David T is mentioned in or commented on 11 posts, which ranks #40 overall for people. They are most often associated with these...

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You know those commercials on tv that are like, "Do you like to draw?" And you can order that free test to see how good you are and the test includes doodling a pirate and a parrot and shit. Well, I was pretty hammered a couple weeks ago and that commercial came on so I called them. In between my information I kept throwing in phrases like, "Boy, you're really going to be blown away by what I can do." My plan was to fill out the test, scan it in so you could all laugh at it with me and then mail it in. Unfortunately, that probably won't happen.

I got a phone call from Carol at the Art Institute who wanted to interview me. She said there was no need for me to mail in a test since it would just end up on her desk anyway so I can fill it out with her there. I told her that art is my life and always has been and that all of my friends are just blown away by my sketches. She was really getting excited with me about my art. Why must my art hurt me so?

Then she wanted to schedule a time and I was totally going to do it. Sometimes I don't like to admit it, but in this case, I will. I was only gonna do it because it would make a really great blog. I wanted to double check that it wasn't a scam first, though, so I asked her if I had to pay anything. And she said she was gonna be right up front with me, school is 30 dollars a week. "30 DOLLARS!!1!" I exclaimed. She asked me if I had a job and I said I was in between jobs right now but I had put in an application at Starbucks a couple weeks ago and still had my fingers crossed. Carol said I need to get my life together by February because she has me rescheduled for her next trip to Dallas.

I will keep you all posted on how my new career is progressing. Right now I have to go get together 3 of my best drawings to show Carol.

I think I might need to start a Sleep Files of sorts. This will be last installment in that epic saga for a while. I went to the clinic today. They asked a lot of intelligent questions. They said I definitely need to come back and spend a night in their sleep lab. If anybody wants to go with me, we can totally spoon ... though I'm not sure if that's allowed.

The doctor was also kind enough to point out the two physical features I am probably the most self conscious about (although that term is just relative since I'm not really self conscious). He asked me if I'd ever broken my nose and then seemed to think I was lying to him when I said no. He said I have a deviated septum that could be contributing to my problem. He also commented on my overbite and said that my lower mandible being farther back could be pressing my tongue against the back of my throat as I sleep. Both of these could be corrected with very painful surgery, but I know a thing our two about blindingly painful surgeries, so I'd be willing to go along with it if they thought I needed it. That's kind of a last resort and they're not even sure it would come to that until I complete the sleep test. Still, if I did do that, I'd totally have a cosmetic surgeon come along for the ride to make the pain and suffering and rehabilitation worth it.

That sleep test won't be happening until I return from Cincinnati, though, so we can close this chapter for a while. I was quite tired at my appointment today due to breaking the sleep rules last night to go downtown for a couple glasses of wine with JD. Definitely need to make a habit of that.

Today at work, my body builder coworker delivered my 10 POUND BAG of whey protein that I told him I wanted. I am now supplementing my diet. But seriously, 10 pounds is sooo much more than I thought it was. Picture like a bag of dog food, only completely filled with powder. I laughed so hard when I saw it. It's going to last me well past its 2007 expiration date. So I came home from the workout, drank my shake, and then cleaned Tuna's tank. It was way past due. He seems rather pleased that I finally got around to it. I set him next to the laptop while I was in the bathtub scrubbin his rocks. When I came back out he was surfing around Friendster. Did he add you?

Finally, at lunch today somebody made a mention of an alias. All three of us in rapid succession offered up our aliases, mine being Donovan Blankenship. Then that made me think of Joey and Phoebe being Ken Adams and Regina Philange. And naturally that led me to think about how Allison adopted Fionula Flannigan as hers. Having a cool alias is a MUST. So I ask you, dear viewers, to post your pseudonym here on a comment. And with that, I bid you adieu.

Every now and then on SideshoViD.com, I bring you pressing social issues and damning political commentary. This is one of those times. I bring you another monumental your-opinion-doesn't-really-matter-all-that-much-but-I'll-ask-it-anyway call to action. There is one thing that is driving me crazy about growing my hair out. It's not the tangles, the frizz, or the constant ironing -- it's the monotony. I am accustomed to radically changing my hair on a nearly daily basis. There was a time not to long ago when I would wake up with red hair, go to class with blue, and fall asleep with green. I can no longer make these drastic changes. And changing which side of my head I part on just isn't getting me off like it used to.

So I bring you the question: to flip or not to flip. It's my new innovation for my hair. Instead of curling everything under in a tidy package, I've started allowing the natural flow of my hair to come through by flipping the left side out. Sometimes drastically. So I want to know what the general public opinion is. 27 used to flip his hair just for me, since he generally hated to do so, into a style I dubbed the "Carol Brady." But I'm not doing both sides, just one. I think it creates a nice movement that has been lacking as of late. If you like the flip, let me know. If not, burn in hell. As always, I'll entertain your opinions, as long as your opinions entertain me.

