If I was a garbage man, I would put pieces of stinky trash in peoples mailboxes. Consider this some stinky pieces of trash in your mailbox.
Look. I didn't spend a whole lot of time on this terrible video. This video does have some real KG quotes. I thought having him speak in an English accent would have been ironic, but turns out that this video sucks. I debated whether or not to post it, then I was like, whatever, might as well share this.
I destroyed the other one I made... It was awful. The main point was how cool Jumanji would be if Mrs. Doubtfire came in out of no where, or was Alan's mom or something. So dope. Jumanji is awesome.
Yep, I did it again.
This is Arcade Fire's song, My Body is a Cage, to the movie, Once Upon a Time in the West. Westerns are so raw, the stare downs are all these men need to communicate. The music is a nice modern touch.
Political poker
I had a conversation with a friend recently....
"-" denotes what I said. "=" denotes what he said.
= The government is shutting down this Friday. Can you believe it?
- Really? I didn't know that.
= Oh yeah, every government job is getting shut down. I just don't see why they can't print more money!
- Because that will cause... (cuts me off).
= Inflation I know. Whatever that means. It doesn't make sense to me.
-Well, if you print more money the monetary value decreases. It becomes less valuable. The more scare the resource, in our case money, the more it is worth. Just like pearls, or gold.
= Yeah, they should just print more money.
First of all, how did I not know that the gov't was shutting down? I feel just as ignorant as him, who hasn't taken an economic class or really wants to. But then again, why wasn't this mentioned in any of my classes? Not a big deal?
Feel free to chime in Burke, on inflation. You did go toe to toe with Baker right?
"-" denotes what I said. "=" denotes what he said.
= The government is shutting down this Friday. Can you believe it?
- Really? I didn't know that.
= Oh yeah, every government job is getting shut down. I just don't see why they can't print more money!
- Because that will cause... (cuts me off).
= Inflation I know. Whatever that means. It doesn't make sense to me.
-Well, if you print more money the monetary value decreases. It becomes less valuable. The more scare the resource, in our case money, the more it is worth. Just like pearls, or gold.
= Yeah, they should just print more money.
First of all, how did I not know that the gov't was shutting down? I feel just as ignorant as him, who hasn't taken an economic class or really wants to. But then again, why wasn't this mentioned in any of my classes? Not a big deal?
Feel free to chime in Burke, on inflation. You did go toe to toe with Baker right?
Double Dog Dare
Name your pet a curse word. Like wanker.
Say it often.
Introduce him to everyone.
But never say his name with a smile.
Say it often.
Introduce him to everyone.
But never say his name with a smile.
Funnie
Messing with people is probably one of the funnest things to do. I recommend it. Look up Tom Mabe on YouTube. He has some classic ideas. Lee Roy Mercer is pretty funny too.
Here is the game of the month: choose one of your friends or even a person you aren't close to, but talk to often, preferably one that is a hothead. The goal of this game is to irritate them. You do this by asking them to repeat whatever they just said. You need to do this in moderation or else they'll catch on.
For instance. You are talking about the liberation of Libya, or why KFC is of the devil, and they are really into it, their argument is reaching its climax. All you have to do is say 'what?' or even better, 'huh?' I promise that they will repeat what they said, or say it in a different way. After they are done re-explaining, ask them again, as if you didn't understand or weren't listening. If you started with 'say that again,' then you keep saying 'say that again'. I mean, if they aren't catching on.The best is when they are giving you directions.
Here is the game of the month: choose one of your friends or even a person you aren't close to, but talk to often, preferably one that is a hothead. The goal of this game is to irritate them. You do this by asking them to repeat whatever they just said. You need to do this in moderation or else they'll catch on.
For instance. You are talking about the liberation of Libya, or why KFC is of the devil, and they are really into it, their argument is reaching its climax. All you have to do is say 'what?' or even better, 'huh?' I promise that they will repeat what they said, or say it in a different way. After they are done re-explaining, ask them again, as if you didn't understand or weren't listening. If you started with 'say that again,' then you keep saying 'say that again'. I mean, if they aren't catching on.The best is when they are giving you directions.
from my other blog.
