School?

English is NOT the primary language of my Econ professor. This isn't really a big deal, I can understand almost everything she says, but sometimes things come out strangely hilarious.

"I am giving extra homework, but is not because I am bitch"
"If you get bad grade, do not think "I am worthless, I now hang myself""

I was recently told that a classmate of mine badmouths me to my other classmates before I get there. Specifically, that I am "Arrogant and Condescending". I don't know what I did to incur this persons malice towards me, but now that I know it is there, I am not sure what to do about it. Does he hate me because I am better looking? Better dressed? Or just because I am more likely to go to heaven (assuming it exists), as well as stronger, faster, funnier and more popular? In any case, I have no CLUE why he would call me arrogant. None. Condescending though? Yeah, I probably shouldn't pat people on the head and say "oooooh you adorable little person, good try" and then scratch behind their ears whenever they make mistakes... gotta WORK on that, damn. Hees got me there.

We got our bathroom door replaced today, it was about the equivalent of replacing a dropped ice-cream-cone with an entire Baskin&Robbins. The frame was being held on with duct tape, and split in two pieces every time you closed it, making a sound like a distant giant snapping tree trunks in two (you know how giants are, no courtesy for their neighbors). NOW, however, that sweet baby closes like a charm, and there is NO duct tape in sight. I'm moving up in the world.

I watched House last night, dang good show. Lie To Me though? cmon, multiple personalities is totally lame. That was the least entertaining episode I've seen of the show yet, It was BARELY more fun than doing *shudder* homework. Whats the point?

I want it to be friday...

Best weekend ever.

That is all.

Video Games

Recently, the subject of video games has been coming up in my day-to-day life with increasing frequency. Just a few hours ago, I was walking behind two women in their late 50's or early 60's, and being the total creeper that I am, I had no moral qualms about listening in on their conversation.

Grey Hair: ... and it is quite frustrating
White Hair: I know! I am sitting on a pile of nukular* missiles, and throwing rocks at a tank!
GH: That happens to me too, I never want to use my big guns because I might need them later
Me: (thinking)... WAIT A SECOND, I've heard this all before!

http://www.escapistmagazine.com/videos/view/zero-punctuation/231-Mercenaries-2

*Dad, if you read this, I misspelled Nuclear on purpose.

I ASSUME that these women were talking about video games (otherwise... they are terrorists? should I call someone?) but since when do sweet old ladies play games where the objective is to burn everything in sight? I thought old(er) people only played Wii fit and solitaire. When did this happen? I am not sure whether to think "Yeah! you go old ladies!" or "wow... one of my hobbies is enjoyed by people whose only other interests are games of bridge and scolding hoodlums"

I'm sitting in the library typing this up, and I haven't eaten in about 3 years. The guy sitting right next to me is eating ribs. RIBS. In the LIBRARY. It is confirmed: The gods are tormenting me. for cereal.

Scribblenauts is a game I have been hearing a lot about recently. Basic Idea: You type in a word, and the thing you typed appears and does your bidding. I have yet to play it, but supposedly you could summon a giraffe to lift you to the top of a building, and a squad of animal-masseuses (spelled right in one try, holy shit) to placate said beast into happiness/obedience. A guy sitting next to me in a hallway was playing the game with an audience the other day, and he said (quote) "I should make God fight Darwin!" to the raucous agreement of his entourage.

What is the world coming to? Also, will I ever stop sitting in hallways?

Anything you can like...

I bought bread, so I am adding Peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches into my meal rotation of Ramen -> Oatmeal -> Ramen -> Trail Mix -> Ramen -> Squirrel. I am now truly eating like a King.

It turns out I am NOT the only soul in existence that does not care for coffee. go figure. Also, my track record of terrible venue choice continues unobstructed.

Had a job interview, but the hours don't work out. Why did they ask me in to interview for a job that has 50+ hours a week, when I clearly indicated I could only work part-time? Why? The gods toy with me.

