[thegaybook]

There is this website that apparently went under my radar, as I hadn't heard of it until the other day. It is called thefacebook, and it is without question one of the gayest things I have ever seen in my life.

I don't get what the point of it is supposed to be. People put their pictures up on this site, fill out where they go to school, where they went to school, and that's it. You can put extra profile stuff up, but not many do. But what is it for? It says to like find people from your school, meet new friends, blah blah blah. Who wants to see these people? I sure don't. Plus, what point does it serve? To look at them and go "Uhh, I HATED THEM!!!"?

It stills blows my mind. What is it for? Its gotten to a point where I've heard people talking about it in everyday conversation. But what is it? Fucking pictures of people you used to know? Big whoop. Get lives. Why would you put yourself on there? Pointless. I think what it is mainly for is to try and show off to people how cool you are now. 90% of them I have seen have some homo holding an alcoholic beverage in their hands. WOW! You drink???? You must be the first person to ever do that!!! You are so wild and fun!!!

But, and here's the caveat, you have to sign up to look at who is on there.

So wanting to see who fails at life, I signed up for it under a false name. Clever. I tired to put a screen shot of it up here but the damn site that hosts my pictures resized it, so its too small to see. Regardless, I decided to search for the people I thought would do a thing like this. No joke, all but one was on there.

Stop being so predictable.

The New Obsession

Over the break, I experienced something that I am glad I do not have constant access to, as I would never do any work ever again. This thing would be Donkey Konga.

The basic premise of the game is you take a controller shaped like two bongo drums and simply hit and clap to the beat of a song on the screen. There is a little microphone in the middle of the drums to pick up the claps, which eventually makes your hands numb as all hell. It sounds pretty childish, which it is. But it is as hard and infatuating as anything you will ever do in your life.

This game entered my life after playing it briefly at Circuit City on Friday. Joe Gibbs must have sneezed on Jackobel, because after Chris played it for little more than fifteen minutes, he ran home to see what he could sell to buy the game. He resurrected his dusty old Gamecube sitting alone in a random crawlspace, brushed it off, made sure it worked, then scrambled to the store to buy this spontaneous purchase.

All Friday night, two twenty-something college students sat on the floor and hit bongo drums to the tune of "Louie Louie". And loved every minute of it. Hell, even Kristin and Kathleen wanted to play.

Chris got back up to Geneseo, where all his housemates are now equally as obsessed. I can't get it out of my mind. Every song I hear now, I see red, yellow, and pink circles floating in front of me. I have an irrepressible desire to clap.

Play Donkey Konga to give your life meaning.



My new weapon of choice

Thanksgiving 2004

Thanksgiving is here; everyone is eating turkey, drinking apple cider, watching football.

But is your Thanksgiving respectable?

More specifically, is your stuffing up to snuff?

For the last year or so, I've been trying to find out how people make their stuffing: in the bird or out of the bird.

If you answer 'in the bird', you haven't truly celebrated Thanksgiving. Who makes stuffing in the bird? It's a ridiculous concept. If you put all the stuffing stuff in there, its going to soak up all the turkey insides juices. You scrape it out of the ass of the turkey, and what you have is turkey-flavored oatmeal; all slimy and wet, full of giblet secretions.

Now out of the bird, that's living luxurious on Thanksgiving Day. You don't have to worry about any of those logistics with that asinine in-bird business. Put it in a pan, heat it up, serve delicious. I have never had in-the-bird stuffing that was good. It's gross. I think people who don't know what they're doing just shove it in there because they've seen it done like that on TV.

I think in-the-birders usually go for the Stove Top stuffing, too. Do you have no pride? Why not just go eat out? Don't embarrass yourselves by making a pretend ass meal. If the cooking doesn't start by 11am, you're not doing Thanksgiving right.

So if you are reading this, and you believe you deserve better than ass bird stuffing, remember you have a choice. Christmas is coming up soon. Take a stand then. If you don't do a kind of Thanksgiving-redux, if you switch it up and go for ham or something like that, write your loved ones a note for next year:

Out of the bird, or go to hell.


Wrong, wrong, wrong,wrong, wrong.