A WHILE BACK - I went to the admissions office to inquire about my residency application. I had submitted the application a few days prior and was told that I would see an immediate change in my tuition when the application was processed, which would only take a day or so. Days passed, and no change had been made. When I asked about the status of the application, the girl at the counter told me to come back. The residency expert was busy.
Later that night, I called the admissions office to see what had taken place in my absence. I explained that I had previously come in and talked with one of the front office girls, and she said she would take care of it for me. "What was her name?" The voice on the phone asked.
-- At that moment I realized the only thing I remember about this girl was her hairy arms. I didn't even ask her name. That is all I could think about, all that hair. If she had blue hair, she would look like Sully. It was just her arms, not the chin, the lip, those arms... "Hello?" --Back to reality. "Uh, yes, I am here. I don't remember her name, but she had hairy arms?" The phone clicked off. Then it sunk in... I am a total jackass. That was probably the same girl. She had probably been teased about her arms her whole life. Called awful names like, 'Yeti' or 'Teen Wolf', maybe even 'Jodi'.
I felt awful. This girl was so nice to me, and in a moment of weakness, I failed to be humane. Even if it wasn't intentional, I had managed to be a complete jerk. I had to make amends. I waited around the admissions office till she came. I told her how sorry I was. She accepted my apology, but with a streak of fierceness in her eyes, she said, "See you on the other side."
Later that night, I called the admissions office to see what had taken place in my absence. I explained that I had previously come in and talked with one of the front office girls, and she said she would take care of it for me. "What was her name?" The voice on the phone asked.
-- At that moment I realized the only thing I remember about this girl was her hairy arms. I didn't even ask her name. That is all I could think about, all that hair. If she had blue hair, she would look like Sully. It was just her arms, not the chin, the lip, those arms... "Hello?" --Back to reality. "Uh, yes, I am here. I don't remember her name, but she had hairy arms?" The phone clicked off. Then it sunk in... I am a total jackass. That was probably the same girl. She had probably been teased about her arms her whole life. Called awful names like, 'Yeti' or 'Teen Wolf', maybe even 'Jodi'.
I felt awful. This girl was so nice to me, and in a moment of weakness, I failed to be humane. Even if it wasn't intentional, I had managed to be a complete jerk. I had to make amends. I waited around the admissions office till she came. I told her how sorry I was. She accepted my apology, but with a streak of fierceness in her eyes, she said, "See you on the other side."
Be a Cowboy. Simple.
Sean wants to be one.
John Grady Cole.I bet you don't know the name, but you can assume a couple things about him by just hearing his name. You could derive that when he introduces himself he looks you in the eye, gives you a firm handshake, and states his whole name. He is humble, but is willing to draw blood for his friend. When you say his name, you know you could trust him. You know he will be loyal. You know John Grady Cole is a man, a man that lives to be a cowboy. So what if he is a fictional character (from the movie and book All the Pretty Horses), he gives you a reason to believe.
His story is one of the many stories that makes up the ideology of being a Cowboy. Watch any western movie, listen to a country song, or go down to the livestock auction, and you will see the dogma I am talking about.
There is something mystic about this dying breed. Their twang and tone is off, but yet endearing. Their lives are filled with hardship, you can tell from their skin; its worn from the punishing work and climate they expose themselves to. Their politeness is uncanny, and you know they know how to love.
People dog on country music. All they sing about is animals, losing their girl, and their truck. Well, that is what happens. Pretty simple. Pretty awesome. Just like our own Silent Cowboy, Walker Wood. Awesome.
They don't have time to go to a doctor. They don't have time to sleep in. They don't have time for pussyfooting. They don't have time for the B.S. The rules or religion, of a cowboy is simple: Be loyal and honest. Work (Pure Country). Love your woman (Lonesome Dove). And get back on once you have been bucked off (think Lane Frost). Now, tell me that ain't a code that everyone should live by.
