Why Can't I Just Feel Indifferent Anymore?

So I used to enjoy the thought I felt indifferent towards pretty much everything in the world. I just really didn't give that much of a shit about anything. I liked that. I could just walk around, and yet have no place in the world all at once. It was like I was hardly even there.

I'm still hardly where ever I am, but only because I rarely talk. And now I just get pissed at everything, mostly people. I can't stand the human race, as a whole. Like, you can break it down if you want, but I'm not going to do that. I don't have time to hate each sub-race, because I hate all of them.

It sucks. The only time I'm happy around people now is when I can make fun of them, usually in my head of course.

In my lit. class, our teacher often hands out things in class to read. And since it's a critical reading course, we read them out loud since everyone is much more likely to concentrate about something when you have 7 different people reading it. I find it hard not to completely understand the author's true meaning when I have to sit through my classmates reading out loud.

Now, like I mentioned, I don't talk. I could mean in class, which is true, but it's also true outside of class for the most part. So when we have to read in class, I don't look forward to it. Plus I usually sit in one of the rows up front, so I pretty much read every time we read as a class. It sucks, kind of.

There are a bunch of people that sit around me that I think are arrogant douchebags. Or we could call them know it all pricks. Either works. One guy, who fucking doesn't show up for like 3 classes in row and is upset because he can't get full credit for the work he missed. And he just so happened to miss the three classes where we had to turn in two papers and took an test that is somehow doubling as a midterm I think. I'm confused. We had two papers due one day, the next class she wasn't there, but we had a sub or just a friend of hers come in and say we had a test. Oh well, fuck you guy.

Then there's the other kid who sits in his row who makes terrible jokes, then always turns around the rest of the class with a smile, except nobody found his joke funny. It would be sad, if I felt sadness for people other than celebrities. He does this every class, some days multiple times in class. He's another failed joke and turn around from throwing a pie in his face, standing up and dancing around, while crying and saying, "So guys, this is funny, right? You're laughing with me, right?" I kind of hope that happens, because I hope the stream of tears would clear out the pie covering his cheeks, so his face would have pie covering it except for those two (should I go with Trail of Tears here, or just say tear streams? Text 1 for Trail of Tears, or 2 for tear streams).

Well, it seems this has become long-winded. Anyway, while those two fuckers talk all class about their interpretations of whatever pro-feminism text we're reading, I secretly hope we get to read out loud too. You see, they can't read. Well they can, but they barely make it through a paragraph. They stumble on a few words a sentence, mispronounce things or just read words completely wrong. It's great.

I'm sure they don't care, and I know it's easier to read in loud opposed to out loud. By the way, can we start calling reading to yourself reading in loud from now on? I'm gonna.

But these guys just suck at reading. I'd be embarrassed for them if it wasn't the best part of my week. Yeah, that's how my life's going.

How about one more I hate someone in my class story? Alright, this one is a girl in my writing the review class. In that class I have someone I know from the newspaper, so I end up talking to him, but still not really out loud. We knew pretty early on we wouldn't like this girl because she was ugly. No, well, she is, but she's ugly on the inside too. We cut her open.

She always seems to bring her mother into her stories. She commutes to campus, so she still lives at home. Our first review was of a TV show we watched in class that was about to debut. Our teacher is a music critic for the local paper, so he got the TV critic to give him the DVD of the show, so we could watch it before it aired. The next week, or week after that, the show had premiered. It wasn't really that good, and I think most people felt that way, so none of us bothered watching it on TV.

Except this one girl, who watched it with her mother, because they "have a similar sense of humor." She then went through the episode and told us in detail about what differed from that version to the one we watched. She also told us what her mother found most amusing. Since then, she's told about a story a week involving her mother somehow. Whenever she says anything now, my friend from the paper, who sits next to me (or do I sit next to him?), always writes in his notebook, "but what did mom think?" Or some variation of that. Strangely, this hasn't gotten old yet.

For her movie review she went to the movie with her mother. She didn't really get it, thus we got a story about the conversation she had with her mother after seeing the movie before she wrote the review. We got a story about her boyfriend and her listening to the new Metallica CD, and deciding she couldn't review it, so then she went with the new Miley Cyrus one. Oh, how ironically hilarious. What? And you thought it sucked? No.

This past class we got two stories involving her sister. Or two stories involving her two sisters. We weren't sure. So now I'm just waiting on one from dad so my life will be complete.

But that's not all she does that pisses me off. She's also one of those people who feel the need to talk about things nobody has ever heard of. I don't dislike that at all, really. I like learning about new things. What I don't like is when those things are introduced by saying, "I bet nobody here has ever heard of this." That's when I go from, "Hmm, I'm interested," to "Hey, fuck you."

She's done this a few times. Either nobody has heard of whatever she's mentioned, or just didn't feel like raising their hand and possibly having to talk to her. I guess that's why I wasn't really suprised when she was the only person in the class to say they liked a review from Pitchfork that we read in class. Actually, we read two- one was really thorough and well done that most people liked, and the other was I guess what you'd call a more typical Pitchfork review, which the first six paragraphs talking about a time the reviewer fell off a merry-go-round, tried to get back on, but fell again and cut his/her hand, and how listening to this record took them back to that memory, with some Greek philosophy thrown in towards the bottom. She liked the second one.