Some people are of the opinion that popular = lame, and obscure = amazing. You know these people. It is very likely that some of you, dear readers, ARE these people. This is what I mean. Someone says to you "Man, I love Styx" and you say "I only listen to independent artists, anything mainstream is shit". Someone says "I like Old Chicago" and you say "There is this place in Denver that only seats 5 people at a time, I waited outside for three hours and drop kicked a pregnant mother of two to get in. AMAZING appetizers."

Maybe I like Bleach cause it has like, big swords and explosions and demons and cat-people and a little kick-ass pervy stuffed lion thingy, NOT cause everyone else likes it. Maybe I eat at Chipotle because the chicken burritos are the edible form of joy. Ever consider this? Why do people feel the need to tell me that THEIR thing is better than MY thing?

Why am I required to justify my love of sloths? They are the best animal ever people. Cmon.

Swine Flu

On Monday, I was sitting in a hallway, waiting for a class to get out,* when a man sat directly across from me. He was sweating profusely and breathing heavily, and smelled like he had not showered in days. I will now refer to him as Mr. Bob. I have a great desire to end the post here, just to post one paragraph for once. I will not.

*I spend more time sitting in hallways than I do eating, sleeping, and studying combined.

I heard a sound like a camel with a dozen railroad spikes lodged in its throat trying to yodel. It was so startling (no exaggeration here) I yelped in surprise, only to realize that the sound had come from Mr. Bob's gullet. I looked up, and he was sitting motionless, calmly sweating away and making no indication that he had produced any such sound. I watched a moment longer, and he wiped his nose with his hand, and then after keenly scrutinizing the results, wiped the mess onto his pants. I was appalled. He continued to cough in myriad ways (hacking, wheezing, wet-sounding and dry-sounding), but began to sneeze, and sniffle as well.

I moved to a different hallway.

Miyazaki's Mononoke Review

About 2 weeks ago, my japanese teacher suggested that watching a few of Miyazaki's movies might help me learn japanese, because they are entertaining, and make good use of the language. I obviously couldn't say no, since it was CLEARLY a direct command, and I didn't want to be rude. I quickly managed to find Howl's moving castle and Spirited Away Online, but my teacher had specifically recommended Princess Mononoke. Even though I tried my hardest, I simply could not locate it for free anywhere. after hours of painstaking search, and many less-than-pleasant discoveries, I finally decided to admit defeat, and just buy it, and so the story begins.

(side note - I think there is something wrong when you find Jack Sparrow/Will Turner yaoi hentai on accident with every stray keystroke, but cannot find a 15 year old movie (about animals and princesses!) on purpose)

I went to target to buy it, but the only copy they had said only had "English and French Language Tracks" listed on the back. Obviously, the merits of buying a movie to learn Japanese are somewhat lessened, when that movie is available only in french. I avoid the french language (and france in general) like its a baseball headed for my crotch and I'm not wearing a cup, and I was CERTAINLY not going to spend 17 dollars on a movie only to find that I couldn't turn the frogspeak off. (I don't actually hate France, but when I need a solid joke, I can always look to the French people to supply one with their ridiculous actions and hilariously depressing history)

I decided to try and find it online, and make sure it was in my language of choice. I found it on amazon for 11 bucks, then went ahead and ordered it, counting down the days until its arrival. there were nine of them. The days. till its arrival.

In the meantime, I had to amuse myself by watching the first 23 episodes of "Rurouni Kenshin" online. I tried my hardest to watch "Babylon 5", but even with my unhealthily rabid fandom for sci-fi... the pilot episode was so awful I couldn't force myself to even finish it. I was afraid that someone might break into my room to rob and murder me, and upon seeing what I was watching, laugh hysterically and leave to find a less pathetic victim to persecute. Babylon 5 might just be the worst thing I've ever watched, with the obvious exception of "Where The Heart Is". Moral of the story: Just cause its on HULU does NOT mean its ok to watch it. Even if you think no one will ever find out... God will know, dear reader. And... You will know. you. will know.

after a long and arduous process of watching various free entertainments, I finally get the email from amazon saying "Your package was delivered today at 9:34 am!"