Being wholly committing oneself to the doctrine of Cowboy is not for every soul. There are sacrifices to be made. Big and small. From being dirt poor to wearing tight pants, its a lifestyle. Its the way of the cowboy. I don't know many true cowboys. I think most are dead and gone. But hell, I am fixin' to pretend while I can.
The Century Post.
This is the 100th post. We are not going to recap my presidency thus far. We are not going to stand and cheer while I wave my bat (Cricket loves their century marks). We are not going to make a cake either.... I know that if you add up the posts it doesn't equal 100. To be honest some posts were deleted. But nonetheless there has been 100 posts, just to clarify.
Marty Robbins, an oldie, but a goodie. He also had a song in Rango.
This post is a prelude of a post to come. I suggest that in preparation for that post you watch, Silverado, The Magnificent Seven, any John Wayne movie, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Be prepared to share what you get out of your viewing. Remember, there are no wrong answers or ideas, just ones that don't make sense.
P.S. I love Feleena... I mean, I heart Feleena.
Marty Robbins, an oldie, but a goodie. He also had a song in Rango.
This post is a prelude of a post to come. I suggest that in preparation for that post you watch, Silverado, The Magnificent Seven, any John Wayne movie, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Be prepared to share what you get out of your viewing. Remember, there are no wrong answers or ideas, just ones that don't make sense.
P.S. I love Feleena... I mean, I heart Feleena.
GOOSEBUMPS!
Reggie must have trained these guys. It amazes me that announcers can ruin an awesome play. This is the block of the year. They should have thrown their headsets off and joined a religious cult that worships big time blocks. That was an emphatic block. "I told ya. He is fun to watch." That is the best they could do? The Wheel of Fortune is fun to watch too. Gosh. Do some justice to this beautiful block.
*Side note: I love that whenever a boy is apart of the cheer- leading squad, there is a definite distinction made when announcers mention him. He is a "male cheer-leader." He is not a man, boy, but a male. As if you were questioning his gender.
*Side note: I love that whenever a boy is apart of the cheer- leading squad, there is a definite distinction made when announcers mention him. He is a "male cheer-leader." He is not a man, boy, but a male. As if you were questioning his gender.
It's all semantics.... Right?
I have held off writing about my roommate, mostly because I knew he would reveal a fountain of treasure, and I didn't wanna come across mean, but I have realized that everyone needs to know about Lynx; which isn't his real name, but it is the name of a constellation, and he is named after a constellation, but I think Lynx is a cooler name than his real name. Everyone needs to know about his extraordinary gifts. You will come to appreciate, as I have, how exceptional the man is. That is how you should take this. Not a roast. Not a mockery, but a view of person that is cut from a different cloth. A person who goes to the beat of his own drum, not only because he can play the drums, but because he is the exception to the norm. He decided that years ago.
I think it would be appropriate to share how I came to meet Lynx.
One day, during the middle of the semester, I came home, and notice that a blue Nissan Odyssey was parked in the driveway. (Too bad the van wasn't a Toyota.) I roll inside the house to find a long-haired bearded man, looking back at me through his spectacles. I almost ask, but I size up the situation in the kitchen, and realize that he isn't a DHL guy hand delivering dish after dish into the cupboards. Instead I say, "Uh......" He responds as quick as a a double shot of 5 hour energy. "I am your new roommate. I used to live across the street. My name is Lynx." My head wants me to still say "Uh...." Somehow I manage to say, "Why," which is better than a basket of cookies to house warm a person with. Yum, don't you feel welcomed now.
I later find out that he was a music major, doesn't go to school, is from California, and doesn't want to get to know me. Not because he is mean, he just didn't ask me a single question or show any human interest in me. I still don't know why he had to move. I am just so glad he is living with me. Now I can know how boring I am.
Whenever I think of Lynx, I think of Men in Black, but I quickly come back to earth, from that celestial constellation, when I go into the bathroom we share. He must have laid out coal and other dark substances on his carpet floor in his room (the door to his room is always closed, so he may actually be growing weed too), or walks barefoot every where, because he has extraordinary dirty feet. The bottom of our shower is black. This is incredible.
