Snapple Cap "Real Fact" #115 Bamboo makes up 99% of a panda's diet.

The other one percent is the cornfilled stools of Middle Eastern dictators.  ¶ 8:12 AM 6 comments

  Ladybugs didn't suck! Almost everybody I know has been told they look like somebody (somebody meaning a "celebrity") and I'm no different. I've been told I look like Rob Thomas, Dustin Diamond (notice I didn't mention him first), Elijah Wood, Tobey Mcgwire, and that dude who did Stifler's mom in the "American Pie" movies. But of all of the comparisons I've rolled my eyes about there is one that just smacked me in the face and made me take a closer look in the mirror.

I really do look like a young Rodney Dangerfield.

And thanks to my friend Danny from SVA for pointing it out. If I ever see him again, I'll have to thank him because I didn't get the chance to or want to after the comparison was originally made.

But on to more important revelations...If I ever won a billion dollars (or a sum so large that I didn't have to do anything ever again) I finally figured out what I'd do with my life. I'd go back to college. And after I graduated from it, I'd go back again. And again. And again. I just miss being a student. I mean technically I am still in the Masters Program at my college, but I guess I miss being a student of classes that I'm actually interested in. I'm at the point where I'm bogged down in requirement classes and don't have the leeway (or the money) to look into any interesting electives. If I ever won a gajillion dollars, I would spend the rest of my life taking really interesting electives at random colleges all around the world. I miss subjects like "History of Cinema"(which I only got to take half a year of and we ended the first half on "Singing in the Rain") and I miss classes like "Ancient Mythology" (which, without the tests, was probably the best class I took during my sophomore year). I still remember the day my "History of Drama" (yeah, electives are wiffleballs at SVA) teacher showed "On the Waterfront" and pointed out the scene where Brando is talking to the blonde and she is trying to walk away. The blonde is trying to ignore him and go about her day, but Brando's character is interested and trying to flirt with her. Anyway, the scene works because the girl drops her glove and Brando puts it on his own hand. Thanks to my old drama teacher I know that the glove wasn't supposed to be dropped in the scene, but Brando played with the mistake and turned it into something magnificent.

See? That's the kind of crap I miss. Stupid, pointless elective crap.

On a side note, wouldn't "CU in September!" be an awesome slogan for a college pamphlet? Not like Notre Dame, but like Colorado University....

I think it's catchy.  ¶ 8:02 PM 9 comments

  Kristen doesn't have cancer She just got back from the place where you go to find out if you have cancer and, good news, she doesn't. She does have a toothache however, but it's Thursday so I would've assumed she would anyway. Her mouth is only pain free between 1:45am-3:36am on Sundays. I have no teeth problems. I am god. But she doesn't have cancer and that's a bonus in this god's life.

Although, since she'll probably blow my spot and comment on it(the tooth reference would be enough for her), I did wake up from my wisdom tooth removal yelling and crying. I was hysterical. I had never gone under before and I never want to again. Two cops just happened to be in the dentists office during my breakdown and in my delirium I asked them if they were "there for me" and of course the one cop was like "should we be?" I've only cried a few times in the last couple of years and two of them were on account of "Life As A House". If I ever need a leg amputated I'm going to stick a towel in my mouth and bite down.

I smell like sweat. It's dried up all over me. I have to work at 3 and I should probably shower before then. But I hate showering on even days and I hate brushing my teeth on the odd ones. Plus, I must be the only one I know who loves the wicked aftertaste of the Diet Lemon Snapple.

Until next time, don't get cancer!  ¶ 11:02 AM 3 comments

  Snapple cap "Real Fact" #102 A one-minute kiss burns 26 calories.

I tried to talk her into it, but my mom's not that into working out. Oh well....  ¶ 9:53 PM 6 comments

  It's not the internet, it's me We lost our internet connection sometime between Friday night and Saturday morning and all of the phones in our house as well (they both run through the same modem) and it wasn't until today, randomly I might add, that both the internet and our phones were restored.

Last week I whined about how the internet is a big reason as to why I don't get enough done. I'd like to apologize to the internet and it's family for any harm I may have caused and make it clear that the internet has nothing to do with my unproductiveness. The fact of the matter is that without internet I still wasted a remarkable amount of time the past few days.

I watched movies (Team America kicked ass), played videogames (Fight Night Round 2 mostly), and hit the gym (which is productive, but not in the way I mean). I did very little writing and absolutely NO drawing. I used to be driven. What the hell happened? I know I saluted glass half full thinking in a previous entry, but I'm still struggling to apply it to my everyday life.