The Id Is In Constant Control

Joe Gibbs has a spending problem. Joe works many hours each week, and makes a lot of money. But he couldn't keep that money in his pocket if someone had a gun to his head.

Since I have known Joe, he has always been a creature of impulses. As soon as he wants it, he needs to have it:

"Taco Bell? Need it right now!"
"The Sixth Sense on DVD? Need it right now!" (if you don't know the story behind this one, you're lucky)
"Bubblegum milkshake? Need it right now!"

And, of course, this behavior has continued during this Thanksgiving break.

Chris and I have been in a trance for the past month playing San Andreas. As per usual, a few nights ago, we did what we always do; sat in Joe's basement thinking of something we could do with our time. Joe, as always, wanted to play hockey on Xbox. Chris, as always, agreed. (ask Kristin, Liz, and Kathleen how much THAT goes on.) Myself not wanting to play hockey, went and got my PS2 and played GTA on another TV.

Joe started to get a tingle in his wallet.

As the night went on, phrases like "Oh baby food, that is an awesome game!" became more frequent. I finally let him play for a while, and he ran around for 20 minutes avoiding the cops. He had a distinct twinkle in his eye. A twinkle that means the economy is about to get a boost. As Chris and I left, we heard from downstairs, "Now what do I have that I can sell?"

In the car home, me and Chris made guesses on when Joe Gibbs would have a new PS2 and GTA in his hands. We agreed if not the next day, then on Black Friday.

Less then 15 hours later, we all found ourselves standing in line at GameStop, Joe with his broken PS2 and around 20 old games, waiting to trade them in. Joe surprisingly got $35 for a broken PlayStation, and $65 for all the games.

So Joe was thrilled when he rationalized that he got a new, skinny PS2 and GTA for only $100.

I have the theory that Joe is allergic to money. Maybe something in the ink. Everytime he gets a nice paycheck or has some extra cash saved up he has to spend it. And he has to spend it now. It doesn't matter what it is on. Every whim is fulfilled. Just ask him where his $40 lighter is, or how his $800 skis and boots are doing.

He gets so caught up in the moment. I personally don't think he'll ever beat GTA. He'll play it to the point where you can have all the vehicles and planes and everything, and he'll just run from the cops for hours.

And you don't even want to know the amount of lying that goes into a purchase like this. Let's just say Joe got caught in two lies in one day, all over this game. Liz was not a happy camper.

Was it all worth it? As Joe Gibbs would say:

"Whatever food, I got a tiny PlayStation jones!"

Don't Say I Didn't Warn You

This is what I was talking about wayyyyyy before the election:

Diplomats: Iran Is Readying Nuke Processes

But hey, Islamic fundamentalists can have nuclear weapons, because that's not as important as letting homos marry, right?

At least we have our priorities straight.

7 Foot Tall Temper Tantrum

If anyone doesn't follow sports too much, let me just preface this post with two links:

NBA Suspends 4 Players for Brawl

Video of Pistons/Pacers Riot

OK, now that you're up to speed, I really don't care if a fan threw an anvil on the guy's head, you do not run into the stands and punch some milquetoast in the face for any reason. Period. SportsCenter was very vocal about making sure that the player's didn't look like the assholes here, as you can see from the video. They made sure everyone saw that fans were "starting" with the players. But who cares? That's why they have security in the stands, to get those people who get crazy. Hell, even John Rocker didn't run into the stands when Mets fans were throwing batteries at him. And all that got thrown here were plastic water bottles and popcorn. Plus, remember these people payed to go see these overpaid brats throw a ball into a hoop; they're paying your salary. I know it doesn't excuse the fan behavior, but the least you could do is brush it off. If that one guy just let the water bottle slide, all of the actions that transpired afterward would've been avoided.

This Ben Wallace guy is some asshole, huh? The foul wasn't that bad to begin with, and this huge monster of a man shoves some guy in the throat. I guess he doesn't have that much of an incentive to act civil on the court; he is only making $55,000 dollars a game.