To further baffle me, the man has a mane that sheds furiously. I find hair all over. I wonder if he is Teen wolf. This is truly preternatural. I am not sure if this all preparation for the part of my life when I have to share a bathroom with a woman, but I am sure that he is supernatural, and that Indian hair is thick. Thick as THIEVES! (Idioms are fun. Reread that sentence with some authority. Maybe yell it.) Yes, his hair is that thick.
He is really gifted in music. Whether it is the piano, drums, the guitar, or humming, the guy knows what he is doing. His voice exercises are most spectacular. Powerful. That is what comes to mind. Power. He can shake the walls, vibrate my seat, and consume my mind with his vocal talents. I have to bid farewell to my studies, while I am forced to listen. I actually considered putting beeswax in my ears, the sound was pulling me out of reality.... His band does have some chicks, which is awesome. I love when girls, excuse me, women rock out. Like Grace Potter, Elly Jackson, and yes, even Avril Lavigne, especially when she sings in Spanish.
I wonder what he does all day. I sit in amazement at his hour and half long showers. Awed, by his ability to eat nothing but Betty Crocker cakes, and never clean a dish. Dumbfounded, by our ability to live with each other and not know anything about each other. I am stupefied by his self-discipline to stay in our house and his room all of the time. His awkwardness is truly awesome. I give you Lynx. He gives you extraordinary.
I think it would be appropriate to share how I came to meet Lynx.
One day, during the middle of the semester, I came home, and notice that a blue Nissan Odyssey was parked in the driveway. (Too bad the van wasn't a Toyota.) I roll inside the house to find a long-haired bearded man, looking back at me through his spectacles. I almost ask, but I size up the situation in the kitchen, and realize that he isn't a DHL guy hand delivering dish after dish into the cupboards. Instead I say, "Uh......" He responds as quick as a a double shot of 5 hour energy. "I am your new roommate. I used to live across the street. My name is Lynx." My head wants me to still say "Uh...." Somehow I manage to say, "Why," which is better than a basket of cookies to house warm a person with. Yum, don't you feel welcomed now.
I later find out that he was a music major, doesn't go to school, is from California, and doesn't want to get to know me. Not because he is mean, he just didn't ask me a single question or show any human interest in me. I still don't know why he had to move. I am just so glad he is living with me. Now I can know how boring I am.
Whenever I think of Lynx, I think of Men in Black, but I quickly come back to earth, from that celestial constellation, when I go into the bathroom we share. He must have laid out coal and other dark substances on his carpet floor in his room (the door to his room is always closed, so he may actually be growing weed too), or walks barefoot every where, because he has extraordinary dirty feet. The bottom of our shower is black. This is incredible.
To further baffle me, the man has a mane that sheds furiously. I find hair all over. I wonder if he is Teen wolf. This is truly preternatural. I am not sure if this all preparation for the part of my life when I have to share a bathroom with a woman, but I am sure that he is supernatural, and that Indian hair is thick. Thick as THIEVES! (Idioms are fun. Reread that sentence with some authority. Maybe yell it.) Yes, his hair is that thick.
He is really gifted in music. Whether it is the piano, drums, the guitar, or humming, the guy knows what he is doing. His voice exercises are most spectacular. Powerful. That is what comes to mind. Power. He can shake the walls, vibrate my seat, and consume my mind with his vocal talents. I have to bid farewell to my studies, while I am forced to listen. I actually considered putting beeswax in my ears, the sound was pulling me out of reality.... His band does have some chicks, which is awesome. I love when girls, excuse me, women rock out. Like Grace Potter, Elly Jackson, and yes, even Avril Lavigne, especially when she sings in Spanish.
I wonder what he does all day. I sit in amazement at his hour and half long showers. Awed, by his ability to eat nothing but Betty Crocker cakes, and never clean a dish. Dumbfounded, by our ability to live with each other and not know anything about each other. I am stupefied by his self-discipline to stay in our house and his room all of the time. His awkwardness is truly awesome. I give you Lynx. He gives you extraordinary.
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