I Got A Blarney Stone You Can Kiss RIGHT HERE!

Kent Brockman: Top o' the morning to ye on this gray, drizzly afternoon. Kent O'Brockman live on Main Street, where today everyone is a little Irish, except, of course, for the gays, and the Italians.

Ah, yes, St. Patrick's Day. The day that grips Oneonta by the throat and strangles the town until it is a lifeless mass covered in its own vomit and urine.

This town takes its Patty's Day celebrations seriously; not only do most people wake up earlier than they do on any other day, and not only do they not go to any classes, but this past week I've seen kids getting genuinely PISSED at their teachers for scheduling anything either on, or the day after St. Patrick's Day. In my Composition class, the kids weaseled the teacher into pushing paper a paper's due date, and in the class I TA for, some girls were really, really pissed that a test was being given tomorrow, the day after.

So basicially students think St. Patty's Day is a four day weekend.

I am not partaking in the festivities this year, as I have a big speech I have to give tomorrow at 9am, and don't feel like fucking it up.

The only thing that makes me a little unhappy about not taking part in the festivities is around 5:30 this afternoon, when the majority of the revelers are out of their minds drunk and having a fantastic time, and I'm hunched over a textbook studying. This is the hardest part of the day; I begin to question whether it's right to put my schoolwork before fun. But then tomorrow when I'm doing my speech and not bloated, purple, and dead on a toilet, it'll seem worth it.

I can hold off until next year: not only will it be senior year and most of my friends will be 21 by then, but St. Patty's Day is also on a Friday. Just imagine the possibilities.

Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone. Hopefully your liver will forgive you.


Liver of a SUNY Oneonta student after 4 St. Patick's Days.

"Dave's Blog Is Fantastic Fun!" - Raves InStyle Magazine

We have made another fan of this site out of the Captain, who I'm assuming stumbled across the link for the site during an 'Away Message Check' at work.

Mabbes22 (1:52:23 PM): i have wasted 2/3 of my work shift reading your blog
Mabbes22 (1:53:10 PM): i could be doing something like looking for internships or playing bmx backflips
Mabbes22 (1:53:15 PM): you are my hero Abrams

Hecubus330 (1:49:20 PM): captian is loving your blog
Hecubus330 (1:49:40 PM): Mabbes22 (1:49:25 PM): this kid needs to write a book
Mabbes22 (1:49:28 PM): hes the maddox of Oneonta

After a short screentest to assess my reading abilities, I am now officially the Sports anchor for Venue on Wednesdays. Which means for the zero people who watch Channel 78 on campus or channel 23 in Oneonta, they will get to see my ugly mug talk for a few minutes on a TV set reminsicent of someone's basement setup for a cable access show during the '70s.

Me and Gish traded stories about how many times we have run from the police and not gotten caught. He had one, I had two. I win because of my extensive training in Metal Gear Solid.

Has anyone seen this Kotex tampon ad describing all the roles a woman has to play in one day? It says how women have such a fucking burden on their shoulders, they have so be so many things to so many people everyday:

"Every woman needs to be a girlfriend, a tomboy, a vixen, a maverick, and a genius....all in one day!"

Get real. It's called living a life. See, its things like this that make girls unpleasable. If they get this notion in their heads that they are such dynamic and incredible people just for not being robots and doing one activity all day long, they are bound to demand of their significant others everything they think they deserve, because they are worth it.

You don't see commercials for guys saying:

"Since you have to be a provider, a protector, a Herculean god, a tender romantic, a Victorian gentlemen, and a daredevil all in one day, Oberto's Beef Jerky is the jerky for you."

For some inexplicable and unnerving reason, they have a forum on the Kotex Pantyliners website; what they expect people to be talking about is beyond me. However, someone has touched on this subject.

But I'm over it until the next time I see it.

As a parting gift, here is the answer that has plagued those who play pool at the OST for centuries.

Talk About Confidence

Yeah, this makes me feel very good about next year, sounds like people really believe in me:

silvamania: thats what everyone was sayin
silvamania: your like rob
silvamania: your merely a shadow of him

Rob Ax 660: no I was the Neo of Wony, you are just one of the people who gopt killed in the first one
Fantom05 : I was that little mouser kid
Rob Ax 660: exactly
Rob Ax 660: you managed to get out of the matrix, but when you did, you were just useless

Thanks a bunch, fuckers.

This Thought Popped Into My Head During Fundamentals of Management Class

Has anyone ever seen pictures or videos of little kids who are bodybuilders? Like they're 7 years old, and they're rippling with muscle?

It is so fucking weird.

Busted like Lisa Kingsbury's Face

My Bachelor Night was a complete bust. I was down at the OST until about 6:30 tonight handing out WONY T-shirts and hanging out with Silva, Meg, and Miller shooting the breeze.

I tried to catch the bus after I left, but since OPT makes up the bus schedule day-by-day, I ended up sitting at the stop at the parking garage for a while freezing in the snow.

I had to walk up to Silva's apartment and sit there for a while since I didn't know when the bus was coming. We ended up watching the 'Newman-ium' episode of Seinfeld, then some Tech TV, with one attempt at sprinting towards the bus stop mixed in, only with it screetching away in my face.

I finally got home at like 8:30, and surprise surprise Gish is here. If you refer to my Bachelor Day guide, it is required for you to be alone. So out of all the days that he is not in the room, tonight has to be the one he chooses to spend hanging around and sleeping here. And of course my gay ass fucking RA roommate has to be Mr. Everything Needs to be Super Loud, and left his speakers on full blast, so all of this shit that happened tonight has had the fucking creaking and slamming of doors from Instant Messenger blaring through my wall.

So as I write this I am in kind of a bad mood. And I have to spend the entire day tomorrow doing work. Fuck-a-doodle-doo.

But on the plus side you can look at this comic strip I made:

Stupid Comic I Made

I have a feeling I might make a lot more of those.

Kings of All Media....In a 3-Mile Radius

Awesome radio show tonight. Silva and I brought a copy of Cosmo down and deconstructed it piece by piece, pointing out how it warps girl's mind into not being happy and content with relationships, and how it makes them think they are "worth it," when in reality they should just be happy with what they have.

It went on for literally 35 minutes, with plenty of calls and IMs. After we finished and played music for the last 20 min. of our show, we actually got a lot of calls from people telling us how funny they thought it was. Some girl said she was about to take a shower, but had to sit and listen to it because she liked it so much. Hooray for us.

Looking forward to the weekend, I'm not going to go out Friday, rather use the free time for a Bachelor Night. I'm so excited about it.

That's it. Have a quiz tomorrow in crazy teacher's class, yadda yadda yadda.

But before I go, does anyone else think that the phrase "Hilarity ensues" should NEVER be used in an article describing someone's death?

No More Pencils, No More Books, No More Management Teacher's Dirty Looks

So I'm taking this class where the teacher really sucks: she comes in and just reads off the PowerPoints that she got right from the textbook CD, breezes through things, saying only, "Eh, read it in the book," and seems just very unenthused at the whole situation.

But when we have a quiz or test, she turns into fucking Big Brother. In this tiny little classroom in the corner of IRC, she makes us moves all the desks around so that no one is sitting next to someone else, makes everyone put their bags and coats in the front of the class, has eleven different versions of the test, and scans the room while everyone is taking it like she is standing in a lookout tower in Attica with a semi-automatic in her hand.

Last Friday we took our first test, and surprise surprise, it was one of the hardest tests I've taken in a long time. Why is it that all the teachers who act like they don't give a fuck always have the hardest tests? Anyway, so the test was much harder than she said it would be, blah blah blah. We come in Monday, and she goes into this tirade about how everyone did very poorly, and how we all need to study more than the night before, and how she refuses to 'dumb' the class down just so people will do good.