I glance at the clock

10:46

I walk outside, and find no package outside my door. I called my property manager, thinking perhaps there was a special place for larger deliveries. Nothin. I finally realized I had shipped it to my previous address! it was waiting for me at Hallett hall. I road my bike there, uphill, dodging flaming arrows to find that...

When Hallett received the package for Zach Giardini, They knew there was no Zach Giardini living there (obviously, a man with a name THAT awesome would never live in such a place) They then sent it to my previous address, in Baker Hall.

I went to baker, to find that the package room was closed, and would reopen the next day at 4. Seriously?

Come back at 4 the next day, after tossing and turning in anticipation the whole night, get the package. I was forced to eat sir robins minstrels. there was much rejoicing.

So I get home and FINALLY, open the long, long anticipated parcel. It was the exact same DVD I had seen at target. Shucks. anyhow, Here is my review.

its 'aight.

George Martin

I was sitting in my room, contemplating possible distractions from homework, when I glanced at my bookshelf and saw the "Fire and Ice" series, sitting there. I quickly remembered what great books they are, and why I like them so much. I considered starting up the first book again, but then stopped myself, remembering "Oh yeah, the story isn't finished yet."

George martin released the first book in the series, "A game of thrones" back in 1996. Sometime around the year 98~99, my Dad bought me this book for... unremembered reasons. Basically, I devoured it. Its a solid read, interesting characters, unusual story, all kinds of crazy political shit goes on... Its great. So were the next 3 books in the series, each released about a year and a half apart, with the last one, "A feast for crows" coming out in 2005. The next book was supposed to come out in 2006. It did not. In fact, it is still not out.

2005. thats nearly 5 years ago. five. years. The series is not finished. it has FOUR BOOKS LEFT IN IT. And I want to see what happens to the Starks, and Tyrion, and Jon Snow. For five years. what the hell. In any other area, would a FIVE YEAR WAIT be acceptable? and I'm not talking about buying broncos season tickets here.

Just to put this into perspective... since the last book was released;

The TV show "Star Trek: Enterprise" was pitched, produced, casted, aired 3 seasons and canceled.

George bush was elected for his second term, served it, and was replaced by Obama.

A monkey with a typewriter reproduced the lifetime works of Williams Shakespeare and Hung

Lets say I am giving a presentation on a method to end world... bad thingy. I get about halfway through, and then say to the gathered leaders of the world "Ah, could you all wait here for just a moment? I want to go buy an egg, incubate it, hatch the chicken, raise it, and then slaughter it for my dinner next spring. BRB AFK"

This is madness. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENSZZZZZ. But I can't. He is too busy turning the story into a show for HBO. in fact, Georgy boy is far, FAAAAR too busy. Doing... god knows what. Taking up the zither? wearing 1920's sailor caps? contemplating existence while stroking his massive... Van-de-kamps beard?

Check out this dudes website.

http://www.georgerrmartin.com/

He is making the book series into a video game. due out in 2011. I WILL BET $5 WITH ANYONE, RIGHT NOW, THAT THE VIDEO GAME COMES OUT BEFORE THE NEXT BOOK.

Takers?

P.S. - Am I right about the dudes beard or what? Is he trying to be a Scottish nobleman or some nonsensical crap? I bet the ladies love it.

P.P.S. - Yes, I am totally jealous of the beard. when I am old, and disappointing thousands worldwide every day, I want my beard to look half that good.

