I just got done reading The Heart of the Matter by Graham Greene for my American Lit class. Now, usually I'll read a book for class and be like "well that kind of sucked" and then go on a rant about how just because something's old doesn't mean it's a classic. But that book is seriously one of the best books I've ever read. It's slow in parts but the ending is incredibly powerful, and probably the best look at suicide that I've ever seen. It's not gory, but it's incredibly passionate. Really goes through what a suicidal person must feel before he does the deed. Beyond that scene and the preceding scenes of a man's complete and utter mental breakdown, it's an incredible look at faith, in this case the Catholic faith. Not my favorite group on the whole, as some of you know. But this book painted them in such a human light that even I was touched. At the end the wife and the priest are talking, and it goes like this:
"It's no good even praying..."
Father Rank clapped the cover of the diary to and said furiously "For goodness' sake, Mrs Scobie, don't imagine you - or I - know a thing about God's mercy."
"The church says..."
"I know the Church says. The Church knows all the rules. But it doesn't know what goes on in a single human heart."

I don't know if that means anything without reading the book, but I wholeheartedly recommend it. It's beautifully written and terribly powerful.

Other than that, school is going to kind of suck this semester. I can't remember spanish enough to take the class I'm in. And... poetry is full of poetry people. And if you're reading this, and you know any poetry people, you hate them. That's just how it is. Those people suxorz. They're pretentious little art fucks who think they're better than you because they know all these big words no one ever uses, and they think that all because
something is
written
like this
that it is something
special

Fuckers.

Anyway, my car's going back into the shop tomorrow. If I can get it to run long enough to get it home from the shop with no problems I'd look into selling it. If I could only ride a bike 65 miles an hour, I'd swear off cars forever. I'll hopefully be moving in with Danny this weekend. That'll be a load off my mind. I've been kind of beat down recently because of all this shit, but I'd like to give a shout out to Eric, who can't read this because he doesn't have his computer hooked up to the internet, for helping me out through this more than anyone else (except Leslie). He's calmed me down on more than one occasion, let me play Goldeneye with him, and gone to a concert with me. Yay Eric. And Yay Leslie. And even though it's his damn fault this living thing is going on, Yay Charlie. And Yay Danny for letting me move in with him. And Yay Cam for being Cam. And I think that's all the Yays I have for today.

I thought I was running out of clothes but then I realized Leslie just put my shirts on the other side of the closet. It was like striking gold, I don't have to do laundry for another week.

I think I'm going to sell a lot of my CDs soon. I have too many to even be close to fitting in my cases. But we'll see how that goes. Probably not well. I always scan for CDs I don't need anymore but then I always find one good song that makes me not want to sell the CDs. But I know I have some I'll never listen to again. So if the car starts working I'll do that.

Armchair Martian was really good the other night. Chad didn't play bass for them, it was some goofy tall guy who sung like four songs. Three unreleased songs, I think, and the other one was 17 Years. So maybe they're getting back together? That'd be cool. Though I'm not a big fan of that new singer of theirs, and Jon didn't have any new songs. But whatever. They need to put out a new album, that's all I'm saying. Until nextime.

Hey. I just got back from Florida. The past couple weeks have been busy. Leslie was here. Brian was here. I was in Florida. Leslie and I hung out. Brian and I hung out and made a movie. I went to Busch Gardens and the beach in Florida. Today on the way home we discovered that overnight an entire colony of ants moved into our car. I hate bugs. We spent like 9 hours squashing ants because they kept crawling on us. If they had the sense to stay in the damn trunk and not get on us they would have survived the trip. But now the car is full of dead ants. There was also a huge fly in the car. Dad poked at it with a book to get it to fly out. It was like two inches long and fat. It just looked at the book and was like "Bitch, I ain't moving." So he pushed it behind the back seat. It came and terrorized us later on the road. Dad squished it and it was gross. Now my book has goobers all over it. I did however finish my latest book "Running With Scissors." It was good. Very entertaining. I really could have done without the graphic depictions of gay sex, but that's really not a slam on gays, it's more the fact that I could really always do without graphic depictions of any sex. But it was incredibly engrossing, that guy had a messed up childhood.

You'd think after so long I'd have something to say. You'd be wrong.

To the guy who signed our last post, you signed Brian's post. He is from Virginia. I, however, am from Fort Collins. I don't work at Papa John's, I work at Subway on the CSU campus. It was an honest mistake and I got the message anyway. You're not the first to be confused by our weird two author deal here. So yeah. Hey man. What up.

My grandparents in Florida are weird. Last night after we got back from Busch Gardens Grandpa Murray had printed out a list of 13 principles to lead an effective life and handed one out to each of us, including my dad. He then went over each item in detail. It was like being in school. In fact, all the time we spent with them was like being in school. It's not like meeting with family, it's like taking an oral test. I am apparently a failure because A)I'm an english major which is equivalent to throwing thousands of dollars and four years of your life away and B)I haven't planned what I want to do after school. I apologize to everyone for my lack of direction, I never realized how offensive my behavior was. I'd shape up but I'm too damn stupid.

If you're reading this and you know me, you're invited to come down to a barbecue in Greeley on August 14th. My girlfriend and some of her friends got the idea to throw me a welcome home BBQ. So if she gets to have friends over, so do I. So email me if you want to come, or leave a comment or something. I'll mull over the list of people and invite only the best and brightest.

I haven't slept well in days. I keep waking up at six and not being able to fall back to sleep. Therefore I am either very fun or really boring to talk to, since I don't know what the hell is going on. Like right now, I'm not sure what I'm typing. I think this may have something to do with the fact that my girlfriend is in Seattle with many male friends of hers. I'm insecure as Charlie knows because I feel I have very little to offer in the way of... anything, really. So that could be why I'm not sleeping. Another reason may be the constant fear I live in because of all the terrorist threats.

Timesplitters 2 is cool. Hey, Charlie's having a rough time it sounds like. Comfort him because he doesn't deserve to be unhappy.

Blah blah blah. I think I'm dying. Wait no, still just tired. I have a short story I'm technically working on. You can read it if you're nice. Send gifts. Later.

PS- I ain't proofreading this, so if you want to bitch about my typos, kiss my black ass.

Well, how-dee everyone. Where the hell have I been? Working, I tell you. Working! Working so much that my time at Papa John's is starting to infect my dreams. For instance, this one dream I had went like this: I was working with this other guy, Steve, and we were taking pizzas off the oven. He accidentally drops a pizza on the ground and says, "Man, I feel like such a motard." I laughed for about 20 minutes (or so it felt in my dream). And, when I woke up, I still found myself laughing when I'd say "motard." Now, I don't approve of this popular vernacular that uses "gay" or "homo" to mean something stupid, nor do I think it's right to call something "retarded." But you've gotta admit, when you combine the two together, that's funny stuff right there.

Speaking of delivering pizzas, I've got the driver's tan on my left arm and the delivery man's bicep on my right arm. I think we all know the driver's tan that, when you take your shirt off, makes half your left arm look like it's burnt toast, but I think I'm the first to coin the (soon to be popular) phrase "delivery man's bicep." If you're looking for a great workout (for your arms), you can do the following exercise daily: When delivering a pizza, place 2-3 two liter sodas in a plastic bag. Once having a secure grasp on the bag, balance 3-7 pizzas on the palm of your hand. The trip from your car to the front door is enough to ensure a noticeably larger bicep on whichever hand you use to hold the sodas and pizzas. Bottom line: me with my shirt off (while normally a detesting image) is now just weird.

And how many times has this happened to you? You order a pizza but, oh no! How much are you going to tip the driver??? This question has plagued customers for all too long. Well, maybe not all customers, namely the ones that expect me to carry exact change around with me. But, to put all your woes to rest, I have devised:
BRIAN'S 2 DOLLAR TIP SYSTEM
1. Place your order
2. Note the time you have finished placing your order
3. Start with a bank of $10
4. For every 10 minutes that pass from your order time, remove a maximum of $2 from your bank
5. When the driver gets there, you will have your tip
Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Brian, you are insane!" But no, not really. Cause see, here's the thing. On slow days, I really take pride in the fact that I can get pizzas to people a mere 15 minutes after they order. That's amazing. How many people can say they've had super amazing service like that? Not many. So I expect to get tipped well for my super amazing service. But what are the chances of that happening? Not very good. Usually it takes more like 35-45 minutes. In which case the tip will be $2-$4 dollars. And that's quite an acceptable tip.

Shit. My job is consuming everything. This whole entry has been about work related stuff. That's sad. I really need to move on to something else.