This made me snap. She asked the class before we were done for the day if anyone had any suggestions on how the class could be improved to e-mail her. During the whole class period, I was hatching a plan to deal with this lady, because I was sick of her thinking she was some superstar educator when in reality her role was to read us lecture notes.

I went back to my room, made up a fake e-mail address on Yahoo!, and launched into what ended up to be a two page stanza on what was actually going on in the class. I kept it civil, but I called her out on not making up the PowerPoint or test questions on her own and just taking them from the book publisher, on the fact she just reads the notes to us without really giving us anything to supplement it, and how she acted like she didn't even care when she was in class. It was anonymous for the fact that I don't think a teacher can stay objective towards a student when a student has voiced such opinions. I don't feel like having this lady be on my ass for the next two months. I hesitated to send it, but then finally built up the courage and clicked the Send button.

Today was the first day of class since I sent it in.

She came in, thanked everyone for sending in suggestions, and then talked about how she got an anonymous e-mail.

"In twenty-three years of teaching, I have never had anything like this happen before. It really creeped me out. "

But you know what? Right after she got done talking about it, she announced she was going to restructure how our tests were given (now we're having a "test/quiz" every few chapters instead of some gargantuan test every month), and also went through the notes today a lot less rushed, explaining the theories and concepts fully.

I guess it pays to have a big mouth every once in a while.



Go over the notes? Nah, I don't feel like it, just read your textbook.
I'm going to talk about the piece of apple skin caught in my teeth instead.
Now, it was a Thursday, and I was eating a Granny Smith...

Missing like Everything But the Girl

It's been almost two weeks since I've posted anything worth mentioning. But I had one of those 'Back From Break' weeks. The kind where the teacher is trying to get everyone back into the swing of things by having a big test or something due when you get back from a break.

Unfortunately, all of my techers took this mentality, so I've been swamped; two tests, reading, speeches, etc.

But since I got over the hump of all that, I'll be able to post more regularly again.

Not that I've had much to talk about anyway. Unless you find studying Herzberg's 2 Factor Theory or learning about the North and South Bridges of a computer's chip set interesting.

So until next time.

Here is the manliest video of all time to occupy you until then.

Apache Gattling Gun

If we have shit like this, and are still not beating the shit out of Iraqi insurgents, something is wrong in the world.

Busy As a Bee, Lazy As a Fuck

Updates soon. Give me a break.

Conquering the Black Panther

WARNING: The following my bore you. It is about reading books.

In my senior year of high school, I began reading for pleasure again. I did when I was younger; I used to be obsessed with the Goosebumps books by R.L. Stine. But then reading became 'really gay', and I had more important things to do, like play Sega Genesis.

But because of a video game, and because of sheer boredom in my senior year English class run by the infamous Mr. Cannon, I started reading again. 1984 was the first book I picked up from that room on the 3rd floor of Harborfields, since I had heard a lot about it and knew the term 'Big Brother' came from it, I thought I'd give it a go.

Over the past 4 years, reading has become quite a pastime for me; if I don't have a book I'm reading at any particular point, I feel like I'm missing out on something. I found the Modern Library's Top 100 list of the 20th century that senior year, deciding since I knew nothing about 'great' literature, this was as good a place to start as any. But there was a monster on that list, #1 on the list: Ulysses.

Everything I read about the book summed it up as this gargantuan undertaking of literature; most agreeing it was more or less unreadable, but all saying it was a fantastic feat in literature. In fact, most of the people who compiled the Top 100 list who voted it to the top had never actually read the book cover to cover.

But as of today, Thursday, February 18 of 2005, I can say that I have read Ulysses in its entirety.

I was originally going to read this book first, but after reading such reviews as this and this, I put it off. I got 36 of the other books on the list under my belt before I decided I was ready to take on the monster. Kristin was taking a Joyce class in which they were going to read it, and they were having public sessions with the teacher (who is a Joycean scholar, yes, such a thing exists), so I thought I'd take the advantage of having a professional walk me through it so I could understand it as much as possible.

I only made it to a few of the meetings, and had only read about 1/3 of the book by the time the semester was through. But I wasn't going to stop; I had committed too much time, and I want to read every book on the list.

Now that I am done, I agree with those other Net reviews--kind of. The book is so fucking hard. You can't even imagine. I don't see anyone ever reading it all they way through just for the pure enjoyment of it. Parts of it get so tedious that I really wanted to stop, and I did for a long time, only reading about four or five pages a week. But I AM GOING TO FINISH THAT FUCKING LIST. In the past month, I put some major speed into it, and read about half the book since late December.

I never had a book consume my life like this; it was like a tumor, always following me around. Hell, I've been reading it since September, and I only finished today.

If you want a VERY brief and inaccurate synopsis, click here. That's the bare bones skeleton of the story. But there is SO MUCH symbolism, metaphors, and whatnot in this book, that although it might be difficult, it is quite an amazing, interesting read. I still can't believe how many layers there are to this book.

I know not many of you care, so I'll finish this up. I literally just finished it 20 min. ago and needed to vent somewhere.

I know most of the people that read this site don't read for leisure. Scratch that, I know you don't read period. And no, reading The DaVinci Code doesn't count as "I read sometimes." Which is fine, I'm not judging. But if anyone out there reads, and likes to read the classics, honestly.......I don't know if you could do it. I'm not saying I'm some superhuman literary master--far from it--but I had not only a teacher who had read the book ten times to consult on certain parts, but I also had the determination to finish it to cross it off my list.

I don't care what the other people said, this was a fantastic book. But you almost have to live it to really get something out of it. If you're cocky like those guys in those reviews and tried to read it without any assistance, then you have to get over yourself--you are not smart enough to read this book without any help. The ideas and things Joyce came up with are just amazing. But how smart can he really be if he wrote a book so inaccessible to everyone? That's not smart, because no matter how good a book is, if no one wants to read it, you've failed.

Whatever. Maybe I'm a nerd. I don't care. All I know is I conquered the 800-lb. gorilla of English literature, and I understood it. I'm proud of myself.


Throwaway...

Oneonta: God's Weather Test Lab

Oneonta has, without question, the most bizarre weather patterns on the planet Earth. In the past 72 hours, it has been 60 degrees, then snowed 2 inches, then 50 degrees, then snow melted in 34 degree rain. This morning it was 50 when I woke up, mostly cloudy. I went to a class with no windows. I come out 50 min.. later, and it is pouring rain; harder than I've seen it rain in a long time. I check the school's real-time weather, the temperature had dropped to 38 in, no joke, 15 minutes. As I write this, it is snowing and 34, and the sun is coming out. It's supposed to continue to snow until Saturday, with daytime highs in the teens. Then get warm again. Then a volcano is going to erupt on Main Street. Then we're going to get a torrent of blue ice, then a desert is going to consume the town. But don't worry, a glacier is predicted to be moving in next Monday.

No wonder everyone is sick. I was regaled with a story about how my Management teacher threw up on the side of the road the other day. My Public Speaking teacher had the shits, my roommate is on the verge of death, and Silva is having mouth infections.

Going home this Friday for our first week long break of the semester, but it won't be too relaxing, because not only do I have tests galore when we come back, but I also have an appointment to get my wisdom teeth pulled next Monday. I'm not too concerned about it right now, but I know the day before, it will finally hit me how much it is going to suck, and I'll hate life for a few days. People always say, "Who cares, dude? You get a ton of drugsssssssss.." Shut up. I don't care. I'd trade in being in a medicated stupor for days to be able to snap my fingers and have them out any day. I'm sick of feeling like a teething baby.

Whatever. I have to go write a paper on a "place" for advanced composition. Thanks for not being ambiguous, jerk.

Obligatory Social Commentary on Valentine's Day

It seems like you have to hate this holiday. Maybe not have to, but its cool to. It gets so tiresome to hear people ramble on about how it was just created by card companies to boost sales, like Secretary's Day and Christmas.

Walking around campus today, I was hearing people talking about it. Surprisingly, a lot of girls were saying how they don't 'celebrate' the holiday.

