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I had a couple of firsts today. I've been riding the Vespa to work every day. I'm currently averaging 85 miles per gallon and I went an entire week without driving my car once. I'm over the learning curve hump and am actually starting to relax a little bit on my hog and enjoy the open air. I'm still cautious, though, because I check the weather every morning before I ride to make sure it isn't going to rain. Today's forecast said a 30% chance of rain, so off I went putting down the street. By lunch time the sky was starting to darken, so I ran out the door, hopped on my scooter and sped off as fast as I could toward home. My plan was to get home and drive my car right back.

I made it as far as Midway before the sky all around me turned black. Gale force winds blew leaves high in the air in swirling patterns and threw me from my balance a few times. I was already going slow, but I kept having to slam on the brakes and put my feet down. Not just to catch my balance but to then brace myself against the blast. It was so scary. And yet for some reason I was laughing and enjoying myself. When it finally started to rain, I pulled into the first parking lot I came to and ran inside. It was a delightful office furniture store with a very friendly staff. They advised me to park under the alcove of the front door so my scooter wouldn't blow over. One tree fell on a guy's car when I was there. It was an insane storm that only lasted about 30 minutes. But we all were like away from the windows and fearing the worst. When it cleared a bit I ran the gauntlet back home and all was well.

But it was the first time I've ridden my Vespa in a tornado. And hopefully the last.

My next first was when I got home from work. I decided to go by myself to a hip-hop dance class. My gym offers a different class every night and they're all free. So I've decided to attend them all. I have kick boxing on Thursday. Hip-hop dance was pretty fun. It was basically an instructor trying to teach me and 3 fat women how to do a dance routine. Only we were all terrible so it easily filled the entire hour. I wasn't too too bad, even though the kick-ball-change took me a while to get down. I'm definitely not a hip-hop dancer by trade. It doesn't lend itself well to my clear-a-one-arm-radius-in-front-of-the-mirror dance style. Even so, I still warned Daniel that when I got home, he was getting served.

She said next week we should bring a friend because we're going to be battling. Who's in?

I successfully rode the Vespa to work this week. It was a little unnerving at first, but once I got going, it was pretty comfortable. It did highlight the fact that I need to buy some gloves. 50 degrees doesn't sound cold until you're moving through it at 45mph. My hands hurt by the time I got to work. But I did it. On the way home it was so windy that I had a hard time balancing, so I found an alternate route home that took me entirely through residential streets. It took nearly 45 minutes, but it was way preferrable to braving the high winds on a major thoroughfare. I only did it one day because there has been questionable weather and high winds predicted every day this week, but I think it could become my main transportation throughout the summer months.

Daniel has been in Atlanta all week. Sunday was his birthday and he had to fly out for some training for his new job. Unfortunately, by the time his flight landed he was sick. He's had to miss out on most of the activities and just lie in bed. Being in a different city for work is bad enough. Not being able to drink must make it near unbearable. He comes home tomorrow though, which I'm pretty excited about. TV isn't any fun to watch when no one is there to hear your snide remarks.

Speaking of TV, I made another as-seen-on-TV purchase! Stephen's daughter's birthday is coming up in July and he said she would really like the Roll 'n Grow. The commercial shows a green foam pad that you roll out, water, and then an insane amount of flowers bloom from it. I hate to disappoint her this early in life by her finding out that not everything works like they show in the commercials, but I also hate to disappoint myself by not buying it for her. So I had to get it. She'll be excited to open it I'm sure. And as with every stupid purchase I make -- who knows? -- maybe it does work. We got on the topic because 20/20 did a big scientific study of Kinoki Pads. The bastards must have been reading my blog and stealing ideas. They couldn't get the company to produce any lab results to back up their claims. But I think the most telling demonstration was when they put distilled water on the pads and they turned brown. No labs could find any traces of toxins or heavy metals or whatever else they claim. Too bad, I was really hoping this would be a cure all for the human race. I guess the hunt is still on.

So I need another suggestion for TV purchases. The AeroGarden that Thommi suggested it a wonderful idea. It's a little expensive for an impulse buy, but then again, my birthday is just around the corner and I do love getting myself a little something special.

I need to go clean the apartment. As I guessed would happen, my intentions to keep the apartment pristine while Daniel was away failed miserably and now I have to make up for it within the next few hours. Late.