So I was delivering pizzas the other day, and I was surrounded by idiots. Don't believe me? You soon will. I was waiting at this red light, and the person in front of my had a "W - '04" bumper sticker. Now, I don't wish this guy who's driving his over-compensating-for-something truck harm, but let's say I wouldn't really worry if his car were to tumble several times and exlpode. Yet, if I see someone with a John Kerry bumper sticker I just hope that they survive until the election. Funny how that works. Anyway, so that's the dingleberry in front of me. The guy to my left has a bumper sticker of Texas. Now, Texas might be really nice. But since my archetype of Texas is pretty much good 'ol George W, all I could muster was a surly exhale of breath upon spotting the sticker. But the guy behind me takes the cake. This guy should just be removed from human society forever. Him and Donny Osmand should be the first two humans to set foot on the sun. So what was so wrong with this guy? He's driving a P.T. Cruiser (strike 1) that's either been lowered or appears to be lowered because of its ridiculous looking bumper (strike 2) and is smoking (strike 3). You're out, man. Begone.

Ok. For real, I'm moving on to something non-work related.

I got some CDs from Suburban Home Records the other day. A really cool label, and they've got good stuff. No, no one from Suburban Home is gonna read this and send me free stuff, but hey, I figure it doesn't hurt. The Gamits' Antidote and Laymens Terms' 3 Weeks In are worth picking up. I wonder if anyone actually listens to our music suggestions on this thing. I'm guessing not. But whatever, that's not gonna stop us from doing it anyway.

Races to April. Their CD hits stores August 3rd, but you should preorder it if you know what's good for you. That CD will rock like nothing else. At least, it better, after all this hype I've been throwing around.

All right, that's enough for now. I'll be heading down to Georgia in a couple of days, so I won't be around to update this thing. So it'll be just like I'm home and working all the time instead. Maybe Adam and I will make a crappy home video this summer. Actually, no maybe there. The maybe was supposed to go here: Maybe you'll see it sometime, if you're lucky. And the lucky wasn't supposed to go there. The lucky was supposed to go here: Maybe you won't be subjected to it, if you're lucky. There, that looks right.

Hot damn, it's time for another fun Bush Administration Terrorist Threat! It's been too long, folks. I was wondering what to do with myself, not being especially on the lookout for Middle Easterners to shoot with my legally obtained and owned firearm. Self defense, motherfucker! Those towel head bastards threaten our country, our freedom, our family values, I should be allowed to shoot them. God bless the Red White and Blue, right? Anyway, yeah, as scheduled the current administration has decided to let us know about another terror threat. This time they're targeting the elections in November. So until then, everyone, keep an eye out. Freedom! Has anyone noticed how any time there's a group of more than 10 people meeting somewhere, the Bush administration gets these anonymous terrorist tips? They always go "There's a possibility of a potential threat sometime, somewhere and somehow. We don't know where it'll be... could be in a big city, could be in a small town. Could be planes, could be crop dusted chemicals, could be a guy opening fire in a crowded area. Could be an inside job. And it could happen any time. And it might not happen at all." How in the hell is that newsworthy? Every time a holiday or political convetion has come around since 9/11 a few years ago, there's been a terrorist threat. Hell, sometimes it's so serious that our nice handy color coded theat meter goes up. Ooooooooooooo... spooky. Because when it goes from yellow to orange, you know shit's going down. Except... shit has never gone down. Not once. But what has gone down is Bush's approval rating. And what's a good way to get it up again? The political Viagra known as terrorism. The terrorists crashing planes into the Trade Center has been such a blessing for the Bush administration that I wouldn't be surprised if they had a hand in orchestrating it. Just think. If they hadn't done that, we couldn't have taken out Afghanistan, and we sure wouldn't be in Iraq right now. Our boys and girls (but not any children of the people in Washington) wouldn't be over in the Middle East dying every day. Bush would still be considered a moron, incapable of handling a nation. But since the "attacks" (assuming it wasn't an inside job by Bush and Cheney) Bush has been portrayed as a war hero by the media, basically, even though he didn't even really serve in the military. And now it's giving the Republicans strategies in their ad campaigns against Kerry and Edwards. How will they handle the Mid East situation? The War on Terror? Well, if Bush hadn't sent our troops in unnecessarily because of this handy attack on America, they wouldn't be able to ask those questions. There would be no Mid East situation. There wouldn't be a war on terror if Bush wasn't in office because most other people would realize that you can't fight a war against an idea. Not only should Bush not be reelected, he should be tried for war crimes and decapitated on Al Jazeera for penance for killing so many of the youth of America. Go see Fahrenheit 9/11. You have to take everything Michael Moore says with a grain of salt, but it does present a fairly convincing argument against Bush.

(I'd like to say here that I do use exaggeration [hyperbole, if you will] to make a point sometimes, so use common sense to figure out what I really meant in the paragraph above and what I was just saying to shock people.)

Sorry I haven't been around much, everyone (nobody cares). I've been in two car accidents, my girlfriend has developed a cyst on her kidney, I've been going to my grandparents' house a few days a week... yeah. Mostly it's been the kidney cyst that's kept me away and I apologize. Leslie's unable to sit up for extended periods of time so I can't talk to her on here anymore. So that means I have to talk to her on the phone. And I'm unable to multitask. So there you have it. Once this gets all cleared up I will be around more often. We're just hoping she doesn't need surgery to get it out. Because of where it is it would be major surgery and that would be bad news.

I went to the lake (Lake Alatoona) the other day and rode around on jetskis and floated on rafts. Since then I have been in pain. While riding jetskis as fast as possible over the big waves left by the wakes of boats, thereby catching kick ass air seems like a good idea when you're doing it, your body will not thank you for it in the following days. But I do recommend it anyway. What I don't recommend is falling off a boat and hitting your ass on the rudder. Or motor. Or whatever I hit my ass on. I think I might have broken my tail bone a bit. Here it is almost a week later and I was trying to do situps but was unable to do more than 124 (usually do 4 sets of 50) because of the intense pain on my butt bone. I'm not going to the doctor for this because it doesn't hurt most of the time, but it is a pain... in... the... ass... I apologize. Hopefully it's healed and better by the time we go to Florida because rollercoasters are going to hurt if it hasn't healed. Going to the doctor would just get me a donut to sit on and that won't do shit against the roller coasters.

Future events: Leslie comes July 17-20, I will consequently not be available for comment. Brian comes the week of the 25th of July, tentatively. I will consequently probably be filming another stupid movie so me and Brian can laugh at it once and torture our families. Sometime after Brian leaves: Florida trip. I will consequently be riding lots of rides and sweating because my grandparents there don't use air conditioning in the middle of summer. August 14: I come back to Colorado. I will consequently be available for parties, weddings, bar and bat mitzvahs, and especially funerals. Get your concert shoes on for Against All Authority August 25.

Finally, I made a superfundandyamazing english test that you can take if you want. Leave comments with your scores so I can make fun of you.

Doesn't the music during the Xtreme Bowflex commercial (not "Extreme," mind you, since 1. That's not cool and 2. That first E is a bitch to add in) sound like really, really, really bad porn music? The answer is "yes."

So I've decided there's one person that everyone (young or old, male or female, liberal or conservative) could agree should just go away forever: Donny Osmond. I can't imagine anyone five years from now going, "Boy, I'm really sad that Donny Osmond isn't around anymore." I mean, who likes this guy? Actually, I think the more important question is: Why would you like that guy?

Bad Santa looked like it would be just about the worst movie in the world. And now I have to watch commercials for it again, now that the DVD is coming out and it's Badder Santa. It's like they're admitting that this bad movie is now worse. Somehow.

Reno 911! was just on (a fairly okay show) and one of the characters referenced Encyclopedia Brown. That's awesome. I remember those books from way back when. I only had one, I think, maybe two, and I didn't even read them all that often, but still, that's great. And check out that diction: "referenced" right before "Encyclopedia." Man, that's good writing.

I think this has been the most random post I've made. Chickenpox wasn't fun.

I want to be like this guy Rich at work. He's something like 48 years old but acts like 20 year old. He's getting all excited about Pitch Black coming out (okay, that was a bad example of how cool he is), he's telling me how he stays up until 6 in the morning and wakes up at 3 in the afternoon. He's not worried about making something of himself in the world. He's been working for Papa John's something like 10 years now, and he seems to enjoy it. And that's really all I want, is just to be happy doing whatever I'm doing 20, 30 years from now. Even if it's something stupid like delivering pizzas.

You know what annoys the shit out of me? When I'm making myself a nice sandwich for lunch and I grab the stack of sliced cheese from the deli, only to discover that the slices of cheese are about as wide as a strand of hair. And I try to peel the top slice off the stack, but it's so thin that I break of a miniscule little piece instead of the whole slice of cheese. Then, working off that, I try to peel the rest of the slice off, but it takes forever since I can't get a clean grasp on the slice of cheese. Fifteen minutes later, I've got my slice of cheese finally on my piece of bread, but it's not a nice square slice, it's a bunch of these tiny little bits and pieces I've plastered together. Yeah, that shit's not cool. What's also not cool is the fact that probably no one has ever had this happen to them but me.

All right, enough randomness. I'm out of here. However, I will leave you with this thought: Apparently this new green ketchup stuff is doing okay. At least, I haven't heard reports to the contrary. So, if, in some crazy publicity stunt, pickles were dyed red, would you buy them?