Yet is it coincidence that most of these same girls don't have boyfriends? Come on. You know if they had a boyfriend and he didn't get her anything, these same chicks would be bawling their eyes out. Don't pretend you don't want flowers and dinner and all that shit, because no one believes you. I bet you don't even believe yourself. It's almost like its a second birthday for women. Why would you give up a second birthday? You wouldn't, you liar.

Now for a guy, its a little more understandable: most guys do all the buying and paying on Valentine's Day. And I'm sure you know one of these guys who says things like, "Fuck that shit. Even if I had a girlfriend I wouldn't get her nothin'." But I would put money down that if these guys had some girl they knew that if they could take her out on Feb. 14th, wine and dine her, then take her home for a little of the old in-out-in-out, that they would jump at the chance. A guy doesn't mind shelling out cash as long as it leads to pussy. Any guy reading this: you know that if it was guaranteed that some hot chick you know would bone you, and all you had to do was buy a fucking bear and some candy, you would be all over it. Yes you would.

So to sum this all up, I dislike hearing people bitch about Valentine's Day. Just accept it. Yes, it is ridiculous that we are held at gunpoint by tradition to follow go out and buy candy and cards and flowers. But how is it any different from a birthday, if you think about it? A birthday really doesn't mean a thing. But we have to do it because its tradition. So the way I look at it, go out, spend $150 on shit that will be thrown away in a week, go eat some food by candlelight, stick the pee-pee in the hole, and accept it.


This guy believes in a thing called love.
Just listen to the rhythmofhisheart.

Bachelor Day

So yesterday I woke up at like 9, got up took a shower, etc. I went with Kristin, her roommate and their friend to breakfast at the Neptune. They all had some things they were doing together; going to see their friend play basketball, get some haircuts, go to a movie, change their tampons, you know, usual girl stuff.

This left me with a rare Saturday with really nothing to do. I got some work done early, but other than that, nothing was of terrible importance that needed to be done right away. It was going to be a Bachelor Day.

A Bachelor Day can happen with anyone, significant other or otherwise. All it really entails is being a complete lazy slob and doing nothing that could even be remotely construed as productive.

I knew this was also going to be a Bachelor Day for some others. I had to go down to Silva's house to retrieve my iPod from his house, where it was left for safe keeping instead of carrying it around in my pocket when I'm drunk, almost ensuring it would be lost. Anyway, so I go to his house. Everyone had left for the weekend, so he had the entire place to himself (which is an important element in a B.D.--total isolation).

I head in, and Silva looks as if he hadn't slept for three weeks, got hit by a train, and didn't bathe afterward. Grizzled face, wrinkled, stained, damp undershirt, worn and faded flannel pajama pants. His room had no lights on and had minimal light coming in from the cloudy, snowy day outside, there were clothes and papers everywhere, and sitting on his desk was the crust of a sandwich that had probably been eaten days ago. He was staring at his computer screen with a sniper's attention, playing Counter-Strike. This was the epitome of a B.D. if I had ever seen it.

I must have been subconsciously inspired, because I had a similar experience later in the day. I sat and listened to music while I browsed the Internet. Then I put in an old Western movie, got hungry, didn't fee like turning the movie off, so I ate cold soup straight out of the can. I ended up with soup all over front of my shirt, as well as the sleeves. When the movie was done, instead of turning it off, I just jumped on top of my bed with my sneakers on, folded my comforter in half and covered myself, and took a nap with the static DVD menu providing the only light.

I later ordered a pizza and watched another movie. Then I masturbated. Then I played video games.

The only way a day like this could be topped is if I won the lottery.

What the Fuck is Going On?

It's almost 4am, and for some unknown and eerily bizarre reason, I am looking at pictures of people with progeria online.

What the fuck?

STOP PLAYING GAMES

I swear that girls are born masochists. They love being upset and sad. Every one of them. For example, I read a profile with this quote in it:

Sometimes people put up a walls not to keep people out, but to see

who cares enough to break them down...

Now this isn't the first time I've read this before; I've seen a few girls either have it in profiles, or away messages, or some other nonsense.

This is usually written when a girl feels like someone, could be either a guy or one of their girlfriends but is usually a guy, is not making the effort to accommodate to their every whim.

For the record, I would like to say that anyone who subscribes to this or believes this is a valid way to live life should be poisoned. It is a perfect example of how girl's just thrive on playing little fucking baby games in relationships.

More or less what this implies is that the Girl was been acting like an asshole, being very snotty and evasive. Say the Guy asked the Girl if something was wrong. "No. Nothing. I'm fine," is the icy response Guy gets. At this point, Guy has two choices to make. He can either keep asking Girl to tell him what's bothering her, which is what Girl wants, or he can just say "Fuck it." and let Girl not get any satisfaction from sending him into this inane guessing game. It takes a man with strong nerve to take Option 2 right away. Most guys at least give Option 1 a try.

Now, it doesn't matter how much Guy persists in Option 1, Girl will swear up and down nothing is wrong, when something obviously is. This is the essence of what is wrong with Girl. Why would she do this to Guy? What is she trying to do? The answer is obvious, yet so amazingly frustrating I'm surprised men haven't killed all the women in the world as retaliation. She wants everyone she knows to pour all their attention on her; she needs to feel like people care about her. Fact is, there are so many other, more rational ways to go about this. But no, ALL girls will do this. There must be instructions on how this is done in the handbook given to every woman when she has her first menstrual cycle.

Anyway, Guy gets fed up with constantly asking and pining away to solve Girl's problems. Guy thinks "Fuck this. I'm not putting up with this shit anymore. Let her go be miserable." When Guy is finally pushed to this, that is when Girl puts up a quotation like the one above. She has isolated herself because no one wants to take her shit anymore. This makes her very upset, and claims she was just doing it to see who cared enough to try and make her feel better.

Well, you deserve to be miserable if you pull this. Now, any girls who are reading this, if you are honest with yourself, you have done this. No, don't shake your head. Don't tell yourself, "I'm not like that." You are like that. Trust me. You have done this. You might have done it and not even known it. But you probably did. You are all very methodical. But let me just inform you on something about men.

Men hate this more than anything. ANYTHING. If you ask a guy would he rather get kicked in the balls once a day, or have a girlfriend who plays little fucking games, he will say, "Kick me in the nuts everyday. It's less painful." It is. You all don't know how crazy this makes us.

Or you do. That's the problem. You know what makes us insane. And if you do this, knowingly plot this out and execute it, you are one of the worst creatures on earth.

But this post isn't even meant to just rip into you. I want to help you. Cause I know when a girl executes this, she ends up believing it and truly getting upset. So a word of advice that will save you heartache for the rest of your life: Never, ever, ever, play games in a relationship. If you are upset, say so.

If you do this, things will be worked out and better so much faster, and with so much less aggravation and stress, you won't believe it. Try it out. Next time you feel like being coy to your boyfriend, just tell him what you're thinking. You may surprise yourself at how well it works.

I told my boyfriend I wasn't upset, but I was!Why isn't he killing himself to make mefeel better?!?!?!

Post Over the Phone When You Have Nothing to Say

Review: Sideways

I am hesitant to write a review of Sideways; I'm pretty sure that after you read what I have to say, you'll think it's a pretty boring movie. It isn't, but then again I'm not very handy with words.

The plot of Sideways reminds me of the plot of a novel: two friends go on a week long trip to the California wine country and talk about life. Usually a synopsis like this turns me off immediately. I hate movies about whiny middle-class people who are angry at life for no good reason. But this movie isn't like that at all.

Paul Giamatti's character can't get over a divorce from his wife. Tom Church (who we all know from the TV show that single-handedly changed the face of television--Ned and Stacy) is Giamatti's polar opposite, and is a guy who just wants to party all the time and bang a lot of chicks--which is what causes a lot of problems considering he is getting married when these guys get back from their trip.