Old men confuse me. Maybe there's a magic age at which everything they do starts to make sense and I just haven't reached it yet. Perhaps on my 30th birthday everything will become clear. One thing that has always confused me is how old men insist on being naked in the locker room at the gym. Don't get me wrong; I'm no prude. I strip down to go into the sauna. The key difference is that almost immediately after disrobing, I wrap a towel around my waist to spare people the blinding reflection off my ass. Old men strip down, weigh themselves, wash their face, look in the mirror, talk to other old men, and then and only then do they throw a towel over their shoulder and flop over to the steam room. I don't get it. What's the fascination with being naked? Have their wives banned the practice at home for so many years that the only way to get the liberating sensation of free balling around a room is in a men-only environment? Do I have any old man readers that can explain this? Do I have any young readers that get a thrill from streaking?

I had to add another confusing trait to my quandary today at work. We have several old men there and they all share a perplexing act in another all-male venue -- the bathroom. They pee without using their hands. I've seen them put both hands up on the wall in front of them. Hands on the hips is also a very popular tactic. Today topped it all though. The new old guy was peeing with both hands in his pockets. How is this even possible? Do they just not care anymore if their stream wanders off onto the floor? Is there some sort of rigor that sets in after 40 that allows for steady hands-free aiming? It's so bizarre. Please, somebody, help me understand. Do I need to start practicing now for old age?

Another Febrehab for the annals. Although, it's basically still going on. I had one glass of wine with dinner the other night, but other than that I haven't had anything to drink. And I still haven't smoked any. I think I'm going to do something this Friday to get back into the swing of things. Perhaps Hooters?

I don't want to get too drunk, though because Saturday afternoon, I'm going to look at and possibly buy a Vespa. It is time for me to start riding a scooter that gets 100mpg to work and back. I can't see any flaws with this plan. If they have the exact one I want, I'm going to snag it. But if there are some hangups like needing a license or a parking pass or things like that, then I might just figure out which one I want and then go back the next weekend and get it.

Are you watching American Idol this season? This is the first time that I've watched every episode and I'm totally hooked. But ... if they don't get rid of Randy Jackson and Paula Abdul, I won't be watching it next season. There is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON for those two to be there. They both say the exact same thing about every singer every round. Randy Jackson says, "Aight, dawg, so hey, check it out. I thought that was good. It started out a little rough, a few pitch problems here and there, but you pulled it out at the end. It was good. Yeah." Then Paula chimes in and says, "Yes, yes, yes, I loved it, I love you, I want ... who ... let's give a hand ... all the ... do a ... job and ... I loved it." Then Simon tells the truth, or an honest assessment of the performance with a few constructive criticisms and the entire audience boos. I hate that so much.

They could definitely pare it down to just Simon and vastly improve on the format of the show. But until then, I guess I'll just shut up and keep watching. At least as long as Danny Noriega and David Archuleta are still in.

Man, almost a whole week has gone by and I haven't had a single craving for meat, booze, or cigarettes. What a complete let down. Febrehab is all about the masochism and this year it's been completely lacking. Although I gradually transitioned out of veganism into Taco Cabana last year, I still have kept many of my favorite vegan meals in the regular rotation. So when February rolled around this year, I just bought all the ingredients for all of those and noticed very little transition into the clean and wholesome.

But all of that is about to change.

I had to delay my master cleanse by one day so that the first day would fall on a Saturday. The logistics of mandatory meetings at work and stuff just didn't fit in with the cleanse. So I'm still doing it for 2 weeks, just shifted back a day. I cannot wait. I am all set up. I bought a scale today that measures weight, body fat percentage, body water percentage, muscle mass, BMI, and basal metabolic rate. It's pretty sweet. And naturally, I built a sweet spreadsheet to track everything. Then I set up the tripod in the other room so I can take daily pictures during the cleanse. If I lose like 20 lbs, then I can put the pictures together into an animated gif that shows me wasting away. I also bought myself this ridiculously massive thermos to carry around my lemonade concoction all day. I am so psyched. Everyone keeps asking me what would happen if.... What happens if I get hungry or sick or invited to dinner. They don't realize the extent I will go to.

I'm going to try to post more during the cleanse because that's interesting. So far the Febrehab has been boring. But, more on that, after this....

Last month, I finally paid off my mattress. It took a while, but at $100 a month, I managed to pay it off within the no interest period. So it's kind of like free money. I've been obsessing a tad over money. I feel like I finally mastered saving the stuff, since around 40% of everything I earn goes into savings of one type or another. Now I just need to figure out how to make money money make money money make. My 4.5% APY ING account, while a good place to stash cash for a rainy day, isn't exactly douching me with dividends.