Yo. I am back. And better than ever. Or at least not worse than before. Okay, maybe a little worse. But generally the same. The reason for my extended absence is long and complicated, involving a great white shark, three (not one or two) lazer battles with invading aliens, a cupcake, Rainbow Brite, some Valium, more than a healthy amount of Viagra, and tons upon tons of explosives. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say it was an exciting time in my life. After all that got finished the internet went out here and we went to my grandma's house, which is not exactly internet friendly. A lightning storm killed our internet. So we got back from grandma's house and the internet was still broken. So I called our local Comcast representative (in India) and he answered in a well trained American, but still very recognizably Indian accent, and told me his name was William. I don't know many people from that area of the world, but I'm pretty sure William is not a common name there. But hey, what do I know. So then the guy came to fix it today (we'll call him Keith, because that's his name) and I couldn't understand a word he was saying even though his native language is English. And I'm not being racist or anything, maybe he couldn't understand me. So I made some guesses about what the hell he was talking about and soon enough we had a new modem and the internet was back. So to celebrate this glorious occasion, I'm writing this.

This is a good room. It's big and it's private. It is spacious and has a big comfy bed. It never gets light. It is the perfect bedroom except for all the bugs. Leslie calls me a wuss but seriously, there's a crapload of bugs down here and I'm sure that they feed on my soul while I sleep. Spiders the likes of which you've never seen, and little flying bugs that walk on the monitor. I think I saw one of the spiders eating a neighborhood cat the other day. I think this weekend the bugs will meet Mr. Vacuum (I won the spelling bee in third or fourth grade on that word). Then we'll see who's boss.

If anyone has an opinion on flautas, the mexican food, I would like that opinion. I'd like to try them, but I don't want it to suck.

New stuff? Why yes, I do have some. Audio Karate's new CD, Rancid's first CD, and Eurotrip on DVD. And now my money will begin to be saved for Leslie's trip because she might not have the money at hand to buy a ticket to come out here. I know what you're saying, Cam, she's trying to scam me into paying for her ticket. And that may well be. But it's a chance I'll have to take. I'd set up a Paypal account for donations if you all weren't such cheap bastards. And if I had any idea how to do that. But she promises she'll pay me back, so we'll see.

Still no job. It ain't happening. I developed a theory not too long ago. Places won't hire me because I'm ugly. Employers know that everyone likes good looking people. And if a place has an entire staff comprised of models and porn stars, people will come back because they like looking at them. Nobody likes looking at me, and the employers know that. I won't bring business back. So I'm developing a bill to propose to Congress about equal rights for ugly people. If anyone else wants in to my project, I'd love the help.

Ronal Reagan is dead. His funeral is on TV on 9 channels every day like 24 hours a day. This is ridiculous. Leslie's mom was yelling about it in the background on the phone tonight and I talked to her about how I was mad about it too. That was weird. But yeah, it's overkill. I could maybe watch some hilights, sportscenter style at night, but the live coverage of a casket draped in a flag being marched down the street at 2 miles an hour is just too much. Presidents don't die every day, but neither do astronauts, and astronauts don't take up all the TV time. That's it for now.

It has come to my attention that it's been a while since I've posted a link that none of you will go to. Well, that's all about to change.

The Top 10 Conservative Idiots for the week of June 7, 2004. There you go. Read and laugh at the stupidity. Or get disgusted by it. Maybe you can laugh and get disgusted at the same time. I've yet to check out the rest of the site, but if it's good, I'll be sure to maybe possibly let you know.

So the delivery job is officially underway. Yesterday was my first day, and it was pretty good. The 5 hour shift went by pretty fast, but there was just enough down-time to rest and relax a bit. I think I've finally found a summer job I won't mind doing again over winter break. Of course, it's still super early to tell, but still. First day was good, and that's more than I can say about Shoppers.

Re-reading what I just wrote, I'm impressed with the flow of the end of the first sentence and the start of the second. "Underway" to "Yesterday" and then "first day." Good stuff. I know no one cares, but hey, that's good writing if I do say so myself. Which I do, since I wrote it and all. It should also make up for the very long and confusing first sentence to this whole entry. But I digress.

Races to April needs to release their CD already. What's taking them so long? I don't think they realize the mental anguish they're causing me. I've been waiting for this thing for about 8 months now. Wait, wait, no, I take that back. Fall semester of freshman year was when I first saw them live, so it's actually been more like... 21 months. Yeah. Granted, I was able to get my hands on a 3 song EP to hold me over these past few, oh, 10 months or so, but still, that 9 song EP has been in the works forever. I have a feeling it'll be really damn good, and it'll be worth the wait in the end, but for now this anticipation is killing me. If you don't know anything by Races to April, check out the link. If you like it, let me know, I'll buy a CD for you and ship it out to you and everything. I don't mind giving these guys my money, they deserve it.

So I've been watching some third season episodes of the West Wing on Bravo, and Mary-Louise Parker has a recurring role for a good 10 episodes, probably. If you don't know who she is, she is an incredibly, incredibly attractive woman. And I had no idea she was 38 when they were filming the episodes, either. That's crazy. If you've ever needed an incentive to watch the show, she should be it, since she's gorgeous. And the actress that plays Donna is pretty good looking, too. Plus, the writing is great, since Aaron Sorkin is the man at dialogue. So, pretty women + good writing = no excuse for you not to be watching this show.

All right, that's it for now. I'm tired of typing. Speaking of great writing, check out that alliteration. And my excessive comma use, like Adam. Isn't that a sign of a great writer? That actually wasn't a rhetorical question, the correct answer is "yes."

Here's something I could do without: back-to-back commercials for the same product. Who was the marketing genius who thought this was a good idea? "Ok, see, we show a commercial once and the audience will just dismiss it immediately- especially if it's for a drug or alcoholic beverage. But, if we then show a second commercial right after the first one, everyone will change their mind and like our product!" Yeah, that's exactly how it goes. Because I just can't get enough of hearing about Ted or whomever, and how his life turned around because he started to take a natural male enhancer that causes him to have a smile permanently etched on his face. Or how this woman lost her libido, but, thanks to a miracle pill, is now hornier than a prepubescent teenage boy. And, please, just shove down my throat the fact that your alcoholic beverage is better than everyone else's- I don't care. In fact, the only time I've ever found this back-to-back deal to be acceptable is for the Puma commercials about the Summer Olympics. And that's only because seeing an old guy grab a stick, then magically pop into neon green running shoes and take off running down the street is funny. I forget what the other commercial is that that one is paired with, but that's a good one, so I'll allow it. Still, I could really do without this.

Speaking of commercials, networks need to switch it up a bit. I know Cartoon Network (when I'd watch Adult Swim at school) would tend to play the same ones over and over and over and over and over. Notably, the preview for Hellboy. That killed me. I have zero tolerance for that preview and won't ever consider seeing it having been subjected to the awful 30 second spot about a bajillion times. Also, I've been watching Bravo lately since they've been airing 3rd season episodes of the West Wing, and they keep playing the same ads over and over, and it's just annoying. So, please, let's get some new commercials, huh? Or let's get rid of them entirely. I'm sick of hearing about products I could really care less about.

What's that, you say? What good music should you pick up? Well, I'm glad you asked. If you don't have the 3 essential CDs that came out on the 18th of May, then you are a fool. The Joey Cape/Tony Sly acoustic split, Sleep Station's After the War, and As Tall As Lion's Lafcadio (how one pronounces that is beyond me) are all extremely good. Check them out. You may even be able to find them at your local record store. Who knows.

So I (finally) got a summer job, not like anyone cares. I'll be delivering pizzas for Papa John's. I look forward to it, I think it'll be fun. I just hope I don't get into an accident or held up at gun point or something, that'd kind of suck. Sunday's my first day, so we'll see how that goes. And here's a really depressing factoid: I only have to earn 2 dollars in tips every hour to get paid more per hour at Papa John's than I did at Shoppers Food Warehouse. That kills me. Shoppers really screwed me over with my wage, I don't think I'll ever be going back there.

Cicadas are ugly motherfuckers. You guys in Colorado, be thankful you don't have to deal with them. It's not like they're all over the place, but there's a constant hum during the day since they make noise. And if one were to ever land on you, that's just extremely gross since they are ugly, ugly bugs.

August 15th seems like a long time away. The 15th is when I can finally move into the townhouse back at school. I'm so excited about it, I can't wait. I have a feeling it'll be an awesome year. And I'm gonna try real hard not to be a loser this year, too! Yeah!

I guess that's it for now. The commercials thing was really the only thing I had to talk about, as you could probably figure out since the rest of this is just pointless rambling. So I'm gonna stop wasting your time now. Bottom line: music = good, back-to-back commercials = bad, and cicadas = ugly motherfuckers. And to connect this to what Adam said a while ago, yeah, there should be a comma before the "and." His teachers don't know anything at all about grammar, apparently.