Nothing in the film was really too far-fetched. I hate these movies where the audience is supposed to just accept some ridiculous thing a character does just to advance the plot. I can't stand movies that do that. But all the character's actions go along with what they do the whole movie.

It had funny moments but I wouldn't really say it was funny.

It's really hard to describe. Maybe I liked it a lot because I, unfortunately, related to Miles. I was glad that it didn't make these wine tasting people look like very bright, deep, intelligent people. It kind of showed them to be very into themselves, like the only reason they sit there and describe wine with all these adjectives is so look smart kind of thing. But it also served as a device to illustrate how different the two friends were.

Regardless of how much I liked it, I can't see it winning the Best Picture Oscar. It kinds of lacks that punch that a Best Picture should have. Gish, who I saw this movie with on a little man-date we shared, said the Aviator was better.

Whatever, it was good. Worth the cash if you're OK with something that will be a little more subdued than your average flick. Plus, some fat waitress is naked in it. Perfect for the guy who likes a little meat with his potatoes, if you know what I'm sprayin'.

Grade: B+

People Are Stupid

First, I'll give an example of how I am stupid, then the stupidity of others.

I woke up this morning to go to my 9am class. I get up, get dressed, take my bag, and off to class. I got there a bit early, since we had a quiz I wanted to review for. I'm sitting there for a few minutes, and no one else trickles in. I start to wonder what the hell is going on.

I look at my watch.

7:47 am.

I felt like such an asshole. And even as I was walking to class, I'm looking around and I only saw like 3 or 4 other people, and no cars driving. Like an asshole, I thought "Hmm. I guess nobody's showing up for their classes this morning."

But I am not the only idiot. When I got back to my room, I spent some time just browsing the Internet. As the real class time approached, I started to get ready, and put up an away message. I came up with the idea to use the infamous %n function, and put up some classic drunken IM jargon.

%n: hey
%n: helooooooooooo
%n: imn drunnnnnnnnnnnnk rihgt now
%n: and i fucknig love ti
%n: i spiled alloverr my shirt n pants ,too

Seriously, stop IMming me when you go out, its annoying
_____________________________________________

As I was doing it, I had a feeling people would fall for this. It just seemed too genuine. I had feeling people would think I was trying to be funny by putting shit up there they know they didn't say. Sure enough, when I got back to the room:

Hecubus330 (8:44:27 AM): we all know that's fake cause i don't use this screename when drunk. ass.
later, from the same person, mind you....
snail shelled (3:16:53 PM): oh you got me this time abrams

silvamania (11:29:55 AM): lol whent he fuck did i say that
notice he writes sober like he does when he's drunk.
silvamania (11:30:18 AM): ooooh u trickster
I would've loved to have been in the room to see his face when it dawned on him

I bet I fooled other people, although they were too smart to send an IM.

I Got a Basketball Jones

Daly called me on Saturday and asked if I wanted to announce the basketball game Tuesday night. With out thinking, I said yes.

Wait, hold on. Basketball?

I know nothing about bsketball. Nothing. How the fuck am I going to pull live play-by-play broadcasting live on the air out of my ass?

Luckily, Silva, who knows more about basketball than I do, was co-hosting. But neither of us had any experience in calling a sports game, especially live. The joke was the whole weekend that it was going to be the biggest fuck up in sports history; just making shit up, talking about completely different subjects, and so forth.

But, from all accounts, we didn't tear down the institution of broadcast announcing. In fact, most of the feedback has been pretty positive.

As I'm walking up to the Field House, I get a frantic call from Kristin. She says, and I'm quoting here:

"David, I need to borrow your car. My roommate's friend is bleeding out of her uterine lining, and I need to drive her to the hospital."

Oh yes, that's what I want; I want you shuttle some random girl I've never met around in my car WITH BLOOD POURING OUT OF HER VAGINA. Why would I have a problem with that?

Fortunately, some RA took the girl, forcing me not to have to make the decision of letting someone bleed, or having afterbirth in my backseat.

I thought this was going to set the tempo for the night. And it almost did. Once I got to the Field House, I meet up with Silva and Kodi, who helped set up the remote so we could broadcast. As they're doing this, Kodi and Mark Hine realize they don't have any batteries for the microphones, rendering them useless. (And, if you are a student at Oneonta, you know they then must be +48 phantom power mics, as this is the only thing you get out of a Mass Comm. education in Oneonta.) So we improvise with some mics that are normally attached to cameras. As we are getting settled, Silva and I ask if there is a way to play music during halftime and timeouts, so we don't have to make idle chatter; of course there is not. We notice a line in outlet on the remote, which meant we could hook up a portable CD player. Silva rushes home to get his. Doesn't find it, and get back with literally 11 seconds before we go on.

But from then on, we did well. One of the mics didn't work, so we had to share one, getting so close we were on the verge of kissing. And the fac that we knew none of the players names, meant a lot of "Shot by Number 27...........................................Kimmy Monroe."

But we actually did well with calling the action, and the color commentary/banter. Since I had no clue what was going on, I would look up stats, randomly add in a "Oh, looks like they're running a Georgetown offense," and come up with metaphors for what was going on. One of the better interactions was:

Dave: "Oh, and she really wanted that ball. She stole that thing like a loaf of bread in an old Arabian market."
John: "......Where the HELL did you get that from?"
Dave: "Aladdin, John."

And so forth. The people that listened said it was funny, and that we actually sounded legit, which was by some crazy sort of luck.

We're going to try to do more games this season. Who knows, maybe I'll get a career as a sportscaster?

Danny Manor, Albany, NY

Haven't written anything in a few days, been busy/lazy.

Went to Albany yesterday, so Kristin could put a check in the bank. Albany is where the closest Bank of America is. So we're on our way, and about an hour into the ride, she says:

"I hope I remember where the bank is."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm just making sure in my head I know where the bank is."
"Kristin, don't pull this. Do you know where it is or not."
"No, I know. I'm pretty sure."

Of course, she didn't bother to double check what road the bank is on and how you get there. I mean, she has been there ONCE; she feels that is an adequate number of times to have the entire map of a city etched in her mind.

And of course, we get into Albany, and she starts going, "Now, I think it's near the mall. Or that way. I'm not sure." This was the beginning of the downward spiral of my mood, to reach the angriest point I have been in in months. We ended up going in the wrong direction for miles, for telling me randomly to turn, then yelling "NO! Not there! Get back in the lane!" She seems to forget there are other cars on the road, and I can't just careen back into the lane. So at this point, we're at a dead end in some random spot in Albany. She has the nerve to YELL at me, "I TOLD you not to turn!" At the point I jump out of the car to show her that we are not the only drivers in the city and there were cars behind me. I refused to drive any longer on this wild goose chase that all occurred because she didn't deem it necessary to get directions.

By a stroke of luck, we end up finding the place. Now to her, since we found it, she thinks my aggravation should just melt, and everything should be happy again. This obviously doesn't happen. As we're waiting in the drive-thru ATM line, she starts to laugh at me. I said, "Oh, so it's funny? You getting me all pissed is funny? Look, at this." I picked up her purse, and began to roll down my window. Her demeanor inexplicably changed from jovial to angry and concerned. "David DON'T!", she yelled; but I was committed to the act. I take the bag and fling out the window into a snow drift. She leaps out of the car to get it, all the while I'm yelling out the car window, "HAHAHAHA. WASN'T THAT FUNNY?!?!?! WHY AREN'T YOU LAUGHING?? NOT SO FUNNY NOW, HUH?"

I had appeased myself; she was now as pissed as I was. After depositing her money, we pulled into the parking lot, and I calmly asked her not to do this ever again, for she was giving me a recurrent ulcer.