And then the Pacers, you little bastards. Your teammate runs into the stands to take on a fan who looked like Where's Waldo, and you have to go back him up? I really think these guys look for an excuse to fight someone. Then there is a fan on the court, and he gets decked by not one, but TWO Pacers. I mean, you're humongous, tall, muscular guys. All you'd have to do is yell BOO in the fan's direction, and he'd run away screaming. Control yourselves.

I hope they all shold be suspended for the rest of the season without pay. Maybe they'll learn to appreciate their millions, and the next time they get hit with a water bottle, they can swallow their pride knowing you'll make more money starring in a single commercial then that fan will make in his lifetime.

UPDATE: Seems that NBA Commissioner David Stern reads this website, as Ron Artest was suspended WITHOUT PAY for the rest of the season, along with other players suspended for 30+ games. I said this is what they should do no more than 18 hours before they made the announcement. I guess I'm the invisible hand that controls the NBA.

59 Degrees

I have decided that fifty-nine degrees is the worst temperature ever.

When I return home for Thanksgiving break, it is supposed to be in the 59 degree mark for most of my break. And that pisses me off. And I'll tell you why.

59 degrees is right at that point where it is too warm to wear a long sleeve shirt or a jacket. BUT...at the same time, it is too cool to wear just a short sleeve shirt or shorts.

So, you end up with only a few choices: you either have to be uncomfortably warm, walk around shivering, or keep putting on and taking off a light jacket every twenty minutes or so. What a stupid way to go about your day; ripping off your coat, and then throwing it back on. People will think you have a chemical imbalance.

At least in Oneonta its been in the upper 30s, low 40s for the last few weeks. At least you know how to dress for the day. This warming trend reminds me of spring. And I hate spring so much.

I blame it all on this guy:

Bill Evans is one of the most cocky weathermen living today. If you ever tune into ABC 7 in the Tri-State area, you'll see this guy give the most snooty, half-assed forecast you've ever seen. I really remember one time him doing the weather, and you could see he didn't want to be there and didn't care. I couldn't believe it. This guy has to be making at least $100,000 a year to make guesses, and he couldn't even muster some enthusiasm on a broadcast in one of the largest markets in the nation.

And you know these weatherguys; to try and justify their jobs, they have to fuck with the atmosphere all the time. Floods, heatwaves, hail, all a part of the weatherman ploy to make money doing nothing. I mean, what does a weather balloon DO, anyway?

Holy shit, what am I doing with my life? I should be asleep, its two in the morning, and what am I doing? Typing complete and utter nonsense. Why do I waste my time like this?

I hate mild and damp weather.

Solid Snake Is Back

...with a vengeance, I might add. The game hasn't come out yet, but it got a 9.6 on IGN. You can't really do much better than that.

The Metal Gear Solid series is by far my favorite of any video game, as I have played the original so many times I can't even imagine.

Anyway, that's what I'll probably be doing for a little while.

I'm going home for Thanksgiving on Friday. Yes, Oneonta gives us nine days off, so eat my ass to anyone who goes to a "smarter" school. We are dumb, so we get more vacations.

I'll post something when I'm home. I have so much stuff going on the next two days, I doubt I'll have the time to write anything.

Holy crap how could you not get excited to play it
after looking at that???

David Abrams' Around the World

David Abrams.
Dave Abrams.
Abrams, David.
D. Abrams

There are many ways to spell it, but no matter how it is out together, the name David Abrams usually brings about feelings of pride and reverence. This is a natural reaction.

It all started, of course, with my grandfather, David Abrams. But what about all those other Dave Abrams in the world? Could they be as great?

I decided to find out for myself. Here are my findings.

1. One is a published author.
2. One David Abrams is the home theater consultant.
3. Another David Abrams rates movies online.
4. One is a critic that lives in Anchorage.
5. Another author.
6. Dave Abrams is also known to be a video game developer.
7. One is a professor at Brown University
8. David Abrams? Yeah, he's an undergrad at Vassar.
9. What's that sound? That might be Dave Abrams giving a tour through the rainforest.
10. We David Abramses can really connect with the inner workings of the universe, like my like-named brother does with his poetry.
11. Who is that SEXY, SEXY MAN?!?!?! That's none other than David Abrams himself, model extraordinaire!
12. Quick, we need Dr. David Abrams to do perform a life-threatening something-or-other!
    