How the hell does the WB stay in business? It seems like what it does is it waits for other stations to come up with ideas for shows, then when their shows are over it makes cheap knockoffs. Take, for example, the WB show that's like American Idol. Let me research and see if I can find the name of it... Ah. The WB's Superstar USA. Right. So I watched the end of one of the episodes of that show because what I was watching was on commercials. I also watched the last episode of American Idol because I was trapped with my grandparents and had no other choice. American Idol, while I don't condone it at all, is at least a classy show. The people on it are attractive (hey, if you're going to be a pop star, that's all you need, honestly). The people on this WB show are... well, they're people who you'd imagine watching the WB. Kind of the cream of the crop of trailer trash. Not like the one toothed lady with a beer can in hand yelling at her twelve kids to stop playing in the trashcan, but like her weirdly hot daughter who you can still tell is white trash. And then they came out with this OC knockoff called like Summerland or something starring Lori Laughlin. And they promote it like she's not best known for being Uncle Jessie's girlfriend on Full House. I've never watched either of those shows, I just think it's odd that the WB shamelessly rips off these other trashy shows and makes them even worse. I did, however, like their Married With Children knockoff Unhappily Ever After. I think it had something to do with the puppet that lived in the basement, and Nikki Cox's breasts.

Yeah, I use commas too much, what, are, you going to do, about, it? See, when you read that last sentence it took like ten minutes because you kept pausing. I have that kind of power over you.

I started writing a new episode of our TV show today. It's not very good. But it's not very bad. It's medioCORE. Or like xmedioxcorex or something, whatever the punk kids do.

So Leslie should be coming out here July 17-20. Hooray. Your prayers were received by God and he said "it is good." And on the seventh day he rested. I went to church with Dad the other day. Yesterday maybe. I couldn't escape the feeling that I was peeking in on some secret cult meeting that I had no place observing. I liked the handshakes, everyone seemed very friendly. Plus the big room, while kind of creepy, was not very hot. I did not like... everything else. The clothes were pretty cool, and the deacon's bible was pretty impressive looking. But the songs were definitely not rockin, nor was the standing, sitting, standing, kneeling, standing, sitting. Nor was the listening. But now when I write anti-Christian diatribes, I can use personal experience. It wasn't that bad, they didn't kill any non-Christians, but it's definitely not something I'm looking to start doing on a regular basis. I was waiting for some kind of revelation, but instead I just ended up thinking "this raising the right hand is kind of Nazi-ish" and "Oh good, we're singing again."

I'm lonely. Nobody is here to talk to me right now. Brian is MIA, probably watching the West Wing or something. Leslie is... somewhere. Working, perhaps? No, she should be off. And home. Oh well. Pulley's rocking me out for now. It's either going to be Rancid or the split next. I could put on the Postal Service and dance, but my brother would complain. Meh. I'm out of stuff.

Well, this is unprecedented. I actually have an idea of what I want to talk about in this post. I know, I'm just as surprised as you are. But first, I'd just like to point out that I just gone done watching 3 hours of The West Wing. I picked up the second season on DVD two weeks ago, and it's one of the best 37 dollar purchases I've ever made. I urge you all to watch the first season, then get blown away at how good the second season is. Amazing show. Also: if you're reading this blog instead of checking the site for updates (I'm making a big assumption there, that people still care about the site), then you should go check out the 'ol homepage. I put up a new piece of writing, and hopefully you'll like it.

But, enough of that. Here's what I want to talk about: your local news. Now, I don't know what your local news is like (unless you live in the DC/Metro area), but the local news here sickens me. I have no tolerance for it whatsoever. It's scare tactic after scare tactic after scare tactic. I'm fed up. They promote stories that no one really wants to see, but is too afraid not to see. It's like what Chuck Palahniuk talked about in "Lullaby." And if you haven't read that book, go do it now. Anyway, this week, the big news story I remember hearing about dealt with sex offenders. "Over a hundred child sex offenders have been found living near your child's school. Details at 5." Something like that. And I laughed. When I heard that, I honestly laughed. Because I was pissed off that the news is trying to scare people just so they can get ratings. And also because people probably honestly believe that these whacked out sex offenders really do live near their child's school. Whatever happened to trusting your neighbor? Whatever happened to being nice to others? Whatever happened to having faith in other people? Now, I hate people just as much as the next guy (ok, probably more than the next guy, but still), but I don't believe that people are inherently bad. When I meet someone for the first time, I'm not on my guard, thinking, "Hey, how is this person going to try fuck up my life?" But the local news is just fueling our fears. It's like gossip in high school. You release the story, and it goes wild. Next thing you know, everyone's suspicious of someone else all because they heard from a friend who heard from a friend who heard from a friend... Stop trying to scare us! But, let's not forget the very real, and very scary threat of a terrorist attack... Well, no shit! The whole world hates us, why would that be so totally unexpected? And it's not like the news is actually providing us with concrete information. Heaven forbid they should have decent enough intelligence to give us specifics. Here's what Adam had to say: "They have no information. The news goes 'They've heard from multiple sources that a terrorist threat is possible, but they have no clues as to the time, method, place, who's going to do it, etc.' That's not a fucking terrorist threat. That's like me saying I've heard from three people that the world is going to end soon, but none of them know why or how or how to prevent it, but we should all be scared and patriotic and watch out for fucking middle easterners." Well put, Adam. But, the news story that takes the cake is the bad weather we've been having here. The past few days we've had severe thunderstorms. You know what they've started using in the ads for the local news? "Violent storms in the DC area? More at 5." Violent?! Is there not a single story on the news that's NOT violent? Hell, there's sports stories about athletes who have acted in, you guessed it, violent ways. The top news stories are chalk full of violence. And now the weather? Violent storms... Bullshit. This is Washington, DC. There have to be hundreds of charitable establishments around this area, how come we can't hear about the number of lives the Red Cross saved today? How, thanks to some donation, a food shelter will be able to provide nourishment for people starving on the streets. How there have been amazing developments in the search for the cure for AIDS or cancer. But no, all I can hear about is how my neighbor is a sex offender and how we may, at some point, we don't know when or where or how, be attacked by the terrorist. So, do what I do. Just turn it off.

But that's just my two cents. Well, I talked about what I wanted to talk about, I guess I'm done for now. Read my new writing on the site (don't worry, it's not all serious like this rant was), and watch the West Wing. Have a good day, everyone.

So you may have noticed that the updates here aren't coming fast and furious. That's because it's summertime and I have better things to do than update this. Wait, no that's not it. It's because nothing has happened recently. I've been playing a good amount of tennis (the time before today I was rockin', today I was teh suxorz) and lifting weights. I've been waiting around for a job to call me. But no luck. So tomorrow starts round 2. I guess I'll go back to Staples to ask what's up, then head to Home Depot since it's right across the way, then to Lowe's since it's right across the way again. And maybe, depending on my mood, I'll go to the grocery store since I hear they're hiring stock people to work at night. And... a couple restaurants, Taco Mac (that name bugs me, and apparently it's not just a Taco Bell ripoff) and O'Charlie's (why would I want to work at a place named after the Irish version of my roommmate?). And that'll be round 2. And none of them will work out either. And I'll be jobless all summer, and my mom will keep calling me every day and telling me I should get a job and everyone should want to hire me because I'm a good looking, smart young man (mom's words, definitely not mine). And then I'll probably die destitute under a park bench, a sad, lonely alcoholic. Something like that.

I've gotten a ton of CDs recently. The Joey Cape/Tony Sly split is growing on me. Joey Cape is a musical genius. His new song Violet is amazing. The Mountain Goats have a solid release in We Shall all be Healed. Rancid's Life Won't Wait was hard to get into but I am loving it right now. Sleep Station's new album After the War is a damn fine piece of work, and if there were any justice in this world this would be the album to break them out of obscurity. Those are the CDs in heavy rotation here, there's a bunch more that get listens every so often. But I can't think of them.

You know what I like to drink? Whiskey. I mean water. Water is good. It keeps me alive. Especially when I have been sweating all day. I want to give water a hug.

Got done shaving just now, that led to two observations. One, I think my facial hair is growing at an odd pace right now. Maybe it's the altitude change or the humidity. I shave anywhere from one day after I last shaved, to one and a half days, to two days. I don't get it. I do know that I haven't cut myself shaving since I've been out here. I either figured it out or it's easier to shave closer to sea level with more water in the air. I forgot to bring my beard trimmer which I use to bring me back down to an easily shaveable level of facial hair after I "forget" to shave for like six days, so I have to keep on top of shaving while I'm out here.

Also, I have a massive sunburn on my shoulders. Not life ending like the ones I get at Warped every year, but bad enough to burn. I've got some interesting tan lines here. My face is pretty nicely tanned. My neck is pale. My shoulders are red. My forearms are slightly tan. My stomach is blindingly white. I'm kind of like a rainbow of various shades of white, red and brown.