After my anger had subsided a few degrees, we went to the mall. The mall. On a Saturday. Not a good idea when you want to get over being furious. The Crossgates was completely packed solid. Finding a spot took about 15 minutes. Upon entering the mall, we went right into Best Buy, as Kristin wanted to buy me the third season of Curb Your Enthusiasm as a sort of peace offering. I didn't complain.

That is until we had to wait 20 min. on line. You wouldn't believe the number of people in this mall. Everywhere was full of people. We walked a bit longer. I had to do the traditional Boyfriend Wait outside some clothing store as she bought stuff she didn't need. Other boyfriends were around me. We all shared quick glances of understanding and sympathy.

As a footnote, does Albany have a big black community? There were thousands of groups of 3 wannabe gangsters roaming all over. I actually saw this black lady slapping the shit out of her little son. I laughed.

Kristin was hungry. There is a Johnny Rocket's at Crossgates. Which means there was a line. Luckily, we were able to cut it because we sat at the counter. We had chili fries and burgers. It was good.

These poor kids at Johnny Rockets. Never have I seen such efficiency out of people in their teens and twenties in my life. There were like 15 people working, all of them constantly doing something, and with a vigor I have not seen in quite a while. None of them looked happy, but none looked particularly pissed, as I would be if I had to work there. The guy making burgers had sweat dripping off the tip of his nose, probably into the burgers. I had a burger. I didn't care. I think the sweat added a little something.

We then took a trip to my brother's apartment. I wish I had never gone. His place is a palace compared to my shitty dorm room. He has a huge bedroom, huge living room, full kitchen with dishwasher, and oh yes, a private porch. It was just a fresh reminder of how pamperd a life he leads.

I have been racking my brain trying to think of a good topic for a paper about 'reminiscence' for Advanced composition. I hate assignments like this. Give me some direction. Reminiscence is way too broad.

Whatever. That's okay. I'll sit here and struggle with my schoolwork. As long as Danny can pull his Jet-Ski right up to his boathouse, everything will be ok.

By the way, Jackobel is getting a brand new Mustang for graduation. I'm not talking to him anymore.




"Dave, come in, I'm just playing some Halo 2. You want something
to drink? JEFFREY! Get Dave something to drink!"

The Team to Beat in the NL East

AWWWWW YEAH!

Take THAT, Mets fans!

That means you, Jackobel/Joe Gibbs/Joe D./Madman/Danny, etc.!

Married to the Covenant

This article is LITERALLY the story of the last 3 months for Jackobel and his girlfriend. Now probably the story of Joe Gibbs and HIS girlfriend, too.

Women Battle Men's Videogame Obsessions

I have to admit, I can get like this sometimes, especially if I am trying to collect oysters and horseshoes, or if I am sneaking into a Soviet base during the Cold War.

Bowna face.

Where's the Waterloo For This Napoleon?

I watched Napoleon Dynamite about two weeks ago, and the bitter, caustic taste still hangs fresh in my mouth.

For those of you not hip enough to know already, Napoleon Dynamite is about a character of the same name. Who is a nerd.

That's it. Seriously.

The movie, and the people who love it, don't even try to argue this fact. But the supposed allure of the movie is.......

That's right. There is none. I know many people who loved this film, and none of them were able to tell me what made it so great other than:

"Come on, man. It's funny!"
"Why do you say that? It's repetitive. It's just the same jokes over and over."
"Yeah, but I mean.....whatever. I thought it was funny."

Now I am a fan of subtle, repetitious humor; I still laugh every time a watch the Family Guy episode where Peter falls down and hurts his leg.

"Ssss....aaaahhhh....ssss....aaaahhhh....ssss....aaaahhhh..
..ssss....aaaahhhh....ssss....aaaahhhh....ssss....aaaahhhh....ssss....aaaahhhh."

Funny, right? But imagine that joke going on for 90 minutes. That's kind of what Napoleon Dynamite is. A joke that is funny the first time, but is told over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again, ad nauseum, so that it becomes horrendous.

And the joke isn't even that funny the first time you hear it. From what I could tell, the whole 'joke' of the movie is that this guy is a dork, and the whole town lives 17 years in the past. Yuk yuk yuk. Maybe I didn't get it. But I think I did. I think I just get tired of something like that fast.

The premise would have been funny if it was a recurring SNL skit, or if Napoleon was a character on a TV show.

How does this pass for a film? How did this script past so many levels of people that they actually gave someone money to make it? The way I imagined it was that there were three guys sitting in a room, just bullshitting.

Mark: "Imagine a movie about, like, the dorkiest kid you can, and then put him in some middle of nowhere place still stuck in '81, and he like has one of those old Trapper Keepers with the ugly 1992 3D geometric shapes on it."
Steve: "Holy shit, remember those! And then, like, he has one of those old retro shirts on, that says, like, Sullivan County Track and Field Meet 1978."
Mark: "Ha ha ha! Dude, and he lives in a house with, like, that old wooden paneling, and shag carpet."
Steve: "Pppppphhhh! And then, then the kid......."

(2 hours later)

Mark: "...and like, you set him up with the blackest girl ever, with the earrings with her name in 'em and shit!"
Steve: "HAHAHAHA! Oh fuck.....oh man....this will be the funniest movie!"
Ben: "Guys, come on. This isn't a movie. I mean, what the hell is going to happen in it? You can't have a movie with just nerdy jokes for an hour and a half."

(uncomfortable silence)

Steve: "Like, seriously, don't bring this kid to my house anymore."
Mark: "Fuck, Ben. You are such a fag."

I honestly think that if you found this funny, then your imagination has been so brutalized by TV that you can sit and watch a flock of geese waddle around, eat grass, and shit, and would be perfectly content with your day.

I, on the other hand, want my 90 minutes back.

Best Away Message Ever

Auto response from Arrow1564 (10:18:35 AM): work at 3 tomorrow, wish me luck...Bye bye. Good night. IJ*LO) guk 67f,9lf78o568lo... Good truck, im onna fuck

Dr. Zaius, Dr. Zaius

The Daily Show last night stole my idea to do a Freedom/Liberty count from the Inaugural speech yestersay (which, by the way, was 27 Freedoms and 15 Liberty's). Read the text of the speech here.

One selection from the speech took me off guard:

"I ask our youngest citizens to believe the evidence of your eyes. You have seen duty and allegiance in the determined faces of our soldiers. You have seen that life is fragile, and evil is real, and courage triumphs. Make the choice to serve in a cause larger than your wants, larger than yourself - and in your days you will add not just to the wealth of our country, but to its character."

If this doesn't sound like a precursor to a possible draft, I don't know what would.

As I write this, it is -5 degrees here. Which isn't bad, considering this morning walking to class, it was -29 with the wind chill.

I get the feeling this semester is going to be the Semester of the Written Word. So far, every single one of my teachers has given a reading assignment. I've got like 4 chapters to read by Tuesday, and a 100+ essay by George Orwell I have to start.

I watched the movie Amadeus today. Not bad. Weird, but not bad. The guy who played Mozart was pretty fucking funny with that laugh.

Play my favorite board game online.

I'm already sick of school.

Inaugura-shoan

Well, I wrote an entire post while I was watching the inauguration, but Firefox doesn't play well with Blogger, and I lost the whole thing.

Basicially, Bush is an idiot, Cheney looks like the baby from that show Dinosaurs:


















They put Kerry in the worst seat in the house, behind the guy with the huge hat:

And Bush gave some of the most idiotic and ambiguous words I've heard from him: "Self-governance relies on the governing of the self." I'm going to do a Liberty and Freedom count on his speech. He said those words so many times, all without any real meaning behind them. People just hear those words, shrug and say, "Eh. Sounds good."

Besdies, you can't take something like this seriously when they hold a ceremony like this at the same place where this has happened.

Pull your heads out of your asses.