Some Dave Abrams' aren't as amazing, like this one who runs a slipshod website. Or this one, who started a toy company (cool), but named his son MARTY (uncool).

I guess everything is not in a name.



The best of the best.

Paint It Like A Polaroid Picture

Me and a few of my WONY associates painted the Hartwick wall on Sunday as a little bit of free promotion for the station.

Since there is some sacred law that says you must leave someone's wall painting up there for at least 24 hours, we were hoping no one would paint the wall the day before we did.. I drove by on Saturday night to see some frat painted it at 9pm.

We were fucked.

So being the diligent PR Director, I got a can of black spray paint, rounded up a bunch of scoundrels (Lisa P., the Captain, and some British kid who's name was really Pip), and sprayed over their timestamp on the wall, so that we had plausible deniability.

I found out afterwards that I read the date wrong and the whole thing was unnecessary.

Anyway, here are some shots from the painting:

Who Is This Fag?!?!

You might be wondering why there is a picture of some jerkoff in this post. That's because this is none other than Michael Fredo.

You might remember Mr. Fredo from a string of Tommy Jeans commercials from about 6 years ago. He sang a song called "No More Tears" on it.

My brother and I made him on WWF Attitude and beat him to death. I can remember hitting him with a steel chair for literally 25 minutes.

I still want to hit him with a steel chair.

This post had to rhyme or reason. I just remembered the song from that commercial today, and remembered beating him on the video game.

Welcome to Life Under the Bush Adminstration

Hey! Bush supporters! I hope you're ready for four more years of this!

Druggists Refuse to Give Out Pill

These are the people who elected him.

But you have nothing to worry about, right Bush supporters? You're not having pre-marital sex.

And someone please explain to me why you would object to this:

White House Wants Suicide Law Blocked

Honestly, why would you not want someone who is terminally ill be able to end their lives peacefully, rather than in pain? It doesn't make sense. These Christian Coalition bastards want fetuses alive, anyone in jail dead, and force dying people to live out the rest of their days miserable and in pain.

But I guess this is what everyone wanted.

This is something a nine-year old girl should be
worrying about.

I've Got a Pain In Me Gulliver

The past few days have been like a blur to me. Since we decided to change the idea for our videography final project from a very sub-par young people/election idea to the much more interesting extended grilled cheese saga, my life has been enveloped by scheduling, storyboards, camera check-out times, and location possibilities.

The amount of work that goes into setting up a simple 10-minute movie is MUCH more than I expected.

Let me explain this vacuum that my life has been because of this class:

Me, Silva, and Sass have been in that Technical Services lobby for a total time of about 45 minutes this week, figuring out when we can all shoot, which cameras we need for what scenes, and if the cameras were available. One kid in the class, Mike Murphy, thinks he owns the cameras, because he has them checked out for every weekend until the end of the semester, and on average two nights during the week.

So once we got that all figured out, we needed to write down what days we can do it, what times, and what we will shoot on what days. During all of this, I've been storyboarding the whole movie to make it easier to figure out what shots we'll need. (FUCK -- that reminds me I have to write up the shot list for tomorrow).

So after that, we need to actually shoot. We needed some shots at night, and last night was the only time we could all do it. So at 10pm we are all standing outside in the 19 degree weather, filming for an hour. Add a half hour to the time because we didn't get the cables we needed from the Tech people, so we had to go to the radio station and steal a cable.

Then we shot a grilled cheese sex scene at Sass', which was fun but it was so damn late. I got in my room at 1:30am.

Then me and Silva shot today. Then we are all shooting tomorrow from 8am to noon. Then doing that again next Tuesday. And again next Thursday.

Remember this all for ONE class.

I can't wait for this weekend, I'm doing all the shit I'd need to do over the weekend during my slim slivers of free time so I can have no obligations over the weekend.

Well, I have to go to bed at 10:30 now like an 11-year-old. I have to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to shoot.


This is how my life has felt the past few days: like
everything is going on around me, but VIDEOGRAPHY has to be
appeased, so I have to disconnect from the world.