Am I the only one who learned to put commas between every item in a list? I learned that it should be white, red, and brown. But then I moved to Colorado and the teachers were like "what are you, mildly retarded? do you have brain damage? dropped on your head once or twice as a kid? you like pissing us off? why do you put that last comma in there?" They said to do it like at the end of my last paragraph. I don't like that. It's incomplete, it needs another comma. Who's the english major here? Me. Unless you're Brian. Or someone I don't know. All I know is... uh... I don't know anything, it turns out.

Wish me luck in getting Leslie out here and in getting a job. Does that phrase "wish me luck" bother anyone? It's like hey buddy, I'll wish you luck if I feel like it, don't tell me what to do. And does anyone wishing you luck after you tell them to actually make you feel good? It's like holding some guy at gunpoint and telling him "hey, tell me I'm cool or I'll shoot you in the face." So the guy tells you you're cool, but he didn't mean it, he just didn't want to get shot in the face. People who tell you good luck after you say wish me luck are just doing the same thing, basically. They just don't want to sound rude by being like "Fuck that, you ain't getting any luck from me." So wish me luck. If you want to. Otherwise don't, I don't care. Good luck, me.

Yay for Brian's return for that last entry. He brought back the entertainment and humor that my posts have been so lacking. It's just too easy to write about life. You delude yourself into thinking that someone cares about what you're doing and bam, next thing you know you're at some kind of blogging convention talking about comment software and... whatever blog people talk about, I don't know. Blogging's kind of like writing country songs, you bitch for a while and publish it. If it had twangy music in the background we'd all be getting rich selling music to hicks and kids who want to be hicks.

I went to Best Buy today again looking for the Cape/Sly split, and I actually encountered a helpful employee. I know, I was shocked too. I actually looked around for hidden cameras, half expecting Satan to walk up to me holding a contract. I didn't know whether to look for Cape, Joey, Sly, Tony, Lagwagon, No Use, or what, so I did a little scan of all my major choices and then went and asked this kid, and he looked it up on the computer and it said they had it in store. So he took me back to all the places I'd already looked because apparently I'm a moron who doesn't understand the complex concept of alphabetical order and he couldn't find it either. So he said they must not have it because everything they have is on the shelves. I stick around to perform a more thorough search for a minute and he walks up and goes "I found it" and hands it to me. Apparently it was "in a pile that hadn't been shelved yet." So apparently everything in the store isn't on the shelves, eh, mister I Work at Best Buy so I Know Everything? Whatever, he did find it and he did give it to me and it is pretty rockin, so overall I have to nominate him for Best Best Best Best Best... Buy Employee ever. Because usually you're like "Hey man, can you see if you have this cd?" and they look at you and go "Yes." So they stand there and you go "Well would you mind looking it up?" And they go "Yes." So you stare at them and then wander off. Customer service is fun.

I tried to make a left turn out of Best Buy but there was a little traffic. I was willing to wait it out but I caught a glimpse of the guy behind me and he was subtly (read: not subtly) pointing right. So I thought about just sitting there for a long time wanting to turn left, but then I realized I had stuff to do so I turned right and then turned around. The guy gave me one of these (imagine me doing that three finger okay sign). He may have been a jackass, but at least he was nice about it.

I am really bald. Jesus. I don't like looking in the mirror when I get my hair cut because it reminds me how bald I am. More bald than last time, I'll tell you that much. However, the lady cutting my hair asked my age for some reason (I think it has something to do with being bald) and guessed my 20's, and I said yeah, I'm 20, and asked why, and she said "You just look real young, I was going to say teens but I didn't want to offend you." I don't believe I've ever been called young looking before. Most people tell me I look like I'm 30. At least when I had the beard they did. Who knows now that I'm baby smooth. Anyway, that Nioxin stuff mom bought me is apparently not doing anything because I am bald as shit. And next time you see shit look at it. No hair on there. I'm that bald.

My dad said that now that Leslie reads this every so often I'll have to be less detailed. I don't remember being very detailed, but I have since scrapped my plans of describing in detail every last nuance of my sex life. Or lack thereof. The problem with not knowing who all is reading this is I don't know who I'll offend. The solution is not caring who I offend. Problem solved. If you have any problems you need solved, I can be hired for a nominal fee, whatever that means. I'm also available for birthdays, bar and bat mitzvas, and especially funerals.

Well, let's all give Adam a big round of applause for giving this blog a complete make-over. It looks great. You could say he "Queer-eyed" it, but I wouldn't say that to his face unless you'd like a punch in the stomach. Anyway, due to the revamped look, we finally realized we had profiles that we had never filled out. So we got around to updating those. Go read them and learn lots and lots and lots of interesting stuff about us, then feel free to get in contact with us and say, "Hey, I didn't know you guys were such big losers." And if you read my profile, then you can have enlightening discussions with your friends that might go like this:

Your friend: You're the only person whose favorite book is Boogers for Dummies.
You: Hell yes, Boogers for Dummies has been incredibly helpful.
Your friend: I bet it has. I've been meaning to pick that up, I've had some questions about boogers for a while.
You: You should totally read it, then. The most influential book of my life, really.
Your friend: This conversation about the book "Boogers for Dummies" has been brought to you by [names have been omitted to protect the losers]. Constantly enlightening stupid people for 20 years. I bet this is the first time anyone's had an extended conversation about Boogers for Dummies in the history of the universe.
You: Pretty much, yeah. Don't you feel special? And all because we're talking about the national best-seller, Boogers for Dummies.

See? You could be having that kind of fun right now! Right now, I say! And when I use exclamation points, it makes it look like I'm trying to sell you something ridiculously expensive, but only sort of kind of works!

So I never took Calculus in high school, and I won't take it in college. Know why? Because I know for a fact that it will never, ever prove useful in everyday life. Simple as that. So take that, fools who took it in high school and got college credit after taking the AP exam... Wait...

School. Now there's a subject just oozing with excitement. Which is why I'm not going to talk about it here, since this post is supposed to be entertaining. Yet, I have no concept of the definition of "entertaining," so that's why my posts generally lack "interest" and "excitement."

Here's what I think. And this is just me, so feel free to disagree. The presidential election coming up in the fall is going to be one of the most important elections that our generation will probably ever have. So, to ensure that everything's fair and all, I say we re-institute a mandatory test that everyone must take to vote. Now, this isn't an intelligence test, and it's not going to prevent any sort of racial minority from voting, either. This test is basically an "are you human?" test. It'll ensure that you have at least some compassion for other human beings, that you comprehend the fact that religious doctrines and historical documents that were written centuries ago cannot still be followed out word for word, but must be amended to meet the needs of an ever changing world, and that you clearly understand that interfering with other people's lifestyle choices merely because you don't like them is wrong. So, now that all the Republicans can't vote, I think we'll be good. Now, Kerry's not going to change everything, I understand that. But at least it'll be a step in the right direction. Unlike the massive set-back known as Bush getting re-elected.

But hey, this post was supposed to be entertaining, right? That's why I'm here to say that Boogers for Dummies has easily been the most influential book of my life, really. Pick up a copy. You won't be disappointed.

Oh yeah. Look at this. Sexy sexy. I went and looked at Cam's blog because he commented on mine and damn if it wasn't one sweet looking piece of work. So I was like hey man, I'm not going to let that Oregonian bastard outdo me, I'm going to make mine look all fancy too. So now this one's all fancy. It took a while to get everything right. For example, I was an idiot and forgot to copy the comment scripts before I deleted the old format, so I had to go find that. But you'll notice that now the comments are conveniently placed at the top of the entries instead of the bottom. Why is that convenient, you ask, when you're much more likely to want to comment at the end after you've read it as opposed to at the beginning when you have to scroll back up? I don't know, it looks better. Shut up, I was proud of myself. Also you'll notice my HTML genius at work in the sidebar because I created the "websitey goodness" and "friends" parts over there from scratch. Or I copied the HTML and edited it a bit. But we'll say I did it from scratch. Let me know what you think of the new look, not like I had any part in making it or anything. The last one was nice and simple but this one is nice and colorful. Sometimes you have to give up simplicity for colorfulnessitude.

Not much new since yesterday. Leslie was going through a hard time, a bunch of crap happened all at once. It sucks how that works. You're just driving along the road of life with no worries, and then instead of like a pebble bouncing up and hitting your windshield and bouncing off, a boulder falls on your car pinning you inside and causing a fifteen car pileup. Right. What that meant was that when stuff starts to go wrong it comes fast and hard. So I stayed up talking on the phone to her until 3 trying to take her mind off her troubles. Don't think it worked, but I think I helped some.