We have to do an oral report on a critic of our choice. She went last class. She got up and said, "Okay, I bet none of you have ever heard of my critic." She named her, but I forgot the lady's name. No one reacted. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

She then rambled on for 10 minutes, I think it has to be about 3-5 at most, about her idol, who was a reviewer for Game Informer. The reviewer was her idol because she was a female, as is this girl. She mentioned the woman was her idol no less than five times.

Then the next guy to give his critic report also did a video game reviewer, and his report took all of 20 minutes, seriously. Everyone in the class, including the teacher, was bored out of their minds. Sticking with the theme of things that are unnecessarily long and really boring, are you still reading at this point? Really? I won't feel bad if you stop here. I would if I didn't feel the need to vent.

Anyway, he said some critical things about the gaming industry, which she took offense to. After his report he asked if anyone has any questions. Her hand shot up. "Yeah, what first-person shooters have you played." Everyone in the class exchanged looks of, "If you kill her, I'll back up your story." Nobody did.

They then talked about what games he's played, and other gaming inquiries of hers, for another 10 minutes. The teacher watched on, not even attempting to stop it. One girl in the back of the class shouted out, "Can you two just IM later?" I don't know if they did. Maybe they spoke over XBOX Live.

Anyway, I hate people. Sorry this was really long, but chances are you aren't reading this. I guess I could just say anything here and nobody would ever know would they? I won't, though.

Facebook Ads

I'll make a real blog post soon, but here's a quick one to re-establish the fact that I am a living human being who blogs.

I was just checking my Facebook this morning, and I noticed this ad:

This Ad: Best Headline Ever?

I'll come back at you guys with maybe a CMJ after-action report or something soon.  Until then, I love you.

Fuck that last post, Pittsburgh Rocks!

So how goes it non-Pittsburghians? Guess what, I don't care.

I thought I'd drop a line to let you all know how we do things in Pittsburgh.

Not sure if you've heard or read yet, but a McCain campaign volunteer was attacked in Pittsburgh last night, around 9 pm, because she had a McCain bumper sticker on her car. It's been widely reported she was mugged after going to an ATM, and then the robber, a black man, carved a "B" on her face. It shouldn't come as any surprise, though, as Obama has pretty much the full support of the Zorro fan club.

Now, there's a lot of speculation about whether or not this whole thing is real. Some of it doesn't seem to add up. For one, her Twitter page. Now, I've seen some Twitter pages, and I'm not entirely sure of the point. Now I do, though. It's to foreshadow attacks.

http://lifeinthefield.com/users/ashley-todd

Here it is. You'll see she was searching for a Bank of American ATM, so she wouldn't have to pay an ATM fee. I'm down with that. Those fees piss me off too. Next up, she's on the wrong side of Pittsburgh, uh oh! Next thing she knows, black guy.

It was also reported that she refused medical treatment and went to a friend's house. There are a bunch of other odd details about the story and such, that make it seem a bit fake. Like, for instance, that the "B" is drawn perfectly, except it's backwards.

Picture, now!




Now, one would think that if you're getting mugged and attacked and someone is carving up your face, you're going to, you know, move. Sqiurm. Juke. Jump. Fall. Twitch. Pass Out. Do something. But it would appear she didn't. She stood there and took it like she was getting her face painted, which it too kind of looks like. And you know, things are backwards in a mirror, so if you were so inclined to try and carve something into your face while looking in a mirror, it would come out backwards.

Okay enough.

No, not yet. Come on, what the fuck? Who calls him Barack? Most call him Obama, and an "O" is so much fucking easier to carve in someone's skin than a "B." Like what the fuck?

Okay, now I'm done. Except that it happened in Pennsylvania, a state McCain kind of really needs to win. But not just Pennsylvania, it happened in Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh!

I'm not going to say there's no way her story's not true. I'm sure there are plenty of people in the Pittsburgh area who would love to rob a woman who looked like that and give her a black eye. Of course it could've happened. And while it does seem fishy, let's just run with it.

Pittsburghers for Obama: We'll carve you up.

I mean, come on. This is great. Don't bring that McCain shit around here or we will take a knife and precissely carve the first letter of the presidential candidate we want to win the upcoming election's name in your face, backwards. I don't think I've been this proud to live here since we were named the have the dirtiest air of any city in the country.

Pittsburgh: Bring your surgical mask, leave your McCain button.

Probably best of all, it's almost Halloween. Hopefully this skilled cutter faces has a few pumpkins in his house. If he could carve that backwards "B" just imagine what he could do with a pumpkin.

Cleveland Rocks!

I was walking down the street earlier today when I realized I stepped on something. I didn’t see it in my path, otherwise I probably would’ve avoided it. I didn’t, and ended up stepping on it.

“Ouch,” it said.

I looked down, and saw it: a pocket-sized unicorn. I had never seen a unicorn before, so I can’t say if it was unusually small, extremely large or it’s normal size. All I know is that was pocket-sized.