Events

While waiting for the class before me to let out, two guys sitting near me and I were intently watching a beetle scurry about in the middle of the hallway. As the untold multitudes of semi-educated persons left the classroom, we were all surprised when no one stepped anywhere near the critter. after about half of the ~300 people had left, we were all watching, jaws dropped, as the beetle managed to avoid foot after life-extinguishing foot, a ninja of the insect world, seemingly untouchable with its nigh precognitive dodging skill. He was scurrying in elaborate and increasingly frantic zig-zag patterns, several times coming so close to expiration that I was sure that I would be holding a tiny memorial service any moment. I swear I saw him backflip over a croc and then wall run along a sketcher, acrobatic feats worthy of a bug with Jackie Chan like agility. Just when it seemed that his survival was assured... disaster approached in the form of a vile, murderous witch of a girl. Just to glance upon her despicable cell-phone-holding form was to glimpse into the depths of hades itself. She shook the very earth beneath her with her pachyderm-esque gait... rather than walk in a straight line, she tap danced in a sweeping pattern from left to right, occasionally hopping in place or backtracking, seemingly intent on crushing anything and everything before her into utter oblivion. As the destroyer drew closer, I glanced in trepidation at the ninja bug, fearful that he had finally met his match. He tried to dash left, with no success. He juked right, but the girl trod onwards, seemingly taking no heed of his spirited evasive maneuver. In desperation, he tried to ricochet his tiny form off the floor and into the air, to avoid the deadly co-ed... but instead sprained a limb due to the complexity of the daring move. As he lay motionless on the floor, It became clear to both of us that his fate was sealed, that there was no escape from the menace that drew ever nearer. I made eye contact with the brave, stoic beast, and nodded a final farewell, just as the demonic presence clad in Uggs put out the spark of his valiant life.

Bug-from-the-hallway-of-Hale... You will be missed.

By the way, there MAY have been some slight elaboration. I'm avoiding homework. sue me.

Xbox

These are 100% real, undoctored message correspondences I've had through XBOX live

From XxPhilDaKillaxX, after a game of Call of Duty
Pk - Pray and spry bich
Me - um... I'm sorry?
Pk - use a rel gun not a (expletive) ppsh get some skill (expletive) noob
Me - Get some skill? I could try learning the Violin, I hear that's tough. Or stone-masonry... good for the arms. Is there something particular you were recommending?
Pk - wtf you (expletive) jst stop being so gay and actaully aim
Me - But I can't help being so happy to play call of duty with you, friend!
Pk - omg you suck

From diabolicalshrew after a game of Soul Calibur
DS - omfg you noob stop spamming lows (expletive) spammer.
Me - Maybe you could try blocking once in a while instead of using ->Y over and over... however, your point does have SOME validity. Perhaps if you agree to a rematch, I can spam high and beat you?
DS - wtf screw you im reporting your cheating ass
Me - A shame. good luck with ->Y comrade. FOR THE MOTHERLAND

From x0xMalcomRenoldsx0x after Halo III
MR - Dude you suck ass, I (expletive) killed you 11 times and you only got me once. Just give up loser. You must have toothpicks jammed in your eyes to suck that much.
ME - You are mistaken. There was a secret objective to see who could get the most consecutive deaths in a row. I kicked your ass man. No contest.
MR - Dude wtf?
ME - Yeah. Better luck next time noob. I'll destroy you every single time.

Da baaaars

Something I have not often commented on publicly (lack of a proper forum perhaps being a valid reason) is my dislike of a certain night-time activity popular in my social circle.

Going out to to "The bars" (as this phrase is uttered, you can actually see glee and satisfaction manifest physically and drip down the speakers chin, pooling into a puddle on the floor.)

Now don't get me wrong. I am all for social interaction. Ask me any time of the week if I want to go play some pool, or ultimate, or halo, or dwarf-tossing, and there is only one answer you will receive. I am by no means a recluse (brown, or otherwise.) However, when someone asks me to go to "the bars" (their rabid eyes glowing with an eerie inner fire while rolling upwards into their skulls) warning lights go off in my head.

Ah, is this going to be a pleasant evening of humorous conversation, perhaps mingled with drunken attempts to scale tall buildings in a single bound and a heated game of tic-tac-toe? Perhaps ending in a enthusiastic Irish drinking song? OR... will this be a despicable night filled with shame and loathing, awash with that most horrible of human traditions... Dancing.

I cannot dance. I do not like to dance. I do not like to watch others dance. This is the ultimate trifecta of reasons why I avoid it like a STD. I can have... Mild fun, dancing in a circle of friends. As long as the circle stays a circle. As soon as some jack-ass decides "Hey, Im gonna be an ass and force everyone else to follow me into the circle!" I panic. Lets say I am 5th in line to "show my moves" like captain falcon.

Dude1: goes into circle, does some random breakdancey move

me: Shit. Crap. Shit. wtf am I supposed to do when Its MY turn?