Salt Stains on My Pants

I really don't have days that work out any better than this. Not only did I have my first class of the semester cancelled, thanks to my teacher being in India (?), but Silva and I also secured a domicile for next year. Although it will not have the camaraderie that the house would have had, it comes with a price tag cheaper by $1400. Plus, the landlord seems like the guy could be your father or a librarian, so you're pretty sure no funny business is going to go down. The landlord for the house on Elm is like 25, supposedly some big doofus, and like smokes weed with the guys and like spends all the money from the house on drugs and stereo equipment.

We had to pay Mr. William Q. Youngs $540 this morning to secure the apartment, so I'm low on funds at the present time. Hopefully this won't cut into the possible trip to Canada with Bowna next weekend.

I hung up a few WONY flyers around campus, but since we got like 2 1/2 inches of snow this afternoon, I opted to give that up early and instead kill some North Koreans in Mercenaries.

I have this sinking feeling that there was something important I had to do today that I didn't do, and that I fucked myself royally by just hanging out in the room. Oh well.

My gay ass RA roommate said there is a mandatory floor meeting we have to go to in about 45 min. Ppppppppphhhhh. Never ever.

Play this game. My score was 90. I bet it's better than what you'll get.

Def Comedy Jam

So apparently, some people think that I am some sort of laugh factory, that whatever I write here is completely to crack you up time and time again, right?

WRONG.

I am not your court jester. I'm not writing these things so that I can amuse you. I write something if it's on my mind. I'm not out to do a little soft shoe for you to illicit a little chuckle.

You know what? I guess you're right--this page hasn't been funny enough lately. Here, here's something I think is pretty funny:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

Or this! This one is SO funny!

A regular Rodney Dangerfield

Oh man, hold on let me catch my breath...........there. Now wasn't that so much more funny than usual? I should do this more often.

Once again another terrible post. I find it unamusing. Kill him.

Road Rules

Back in Oneonta. How the hell is that break over already? I've got one more day until I have to deal with the bullshit of advanced composition and public speaking.

The drive took less than four hours, which is good, since it usually takes five, and really good compared to the seven and a half hour torture that was the return trip over Thanksgiving break.

I've noticed that I become some sort of strange creature when driving these long distances. If someone isn't following the unwritten but all too real Rules of Interstate Etiquette, I fly off the handle and become obsessed with reaping vengeance upon them. For example, if I see some asshole constantly changing lanes and weaving in and out of traffic, going too fast and driving like a dick, I try to punish them. If it's a two-lane highway and they are behind me, I will drive side-by-side with the next closest car, cutting off any outlet for this prick to keep on flying down the road. One of the sweetest rewards is when you have some guy driving recklessly in and out of the lanes, you spot him and curse his name, he drives off, and just as you are about to forget about him, you come to some traffic and see Mr. Yuppie Audi or Fake Hoodlum Mazda sitting behind a line of cars, thus rendering his tough guy driving techniques useless.

I also find myself obsessed with trying to spot the warning signs of a slow lane, trying not to commit until the last second as to not get stuck behind some foreign guy who won't go above 40. Sometimes this is hard to do. It might seem like your lane isn't moving, but you always have to remember that the forces of the universe usually balance, and one lane will inevitably be going the same speed as another. But to be sure, pick out a Traffic Buddy, some car that you will keep an eye on in another lane to gauge how fast your lane is moving in relation to yours.

You can usually tell what kind of person is driving the car by what lane they stick to.

The left lane is commonly referred to as the fast lane, and this is generally true. Except if you are in the fast lane, you WILL have an asshole come and ride your bumper within six seconds of entering the lane, because many people think fast lane means "Go faster than everyone else, making me cool" lane. You have two options at your discretion: you can either a) size the driver up, figure they aren't truly an asshole, and switch into the other lane to let them by, or you can b) go intentionally slower to piss them off and show them what riding your bumper will get them, and wait until they either ease off or change lanes and go around you.

The middle lane is the pussy lane, and for people who are too scared to go anything over the speed limit. They believe that since the speed limit is 65, you better make it 60 just to be on the safe side. Do your best not to get stuck behind one of these people, because they go slow and tend to drift in their lane, making it difficult to get near or around them.

The right lane is for skittish grandmas, non-English speaking citizens who haven't a clue as to what is going on, or women (for the most part). Don't even venture into this lane unless you are looking for the exit ramp. Next time you are driving, look over there and see. You will either see an old guy so small it just looks like hands are steering the wheel, or an '89 Honda with 14 Mexicans in it.

Is this just me who sees this stuff going on? Sometimes I feel like I imagine all this, like I am driving in a soap opera where people where be kind and courteous to you, or stab you in the back and be complete cuntburgers. Does anyone else experience this? I hope it isn't just me, because it'll just be another sign of my oncoming schizophrenia.

Drunk Girl Babbling

Miami Makes Me Proud

My hometown folks made me very happy the other night during the Orange Bowl. As you know, I have an intense hatred for Ashlee Simpson, who gets more press than she deserves, usually by people like me talking about how much they hate her. It's permissible, however, because usually when people are talking about her, it's because she fucked up royally.

She has done it again; during the Orange Bowl, she performed the halftime show. Why they would book her to sing for 70,000 football fans, I'll never know. Anyway, so she is up on the stage "singing". You can tell it is her voice now, because it just sounds like someone with a sore throat yelling. She finishes the song, and IMMEDIATELY a torrential downpour of boo's begins. I am so glad that ABC didn't cut the audience's reaction; networks have a tendency to filter out negative responses with some canned cheering.

On one hand, I feel embarrassed for her; imagine doing that, and having EVERYONE boo you in a stadium full of people. But this hand that feels bad, it is just a tiny pygmy hand. People should not have to just accept and love someone just because they are out there singing. There is no reason we should be the music industry and TV network's slaves, eating up anything they throw at us. Just because she has a famous sister, a sinister, evil father/manager, a poorly done and heavily edited TV show, an album so digitally mixed it is unrecognizable, and appears on every talk show on television, doesn't mean we should just accept it. We should be proactive in who we allow these billion-dollar companies to push on us, and refuse to accept some with literally no talent, no matter how much advertising and PR they use on us. Make them at least choose someone attractive, instead of some crow-faced skank bomber.

Thank you, Miami.

(If you have no clue what I am babbling about, watch the cringe-inducing performance here.)

This is Devastatin' Dave, the Turntable Slave, signing off.

Screw Work

I think I'm calling in sick tomorrow to work. All my friends have off, and I haven't seen anyone in like three days, seeing as I've had to be at work at 8 everyday this week.

Today didn't go so well there, anyway. I get there at 8, the manager who has the keys isn't there yet, so I lose about ten minutes pay, which may not sound like much, but at $8 an hour, it is. Shut up, it is.

Anyway, so I get in the receiving room, and none of the other guys are there. I wait around for a little bit, when the buzzer goes off, meaning the delivery for the day is there. Not knowing what the hell proper procedure is, I let the guy in. He's got two pallets sitting out in the 38 degree sleet, so all the boxes are soaking wet. He delivery has to scan every box, and as he does so, he literally throws the boxes at me.

So now I'm wet and cold, and he goes to get the other pallet off the truck. Next thing I hear is "Oh fuck!" in broken, foreigner English and turn to see the 500 lb. pallet fall out of the truck and onto the wet, dirty ground. The boxes get crushed, and books fly all over the place. But this didn't stop the guy from picking them up and continue to throw them at me. But the rest of work was OK.

If that story bored you, I don't care. It really annoyed me and it wasn't a pleasant thing to have happen at 8:30 in the morning.

By the way, I saw this new sign of the Apocalypse at work the other day. It makes me really sad that people can be brainwashed so easily. Who is this guy to tell people how to do anything with their lives? What credentials does he have to dispense advise? All he is is a loud mouth know-it-all who for some reason has garnered a huge following for acting like a tremendous douche, when in reality he has no clue what the fuck he is talking about. A guy who gets caught trying to cheat on his wife with some ugly bitch by being a perv on the phone, who if he followed his own advice, and was innocent like he said, would have fought the charges tooth and nail, but instead settled out of court (meaning paid her to keep quiet). Why are you giving in if you didn't do it, Bill? That doesn't go along with what you spout off every night. Why not fight to prove the charges are false? Oh, yes of course, you know you did it,

Yeah,this guy should be telling kids how to live their lives. What is more likely the case is that any kid who's friends find out they have this book is getting severely beaten on a daily basis.