I just so happened to be wearing a shirt with a front pocket today, so I lifted the horned creature and put it in my pocket. I was on my way to class, so she— it said its name was Samantha, so I guess it’s a she— and I went to history class.

“Oh, history!” she said. “I’m excited, I know very little about US History up until 1877!”

“Wow,” I replied, “how did you know what class I’m going to?”

“I’m a unicorn.”

I don’t really know why that added up, but it did. She stayed in my pocket and didn’t make so much as a peep during class. In fact, she was adorable. She took notes. What wasn’t so adorable is that my pen was too large and she didn’t have one, so she took a staple and cut the notes into her legs. That was odd, but she said she likes the pain. Oh well. I was afraid my pocket would get all bloody, but she licked up the blood. She said if you cut yourself, but lick up the blood than it goes back into your body and it won’t have any negative effects on your health. Cool!

After that I had a break in the day, so I went to the cafeteria for lunch. I opted for salad. Samantha said she’d just chew on her shoulder. I gave her some lettuce, though. She liked it, I think.

“So Samantha,” I said, “what are you doing in Pittsburgh?”

“Well, I was sent here for an important mission from unicorn headquarters.”

“What? There’s like three things in that sentence I’m quite curious about. First, unicorn headquarters?”

“Yeah, that’s where all the unicorns are made. It’s in Cleveland. We’re made when a horse has sex with a winged computer, and the only winged computer in the world is in Cleveland. Oh no! I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve said too much. I’m going to be punished now. I won’t get my lashings when I return, and I love my lashings oh so much.”

“Um, okay. How many unicorns are there?”
“You sound like you’re surprised. There are thousands of us, sent all around the world to do special missions.”

“What kind of missions?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you that. That would break out Super Secret Unicorn Code, which I kind of already did by telling you all that other stuff. But I most certainly can’t tell you about our secret missions.”

“I mean, can you give me a hint? Do you deliver stuff, or go help sick people or something?”

“I guess you could say it’s a mix.”

“Wow, sounds good.”

“Yeah, so where to next.”

“Another class. Sorry, it’s going to be boring.”

“That’s alright.”

So off we went. I marched down the street, confident for the first time ever. In my head I heard the Turtles “So Happy Together,” mostly because I was in love, but also partially because I always think of that song when I walk.

We were really happy together. I sat in class, bored. She sat in my pocket, cutting herself. All was good.

After class, I was on my way out of the building when I heard something coming from my pocket. It was her phone. The ringtone, in case you were wondering, was “Close to You,” by the Carpenters. It was awesome.

What wasn’t, however, was who called. It was her boss, the head unicorn. He, yes they make male unicorns, said she was running late and needed to complete her super secret mission now and return to Cleveland.

She said she needed to go, and before I could say goodbye she had flown away. I cried. I kept crying as I walked away. Most people walking on the sidewalk called me names. One asked if I was crying because my front pocket was all bloody. I took out my pocket knife and made him all bloody. I cut off my front pocket and rubbed it in his face. Hope I don’t have anything.

Just as I was about to enter my dorm building, I noticed Samantha behind a bush. I snuck up and watched. She was calling over a kitten. The kitty slowly walked over, opened its mouth, and Samantha flew inside. She then flew out, holding onto something. The cat dropped the ground.

“Samantha, what are you doing?”

“Adaham, no! You can’t see.”

“It’s too late. What are you doing?”

“Completing my secret mission.”

“And?”

“It’s the cat’s heart.”

“Why?”

“My master. He needs them.”

“What does a unicorn need a cat’s heart for?”

“He’s not a unicorn. He’s a plump, four-eyed man with a penchant for giving out points to people when they say something humorous while holding a prop or in song-form.”

“Your boss is Drew Carey?”

“Yes. He runs on cat hearts.”

What Did I Come Home To Tonight?

I've never walked in on anyone having sex: not a roommate, not my parents, not anyone. I'm not upset about that. In fact, I think I'm happy about that. Quite happy.

As of tonight, that still stands, but that doesn't mean I didn't come back from my night class tonight to see something else that disturbed me.

I'm walking towards my room. It sounds like someone in my room is yelling, but I'm in the hallway and that can be coming from pretty much any room, or another floor. I get closer to my door, and the yelling is louder. I press my ear against the door, and realize it's my roommate cousin. I can tell this because I hear his whiney voice yelling out "Come awwwwwn, negro," his signature catchphrase it seems. Anytime he says it I hear a studio audience howling in my head.

Anyway, I walk in my room and don't immediately see them. I walk past the bathroom, and see my roommate dancing, while his cousin stands shirtless next to him. I keep walking. Wait, what? Shirtless? Yeah, he was in just shorts.

Now I know they're close, but I didn't know they were that close.

It seems my roommate was cutting his cousins hair. Well, not cutting. He was giving him a "shape-up."

Anyway, they're pretty gay. If there's one group I now hate more than gays, it's black people. Sucks for me.

Check it out

Guess who has a midterm today, but isn't really studying for it? Me! Anyway, here's what I'm wasting my time with this morning. Fastforward to around 2:25-ish, otherwise it's just her signing, but after that it gets awesome.