Anyway, I apologize to the internets and take responsibility for my severe case of procrastination involving everything I want to do in life.

Oh well, here's to that glass half full thing again and a shitload of productivity from now on....starting tomorrow.  ¶ 4:51 PM 4 comments

  Dodging death and working out I'm one of those people who pick a penny up off of the ground believing that it may just lead to some good luck. I've never actually been able to link any of my good luck to any of the thousands of pennys I have picked up over the years, but i still believe in the practice none the less. Besides, everytime I crouch down to pick one up I always imagine that the bullet that was intended for my skull only missed killing me because I stopped to pick up the "good luck" penny. I can just picture my would be assassin cursing his luck, reloading his sniper rifle, and shaking his fist as I wander out of his line of fire. I know the day that I finally do get gunned down by my imaginary Lee Harvey, it'll be because I didn't stop to pick up a penny that was facing the tails side up. Those aren't good luck, they just suck.

So if you have been hired to kill me and happen to stumble across this blog, just sprinkle a bunch of "tails side up" pennies in my path and take your best shot.

On the gym: I realized today why I like the gym so much. Not only do I honestly feel productive while I'm there, I often visualize successes in other areas that don't necessarily have anything to do with a better body. While I'm there, I can see myself getting that teaching job (which I still haven't heard a thing about yet), I can see both my book and my comic being published, I can see myself succeeding in all aspects of life. Everywhere else I'm rather pessimistic and a glass half empty kind of a person. I don't doubt my talent or who I am, but while I'm at the gym I can see all of these obstacles vanishing while I let my mind wander.

I know it sounds corny and I'm not imagining myself as the President of the United States, but I guess I'm just a much more positive person "mid"work out than I am "pre" and "post" work out.

Here's to a conscious effort to see the glass half full from now on.

And sexy brunettes on crosstrainers don't hurt either....(You don't read my blog anymore, do you Kris?)  ¶ 10:08 AM 9 comments

  The bad...(NYC last Thursday) I forgot how bad the city can smell when the heat hits the stinky millions. If I had known how bad it was going to smell I would've brought my little spray bottle of "Fatty Man's Ball Sweat" to sweeten things up. Midtown just reeked.

The village smelled okay, but just looks so much dirtier than I remember it. Maybe as a paint splattered college student the grunge of it seemed cool. Maybe as an art school student I was obligated to worship the village, but god if I didn't hate it on Thursday. We were starving upon arrival and circled around a few blocks looking for a bite to eat. We passed a French Cafe (FREEDOM CAFE!), an organic Burrito place and a couple of other restaurants that just didn't appeal to us. It's weird because some of my fondest city memories involved tripping over a cute little eatery and making it ours for an hour. On Thursday I couldn't have been happier to see the UNO Pizzaria and Grill sign. I just wanted to EAT! I didn't feel like playing Christopher Colombus and discovering some new food. I wasn't in the mood. That being said, I'm glad they had really nice restrooms because I went twice while we were there and ran back five minutes after we left to finish the job. I guess my body only accepts Applebees.

I guess the most annoying thing were all of the people. As someone who used to go to the city every weekday I trained myself to walk with my head facing the ground, but having been out of the loop for so long couldn't help but look up. If I had a dime for every pretentious trendwhore that I passed while in the village I'd have 19.70. I counted. And that label isn't just reserved for the ladies. The men are just as bad. I stuck a qtip in my ear pretty deep and now my body is programmed to karate chop anyone who walks by me in an oversized trucker hat. *CHOP* That's better.  ¶ 10:47 AM 10 comments

  The good...(NYC last Thursday) I went to the city last Thursday night to see Tegan and Sara at Webster Hall. They were amazing. That being said, the opening act,"Communique" , stole the show without anyone realizing it. If someone had asked me, "Who stole the show?" I could've easily fingered the five talented musicians and that would've been the end of that mystery, but sadly, nobody asked (and please, we're adults and above fingering jokes). Anyway, Communique is without a doubt the best band I've stumbled across since I stumbled across Army of Me (then known as Cactuspatch) a couple years back. Their sound is a little um, jeez, Beachboysish/punkish/Dexi's Midnight Runnersish? The description sounds odd, but it just works. Depressing lyrics mixed with upbeat songs (for the most part) and they've been circling around my ipod ever since. The only thing I can hold against them is that a couple of songs sound a lot alike and could easily be interchanged.