Today I turned in my applications and went to Best Buy and to no surprise they didn't have the CD I wanted. I have a feeling this will have to be a mailorder thing. I don't know where else to buy music out here since Media Play closed. I can't believe Media Play closed. It was kind of like Best Buy's retarded but much more friendly little brother. It was basically the same kind of store, but it had toys and comics and books and stuff. And it had a better underground selection than Best Buy. Plus it didn't have that same soul-sucking feeling that Best Buy has. That and Walmart, you walk inside and you can just feel the devil clawing at your soul, sucking the life right out of you. I don't know where any independent record stores are around here either. I figure there must be some since every time I go to the used store they have a lot of good punk stuff, and for these people to be selling these CDs they have to have bought them somewhere. And they sure as hell didn't buy them at Best Buy. So if I knew how to look for one I would. Because this Joey Cape/Tony Sly split is pretty much destined to be the best album of the year, unless that Against Me!/Lucero split comes out this year. That'll give it a run for its money.

Now I am going to go play videogames. I'm thinking I'll try for a minute to beat that crap level in Sonic, then maybe go over to BMX, and then when they've both successfully pissed me off I'll go get pissed at Metal Gear and then call it a day. I hope I get a job. Tomorrow I'll go back to Staples and ask again. The manager's name there is Malon. That's not of interest, that's just so I can remember who to ask for when I go in, because I forgot until it just popped into my head just now. Until we meet again, enjoy the new layout!

My three blogging friends aren't updating their blogs. What the hell. How am I supposed to keep up with all the exciting developments in their lives? Oh, right... there are no exciting developments in their lives. I'll write their blogs for them. Cam is like "Yo, I is at home in Oregon not eating salad dressing and it's raining and I sit around playing videogames and hopefully I get a job soon." Eric's like "I'm in Conifer doing construction and getting paid under the table. I have lots of random thoughts and I am tall." Then Charlie'd be like "I'm sitting at home. Ryan and David are home so Ryan has to do that keg stand or buy us lots of beer. I am working early in the morning and partying every night." There. Now there's me and I'm like "I'm in Georgia and I'm sitting around, but I'm also exercising and trying to get in shape, and I'm looking for a job and I have glasses and a nose."

So I'm in Georgia now. The goals for this summer are twofold. One, a job. I went looking today but the only thing that really got accomplished was I bought some CDs. I got Rancid's "Life Won't Wait" and "..and Out Come the Wolves" (which I had already but I sold to my brother for 10 bucks, then I bought again today because it's awesome, for 7 bucks. I should be a stockbroker). Then I got a Fabulous Disaster CD "Put Out or Get Out", NOFX's "So Long and Thanks for All the Shoes" (which I already have a burned copy of, but since it was cheap used I bought the real thing), and most exciting for me, and most jealousy inducing for Brian, I got a Co-Ed Pollen split with 6 songs by each band, and it's pretty awesome. On the job front, I first went to Borders and picked up an application, then I went to Blockbuster and spent like 30 minutes filling out an electronic application there, then I went to the CD store who told me they're not hiring, then I went to Barnes and Noble and picked up an application, then I went to GameStop who said their "staff" was "full" and something about a new manager coming in that I missed the point of, then I saw a Staples sign and went there and that sounds promising, but the application software was down so I have to go back in the next couple days. That's the one that sounds the most promising. I also called this placement place that's supposed to call back if anything comes up. Tomorrow I guess I'll go turn in my applications to the book stores and maybe drive around the other side of town to see if anything interesting is over there. I also might go see if the other CD store is hiring (it's not). So that's that.

I weigh 170 pounds. I haven't weighed that little in forever. I don't know what happened, I haven't been dieting that much or exercising that hard. But last summer I weighed about 200 pounds, so somewhere in there something happened. Maybe my metabolism is picking up from all the jalapenos I eat at work. The second goal for the summer, which is basically my dad's doing, is to get in shape. He wants to get in shape and I wouldn't mind, so we're going to try to do that together. We lifted weights and played tennis yesterday, with my shirt off which scared away everyone within five miles from the flab and the blinding whiteness. But I guess you have to do that to tan. Tanning's not on my list of priorities, but again, I guess it wouldn't hurt (but cancer does). I'm all sore today, we'll see how this weight lifting session works tonight. I definitely don't feel like I can do what I did yesterday, but maybe I can. Who knows. And to all of those who think "this girl must be making Adam want to be in shape" I'll have you know that I was doing the diet and situps and pushups before I met her. Sure, she's a nice incentive, but it's not the only reason.

Sonic Heroes is pissing me off because of these stupid casino levels. Charlie knows what I'm talking about. Brightly colored pinball tables. If I never see another one of them, I'll be fine with that. The bike game is hard as shit to control, but it's alright. I'm doing some crazy tricks now. Once every hundred tries I can even land one. And Metal Gear Solid is a lot harder than I remember, but it's still awesome. The redone cinema scenes are rockin, and the game is just amazing in the first place. Oh, and Resident Evil 4 will be the best game ever. The new Zelda game will be a million times better than that cartoony shit they did for the last game. And Donkey Konga... well, let's not speak of that. Gamecube is a good system for all the shit it takes for not having a billion games or the capability to play DVDs. Go Tigers!

I was laying in bed last night and got a phone call about 1 in the morning. I wasn't going to answer it but I figured only Leslie would be crazy enough to call at that time. Or something big was going down. So I answered it and Leslie was like "Since we don't work until tomorrow afternoon we should hang out." I was a little out of it so I was like "You want to hang out? When?" She said "Tonight." So of course I said yes, put some clothes on, and went downstairs to read until she got here. Eric came down to get some water and was like "What the hell are you doing?" and I said "Reading, what are you doing?" and he said "Getting some water." I apologized for the phone calls, since she's my friend, and Eric said "Girls make you do weird shit." Truer words have never been spoken. Amen, brother. Another night of little sleep that was well worth it.

Well, this is my last night here in Fort Collins for a while. It's kind of depressing. I do want to get out of here for a while, but now that this Leslie thing is going on pretty heavy I don't want to leave her for three months. Awww. So here, this is from my first entry in here:

"Here's the deal. The only people who are going to read this are me, so I really don't feel like discussing my problems in life, or my views on anything at this point. Say someday something really big happens in my life, maybe then I'll get all mushy, but until then, I'm going to use this to get exercise with my fingers by pushing buttons."

Something big happened in my life, so like I said, I can now get all mushy. If you don't mind, and even if you do, this entry will be somewhat meditative and "deep" (as in shallow).

It's funny (not ha ha) how things and people change. Thinking back to who I was a few years ago, last year, or even a couple months ago, I don't think I can relate to that person. I read old things I wrote and I'm like "wow... that's not how I feel." I guess it's just a natural part of life that as we go on we change. It's partly external, wanting to fit in with friends or just being influenced by them, and it's party internal, wanting to change because you're sick of yourself. I know for Brian and me the internal part comes into play often. The thing is, Leslie's caused me to think back and look at the past. She didn't do anything directly to do that, just by being there it happened. For a long time after Trista broke up with me I felt like there was no reason to keep trying. It's like, if I give that much of my life to someone and they throw me away, what value can I possibly have? It should have helped that I was going to college in a new place surrounded by new people, but it didn't. I tried the dating thing my freshman year up here and didn't get anything out of it. No one was interested in me. There was this girl Sarah who I thought was cool and funny but she turned out to be one of those girls that always give bad excuses on the phone. There was Jennifer who I thought showed interest in me, but turns out I'm just really bad at reading people. My piss poor self esteem from the breakup probably played a part in this. Feeling worthless as a human being, unlovable, without any redeeming qualities, is not a turn on apparently.
So I gave up. I watched Charlie and Cam get shot down time after time and decided that, you know what, fuck it, I don't need this shit. All the trouble us guys go to to even get a girl to be in the same room alone with us isn't worth the feeling of defeat when they bust out the "I don't want to ruin our friendship" line. We have to work up the courage to go up to this person who may or may not have any idea who we are and try to win them over. And 99% of them probably think we're just trying to get in their pants. And I'll admit, there are a lot of guys (known in my mind as jackasses) who do only want to get in a girl's pants. But I know me, and I know Cam, and I know Charlie, and I'm fairly sure that we're not just after meaningless sex. I can say that for sure about myself anyway, never having indulged. So watching this trifle known as attempting to date I decided that I didn't need the rejection. My self esteem was low enough already.
Now I've done a lot of thinking and I did a lot of stupid shit in my relationship with Trista. I also think she did some unreasonable things. But for a long time after that ended I still felt like I had feelings for her. That's natural, I guess. Whatever feelings I had faded in time and now I feel absolutely nothing toward her. Is that natural or am I a cold hearted, soulless prick? Probably both. But I finally decided that I caused that to end as much as she did as much as the circumstances of the time did.
Enter this stupid website OKCupid.com. I took a personality test because I do that in my spare time and afterwards I could type in boxes about myself, so I did. Didn't get many responses from interested parties, only like 4 or 5, since I'm not good looking (Leslie, if you're reading this, you may think I am, but society says no. But I appreciate it). One of those was from this Addictedt2Bass girl. She just wrote a couple sentences like "Hey, you seem cool and not full of yourself." So I responded with some crap and told her to IM me. A few days passed and I didn't hear from her so I didn't think anything about it. Then while I was playing Morrowind she IMed me. We talked until 3 in the morning that night. We haven't done that since (well, recently we've been up until 3 in the morning, but whatever), but we did get to know each other and be friends. So since she lives not far away we decided to meet, and blah blah blah she's been up to the house three times in the past week and slept here two nights in a row. So here's the thing. Now that I've got a girl interested in me again I realize how dead the relationship with Trista was for a long time, and I realize how much I've changed. There's actually passion here, whereas I thought there was with Trista, but now I realize there wasn't. I feel wanted and liked, and I can't remember a time with Trista when I felt like this. In 18 months I never slept in the same bed as Trista. In two months, and really only a few weeks, I've slept in the same bed with Leslie twice. She kisses me, it's not always me kissing her. It's just nice to have someone who appreciates you, that's all. I don't feel worthless anymore. Not for now, anyway. I've got good friends, a loving family, a roof over my head, food to eat, I'm getting a (worthless) education, a car that works sometimes, and now I've got a girl who likes me. For always being such a cynical pessimist, I really do have it alright. It'd be nice if things were easier, such as this summer situation. But there's always something that could be better. Don't expect to ever hear me this optimistic again, but right now, though I'm sad about leaving, I feel genuinely good. So thanks everyone who's reading this, because more likely than not you mean something to me, I appreciate everything you guys and gals do for me (keeping me sane, going to concerts with me, etc). I'm sure I'll keep updating this over the summer. Maybe less frequently because things probably won't happen as often, but whatever. Expect me to be back to my mean, grumpy, cynical self next time. Oatmeal Creme Pies are good.