Review: Encore

I was able to, through someone's iTunes library on the school network, listen to Encore before its release on November 12th. I also realize that no matter what anyone says, this album will be huge.

But I'm having a hard time coming up with the right words to describe it.

I wouldn't say it was awful. But I also wouldn't say its too great, either. I think it illustrates the kind of music Em's been making lately. (I can call him Em. We tight.) I think it sounds a lot like The Eminem Show, which definitely had its share of good songs, but wasn't worth the $18.99 they were charging for it.

I really liked Eminem's first album. Even the second one wasn't bad. But the last two just seem to be made for the sake of making them; they don't seem to be too inspired or heartfelt, they're just.....blah. Case in point: Just Lose It. It's boring to listen to. It's not really saying anything, its just there to exist. A lot of this album is like that.

That's not to say there aren't any good tracks: Never Enough should have been the first single. Its got Fiddy on it, and its just one of those songs you know you're going to hear at parties for a while. Toy Soldiers was pretty decent, talking about ending this feud Eminem has with Ja Rule. Puke is just a goofy song about his ex-wife. [See? Even in these goods songs, he's just recycling subjects he's already beaten to death.] Mosh at least has a message. My 1st Single is another stupid but catchy song that is just filled with nonsense, which is much more fun to listen to than a song by like Lil' Wayne which is complete babbling about nothing. I dare anyone to tell me what any Cash Money song is about, other then that they have a lot of things.

Ass Like That has a part about Triumph (the dog puppet from Conan). I was thinking while I heard that about how weird it is you can link Conan and Eminem into a sort of feud.

But otherwise, that the rest of it is just "Eh." So five songs out of the twenty tracks are good. To me, that really doesn't warrant a purchase. But, especially with Eminem and white college kids, you have to have the album. And play it to death. Everywhere you go. I can't really see anyone listening to Just Lose It in a few years. And the rest of the album is just the same: filler. I only buy an album when I like all the songs on it. This is not an album purchase.

But I know no one will take my advice. So go run out and buy it, listen to it, lie to yourself that it's another classic, than go talk to everyone about it. If you were smart, you'd buy a few tracks on iTunes. That's about it.

GRADE: A barely passing 65%. Don't waste your money on the whole album.

IT'S BACK BABY!

I was surprised to get a call from Kristin the other day while she was in town:

Kristin: "Guess what's back."
Me: "I don't know. Tell me."
Kristin: "Guess."
Me: "I don't know. Tell me."
Kristin: "It's more fun if you guess."
Me: "I don't have time for these baby games. Just tell me."
Kristin: "They brought back the Wild Mountain Chicken sandwich."

Needless to say, I was happy. A little annoyed, but happy. This is one of the best chicken sandwiches in the world. And one day it just disappeared. I lost respect for our favorite Pigtailed Redhead when they pulled it off the menu. It didn't make sense; it was unlike any other sandwich they had: chicken breast, Monterey Jack cheese, bacon, and a spicy peppery sauce, all on a Kaiser bun. Heaven, I tell you, Heaven.

But one day it was just gone. No more big signs in the window, no more commercials. It was like the ghost of Dave Thomas was trying to ruin the company.

And it was funny; it was one of these things that everyone I knew that tried it loved it. I had conversations about it with both my brother and Jackobel. If a chicken sandwich can generate more than one discussion, its got to be good.

But then the strangest thing happened.

The Wild Mountain Chicken sandwich was gone. No more big posters in the windows. No more commercials. It was like it had fallen off the face of the Earth. But now, after long last, it is back.

Wendy's had been sitting on the recipe for a while. Turns out that Bigfoot (or, if you will, Sasquatch) came up with the sandwich (hence Wild Mountain) in the 1970s. Wendy's management didn't think that the American people weren't ready for the unrelenting spiciness this sandwich contained, and the kept it a secret until they thought the public was ready.
With the influx of Latin culture during the 90s, Wendy's finally decided that we were ready. Boy were we ever.

What's most surprising is why Wendy's got rid it in the first place. The Wild Mountain Chicken sandwich was given credit for raising Wendy's sales singlehandedly.

If that doesn't make you believe in its awesome power, nothing will.