Who's Ready for SD Posters?

Well friends, they're finally here. The first batch of SD posters! Hope you like. It's our first product! Check back in the next few weeks for the SD home pregnancy test. In the mean time, here they are.


















So, which is your favorite? Want to order one?

Also...

About a week ago, I went to a show, and the opening act was a guy in a unicorn costume screaming and mashing on a guitar without holding any of the frets down. Also, he changed into the costume in front of everyone, so if you were looking, you could see his cock-and-balls. Also, once he was in the costume, he had his junk hanging out the fly, so you could see it all the time. So if Loren Hamlin is ever coming into your area, now you know what to expect. Plan accordingly to bring either a two eye-patches, or binoculars (y'know, depending).

GO!

A couple days ago, I was eating an apple. I was walking to class, feeling kind of flu-ish, but enjoying the small amount of joy the food was bringing me. I was walking past a couple benches with students waiting to get into the lecture hall, with huge windows behind them, looking out onto campus.

Somehow, I lost control of the apple. It started jumping around, bouncing off my hands as I clumsily attempted to catch it out of the air. The struggle ended when I inadvertently smacked it away, smashing it into the window.

Honestly, I'm still not sure what happened, or how it happened. But now everyone sitting on those benches thinks I just start throwing apples willy-nilly all over campus. I think they imagine me to be some guy who just shows up, and apples start flying. Whenever I walk around campus, you can see fruit just erupting wildly in all directions, from my epicenter.

So, that's what I did this past week. How's it going with you, tic-toc?

Feedback Requested

I accidentally put my underwear on backwards today. I think by the end of the day, I'm going to try to take a shit with my underwear on. I may as well, right? When else am I going to have this kind of opportunity? More importantly, does anyone think I can pull this off?

Who Wants My Seed?

So I need to impregnate someone fast. Take that as a joke about me not lasting long in the sack if you'd like, but it's not.

I need a kid in less than two weeks; Halloween is coming up.

Every year around Halloween I spy on babies all cutely dressed up, and I want in. I need to share in the adorableness. And I need an in to getting me candy. But more of the cuteness. My family has a dog, but I wouldn't dress him up. That'd be gay.

But wanna know what's not gay? Wanting a daughter to dress her up like this...







But that seems to be for a child a little older than a baby. With a baby, though, I could do something like this...








Or this...





So what say you ladies. Want to make an adorable child and dress it up like a character from "Alien?"

ILLMATIC!

If I have my way, that headline will appear in my school's newspaper this year.

Our men's basketball team has a freshman on the team whose name is Nasir, the same first name as Nas, the rapper who released the album "Illmatic."

A few days ago the team held its media day, and one of the things handed out to us members of the media was a packet with some information about each member of the team. I was standing around with other people from the paper reading it over, learning things like who the team's barber is (Hint: He's a senior from Nanuet)

Anyway, we get up to Nasir, and it says one of his nicknames is Nas. Now, a few months ago when we were talking about the incoming freshmen, and he was brought up I made an "Illmatic" joke that got no reaction. Nothing. Just blank stares.

So I read out loud his nickname was Nas. We laughed. Then I said to my editor, "If he hits a game winning shot this year, or does something really spectacular, you know the headline of that article has to be 'Illmatic," right?" And oddly enough, the four people I was with, including the editor, all laughed. He even said "yeah," but I think he was joking around.

I then said, "No joke. It has to be Illmatic, and if has another great game the headline has to be 'Stillmatic.'" Once again, laughter.

I get the feeling they think I'm joking. I'm not. We were given this as a gift from God. S/He wants us to work an Illmatic reference into the headline. It must be. I mean, the kid has to play well, of course. If he doesn't play well enough to earn his own headline, I will do my best to work a reference to the album into an article I write.

It will be done.

It's a Battle!

So it's now officially a battle. I'm of course referring to my roommate and I.

I thought I had it in the bag, but he's making a surge here to determine which of us is the biggest loser. I mean, he started off the year going out every Friday and Saturday night. And he usually wouldn't leave until after 11! Shit, if I went out I'd be back by 11.

Then he started going out on Thursday nights too. I have no idea where he went. It could've just been to some other dudes room to play cards and watch "In Living Color" DVDs. I don't know.

Then he started only going out once a weekend, the other nights staying in to do work and such. Gay.

And finally, I don't think he's gone out at all the past few weekends, sans last weekend when he visited a friend in Philly. But that's out of Pittsburgh, thus it doesn't count. His last 3, maybe 4, Pitt weekends have been spent in the room. To top it off, tonight he was asleep by 10:30.

Now, I think I'm a pretty big loser myself. Tonight I went and saw the "Squonk Opera" play a concert in the park. I mean, they weren't really an opera, but still.

So I think we're neck and neck right now. Although this week I got to cover an NBA game for the paper, so I might actually be winning. For now. Stay tuned...

Youtubeitivity!

So it seems that Youtube posting is the hot new trend here on SD. Well, I've seen Dmur do it a few times, I aspire to be like him in both blogging and real life. He's my Michael Jordan, except if I wanted to be Michael Jordan as well as be inside of Michael Jordan.