This figures. A girl finally likes me and I'm leaving for three months. The irony (or whatever the correct term is) is almost sickening. I seem to have a thing for older women. Could be because girls my age are sluts or boring or alcoholics or idiots or any number of bad adjectives. Trista was a whole 10 days older than me (whatever, it's older) and Leslie is 22 (why she's interested in a kid like me, I have no idea). I have a few things to say on the girl front, so if you're not interested, go ahead and skip down. So this is how things go down. Evan who I bitched about last time did call and say he could work for me. Of course he said he could work Tuesday, which is the day I actually didn't dread working. I thought about saying that he could suck it, but I said he could work for me since I figured it'd be nice to have a day off. Then I regretted it because I realized how boring it would be to have a day off. Then I remembered that there's this girl Leslie who I like and who likes me. And now let me back up (I'm bad at telling stories because I forget to give background info). So after Sunday's escapades I figured Leslie liked me but since I'm a clueless moron I didn't know how much. But then Monday she called me twice just to talk. Which I guess isn't that weird, but before Sunday she'd never done that. So... yeah. So maybe that's a sign of a relationship, maybe not, I don't know. Anyway, she calls on Monday to talk and I ask what she's doing on Tuesday since I now have the day off. And she says she's babysitting until 5 or so, so I say I can come down and hang out. Then I call on Tuesday to confirm, and she says I can go down or she can come up. Since she lives with little kids and parents I opted for her coming up here. So she got up here around 8:30 last night and left around 9 this morning. Right. She was basically falling asleep in my lap on the couch so I asked if she wanted to spend the night because I didn't want her driving home on no sleep. So she said yeah and I asked where she wanted to sleep and she said "close to you" (self esteem sent soaring consequently). So I suggested my bed, since the couch would be uncomfortable for two people to sleep on. This was the first time I've actually slept with anyone. Other than like my brother, and that's in a huge waterbed. So maybe it's easier to sleep with someone in bed with you if you've got something other than a twin sized bed. I got very little sleep. She had to get up at 8 to get to work, so that was one reason (I have no idea what time we actually settled down in bed), and also I never realized how hard it is to change sleeping positions. I sleep on my stomach with my hands up under my pillow usually. But we were sharing a pillow, and I had my arm around Leslie, so I wasn't free to sprawl out like usual. I'm not complaining really, I'm just saying if this becomes a regular thing I'm going to have to devise a plan to be able to sleep comfortably. In conclusion, the timing with this Leslie thing is awful which is just my luck, sleeping in the same bed with someone is difficult to get used to, and... I'm definitely enjoying this feeling of being wanted. This was sorely lacking in my last serious relationship.

Alright, to those of you who wisely avoided my talking about the girl situation, welcome back. I thought today would be a good day because I woke up with a half naked girl next to me, but (as is to be expected) things went downhill quick. After Leslie left I took a nap to try to regain some sleep (I don't take naps except days after Leslie's here, whatever that means) and then took a shower. So up until this point things were going fine. Then I got out of the shower and Charlie told me that bitch who always leaves early had called. I immediately knew she'd ask me to close and let her leave early tonight. I was right. I said yes because I was out of it. Since she took my schedule she was supposed to work from 3 to 7 or 8. She left around 6. Whore. There are few people who I can't find any redeeming qualities in, but that girl should just die. I really hate her. So already the day is going downhill. Then work was boring as shit because it was so slow. I felt like I was going to fall asleep because, again, I didn't get much sleep last night. Then I went out to walk to my car and I was like "Well this is really nice, it's cool and rainy." I was serious, I like rain. So I thought that and then it turned to snow. I don't like snow. Then I got to my car and my headlights aren't working again. So I turned the car off to attempt the infamous "restart it" trick. But it didn't start. I need to scrape off my fuses. So I sat there contemplating a murderous rampage, then opened the hood, decided I really didn't want to mess with my fuses in the parking lot in the dark in the snow, and tried one more time to start the car, and it started. Lights still didn't work so I drove home with my brights on. And that was my day. It started off at like a 12 on a scale to 10, then ended at like a 3. God likes to fuck with me.

I did get three new videogames recently. I traded a bunch of old ones in for Metal Gear Solid (way harder than I remember the original being), Dave Mirra 2 (way harder than Tony Hawk games) and Sonic Heroes (way different than any other Sonic game). I like them all, it'll be something to entertain myself with over the summer. Hopefully I can get a job in Georgia so I have something to do other than ponder the meaning of life. I just can't get over the bad timing with Leslie here. I don't like long distance relationships. Whatever. This is my life.

I'd like to formally apologize for turning this supposedly fun and entertaining journal into just updates on my life. But whatever.

If you read this, I'd like you to comment on it just so I know who reads this thing. You don't have to say anything, just leave your name, that'd be cool.

Finally, I'd like to wish my good friend Dave the best in the future. The bastard is graduating and moving to Texas in hopes of striking it rich mining coal. Or something completely different. Fact is Dave was the best damn RA on campus last year when we lived in the dorms, and he has continued to be a good friend of ours since we moved out. I don't know if I'll see you again before you go Dave, so good luck with all your future endeavors, we all wish you the best, and it's been a fun little run. Take it easy man. Come visit sometime, our house is your house. Not literally. Fin.

Woah, they changed the layout here. I may have to go and mess around with some stuff, since that's what I do in my spare time. Mess with stuff. Descriptive, I know. So there's a thing up there that says "Preview (ctrl+shift+p)." So I'm going to hit those three buttons and see if anyone dies. Woah, that was crazy. Basically all it did was take away the text box and make the font bigger. That's what I like to call completely useless. The old preview thing happened automatically when you finished writing, before you published, so you could read it over and make sure you didn't make any typos (you'll notice we don't take advantage of that feature). Huh. Well alright, this is offputting. I guess I'll just move on now.

So taking a final at 7AM is weak sauce. But taking a final at 7AM after going to bed around 3 is really weak sauce. Surprisingly enough I was coherent when I got up this morning, enough to make and eat cereal to attempt to give me a little energy, and then drive to and from campus without getting killed. Also, I think I did alright on my finals. I didn't know that many quotes on the Shakespeare one, but I did fine on the essay. And history it doesn't even matter how I did because I kicked ass so often early on in the class. I think I did solid, not great. But again, on 3 hours sleep the fact that I stayed awake is good enough for me. My mind sure was wandering a lot more than usual, though. Reading the questions required all of my concentration, as opposed to the portion of my concentration it usually takes.