Tegan and Sara were exactly what I expected and put on a funny little live show. From the concerts I've seen on the net (and now in person) they kind of do this whole back and forth banter between songs that seems too funny to be improvised. Some of it seemed random, but some of it seemed like Abbot and Costello wrote it write before they wrote "Who's On First?".
But musically, they were just brilliant and sounded perfect. I was still recovering from falling in love with the opening act, but I loved them none the less. And it's funny, the two songs I always skip over when they come round' on the shuffle were easily the songs that stood out during the show.

As far as the rest of the good...It was sunny outside.  ¶ 10:36 AM 2 comments

  A typical morning We woke up in a little purple room with the sun spying through the blinds. A little pameranian stretched and pressed it's paws against my back. It was time to get up. The old labrador on the floor thought otherwise. The freeze of the air conditioning tightened my nipples as I slid out from under the comforter.

Outside the room, with the two dogs in tow, the heat and humidity breathed heavy on us like a drunken uncle. I let the dogs out. I cooked a couple of eggs and sat down outside. I love eating breakfast before noon. She was still back in the frozen cube of a room. The little dog yapped at whatever it wanted to, which was everything and anything. I threw a tennis ball across the yard and it left a wet impression on the fence. The old lab wanted some of my eggs. The pameranian took off after the ball.

I hadn't put a shirt on yet and who knew if I would. I wondered why any teacher would get dressed during the summer. I've worn flipflops for three weeks and not much else. The old labrador got tired of waiting for a handout and sprawled across the deck.

*end of story*

Have you ever read a random blog? I just browsed a couple of them (for the first time) and the authors TOTALLY romanticized (sp) their entire entries. They all had the essence of a coffee commercial and half of the substance. In fact, by the time I got done reading one particular entry I felt the need to yell, "SEAN LUC!" right in my little pameranians face.

Anyway, the above should've gone a lot more like this...

I woke up to the freezing airconditioning again. It would be nice if for one damn night we didn't have to set the damn thing to "frostbite". But I'm not gonna win that argument. She'd rather sleep under a mountain of blankets. The damn little dog is whining in my ear. I'll let it out. I better let the other one out or he'll just lay there all day and have to go out just as we want to.
We all take a piss (me in the bathroom...but the thought did cross my mind). I eat the egg sandwich that my girlfriend picked up for me before she got home this morning. I'm going to check the internet. I just farted.

I've got to go. That damn dogs yapping at the back door.  ¶ 8:02 AM 8 comments

  Inside the Actors Studio... I hate the show. I have almost no interest in hearing the backstory of how some good looking actor just happened to hit it big, while a drooling audience of wannabe/gonnabe actors hang on his or her every word. Actually, the only reason I watch the show is for when they flash back to a smiling audience member and I get to yell out what their future occupation will most likely be.

GAS STATION ATTENDANT!
SECRETARY FOR A NISSAN DEALERSHIP!
STRIPPER!
ICE CREAM MAN!

I hate to stomp on dreams, but it's so painful to watch these stupid audience members all think to themselves, "That's going to be me on that stage one day." I mean, good luck to the one who actually DOES get to sit on that stage, but for the thousands who don't make it?

Do you have anymore Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pops?  ¶ 9:15 PM 3 comments

  Brat Camp As I type this, there is a show on ABC called Brat Camp. I have a feeling it's going to be a long drawn out series about how these "troubled" teens cope with life in a harsh environment and how they are inevitably "changed" by the experience. Over the course of the series there will be crying, fighting, yelling, and perhaps even a hint of romance. I'm sure millions will watch the transformations of these troubled teens and weep along with the violins that are sure to be an essential part of the show's soundtrack. The thing is, if I had my way it would be a one-shot deal instead of a series where both the kids and the parents were beaten by a bunch of "truly" troubled teens for the entire hour of the show's existance. I'm talking kids who have been molested by an army of uncles, former crackbabies, starving children from other countries, and maybe the rare combination of all three. It would be nice to see people with real problems get to beat the crap out of people who create their own. It would put these whiny teens and their equally whiny parents in their places and teach them to appreciate the meaning of the word "troubled".

So far this show is just full of spoiled rich kids and their parents who are too terrified to say the word "no". It's funny, because neither can their really, really slutty 7th grade daughter.  ¶ 5:22 PM 6 comments

  Some people wake up in tubs missing their kidneys... ...others wake up in the middle of a diner with no idea how they got there. My girlfriend, her sister (and her 3 month old baby boy), and yours truly went out to lunch this afternoon. The baby arrived sleeping and slept until the check arrived. It was a nice and peaceful lunch (he woke up last time and it wasn't nearly as peaceful), but I couldn't help but wonder what was running through the kids mind after he woke up. He probably fell asleep at home in familiar surroundings only to wake up in a crowded diner with his mother motioning for the check.