I know this is old news, but I just saw the book the other day and it pisses me off that people would give this to their kids, thereby turning them into partisan assholes at an early age. It should be considered a form of child abuse. So should those "Chicken Soup for the ______'s Soul" books. You wouldn't believe the segments that those books have been made for.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Oh yeah, and by the way, our president, who is a multi-millionaire, is a stingy fuck.

Drrrrr, I'm a such a hypocrite.

I made such a terrible mistake today. This has only happened to me a few times, and every time it does, it carries a sting of failure and regret.

I woke up at 7:15 this morning for work. I don't have work until 7:30 tonight.

I have to be up early tomorrow. Not today. So basically I wasted last night by going to bed early, and let 5+ hours of sleep slip through my fingers this morning.

Speaking of work, yesterday they (they being Barnes and Noble) have me in the back room doing receiving for this week. As I'm opening up boxes, I see a book from a series called 'Gossip Girl', and the name of the book was Because I'm Worth It.

I believe that title sums up what is wrong with people today.

Everyone walks around thinking they are something special, that "they are worth" whatever they want. No, you are not. Maybe this is why there is so much divorce these days. Everyone thinks that if you are not completely satisfied in every facet of your life, that you owe it to yourself to make yourself happy, no matter the cost. Bullshit. No one can suck it up anymore. You're not worth anything. What makes you 'worth it'? Get over yourself. It's all these shows like Sex and the City and Friends that show people doing whatever they want to fulfill whatever want they have right at this moment, regardless of the consequences. Oh, you're not happy with your man because [add ridiculous, unimportant characteristic here]? Well, then it's only right to get rid of him and find a new man, because things weren't prefect, and you're worth it; you deserve perfection.

Blow it out your ass.

And most of the time the girls who believe this garbage are the most flawed, the most difficult to please and to be around. Why are you a bitch? "Oh, because I'm worth having things be absolutely perfect. If it's not, then it's not worth my time."

Because you're worth it. Give me a break. The only thing you're worth is the battery charge I'll get for slamming you across the face.

Now you might be saying to yourself, "Girls aren't the only ones who do that. Guys want perfection just as much as girls do." True, but the fact is that guys are incessantly criticized, and rightfully so, for being shallow perfectionists. Guys don't fight the "Men are Pigs" label because they know it is true. The problem I have is that when women do it, they hide behind a mask of either a) crying nonstop until someone comforts them to shut them up, thereby getting whatever they want, or b) playing shallowness off as some mystic expectation you have of life as being this vision you've had since you were a little girl, and you don't want to settle for anything less because somehow you think you deserve it.

Girls have it figured out. They are just as shallow as guys, yet they have this "The Woman Is A Beautiful Creature, and Therefore Can Do Whatever She Wants" card that they can play. For guys, if you do the exact same thing, you are an asshole.

Well the jig is up, ladies. I'm on to you. I found the secret plans. They were right next to the papers showing that menstrual cycles are a fraud, and that the only reason we all think they are some painful, uncomfortable ordeal is because all women have agreed to keep the illusion alive.

I know this kind of went in like five different directions, but I don't care. Every point I made is true.

Sabbatical

I haven't posted since I got home, not really for any reason other than I couldn't work up the energy to actually sit and writesomething down. Sue me, I'm lazy.

So far the break has been pretty mediocre. Not exciting, not boring. Just 'Eh.' It is nice to have time away from classwork, though. Mostly what I've been doing is playing videogames, working, watching movies, and burning DVDs.

Have to back up to Oneonta in about two weeks. I'm not looking forward to an advanced composition class or public speaking.

That's really it.

Maybe I'll do a Dave's December in review post. But not right now. I'm too bored.

Just Phoning It In

Free At Last

This is how you feel when you finish all your
finals for the semester.

...And You Know We Don't Give A Fuck If It's Your Birthday...

This is something that has bothered me for quite some time. I find it is much more prevalent in girls, but there are some guys who suffer this annoying disorder. I, of course, am talking about what the French call C'est mon anniversaire que j'ai besoin d'attention constante, or the Birthday/Attention Disorder.

This is when someone you know has their birthday coming up, and they demand that everyone they know make a big deal out of it. They need people to call, send them flowers, send them cards, carry them around on their shoulders so they don't have to walk, and so on.

Who cares about your birthday? So what. You have one every year. Why do you think you deserve preferential treatment because you popped out of a vagina on that day however many years ago? I mean, the stuff with family is permissible, like going out to dinner or something, but who the hell do you think you are they you expect your friends to lavish you with everything under the sun? My friends and I don't even know each other's birthdays. And even if we do, we don't care. No presents. No cards. No balloons, or cakes, or streamers. SOME of us go to work and do things we don't want to on our birthday, and actually treat it like it's any other day.

"It's your birthday. Good for you."

That's all you need. Why do you think you deserve nonstop praise? Give me a break.

The worst is when something doesn't go their way on their birthday? I've noticed this mostly in girls; they sit there, hysterically crying, saying, "And it's my BIRTHDAY!!!! Everything is supposed to go perfect on my birthday!!!! WAAAAAA!" I remember watching The Real World once, and it was when Sept. 11th happened, and it was the girl's birthday, and she has the fucking nerve to say, "Why does this have to happen on MY birthday?" Are you serious? What the hell is wrong with you. And sadly, I think if most people were put in this situation, they would react the same way.

Shut up. Are you three years old? Deal with it. Maybe if you were a rational human being, you could handle the slightest thing going wrong on 'your day.' Take off the stupid crown that says Birthday Girl. Nobody cares.

On a completely different subject, I don't think Gary Puckett and the Union Gap get nearly enough praise or airplay on classic rock stations.

The Best and Worst of 2004

I realized when I came up with the idea of this that it's hard for me to remember all the way back to January. I'm going to do my best to make sure I don't leave anything out.

5 Best Things About 2004

5. Yankees Didn't Win the World Series - It's such a good feeling to know that all these annoying, fake ass Yankee fans were once again denied the chance to yell "27 CHAMPIONSHIPS, BABY!!!! WOOOO!!!" Really, with they way they restructure every off-season, and the way they pillage teams like Norsemen, you should except nothing less. And, add to the fact that it was the Red Sox, you had so many Yankee fans left with only one thing to say: "Yeah, well, uh......26 WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS, BABY!!!! WOOOO!!!"


4. Grilled Cheese Videos - Hopefully we will get them online sometime. These things were so fun to make, and it's awesome that everyone likes them. I just kind of find it weird that of all things to catch on, it would be movies about grilled cheeses. It just proves people will buy into anything.

3. Quizno's -They opened one up right near my house over the summer. I have probably spent about $300 dollars since then on the near-perfect Chicken Carbonara. I have never eaten a sandwich like this before. You just have to make sure they put it through twice. I sometimes get tempted to start a franchise of this place. I really think anywhere you put it. It would make so much money, like the Arab who owns this new one. For the rest of the summer, you couldn't go there between 12 and 2:30, the lines would seriously be out the door.

2. Metal Gear Solid 3 - I have waited three long years to find out who the Patriots are. And although I am not totally content with what I found out, I am still glad they came out with a game with such great gameplay, and the classic Metal Gear storyline. Throw in the mother of all boss battles, which I still defy someone to beat it in under an hour. I just don't believe it can be done. I love those games so much. It doesn't get any better.