I decided to take that $100 a month that I've freed up and instead of buying beer with it, like my original plan, I thought I'd invest it in the stock market. If I royally fuck up and lose $100 dollars a month, no big deal. So I did some research and decided to go with the advice I read on MSN money. I'm actually investing in 5 different ETFs. I don't know exactly what they are, but they are representative of larger categories of investment strategies, so I think someone is paid around 20 times what I am to decide what stocks to buy and sell each day to make sure my meager slice of the pie grows. So I'm investing in 33% US stocks (VTI), 25% foreign stocks (EFA), 17% US bonds (AGG), 17% real estate (IYR), and 8% commodities (IYM).

It costs me $4 to make a purchase, so to keep my costs down and returns high, instead of splitting my monthly investments five ways, I'm making one $100 purchase each month. And I just try to keep those five categories at that allocation at all times. It forces discipline in not always dumping money into whatever's hot at the moment, but truly diversifying for a long term goal.

I don't totally understand any of this, but all I know is that I put $100 into the Vanguard Total Stock Market VIPER (VTI) (US Stocks). I'm factoring in my broker's charge into my returns, so no net gain yet, but if you think about it as an actual investment of $96, then the current value of $98.63 for my portfolio isn't bad. That's around a 3% return, which if I'm remembering economics correctly equates to a 36% APR. Is that right? If it is that kicks ass. And I need to stop saving so much and start investing more.

If anybody would like to play along, I think you have all the information that I got from MSN Money. Just pop over to sharebuilder.com and get started. I'm really having fun pretending like I'm totally vested in how the market goes every day. It's a good little hobby, and hopefully with a little time, it'll grow to dollar amounts that I feel uncomfortable discussing on a public forum.

Since I know you've all been waiting with baited breath (if you've been eating anchovies), I've come to share the results of my experiment. I left a sacrificial beer out over night until it reached room temperature (which, oddly enough, when it's cold outside is around 75, although during the summer hovers closer to 65 ... must be the dew point). Parenthetical interjections aside, I am proud to announce that my digital thermometer plunged from 75 to 32 (as low as the thermometer goes -- d'oh, sorry I'll stop interrupting) in under 2 minutes. And that was with the beer not fully submerged so I could measure it!

I can now rest easy knowing that so long as I leave my largest tupperware container filled with salt water in the freezer, i can always have ice cold beer in under a minute. Whew! One less thing to worry about.

In other news, some fuck head screwed up my webpage the other night. Unfortunately for him, I check my comments about every 2 to 3 minutes. Jonny was his name. Whatever html code he had posted in my comments section automatically redirected me to some website that I had to click to enter. I was too scared to do it, though, because no good comes from that. But you, my faithful viewers, are inevitably braver than I (or on the library computer so who cares?). So I need you to go to http://usuc.us/j.php and tell me what it is. It even fucked up the inner workings of my webpage, so I had to go thru each entry with comments still open, open it in notepad, erase his damage, and then resync everything. It was quite a pain in the ass. Oh, and now, no html allowed in comments any more ('cept bold, italic and links). Fucker.

Also, just for the record, if you are ever redirected off of my website, then just shut down Internet Explorer. I never, under any circumstances, allow you to leave my website. All of my links always open in a new window. Just, y'know, in case this is an identity theft thing.

Whailp, I guess that's all I have to say. Fuck you, Jonny. The rest of you are cool. Peace out.

Have you people heard about this crap with Michael Richards? He's better known -- or rather, only known -- as that dude that played Kramer on Seinfeld. He was recently performing at the Laugh Factory. Two black guys were talking during his set and it pissed him off. He went on this tirade screaming the N word repeatedly peppered with a a few hearty "motherfuckers!" I suggest you all go to youtube.com and search for it if you haven't seen it yet.

He later apologized via satellite during Jerry Seinfeld's interview on David Letterman. It was pretty lame, as most public apologies are. Honestly, I'm not so much offended as a black man. I'm more offended as someone with a sense of humor. What he did was wildly uncalled for. When Steve Harvey had people not paying attention to his standup, he asked them what they did for a living and then made fun of "computer school." When Bill Burr was heckled in Philadelphia he went on a rant about how much Philly and their sports teams sucked. And the crowd loved it. When two black guys weren't paying attention to Michael Richards he wanted to lynch them and spouted racial epithets. The crowd gets up and starts to file out. He has since been banned from performing at the Laugh Factory.