Whoa, this blog got off to an odd start, huh? Yeah I don't really know where I was going so I just went and ended up there. I feel strange too. I also like this hot.pork fellow. My biggest crush is on Alabaster Spandex. Anyway, onto the videos.

Here is my favorite Youtube singer of all time. I enjoy watching people sing on Youtube, especially if they're attractive girls. This guy isn't, but he more than makes up for it. I think he might be retarded, or just foreign. Or both. Anyway, here's the video I first saw when I knew.



In the words of Biggie, and another one.



I kind of hate this one, but put it up anyway just because I like the picture. I'd prefer to see him, but it's a great picture. I just really like the No Doubt version, because I'm a faggot, so there is no way he's going to do that one any justice. Perhaps I'm including this one just so I can once again pledge my love for "Don't Speak." In fact, I'm going to listen to it right now.

But first...



Now the thing is, a lot of his comments are really positive and people saying he's great. I don't know if it's just me who thinks this is hilarious, or if nobody wants to make fun of the mentally challenged guy. If that's the case, and he is mentally challenged, well then I'll feel like an ass. A huge ass. But then I mean, I'll give him his due, maybe. I don't know. I think he's a very entertaining person to watch, even if he's no Gwen Stefani.

And for a bonus, here's a video of a singer who has a better voice, I guess. I never really watch his singing blogs. But then again, I don't ever watch his other blogs all the through because, well you'll see. Tell me if you make it through this. I still haven't.



Man, he's quite gay, no? I mean, in the words of Gob, come on!

Kick it!

Update- delayed

Of course. About 15 minutes ago the guy at the booth announced the plane from Newark was just leaving, and they expect it to arrive here by 9:45. So that's an hour after we were supposed to depart. Figure that plane will probably be late getting here, and then they have to refuel (hopefully) and clean it I suppose. I'm guessing I'm not on a plane until at least 10 tonight.

Staten Island girl was joined by a more obnoxious friend from Jersey. Figures. I could give details but I'm kind of tired and would much prefer to watch "The Simpsons," so that's what I'm going to do.

Lincoln out. For now.

Breaking News! It's Official...

I am a fag.

I was shocked to hear this.  My roommate showed it to me, and, though I have a hard time believing it, I kind of have to.  I mean, it's on YouTube, so it's gotta be true, right?

Well, I'm off to suck dicks.

Hey Folks

Hi everyone, coming live to you from Gate 77D at the International Steel Mill Airport here in Pittsburgh. I'm heading home for the weekend, but my flight doesn't leave until 8:45. I don't know when it boards, though.

I'm pretty sure it's gonna be delayed. I'm flying into Newark, and I don't know if I've ever not been delayed flying into Newark. Oh well. I don't really have anything to say. I was just wondering if the airport had wifi.

It does.

I should be doing some homework or something, but fuck that. I'm not sure what I enjoy less: reading Virginia Woolf, or reading a book inspired by Virginia Woolf and one of her books. Right now it's reading her, but we'll see.

A guy in a turban just walked by. I shat myself. A little.

There's a girl from Staten Island waiting for the same flight. I know this because I had nothing else to do, so I came to gate at about 7, and she was the only other person sitting there. She was on the phone, and was cursing a lot, so that was my first hint. She also looked a bit trampy. Hint two. Then she said she was from Staten Island while talking on the phone. Hint three. Maybe I can get close enough to smell her, and if she smells absolutely horrible, then I'll know for sure.

Hey, I was talking to Dave the other night, and I mentioned that I thought coffee smells like shit. He agreed, but he meant shit as in bad. I meant shit as in I think coffee literally smells like shit. So I guess this is addressed to hot.pork, but what say you on the coffee smelling situation?

Good Day folks. Unless I'm delayed for a while, then maybe I'll update again, cause this was totally necessary. You could just skip reading this one.

My Decent Into Racism

My roommate is two face. Technically, he's half black half white, but looks completely black. Which is fine. I mean, Black Panthers, rap music, Obama and all of that stuff.

I wouldn't say we're friends, though. We just live together. When we're in the room we talk. Never engaging stuff, but that's fine. I have you fine people(s?) to talk to when I want. We just bullshit. And it's fine.

But when he's on the phone with friends, or his cousin (who is also black) is in the room, he totally blacks it up. I don't know which one is the act, though. I mean, when we talk he speaks fine. Like if you just interviewed him, and you were kind of racist, you'd say he was articulate.

When he's on the phone, though, it's all "Boy you must be out your gotdamn mind," "[n-word ending in 'a']," "Psh, I need to cuts my shit. It's long as fuck," "Boy you must be out your gatdamn mind." I know I did that already, but he says it a lot.

See, I don't know. Do I know the real my roommate, or the fake my roommate. I mean, he could tell me I must be out my gotdamn mind. But he doesn't. He just pees with the door open a lot. And he shaves in the sink, but instead doesn't just turn on the water, he takes it out of the sink on a paper towel and then puts it in the toilet and doesn't flush it. And he takes shits and wipes with only one flush. I don't know how anyone else does it, but to me, if it's taking one flush something isn't right. Maybe I'm too cautious, though.