I suggest to each and every one of you to go out and buy one now. If Wendy's is closed, sit in the parking lot until it opens. I promise you won't be disappointed.

As the old saying goes, you shouldn't judge a book
by its cover. You also shouldn't judge a sandwich by the
unappealing way it is presented by some prepubescent
dork.

At This Time of Year, At This Time of Day, In This Part of the Country, Localized Entirely Within Your Kitchen

Was walking to Mills with Kristin tonight, and I see something out of the corner of my eye. It was glowing and kind of looked like a streak in the sky. For some reason, it just clicked in my head that it might be the aurora Borealis.

Of course, Kristin called me an idiot and kept walking. But as I stared at it more, I realized this thing was pulsating. Green.

Turns out it actually was the Northern Lights, something I find out happens pretty rarely this far South (only 10% are seen below middle Canada, so figure we had a 5% chance of seeing this in action). As everyone knows, the northern lights are caused when the sun releases solar particles that hurtle towards Earth at a million miles an hour, get pulled towards Earth by its magnetic field, and collide with gases in the atmosphere. Duh.

It actually was really cool, though. Me, Kristin, Toni, and Silva all drove out a little ways into the Oneonta wilderness where there are no light to see it more clearly. It was streaks in the sky, all over the northern horizon. There was a constant throbbing of the light, shooting up towards this vortex looking thing above our heads, all in green and a little red. Silva said it perfectly: "This is definitely one of those things you have to see before you die." I can imagine people thousands of years ago seeing this thing and freaking out; it looked like some sort of alien ray sucking up souls.

Nature, good show tonight.

Wrestling Superstars: Where Are They Now?

As with most males aged 18 - 23 today, there was a time about seven years ago (was it really that long ago? Holy shit) when our lives were given a purpose. Every Monday Night, and one Sunday every month, we sat in front of our TVs and paid homage to warriors: one who would fight against evil, immorality, and deception week after week.

We were professional wrestling fans.

RAW or Nitro, we would all rush into school on Tuesday morning to discuss what had happened the night before.
"Did you see the New Age Outlaws join the Corporation, only do turn on them at the end of the night?"
"Who knew Vince Russo was such a dick?"
"What's up with this GTV?"

Add into this the video games (WCW Revenge, WWF Attitude, Wrestlemania 2000), the t-shirts, and the arena events, we all probably spent upwards of $500 - $1000 on our obsession. I know I had all the games, a Rock shirt, and an ECW shirt, as well as attending my fair share of events at the Nassau Coliseum, including the one where Droz broke his neck.

Hell, my pals and I not only started doing some backyard wrestling (some of the funniest and coolest shit I've ever done), but even had a Hardcore Championship Belt circulating around our high school for a few weeks, kids running into random classes to punch the title holder in the head during math. It was Eden.

But wrestling got too big for its britches. It got stale. I still remember when it began to become 'uncool' for me. The Rock was the master of the catch phrase, but when he started his 'Tall Glass of Shut Up Juice' campaign, I began to become disenfranchised.

Sometimes I find myself looking back on those times with fond memories. I still see commercials for some of the shows or video games, not recognizing any superstars. Hell, it's freakin' called WWE now! This is not the wrestling I grew up with.

But I still sometimes wonder: what happened to some of those guys? You might, too. And if you do, you're in luck. I'm about to give you a quick update on some of the more memorable stars from WWF, WCW, and ECW. If you don't care, read it anyway, asshole. I'm sure you have nothing better to do, anyway.
=======================================================================
New Jack- This guy was my favorite wrestler. Period. No one was tougher. The guy was a fucking bounty hunter before he was a wrestler. My brother was more into the technical guys. I liked the no-talent, hit people with random objects, beat myself to death for the amusement of the fans guys, and this guy was king of them all. I once saw this guy jump off a scaffold about 20ft. tall and have a 400lb. giant fat white guy fall on his head. I thought he died; how foolish of me, no one could stop New Jack.
Except apparently, for the law. Seems just two weeks ago, New Jack was arrested for stabbing another wrestler 14 times. You can't get manlier than this guy. But, sadly, he's broke, and can't afford the $5000 bail. If you'd like to contribute to his bail, go on eBay and bid on getting a phone call from New Jack from prison. Not joking.