In other news, my super secret social project that I've cleverly named "The Addison Circle" is slowly but surely coming along. This is where I am going to create my own social circle comprised entirely of people who live north of 635. Tonight I had drinks with Mr. K■■■■■■ and Matt L■■■■■, both of whom live just a stone's throw away from me in Addison Circle. Soon, soon, it will turn from a triangle, to a square, to a pentagon, to a hexagon, to a heptagon, to an octagon, to a nonagon, to a decagon ... and I'm tired of this game, continue on for me in comments if you like ... and eventually approach a circle.

I've had this stupid nagging cough for almost two weeks now. It is really starting to get old. I lay awake at night hacking up a lung and I can't sleep and it's affecting the quality of my life. Before I went to Kaylyn's birthday party, I went to a doctor to make sure I wouldn't get her sick. He said my cough actually wasn't caused by disease but was just a bronchial irritation. I relayed this information to the guys at work and we decided that the sleep rules are actually to blame.

You see, I sleep at 65 degrees every night now. It feels great. But the other thing that cold air does is give up moisture easily. So effectively what I'm really doing is breathing in cold ass, dry ass air all night long and it eventually started to adversely affect me. So I did the only logical thing. I bought a humidifier. It's a really nice humidifier that can control to a set point. So now I'll be livin' at 50% humidity no matter what the temperature is in my apartment. I think it's really important to be totally in control anyway.

But that doesn't arrive until tomorrow. In the meantime I filled a couple of prescriptions that the doctor gave me. One's a pill to like get rid of the inflamation in my chest and the other is ... drum roll please ... cough syrup with codeine! YAY! Sippin' on some sizzurp! This is good news because my last bottle just expired. That should save me some money on alcohol this weekend.

Andy, the old roommate from back in Feb-Apr has been staying with me this week. I took him to my gym a couple of times since he is a personal trainer, fully willing to pay the ridiculous 20 dollar guest fee, but it turns out I get two free guest passes each month. So if anybody ever wants to go with me let me know. I work out 7 days a week now. Did you know that? It's true.

Well, I've just made some delicious chicken breast tacos so I might have to go indulge. Peace out, sluts.

My trip to College Station was a rousing success. I saw so many people that I haven't seen in forever. I met a bunch of new people too. And somewhere in the middle of those two experiences ... I met lots of people that I've known for years but never bothered to remember -- namely, ALL of Keiff's female friends. The drive down was a b-last. It's been so long since team Gill 'n Al have made a road trip. We rawked out the whole way. Trying to describe it in words will only fall short, but I'll just say that I almost passed out from singing the Moulin Rouge soundtrack too loud.

I don't want to go into too much narration about my weekend, but I did take a shower at Jason's, stop off at Dustin and Trey's, see Marshall at Hoblob (his hair is so hot now), check out Tommy's ultra chic downtown loft, visit Josh and Nelly, and attend Burns' and Lauren's ring dunking party. Burns was pretty optimistic about beating my modest 65 second mark, but he fell quite short. I think he came in at 94, which I say assuming he will correct me if I'm wrong. Lauren took several minutes, but I was still proud of her for finishing decently for a girl. Of course, chugging beer is what college ... nay, life ... is all about, but I suppose some congratulations are in order for even attaining the coveted Aggie Ring. So congrats, children, congrats.

After drinking all the free beer we could, Dustin, Trey, Jason, Tommy and I all ventured over to Halo. I saw so many people there. It was way too fun. I drank myself retarded, attempted to dance, had many conversations that are not catalogued in my ever decreasing memory banks. This was a fantastic trip to CS, I accomplished all of my goals of alcoholism.

In other exciting news, Allison got herself a job for when she graduates in December. She's been interning at HP for a while now and has decided to further that career professionally. The exciting part? She's been hired in Sydney fucking Australia. How awesome is that?! Major congrats to her! I am already saving up for my plane ticket to go visit her. Who knows ... if I like it there, I could always transfer to Sydney. Our three world headquarters are Sydney, Australia, Malmo, Sweden, and Carrollton, Texas (obviously). I'm way excited for her, even though it's a little depressing that she'll be on the other side of the world by the end of January. So our party on December 11th in College Station that you're all clearing your calendars for will now be a Thanksgiving/Graduation/Bon Voyage. Huzzah!

And finally, I've been inundated with the word 'insurgent' since this whole Fallujah thing, in conjunction with my NPR habit, started. I finally decided to look it up and find out what it actually means.
in·sur·gent (n-sûrjnt) adj. --
1. Rising in revolt against established authority, especially a government.
2. Rebelling against the leadership of a political party.