Girl1: Pulling an invisible rope to her bff outside the circle (lucky bastard)

me: Crap. Thats not bad. I could do a move like that. The sprinkler!

Dude2: Does the mother F*&$@$ sprinkler

Me: ah... ah... ah... (hyperventilates)

However circles are still the very best kind of dancing that can EVER occur in a bar. God forbid people start pairing off, and... grinding each other. Sweet. Jesus. No. Here I am, dorkily dancing in peace... then out of nowhere OMG WTF WHY IS YOUR CROTCH ON HER LEG? WTF. LOL NO WAI (reference)

When this situation occurs, my only defense is to curl into the fetal position and rock myself back into sanity. The wounds I sustain from being trampled by the inebriated, writhing masses I can later show proudly as battle scars to my grandchildren. "See here sonny, I got this one back in '09, when a wee gel* rubbed 'er ass against me at The Foundry... 50 men went into the ba'... 19 men came outta the ba'... and not a one of 'em can speak o' the day."

*I have no idea what accent this is supposed to be. I think... Scottish sheepherder/British Pleb?

In conclusion... the next time I am invited to go to "The Bars" by a hypersalivating friend, the words seeming to bring a sense of euphoria every time they are uttered... I will still go, (fo' sho') But I will be much more cautious of that disgusting menace, that destroyer of purity... The dance floor.

Drivin'

When I was a but a wee lad, I had a terrible habit of falling asleep in the car. Even on extremely short drives (less than 5 minutes) and after getting a full nine hours of sleep, I would nod off almost instantly once the car had started, without any kind of warning. I would only realize that I had slept because suddenly the car stopped.

This childhood habit is one of many that carried over into my semi-adulthood. Even more unfortunately... It doesn't seem to matter whether I am the driver, or passenger of the vehicle. This leads to situations like the following;

driving down a road - Ah, Look at the clouds. How pleasant they are.
right turn - Hmm what do I want for lunch...?
going straight - ...
looks up - umm why am I driving half on the curb?

One time while on the highway, I looked up only to realize that the side of my car was UNDERNEATH a semi truck, the driver of which was honking furiously and swearing out his window while being forced well off the side of the road.

I now pound energy drinks before, and during any extended journey, repeatedly bite my cheek, and pinch my inner-thigh to the point of bruising (side note: ouch) and deliberately DON'T use the restroom before I leave. It also helps to constantly cycle through radio stations, and sing at the top of my lungs with any and all songs I recognize.

About once a month I am obliged to travel to Colorado Springs to get my braces* tightened. This involves a 2 hour drive down the I25, fraught with peril and danger at every slow, gentle curve. On the most recent trip, A girl in a yellow civic was clinging to my bumper like it was a barrel going over Niagara Falls, clearly desiring that I change lanes. She passed me, then slowed down to 50 mph. I passed her. she got behind me, and road my ass like she was Jesus riding into Jerusalem. I changed lanes. You should be able to see where I am going with this. Rather than get annoyed by this process, I was thrilled that I had someone willingly entertaining me. It was disappointing when she eventually accelerated out of my sight, But since I saw her getting pulled over about 10 minutes later, all was well. I took a break from writing this to shave, and in my haste, put more gashes in my neck than there are anti-Obama demonstrators.

*Braces are wonderful things. Not only do they make me look 5 years younger, and impair the eating process, they force me to take my life into my hands on a monthly basis in order to maintain their painfulness.

I hate my room

So, I have a pool outside my room. Today, a very attractive woman decided to sunbathe, aprox. 8 feet from my window. I managed to contain myself for about 30, minutes, but then finally caved in, and stood up to peek out my window. It was at this inauspicious moment, that she turned, and made eye contact with me. The events that followed this fateful meeting of gazes were horrible, shameful, and intensely embarrassing. I hope to never again replicate this experience as long as I live.

I hate the location of my room. How many guys in my position, Could manage to not even take ONE PEEK at an almost naked, very attractive woman lying down, literally at eye level, not even a dozen feet away? This is just not fair.

In other news, anyone know where I can buy enough bricks to fill in a 7'X3' window?