I guess I'm kind of jealous. Wouldn't it be neat to just wake up in the middle of a flea market or maybe even a 7-11 once in a while? I'm sick of waking up where I go to bed. It's just not random enough for me.....

...purple monkey donkey balls.  ¶ 6:46 PM 4 comments

  I think it's time for me to lay off of the internet and videogames for a while (even if I am about to embark on an allnight NCAA Football 2006 marathon). Despite my girlfriend saying similar things to me for the past few months, (years even), it didn't hit me until I was standing in the middle of a grocery store today with four mentally handicapped men at my side (one of whom was only moments away from knocking down a carefully assembled castle of hamburger rolls).
These weren't four random mentally retarded me either...they were MY four mentally retarded men (who I work with happily each and every weeknight). The funny thing is that one of them really looks like popeye and one of them really looks like Wimpy and the minute those rolls dropped I swear the one who looked like Wimpy got a little teary eyed (or panicky....he was the one to knock down that carefully assembled display).

Anyway, back to why I must leave the internet and all of it's jargon behind me....So there I was picking up spilled packages of hamburger rolls and trying to calm poor ol' wimpy down when I see it. A stupid plastic container full of barbecue sauce. I pass by barbecue sauce all of the time and never think anything of it, but today (and this is the truth) I thought "OMFG BBQSAUCE!!!!!!!!11111. Now a NORMAL person would see it and go, "hmm, that would be delicious on a steak or with chicken nuggets" or maybe even, "Yuck. Barbecue Sauce.", but not me....I'm thinking about how it's become a part of message board spam.

Barbecue sauce and spam? There's got to be something to that combo....

Anyway, Is there going to be a day where instead of laughing at a coworkers joke I'm just going to start shouting, "LOL! LOL!"? Am I going to welcome the screams of a newborn son by telling him to "STFU NOOB!"? Hell, I'm slightly upset when I happen to catch the mailman at the door and he doesn't respond "You've got mail." and instead just hands it to me and tells me to "have a good one". HAVE A GOOD ONE? WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE MAILMAN? If I keep it up, my funeral will only be attended by crying emoticons and the excess hotmail "penis enlargement" spam.

And as far as videogames go, I've only got this. There is no need for my girlfriend to know that I beat Duke 84-7 in the second game of my Virginia Tech dynasty, but you know what? I told her none the less.

Oh, and I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.....  ¶ 5:53 PM 7 comments

  Like tears in the rain.... Those who know me know that I used to work on a tv show for a certain music television network that is known for not playing much music at all (and the network wasn't Much Music). Anyway, right before 9/11 we were on a hiatus and right after 9/11 that hiatus turned into..well, six months of unemployment checks.

While working on the show was fun (half of my job involved wasting time and the other half involved finding something to waste time on), it wasn't fulfilling. And despite what you kids out there may think, that feeling of "accomplishing" something is important. Those six months of unemployment where I prayed for a job (I also sent out thousands of resumes), were some sad and fattening times. Have you ever spent an entire unemployment check on comic books and Mcdonalds? I have. Anyway, I'm a teacher now and it's all full of fullfillment and well.....this isn't the direction this entry was supposed to be going.

Long story short, I have few things that actually link me to working at the station. My old ID card, a basketful of preanimation drawings, and a copy of the last movie we worked on (and trust me, I busted my ass on it). The thing is I still have my old ID card, I've still got the bucketful of paper, but the movie?

Yesterday my brother confessed to taping over it with lesbian porno. Take THAT, Rutger Hauer.  ¶ 9:01 AM 2 comments

  First a cellphone, now this For 27 years I successfully managed to live my life without owning a cellphone and between you and me, the first three of those years went by so fast I can barely remember a thing. The next four years are pretty much a blur as well, except I can clearly remember never having to apologize for not owning a cellphone. I guess it really wasn't up until college where "not" having a cellphone made me an outcast (and to be consider an outcast at SVA is a pretty hard thing to do). Anyway, I now own a freakin cellphone and I'm now another dumb blogger.

If you are interested in killing five minutes a day reading about a 27 year old mans adventures at the gym (and his subsequent battles with ball sweat), than this is the blog for you. If you are captivated by dramatic stories involving sports videogames and fictional college football teams, this is the blog for you. And if you are mesmerized by both of those things, please tell me why. I need to know what's wrong with me.

Anyway, special thanks to helava and A_B for making their blogs a must read and unknowingly encouraging me to start my own.

Oh, and what's the deal with *insert name of upsetting politician here*?  ¶ 8:46 AM 0 comments