And his cousin is making me [more] racist. I just can't really stand him. I mean, he's always nice to me, sort of, but I hate when he's in the room. I know I already brought it up a few weeks ago, but I swear, he just makes me want to plug a hose into a fire hydrant and spray him. See, racist.

When he's in the room, everything he says is shouted. He just yells, all the fucking time. And if he's got nothing to say, he just yells. Or yells out a rap lyric. And every time he's over it's a new line that he just repeats all night. The other day it was "got a thousand dollars say LeBron don't win a ring, word?" And he kept repeating it, like that was some type of great line. I mean, it's not. At all. And it's a million dollars. I looked it up to see if he got it right, and he didn't. I thought a thousand dollars was a little low of a figure to brag about in a Game song, and it was. Maybe I was angry because I think LeBron will win a ring one day, hopefully on the Knicks.

Or maybe I was angry because he kept repeating it over and over, getting louder and louder. He was like TK, but only louder and less mentally challenged.

Also, the two of them and some of their friends are taking a trip this weekend to go to Temple University to visit a friend. It would be much better if I weren't also going home this weekend. I'm pissed that I could have the room to myself for like 3 days and won't get to. Anyway, they're talking about their trip, and the cousin just says "I might beef in Philly, but I don't know yet."

My roommate says, "Yeah, if you do you get left in Philly." And the cousin says, "Man I don't know yet, but I might beef in Philly."

What the fuck? Who plans on getting into fights? Boxers, that's who. It's the second gayest thing I've heard him say, I'll get to number one in a bit. But seriously, planning on getting into a fight just because you're going on a trip somewhere? And not just anywhere, but Philly. I mean, he might just get shot. I don't want him to die. I have nothing against him, other than I think he's an obnoxious moron, but if he thinks he's going to walk into Philly and "beef" with someone just for fun, there's a good chance he could get shot.

Okay, the gayest thing I've heard him say involves my roommate. They're sitting at the table we have in our room talking about their clique. And the cousin starts talking about everyone in the clique, and who their G-Unit equivalent is. I didn't really pay attention, but I could tell he was getting pretty in depth and seriously thought about it. Anyway, I just thought that was pretty gay.

He also has this weird sense or urgency to go to Germany. My roommate's mother is German, and he stayed there over the summer and I'm sure has been before. So maybe he talked it up to his cousin, which he probably did. But still, the cousin just always talks about needing to go to Germany. He doesn't speak German, he had no idea what any of the typical German foods my roommate was telling him about were and he doesn't really know anything about the country other than he needs to be there.

You see, he met the German girl that stayed in my room a few weekends ago, and she also likes Germany and talked it up. He asked, "They got females there?" She said "Yes." And his desire only grew stronger. I mean, she didn't say attractive females, but just females. Doesn't matter. They got females.

Plus, he's black and American. They'll love him there. Which I'd imagine is probably somewhat true. But it's not like he wouldn't be popular if he were to go to other countries. Yet Germany is the place for him.

He was talking to my roommate about the females in Germany. "They like black people?" "Yeah, they don't have many so everyone looks at you. "Yo, man. I'm there." "Yeah, and once you start talking they'll really like you." "Shit, I need to be in Germany now son. So I'd get hype there?" "Yeah, definitely."

"Yo, would Lincoln get hype there?" "Yeah." "Come awwwn man. Lincoln would get hype there?" "Yeah, he's American. They like that."

Now, I know I was being insulted. I was sitting literally three feet from him when he was in utter disbelief I would get "hype" if I were to go to Germany. And maybe, one day I will. That would be fun. I'm sure it's nice. Realistically, I'd like to have sex with a German girl- payback and all.

And they were pretty sure I didn't know what hype was, so maybe he really thought him using his slang was the equivalent of spelling something out around a toddler. But I can spell too. So I picked it up. I just smiled. I mean, sure I'm not going to draw in the ladies like him. I mean, I don't have a thin mustache or goatee only around my chin. I mean, I just can't compete. And I don't have a winning personality like his either. But hey, we can't all be winners.

He was clearly threatened that I would get hype in Germany, like I would some way steal his women. So I played along and said, "Well, if I can get hype in Germany I may have to look into study abroad over there or just going for a visit." My roommate said I should because it's a nice country. His cousin looked worried.

"But yo," he said, "I'd get more hype because people like black Americans more than white Americans in other countries."

He's got a point. I can't compete with that. But then again, I'm perfectly fine with more people liking me because I'm white right here in the good ole USA. Have fun trying to get a job, cunttard.

Merry Yom Kippur everyone

So it's Yom Kippur. I think. I'm pretty sure it is. My dad mentioned it on the phone earlier, and my night class tonight was canceled because of it, which was odd but who am I to complain?

Anyway, this is the biggy for us Jews. Supposedly.

I don't know. We're supposed to fast, so I'm fasting.

But Adaham, you're only Jewish in title, but you're not really Jewish.

I know. I should mention I've been fasting for about two hours, or since I ate dinner. I will most likely fast until tomorrow morning, when I may or may not eat breakfast. Of course, if hunger strikes me at all tonight, I'll eat.