Turns out, I'm an insurgent.

Tell me if this is totally evil of me. My boss is a really nice guy. I honestly enjoy working for him. And on top of that, I think he's really smart ... maybe even smarter than me, which means I respect him. Plus, he's pretty lax about just about everything having to do with my work, which is of the utmost importance when you're trying to employ yours truly. The only problem I have with him is his hand. It is completely normal except for one finger that bends 90 degrees at the last knuckle. I hate to be so petty, but for some reason this really bothers me. When he demonstrates a concept with his hands, or uses gestures for emphasis, I feel the blood rush to my face and I get uneasy and queasy. It's awful. I end up making uncomfortably strong eye contact to avoid looking, or I look away, which is never good when you're boss is having a conversation with you. Should I get over it or would that bother anybody else? Not that your opinion matters.

In other news, I came across an old relic of my childhood the other day. It's my first stereo ever, the ol' Gerard. I used to listen to Lisa Loeb "Tails" (the first CD I ever owned) on repeat for weeks at a time on the ol' Gerard. This thing is so badass. The remote has a button for opening and closing the CD tray, but does not have a power button, nor volume control. Because there are many times when you would need to open and close the CD tray from across the room, but rarely if ever would you want to modulate the volume. I decided that instead of tucking it back away in the nether regions from whence it came, I would give it new life. I took a cue from David27 and put the stereo in my bathroom, so I can listen to music in the morning while I'm showering. I just tried it for the first time this morning and it is absolutely heavenly.

Also, it gives new meaning to the phrase, "Rock out with your cock out!" Excelsior!

So much has happened since last we met, faithful Sidesho-Viewers. I apologize half-heartedly for the impromptu hiatus from the blog. Since last we met, a couple of very exciting and life-altering things have taken place in my life. Let's discuss, shall we?

First things first, I graduated from Texas A&M with a Bachelor of Science degree in Engineering Technology. Whoop. This might just be a piece of paper with my name on it, but it is also my ticket out of here. You see, that company that finally called me back have made their official offer and I have accepted. It's off to the Big D for yours truly. Any of you that have followed my webpage have only ever read about my many adventures while living in College Station (unless you are a VERY long time viewer and remember Chicken Cherry Cola or If I Had My Own Domain, It'd Be Vid.com). Now we're all going to have to make this move together as I transplant my life back to Dallas. Ironic, isn't it ... that the one child that probably wanted to get away the most has traveled the least, as the crow flies.

At the onset, I am going to move back in with my parents. This will keep me from having to go and find an apartment right away. I'm not sure if I want to live in Carrollton right close to the office, or if I might like to live downtown, or somewhere else. So this will give me an opportunity to see if I have a social life in Dallas and where the epicenter of that is. It also keeps me from having to pay rent. Which is a good thing. As long as I am staying at home, every dime I make is pure profit. So I want to save up for at least a couple of months just to have some money to stand on before I try to move out on my own and start accumulating nice things.

Since graduation all I've done is eat, sleep and drink. And its surprising how having NOTHING to do can keep you so busy. I am moving out of my apartment on Thursday. So I'll no longer live here. I think Friday, Allison and I are going to float the Guadalupe again, and then Monday, maybe flying to Miami. Our plans have changed slightly and may no longer include California. We shall see.

And last but not least ... HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARSHALL!!!!1!!!!!

I had the most fucked up dream last night. This one really took the cake. It was so long and weird that when I finally woke up, I jumped right out of bed despite the fact I'd only been asleep for a minimal number of hours. It started off with me and my entire family together in a car, and my dad making a wrong turn on a high overpass. Unfortunately, the way we went had no road and we plummeted like a 1,000 feet to our gruesome deaths. I remember thinking on the way down, as my stomach dropped, "Well, this is it," and experience a moment of extreme curiosity for what would happen after I died.

We were all instantly transported to what I guess would be the afterlife. The sky alternated red and blue, there were heavy clouds and lots of lightning. At first it was scary but then I realized it was actually quite beautiful. There were all kinds of people all living in their own little quarters, and I was sharing a house with my family. We met all kinds of people who taught us things about what it was like to be dead. One of them was how to return to Earth, which basically involved sky diving with no parachute. Once I got the balls to do it I went and checked in on all of my friends.

They had created some kind of twisted memorial to me that everyone I'd ever known had signed with a message for me. And I cried while I read them. I tried to return every now and again to check in on people, but time stopped moving linearly, and when it did it was inconsistent. Sometimes it would be the past, sometimes the distant future, and sometimes no time had passed at all. I rather liked the afterlife. There was always something to do, people to meet, things to learn. This is the first time in a dream that I've actually died, and I must say it wasn't too bad.

