo, the smartest girl I know, and at the end of each article is the author's name. Not that I don't like hearing my song is real good, but I haven't written any songs. Alright, check ya later.