Road Dogg - "Oh you didn't know? Your ass was a failureeeeeee at lifeeeeeeee!" This guy was a such a fag. Turns out the former member of the New Age Outlaws was released from the WWF in 2000, for constant drug and family problems. Surprise surprise he was in a drunk driving accident in 2001. He's now wrestling in TWA:TNA, which stands for no name federation that no one cares about.

Holy crap, just thinking about it makes me remember how bad this guy really was. Remember his finisher? Shake, Rattle, and Kneedrop? That's not a move. You're terrible. Get your barber's license and make something of yourself. And whoever told you that you don't look gay with a knotted peice of hair hanging in your face lied to you.





Mean Street Posse - These guys were such a joke its not even funny. Even when they came out, I remember making fun of them, so who cares that the hell they're doing? Although, if someone dressed up like them for Halloween one year, that would be one of the best costumes ever.





Crash Holly - Dead.

Miss Elizabeth - Dead.

Big Boss Man - Dead.










I'm going to stop doing this now. Its taking forever to find pictures and articles about these people.

Bottom line: All the wrestlers we remember are either out of work or dead.

The Snows of New England

Oneonta has some of the most bizarre weather on Earth. Yesterday it was raining, and about 50 degrees. All night I heard the wind blowing, really, really hard, like strong enough to do damage. Then when I wake up this morning, I see this.

A good quarter inch of snow falls overnight. Actually, I find out from Gish who keeps the hours of a cocaine addict, it actually started at about 6:30 am. This was taken at 9:30.

This was taken out my room window. It was a pretty big shock to everyone, considering there wasn't anything near snow predicted for the day. It was SUPPOSED to be partly cloudy. Not in Oneonta, oh no. Mother Nature rolls the dice every morning to see what we'll have. Heat wave? Sure. Plague of locusts? Why not. To illustrate my point, this next picture was taken when I got back from class.

This was taken no joke 3 hours later the same day.

This is why all Oneonta students appear to be a little slow. Normal people wouldn't be able to take this. The fact that the student population is...not the brightest folk... is only because if we DIDN'T have mental problems, our suicide rate would put NYU to shame.

Should I Throw This Pair of Underwear Out?

Me and Kristin have been battling about this for quite some time now. I've had this pair of underwear for about six or seven years now. I've grown to love them; they're soft, they're familiar, they have a built-in neutral odor. But Kristin says she's embarrassed to see them. When we're doing laundry, she doesn't want anyone to see them.

I think that's ridiculous. Who cares what someone thinks of my underwear? Why throw them out? The elastic still is intact. They still fit. There's no reason to throw out something still useful.

I've taken a few pictures of them. Take a look:

This is what they would look like to anyone that might see me in my underwear, perhaps a sexy lady or two. You can't tell much is wrong with them. The only thing is the waistband; it's a little ripped and torn. But does this warrant tossing them into the trash? I think not.

A closer shot of the waistband. I think girls have to realize guys have different rules when it comes to clothes. Most guys will wear an article of clothing until it is disintegrating while they wear it. Most of my clothes I've had for probably somewhere in the 5 to 7 year range. I take good care of them. They don't need to be retired unless they are beyond wear. I wear the football shirt we got in 9th grade at least once a week. It's not ripping, it doesn't have huge holes in it. Why throw it out?

Kristin has only one point when it comes to this issue, and its this:

If you can't see it, there is huge hole in the crotch of these underoos. Even though I don't walk around in my underwear, I can still understand how this could be viewed as the time to get rid of them.

But I refuse to give in. I refuse to throw them away for the simple fact that they can still perform their primary function; protecting the goods from being exposed to the elements.

I think girls just have a warped idea of when it is time to take something out of your rotation. I have about a 10 day rotation, and these still have a place in them. As long as the entire bottom doesn't fall apart, thereby making it a skirt, these will stay with me for the foreseeable future.

Or am I crazy? Should I throw them out? Put in a comment and let me know.

Morality Over Reality

With US troops on two fronts, an international community disgusted with us, and the economy in the toilet, people voted for morality.