1. The Establishment of "oan" - This has changed my life. Who knew some random babble between me and Jackobel on the way home from white water rafting would turn into what it has become. I can't even go home anymore without our insane dialect creeping up on me and just jumping out of my mouth whenever I speak to anyone. I tip my hat to you, Carl Johnsoan. Jeffersoan. Clintoan. Nixoan. Madisoan. Washingtoan. Lincoan. Wilsoan. Hamiltoan.

5 Worst Things About 2004

5. Working at Tuesday Morning - This place sucked so bad. I figured working near the place where the rest of my friends worked would make for a less boring day, the fact that it was 2 seconds from my house meant that I could get up for work 5 minutes before I had to get there, and besides, who goes to Tuesday Morning? There can't be that much to do, right? EEEEEENNNNNNHHHHH. Wrong. Try unloading 900 boxes at 8 in the morning when it is 80 degrees out, leaving work to go to math class, then coming back to open all the boxes at breakneck speed. Then have a boss breathing down your neck asking you when all the boxes will be opened and how she used to do the same job by herself in one day. Bullshit. Your niece is a lesbian. If you were so skilled at it, why did you hire ME to do it? You wander around the store all day, and you're going to ask me why I'm not done opening a pile of boxes literally 11 feet high that all came from India and are all wrapped in Styrofoam and have bugs in them that look like they're from Total Recall? Get the fuck out of here. How about I just stop showing up? Keep your big lesbo workforce. Get them up at 7 to sweat their fallopians off. I don't need you and your shitty pay.

4. Taking Intro to Business - Dr. Walsh, it is not possible for me to memorize every single paragraph in 350 pages worth of material. And thanks by the way for giving us quizzes every week. And thanks for having a 2 1/2 hour class that you give us no break because you'll 'let us out early'. Oh, and I really appreciate you giving us 6 possible essay questions with 2 going to be on the final and we have to do both? I really am happy I am wasting my time memorizing 4 essays that I won't even need. What kind of teacher are you? Who says straight off, "I make my tests intentionally hard,"? Why would you do that? What pleasure do you get out of it? If you know its hard, why leave it that way? Do you think we have nothing else going on in our lives than to recite the three great economists and the pros and cons of a sole proprietorship (ease of start-up, possible tax advantages, secrecy, but unlimited liability, lack of management skills, and lack of continuity)? Thanks for making this semester awful.

3. Dolphins Sucking for the First Time in my Life - The Dolphins have been good for as long as I have been alive. They have always been a decent/contender franchise. But thanks to Ricky Williams, tons of injuries, and lack of a quarterback, nick knack paddy-whack, they have only won two games this season. Isn't Florida allowed to have at least one good team?

2. Ashlee Simpson Somehow Becomes Famous - This makes me so mad. When I first show the show, I said to myself, "If this stupid, superficial, trying-too-hard dumbass becomes popular, it will prove to me once and for all people will suck up anything television throws at them." 3 million albums later, I now know people are 100% ruled by TV. First off, she acts like the gayest fucking person to ever live--her way of being a 'rebel' and 'outrageous' and 'wacky' consists of her making faces and doing voices. Don't believe me? Watch the damn show, but think about "Why do people think this girl is fun?" when you watch it. All she does: make goofy faces, talk about how punk she is, and sing so off key I actually laughed when I saw it. Come on, everyone, you know she can't sing for shit. Really. I mean, listen to her finished product; the tracks off her album even sound bad. State of the art technology could not make her into a better singer. You know who I blame this on? Her father. This guy must sit at Satan's left hand. He's her manager, the executive producer of her and her sister's show, et cetera et cetera. This guy is using his daughters as a pension plan. What an asshole. I bet if a sex tape with either one of them on it comes out, he'll be involved. Whore your daughters to the mass media all for some money. Fucking prick. Speaking of pricks....

1. Bush Wins - There's nothing left to say about this. I still get these waves of fear when I think about the fact he will be in office until I am 25. With this guy at the helm, I will have a lot worse things in my "Worst of..." in the years to come.

The World Makes Another Assassination Attempt on my Happiness

If this happens, I don't know what I will do:

Marlins meet with Las Vegas mayor

Seriously. This is fucked up.

It would be like if they got rid of the Hartford Whalers.

I will have a breakdown if it becomes reality. No joke. A breakdown.

Detrimental to Society Beach

I hate that so Laguna Beach so much. Its on right now. It inspired me to write this.

Have you ever seen it? It is the biggest piece of MTV, young-rich-kids-are-great masturbation I have ever seen. The basic premise is like 6 kids who live in Laguna Beach, CA. That's it. They just film these kids doing shit. But not realistic shit. The episode I'm watching now is about what these kids are doing on summer vacation.

What are they doing, you ask? Working jobs? Taking classes? No, no , no, that's really not hip. They sit on the beach. All day. The surf, and wear $500 sunglasses, skateboard, and drive around in thirty thousand dollar cars.
Right now they are sitting in a jacuzzi. All the girls and guys look alike. All of them have those gay trucker hats on, and gay clothes. It looks like an Abercrombie commercial. Like all giggling, and the guys acting 'silly' by making a stupid face, and tickling each other and shit. This one kid used rad, stoked, and amped, literally in one sentence. It makes me mad at the world.

This is not real life. They should show these kids working. No, lifeguarding is not a job. A real job, where you have to deal with the public all day long. All kids like this are lifeguards. I bet if you like this show, you were probably a lifeguard at some point.

The show has a lot of 'drama'. Please. Yeah, of course if you have everything, and do not have to work for anything, the only way you can occupy yourself is to magnify tiny fights with your friends into the four Horsemen of the apocalypse riding into town on horses with armor. Base an entire episode on some guy's girl like not talking to him for a few days, because he said that his friend liked her when he knew that the girl his friend liked didn't like him and liked his brother and then when his friend who liked the girl asked the girl who she liked and she said she didn't know and then Tracy heard that she was going to go to the dance with Alex and they already put a deposit down on a limo and didn't even ask Karyn if Ted had Sam's Jenny Mark Todd Brittany. That's all that this show is about.

They also have the gayest names in creation. WOW! You're names Talan!!! Like a hawk's talon but spelled different! Your name is Lo! What the fuck is that! You know their parents did so much cocaine in the 80s its not even funny.

And there are some girls I know (who will not be named because if someone found out they watched this show they'd have a scarlet letter sewed to their clothes and cast out of town), who follow it so much, they were saying things like "Can you believe Lando is taking the top guy spot of the group, and Chrissy is taking the head girl spot from Allison?"

Seriously, if you watch this show, you must hate your life. Its not even that they do interesting stuff, it's just typical petty infighting bullshit.

Read a book, or run a lap, or something. Anything other than this. Throw bleach in a friend's eyes. It will be less painful.


I hate all of you so much.

Hit the Nail on the Head

Auto response from silvamania (1:01:18 PM): I hate these kind of profiles....

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College Has Become So Monotonous

Finally finished our video project. Well received by the class. Big laughs for the sex scene and the drive-by.

Finally finished last Monday class schedule, and last Intro to Business class.

But I still have to take finals.

The next week and a half is going to be full of studying. I'll post when I can, probably when taking some time out to relax.

This page is getting stale with no updates. I don't want that to happen.

If you are bored, and it is between 8pm and midnight EST, go here to turn some guy's Christmas lights on and off on his house.

December 7th, 1941 - a date which
will live in infamy...

Busy editing and preparing for finals all weekend. Post if I can.

I want to be done with my Intro to Business final so bad I can't even describe. It's the 500-lb. gorilla on my back right now.

Focus On Doing Your Show, Lisa P.

Auto response from Fantom05 (2:01:34 PM): why cant anything EVER go smoothly?

WONY Request (2:01:34 PM): becasue you are dave abra,s. put THAt in your blog! :-

Shut up you whore.

The Missing Link(s)

Two things that made me laugh my ass off today:

Fuck Yeah!

and:

eBay bidding

Nobody would be this dumb, excpet for someone who's name was nascarfan82088