So I know nobody cares, but I had another date with Leslie last night. It was just a sit at home and watch movies thing. She got up here at like 5:30 and left at about 2:45. How long is that... calculating... nine hours? Jesus. There's a lot of people I couldn't stand to hang out with for nine hours. My plan was to watch a couple movies and then go to bed around 10. The plan was also for Leslie to bring up these promised delicious burritos from some place in Greeley. But things don't always work out like planned. The burrito place was closed, apparently. Not a good start. So I made a sandwich. Then my grandparents called, and grandpa was like "Are you still staying at home every night? Don't you ever go out on dates?" So I said "Not really," even though I was technically on a date at the time. I just didn't want to hear any encouraging comments from my grandpa, I don't know why but that freaks me out a little. So as I said, I was going to go to bed at 10 after the second movie, but I was having a good time so we popped in a third movie. It ended at 11:30, and I could have gone to bed then, but then some shit went down and things happened, and next thing I know it's 2:45 and though I didn't want to go to bed, I realized that any less than three hours sleep might be fatal, so I had to. So... that went a lot better (or worse, for school) than I expected it to. It was the first time I've really felt wanted in forever. The three movies we watched were as follows:

Big Fish - Yeah, I saw it in theaters, but Leslie hadn't watched it, and it's a really good movie, so we did that first. That movie deserves an "A"

Hedwig and the Angry Inch - Leslie likes drag queens, apparently. So this was a movie about a drag queen in a rock band trying to find his/her missing half. There was kind of a lot of gayity in this movie, and I'm not completely sure what the hell happened for about 75% of it, but the music was surprisingly rockin. Maybe it was just the company, but I'll give it a "B"

A Mighty Wind - Christopher Guest's movies are so dry in the humor department. I'd seen like 30 minutes of this before and wasn't impressed. But I was watching it by myself that time and things are always better with other people around. So it was entertaining this time around. The music was horrid for the most part, but there was a good song in there. I'd say you should see it if you liked Guest's other movies, since it's the same thing he always does. "B-"

So now I'm done with school until Friday. I have to work tomorrow (Won't be bad, closing with Jayd, who's cool), Wednesday (Working with the bitch who always leaves early, but I'm only there till 7 or 8, so I can survive) and Thursday (Kill me. I work with this crazy Mexican girl until close. I don't think we'll both make it out of this alive). And then I have a myth final on Friday. Which will be a little hard because I've been thinking about what we've gone over in that class, and I draw basically a complete blank. That's not good. So I might study or I might just take a C and not give a shit (much more likely). Also, two people at work said they'd want to take a day from me, so I left them a note telling them to call me about it, and they never did. Not even Evan who I worked for once, so he owes me one. This is what happens when you do good things for people. You get fucked over. So screw you Evan, you pale, freckled excuse for a frat boy who keeps trying to get on Brynn even though she's not interested in you because you're a pale, freckled excuse for a frat boy.

I took a nap when I got home today. It was like 2 hours. I feel a little better now, but I don't think I'll be staying up until all hours of the night tonight. Also, I started three paragraphs in this entry with the word "So."

So. I went to work today, and I didn't have to work with the girl who leaves early all the time, so that was a plus. What was a minus was the fact that we were really busy because everyone's in the library studying for finals, so they come to Subway to eat. What also sucks was the drink machine ran out of CO2. We thought. Then Dave and Charlie came in and reported that though it was "a little strong" it wasn't out of carbonation. So the girl who complained to us was just a whiny brat. What also sucks is the delivery truck came around 3, as opposed to the before 11 it usually comes at, so while I should have been trying to close, I was desperately throwing things into shelves, refrigerators, and freezers. On the plus side we got out of there at like 4:25, which is about 20 minutes later than usual, but for a busy, inconvenient day like today was, it's not bad.
Then I walked out to my car and it didn't start. Then I tried again. And again. And again. And then I decided it wasn't going to start. So I went back into the student center and called home, nobody answered, called Charlie's cell phone, nobody answered. Then I went back to the car and tried a few more times, it didn't start, then I went to Cam's room for shelter from the impending rain. I was pretty miserable because I was hot, it was about 4:45 and all I'd had to eat was a donut when I got up. Plus my car wouldn't start and I couldn't get ahold of Charlie. So I ate in Cam's room and felt better. Then I called Charlie and he came and picked me up. So we went back to my car to look futilely under the hood while scratching our heads and making grunting noises, pretending that we had a clue what the hell we were looking for. Anyway, while I was trying the ol' "start it again, maybe something will happen" trick, this guy rides up on his bike and says "That's a bad (something something)." To which we replied "What?" To which he replied "That's a bad (something something)." Seeing our blank stares and drool coming out of our mouths, he expounded on that in big car words I didn't understand. After noticing no change in our "Hi, we're retarded" faces, he got off his bike and took a look under the hood. He used to have an older version of my car, apparently, so he knew what we was doing. Somehow that works, I guess. So he takes this orange thing out of this black thing and tells me to start the car, warning me that if you do what he's doing without being grounded (he was holding pliers with rubber handles) you die. With that in mind, I started the car, and he determined that there was no spark. After listing a couple pricey sounding solutions to the problem and telling me that "150,000 miles isn't that much for an engine like this" and "Audis are very dependable cars" (to which I responded with doubt, to say the least), he asks for the manual. I gives it to him and he looks at it and decides he'll just take all the fuses out and put them back in. Finding no bad fuses, he pulls that orange thing out again and tells me to start the car again. So I do, and he drops the orange thing and goes "Son of a!" I shut it off immediately and go out to see him, hoping that I hadn't killed the guy who was trying to help us out. He goes "It bit me" and plugs the orange thing back in. So he tells me to start the car again, and I turn the key and it starts up faster than it ever has before. We thank him heartily and he rides off into the sunset.
Now as everyone knows, I'm not a religious person. I've gone so far as to say "There is no God" just a little while ago. But when things like this happen, it makes even me, the heretical, doomed to hell athiest/agnost wonder. What are the chances that at the precise second that I'm trying to start the car again a guy on a bike will ride up who just happens to know about my car? What are the chances that I'd call Charlie just in time to get back to the car so that we could be there doing that? Not good. Miniscule. Infinitessimal. So was it just really lucky or was it some kind of divine intervention? I don't know. When I say "There is no God," I don't mean to sound like I know that for a fact. Hell, I don't even mean it like I actually believe it. I just say things like that because I'm emotional and I like shocking people. So is there a God? Stuff like what happened today makes me think there might be. I'm not about to start going to Church or anything, but I'm not so ready to be athiest. So thanks, guy who stopped, you really helped out my day.

What's the deal with the letter X? If you haven't heard Mitch Hedburg's newest CD, you should hear it, since he's much funnier than I am and he has a well researched and thought out argument against the letter X. Is there something inherently cool about it? Ecks. That's what it looks like spelled out. That's not a pretty little "word." So what's up with it? I was just watching the Braves lose again on this stupid Friday Night Extra thing TBS does, and it said "Coming up: All aXcess: Hitting with Julio Franco." Now there's a few things wrong with that. First, if you're going to put a stupid X in the word "access", why leave the second C? Why not go aXess? That's cooler. Are we supposed to prounounce it "axe-cess?" With two "s" sounds? I don't think so. And what's with the capitalization? Axess looks weird, I guess. So does Axcess... but that's less weird. Whatever. There was this run of computer games called like X-Treme Wakeboarding! and X-Treme Snowboarding and stuff like that. I used to get PC Gamer, and those games consistently got scores lower than 25%. Apparently that didn't dissuade people from throwing the letter X around like that. X is used in plenty of words already, it doesn't need to be thrown randomly around like that. X-Ray. Xylophone. Exercise. uh... Axe. Oxen. See? All kinds of words.

So school's over. However it doesn't feel like it at all. This last week of school was less stressful than this weekend. It's Friday night and I'm studying because A)I have two finals on Monday, one at 7:00am, the other right after at 9:10am. That means I don't get any study time on Monday. I work tomorrow from 11-4, so that's half a day of studying I don't get to do. Sunday Leslie wants to hang out after she gets off at 4, and since that's likely the only time I'll get to see her, I want to, too. Except I have to go to bed at like 10 so I can wake my ass up to get to school before 7. So today I got my final thing for theory done, studied 75% of history. Tomorrow I'll finish history and try to memorize 30 lines of Shakespeare. Sunday until I get together with Leslie I'll read through some plays to try to remember some lines. Monday I'll take those finals. Tuesday I work. Wednesday I work. Thursday I work. Friday I have my myth final, and then I go back to Conifer. Saturday I leave to go to Georgia. Then I get to look for a job. I want to quit life.

So before last year the Braves were like "All you need is good pitching to win!" And that was true enough. Then last year they were like "If you've got an arsenal for a lineup you don't need pitching!" And that was also true enough. This year I guess they're like "If you've got mediocre pitching and mediocre hitting, you can play .500 ball!" And that's true enough.

Why can't something exciting happen? If a meteor landed outside that'd be pretty neat. Or a nice thunderstorm right over the house. Maybe I could be walking down the street and get shot for no reason, that'd be something. Or some girl who's on fire could show up on the doorstep and ask me to put her out, and then I'd spray her with a hose and we could watch a movie or something. I think I'm too far into college now to back out, but in all honesty, all this schooling and work has sucked the life and soul right out of me. My chemistry teacher last year was a professinal fire eater, had lived on an island farming bananas, was a scientist... and other stuff I don't remember. How come he figured out how to live life, while the rest of us are stuck doing the same shit over and over again until we die? That's not fair. Nobody ever told me that I could farm bananas. Otherwise I'd be doing that right now. Forget this computer and this schooling and this working and all this communication with people, and all this technology. If I was living on an isolated island with like three other people farming bananas, I would be much much happier than I am now. Maybe. Or I'd be basically the same, but in a different situation.

I didn't really have a point with this post. I just wanted to stop studying for a while and get that X thing out of me.