It's tough, fasting. I mean, I'm not hungry because I ate dinner, but all I can think about food because I know I'm not supposed to be eating any of it. Then again, I also don't really care. So am I fasting, or just not hungry? I'm not hungry. What's the point of all this? I don't have one, other to point out what a bad Jew I am. I will say I've toned it down though. During past Yom Kippurs I eat more than I normally would just because I'm supposed to be fasting. Maybe tomorrow I'll pig out, but I doubt it.

I guess I don't have anything else to add. But I'll keep going because I have a five page paper due tomorrow, and I currently have my name written and that's it. And I don't really want to do any more than that for now, so I won't.

Today on the escalator I saw a kid in a "White and Nerdy" sweatshirt. I laughed, but at him.

I guess that's really all I have to add.

I'm Goin' Plat'num!

Does anyone else remember the part in the song "Devil Without a Cause" when Kid Rock goes "no more floozies, only high class hoes?"  That doesn't make sense.  Why is he now paying for sex when he used to get it for free?  I thought the whole point of becoming famous and getting rich was so that you didn't need to ever spend any of your loads and loads of cash.  Honestly, it seems like a step down, and I don't see why he was bragging.

Thinking About This Makes My Penis Wrinkle

I don't remember a time when I've been more creeped out than earlier today, when I saw one of the people that lives on my floor wheel over to the trash room to brush her teeth in the sink.  I mean, she's kind of a macabre wheely to begin with, but brushing your teeth in the trash room sink?  We used to pee in that sink.  I'm going to have nightmares about this.

Dmur's Gambit

I always feel like it's a great idea to, when I'm meeting a female for the first time, and shaking her hand, make like I'm going for the chivalrous hand kiss, but then I change it up and just lick the back of her hand.  In my head, it's the perfect, hilarious thing to do.  Some day, I'm going to get up the courage to try it.  And that girl will either have me arrested and/or committed, or she'll be the one.

Hey guess what? I'm angry

Yeah, I'm angry right now, at a few things. And of course I'm going to run through all of them for you fine people, because it's the only way I know how to vent, other than viciously murdering a homeless person. I didn't see any homeless people tonight, so I was just going to kill a dirty looking black guy, but opted to come back to my room.

Anyway, I have an assignment for this one class that is to shoot a roll of film by Monday. Of course I didn't take out my camera until Thursday night, figuring I'd spend Friday shooting the film and then get it developed Saturday and everything would be fine. Well, I was about halfway through my roll, or halfway not through my roll for all the pessimists out there, and the battery in the camera died.

And of course I noticed this at about 11:30 at night, when the place that loaned me the camera is closed. The camera is due back tomorrow by noon. Fuck you place that lent me the camera with like no battery life!

Hey, dude at the bus stop, I'm not your "bro," so please don't call me that. No, bro, I don't know when the next bus comes. Sure, bro, I can tell you the time. No, bro, I don't know which frat house has the best party going on tonight. Sorry, but then again, I'm not. Every fucking sentence you have to call me "bro?" What's with this bro shit?

The only thing worse than "bro" is now how everyone has started putting "bro" into other words to describe things between males, like the "bromance." I mean, I get it. It's clever. But I tend to think anyone who frequently uses the term "bro" might be a little "bromosexual," or hobrosexual," if you will. I mean, how soon until we get the point when you're not just sucking your buddies cock because you're both gay, but you're just giving him a "brojob." I guess this rant is only my way to say I hate the word "bro" and think frat brothers probably fuck each other, or think about it, often. So fuck you bro-sayers and frat guys!

Hey, TA for my history class, shut the fuck up. You talk like Christopher Walken, except with a weird Eastern European accent. I can't stand it. Hey, we have an essay due Thursday, and it's our first essay for the class, and you told us we only cite the two textbooks. So why do you feel the need to go out of your way in recitation to rip a new asshole to Wikipedia for 10 minutes? Oh, right, because you're a retard who wears really tight shirts to show off his muscles.

Oh, you hate Wikipedia so much that you joined an online group who goes into articles nobody reads and changes little details about a persons life and monitor them to make sure nobody catches that you're putting incorrect information into the page? And you felt the need to tell us that, and go on a rant about how Wikipedia is horrible because anybody can update it, and how it's taking away from people looking stuff up in the Oxford Journal, where you just so happen to have said you get paid to work in? Uh oh, sounds like somebody's a little jealous that nobody wants to read your fucking boring journal, douchecock.

What's that? You gave us the option to write the essay from the perspective of a few different people from colonial times, and one of them is a slave? Can I hand you five pages of scribble and say "massa no teach me how to write," and be done with your bullshit assignment? What? You told us in class you'd rather us answer question one, which is a straight essay where we could put no thought into it and get an easy A? Well I'm going to do question 2, from the perspective of a Massachusetts shoemaker, and still get an A, just to spite you. I fucking hate you.

Hey, Barack Obama, I think you're a pretty swell guy. I'm gonna vote for you. Really, I am. There's no need to keep sending me e-mails, okay. Fuck.