People were more concerned with gay marriage than the Iraq War.

People were more concerned with abortion than with a terrorism policy that is simply not working.

How can this be?

I don't understand it. Do all you Bush supporters really think that these issues are more important than any others?

Right now we have an inward looking president acting globally. Bush is more concerned with appealing to his religious constituents than he is about how our policies right now are affecting the other 5.8 billion people in the world.

Bush said that if he was to be re-elected, that all of our policies would stay the same for four more years. I hope you all are happy, because if things stay the way they are right now, all us college students will find it hard to gets jobs. Actually, scratch that. We won't have to worry about that. We all might be in the armed forces fighting. And I'm sure so many of you think that is a joke; 'we'll never have a draft again.'

I think all Bush supporters should get drafted before anyone else. You are the ones who wanted to keep on this track of pre-emptive wars, so you are the ones who should get killed before I do, because I didn't want this. And you know what? Those people who voted for Bush will be the ones yelling loudest about how a draft is wrong, and will be the ones who find someway to get out of it. Fuck you.

I am seriously scared about this. We are at the prime draft age right now. If they have one in four years, we will be the ones called up for it. Period.

And if you're one of these people who says, "Well, if a draft happens, I don't care. I'm willing to fight and die for my country," then just enlist now. They need people right now, so if you are such a patriotic American, put your college career on hold, put your life on hold, and go fight. But of course you won't. Why? Because every single person I've talked to, that has said the above, and having the question of "Well then why not enlist now?", they all say the same thing.

"Well, I....uh....um, you're right. No, you're right."
"So then why not do it? Seriously?"
"Because."

Guess what, hypocrites? It might happen now. It's not a fairy tale. The draft is not this thing that existed long ago that will never return. Bush could turn around in February and say we're attacking Iran, and we need troops. Don't think that will happen? Wait four years.

We will all be 24, 25, 26 then. Think of how long that is. And this president who has TWO wars on his hands will hesitate to start a third? No way. Because what if we need to fight a real, legit war? Say North Korea says they are going to nuke us? That is something we have to fight. But we will be spread so thin that we won't have a choice but enact the draft.

Also, look at our economy. My dad is about to lose his job at United Airlines because of this economy. He's already working 18 hour days to make ends meet. But everyone who lives in a family who has money, this doesn't phase them, because abortion is wrong, so as long as we stop that, all the other shit is OK.

Hey, remember when gas being $1.40 was expensive? We're never going to see those prices again. But hey, if you've got a BMW or a Lexus or a gargantuan SUV, that really doesn't bother you, right? You could afford $6 a gallon. Fuck the environment, I want a car that could run over a Stegosaurus.

And hey, terrorism, right? Bush SAID he's hard on terrorists, so then he must be, right? Oh wait, now Iraq is a breeding ground of anti-American extremists, and airports are still not checking passengers properly, and explosives are missing in Iraq, and nuclear materials are in the hands of North Korea and Iran, one of the most fanatical countries about their religion (add America on that list), and nuclear materials aren't missing from Russia, and we don't still have the terrorist alert levels, right? Because since we're doing so good in the war on terror, there's no way terrorists are getting inside our borders, right?

But I guess you're right. Gay people not marrying IS more important. Two guys kissing is REALLY icky.

And It All Comes Down to This...

Not much more can be said than has been said already. It's finally Election Day.

I'm surprised at how many people I know are voting. My brother is actually at home to vote. Whether that's because he cares that much, or just wants a legitimate reason to not go to class, that's to be debated.

My DAD is actually voting. I don't think he's voted in years, if ever.

Anyway, I'm gonna be a nervous wreck all day Tuesday. I have a radio show that we're going to totally devote to the election.

I can't get Europe's The Final Countdown out of my head.

Although if I think about it, there is going to be a recount no matter what, so I guess its not going to be a momentous as it could be.

Sadly, I feel it inside me that Bush will win. I don't know how I'll react if that happens.

After all the shit, after all the news programs, all the arguing with Rob the Madman and Steve-o last semester, all the fighting with my friends and strangers alike, its all coming to fruition today.

It doesn't feel real.

Good Lord, here we go.