But I did wake up a tad disturbed. I ran over this dream again and again in my head to preserve some of the details. I have got to stop smoking crack. In other news, yesterday I went to Wal-Mart with Marshall and purchased a planter, some soil, and wildflower seeds. As of right now it is just a bucket of dirt, but I will keep you all filled in on their progress. I put in a shitload of seeds, I hope it grows like crazy.

My new goal is to buy a fish. I wanted to buy one spur of the moment last night but realized that I knew nothing about how to care for one. I will have to do my research, buy some equipment and get it set up before I buy Nemo. Again, you will all be the first to know when I do so. Hope your week is off to a good start. Be safe, and don't do anybody I wouldn't do.

A Sidesho-PSA from www.polaroid.com:

Question:
Ever since the song "Hey Ya" by Andre 3000 of Outkast came out, everyone is shaking their Polaroid pictures. I have always been told that you should not shake a Polaroid picture, but I'm having a hard time convincing those around me that this is true. What is the answer?

Answer:
The short answer is no, you don't have to (and shouldn't) "shake it like a Polaroid picture."

Shaking or waving a Polaroid picture to help the development process originated in the early days of peel-apart film. After peeling the negative, the image needed to dry before it could be handled, so waving the photo helped it to dry more quickly.

When using the integral films (600, Spectra, 500, SX-70/Time-Zero, i-Zone) that are used in our most popular current camera models (Polaroid One, OneStep, JoyCam, etc.), the image develops and dries behind a clear plastic window and never touches the air, so shaking or waving has no effect.

In fact, shaking or waving can actually damage the image. Rapid movement during development can cause portions of the film to separate prematurely, or can cause "blobs" in the picture.

The best way to ensure a perfectly developed image is to simply lay the picture on a flat surface immediately after it exits the camera. Shield it from the wind and avoid bending, twisting, or otherwise disturbing it during development. Image development time for Polaroid integral films is 3-5 minutes -- after an additional 5 to 10 minutes, the photo's colors will become richer and fuller.

I had my first big-boy interview yesterday. It was with a company called ■■■■■ even though I don't know what that stands for. Anyway, they make automated systems (just like me!). We were sitting in class on Tuesday when my prof said that whoever didn't go to this luncheon had to take a quiz, so we all went to go eat. I was done eating and decided I wanted a free pen, being as I love free pens. I got busted trying to steal one and had to talk to this woman about the company. Bear in mind, I am wearing my safety pinned sweatshirt and had my hair gloriously hawked.

Turns out their company was right up my alley and my senior project (which she had heard about) was in keeping with what they do so she told me to send her my resume and she would get me an interview. Lo and behold, not 24 hours later, there I am in the interviewing room in a new suit (yes, a suit). I think it went really well. I'm pretty stoked about it. If they make any offer, I'll probably take it. What a load off.

Then this morning I had to return to take their written exam. Gimme a break. They make all applicants take a test that goes over math, grammar, and personality. It was supposed to take at least 2 and a half hours (the untimed portion), but I finished the whole fucking thing in about an hour. It was ridiculously easy. All of the algebra and word problems were a total cinch, I wouldn't have used a calculator on them even if I had had one. Then the grammar came. That was even easier. They gave me a sentence to find the error in ... like:

But, if any of you have ever had a paper proofread, editted, or, god forbid, graded by me, then you know that it looked more like this in my head:

I breezed through that rather quickly determining which were complete sentences and which were fragments (something I've become quite good at after working with Sean) and deciding which version of (to/too) was correct (something Marshall would have certainly failed).

So that's my good news for now. I will keep you posted on the employment status of your favorite sidesho attraction. Peace out you have nots, and don't have to much fun.

Oh yeah: I almost forgot to mention. There was also a handwriting portion to the test. Which I also aced. Laaaaaaaaaaaate.

Since I forgot to go to Whataburger last night on the way home from the bar, I needed some breakfast taquitos this morning after class that I miraculously attended. This cute little old lady was standing next to me, very grandmotherly.

She gets her food and she goes, "I ordered sausage, this better not be bacon." And the girl working says, "Yes ma'am they are sausage." And the grandma says, "Good because if there's bacon in here, I'm going to come back, and I'm going to kill you."

So I busted out laughing, naturally. And after the old lady left the girl said, "We've had quite a morning. Just before you got here, a guy walked in and said, 'I'm the owner of Whataburger, I need something to eat and drink right now.' And my manager said, 'No you're not. Get out.' and the guy replied, 'YOU'RE fired and YOU'RE fired and YOU'RE fired'" to everyone working there while pointing at them.

Eh, i just thought it was pretty damn funny and gave me two great new ideas for how to behave in a fast food restaurant.