"Joe Six-pack"

I don't get it.  Am I supposed to like Sarah Palin because she claims to represent alcoholics?  Is that what that means?  What the fuck?

Discuss.

Cool moms, the bar has been raised

Here you go folks, soak it up-

http://www.thedenverchannel.com/news/17557832/detail.html

What? Back in my day, which it still technically is possibly, the cool mom was the one that let kids drink at her house. Or in even "cooler" circumstances provided alcohol to the kids.

Ha. This woman laughs in the face of that. Or she would laugh, but he mouth is a little busy right now.

I urge you to click the link. Just look at the woman. I mean she's a catch. She looks pretty good there, and that's a mugshot. So figure when she's not getting arrested for giving oral sex to her 2-year-old son and taking pictures of the act and e-mailing them to a friend, she must look much better than that. Plus, she's certainly a giving individual.

You know how cool that kid is going to be when he goes to nursery school this week? Do 2-year-olds go to nursery school? He must go somewhere, right? Daycare maybe?

Well, where ever it is, when he shows up just imagine the scene.

"Hey, what'd you do this weekend Jeff [I don't know his name, but now it's Jeff]? I went pumpkin picking with my family, and my mom bought me some candy. She's the best."

"Really? My mom stuck my thingy in her mouth and took pictures. It felt...odd."

"Whoa."

"Yeah."

And scene. I mean, it's pretty disgusting and a horrible thing to do to a child. But if we're to believe this kid hadn't already experienced oral sex then we're just fooling ourselves. He's 2-years-old for fucks sake. Kids these days giving each other hand jobs while they lay next to one another in the hospital right after being born. If anything, this kid might be behind the curve. In which case, it was a mom doing what she had to bring her son up to speed. Kudos ma'am.

Some Stuff Happened Today

So nothing really to blog about today, so I'll just relive a few moments from my day. I guess I should start by wishing all of you a happy new year, of course. Or shall I say L'shana Tova! Sorry.

If you haven't figured out, today is the Jewish new year. I was on a bus earlier, heading through a very Jewish area, and a bunch of Hasidic Jews were walking on the sidewalks, because they can't drive! Stupid Jews.

Anyway, there were two girls sitting near me who had clearly never seen Hasidic Jews before. When two men walked by, in their black hats and black suits, with their curly sideburns and tzitzis (those thin, white threads they wear under their shirts) with full beards.

One girl turns to the other and says, "What the fuck is that?"

The one answers, "I don't know."

Happy new year ladies.

Just now I was walking back to my room after taking out some trash, and I hear music blasting from down the hall. My immediate reaction is "assholes," because the music was playing incredibly loud and it was around midnight on a Tuesday. Then I heard the lyrics.

"I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn/ You're a little late, I'm already torn."

Yes! I almost wanted to go knock on their door and shake their hands. Then we'd all put our arms around one another and belt out the rest of the song, replay it and do it over, and over and over. Then we'd feel a little gay and really embarrassed and pretended it never happened.

I didn't do that though. I just went back to my room and listened to song and dreamt about a society where I don't have to be ashamed of my love for Natalie Imruglia's music/one song.

I'll leave you with something that happened today during my film class. It's a four hour class where usually the professor talks for a little bit, and shows up clips from movies to demonstrate whatever he was talking about. That takes up about two hours, then we watch a full movie for the second half of class.

Today the media are in the room was locked and he couldn't get in. When he called for help he was told they couldn't get in either because it wasn't locked, but broken. So he and the TA tried to hook up a laptop to the screen and use that, but it didn't work either.

Then he sent the TA to try and find a DVD player in hopes that would work. He had talked for about an hour at that point, and was in desperate need of something so he could start showing clips. Or else we'd get to leave 3 hours early, maybe. That's what I thought at least.

So then he asks if anyone has questions about what we were talking about. A few people ask questions, and that takes about 15 minutes. Then he's answered all questions, and asks if anyone has questions about movies in general.

He gets the "what's your favorite/least favorite movie?" and a few other ones about how you end up as a film teacher. Then someone asks, "Have you ever worked on a film."

He immediately answered, without looking up at the class, "Yes, but nothing I'll ever show you." He said it in such a quick manner that he clearly meant he was talking about making a sex tape, which is why about 6 out of the 100 people in class, myself included, laughed. Well, I laughed because that's what I interpreted it to mean, and assume the other 5 did the same.

Then he clarified, "Just a few documentaries that never saw a wide release." Bingo. All I needed to hear. If sextapes aren't documentaries, what are? And wide release? There's a sex joke in there somewhere, right?

How about: Hey teach, is your penis that small or did she just have such a wide release that it made it look really small?

Eh, doesn't make much sense, I suppose. How about: Hey teach, I've heard of chubby chasers, but if she's any indication of the type of women you like, you've got quite a wide release?

Still no good. This is why I should've just left it the "there's a joke..." joke, instead of trying to actually figure one out.

One more: Hey teach, I've seen sperm shoot out in a straight line, but I've never seen such a wide release!

And you're welcome faithful readers. Just to clear things up, I am a writing major. Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna make it either :(