I really think that heckling is as much a part of standup as standup is. It's all well and good to have a really polished act, but if you can't vibe with the audience and go with the flow, then you aren't really a very good comedian. And if you throw a tantrum when someone doesn't listen to you, then you're just a crotchety old man who is probably better suited to physical comedy in a sit-com setting.

I wonder if he would even be apologizing or feeling bad if somebody didn't happen to have a video camera during this performance. My guess is no. But what I really wonder is why he would perform in a Klan robe. Geeeheeheeezus, that's just asking for it.

I finally did it. I've waited for 2 full years and the other day, I just decided to do it. I'm speaking, of course, about curtains for my bedroom. I was really daunted by the task of keeping my vertical blinds up. I could take them down, but then I'd have to store them and I have nowhere to store them. And to cover them means curtain rod extenders and screwing into studs, and I know nothing about any of that. So I came up with an idea. Instead of big beautiful curtains, I got blackout fabric. It's thin, it's light, and it blocks 100% of the light. I measured each window, cut out a piece of fabric that fit it perfectly, folded the top over, put a few grommets in it and hung it on nails. I can take them down, put them up, fold them in half to get some heat in the winter -- you name it. From the outside it looks all white, just like the vertical blinds, and from the inside, all you see is the vertical blinds, just like the vertical blinds. I couldn't be happier with myself. I have had a string of successful projects. I hope it doesn't end. I can't wait to be hungover this weekend and spend allllll fucking day in bed.

Speaking of bed ... my sleeping is much better. I have been on time to work 3 of the 4 days this week. That's unheard of. I even started showering in the morning instead of at night because I have so much extra time. I was pretty ecstatic. That, sadly and predictably, has faded. I could feel myself building up a sleep debt as each day went by and this morning I finally had to pay it back. I was one hour late to work. Today, coincidentally, was also the day I got the results of my take-home sleep test. I no longer stop breathing 70-90 times an hour. Now it's 22. 22 is the magick number. The lady from the doctor's office asked me how I'd been feeling and I said, "Much better, but not great." And she said, "Oh, how funny. I was just about to say your test results look much better, but not great." At least I'm no longer severe and am now considered moderate. It's looking like the tonsil are going to come out. I'm shying away from it, but I know that I'll eventually do it. I'll keep you all posted.

I bought a pumpkin today. It was an impulse buy. All I wanted were the seeds. I tossed them with butter and salt and roasted them in the oven. They're delicious. My culinary skill grows little by little every day. I can add that to the list with roasted chicken and blueberry pancakes. Rawk.

Have you ever heard of the mosquito frequency? It's this thing that businesses are using to cut down on teenagers loitering outside. It emits a sound at around 17kHz. Apparently teenagers can hear it and it annoys the fuck out of them, but adults cannot hear it. Trey told me about it at work today so we googled it. I found an MP3 of the sound and hit play. It was maddening. Trey accused me of not really hitting play. He couldn't fuckin' hear it! It didn't take long for everyone 25 and under in my immediate area to come over and ask what the hell the sound was. Then Trey believed me it was real. Which is funny because I'm the one that didn't believe him it existed. We gathered up all the old people around us and not one of them could hear it. One guy put it as his ring tone on his cell phone. Apparently teenagers are also using it to their advantage to allow their cell phones to ring during class without the teacher hearing it. I thought it was fascinating enough to share it with you all. CLICK HERE to listen to the most annoying sound in the world. And tell me if you can hear it.

Methinks it's time for me to go to bed. Gotta stick with the sleep rules now that they're slightly effective. Night, sluts.

I am back in Addison! once again. I have managed to finagle a way out of going back to Seattle, at least for the immediate future. I wouldn't be half surprised if I spent at least one more week there. And that's okay. I don't mind occasional travel, it's just this trickery and moving of one's permanent residence that rubs me raw.

So anyway, you know how I'm like full of million-dollar ideas? I've been tossing this one around for a while and I finally figured it out. There hasn't been one plane ride in the recent future that I've not been near a screaming child. Why so many children commute between Seattle and Dallas I will never know. And I must reiterate to you parents, no one thinks your child is cute but you. Don't give me a chuckle and a shake of the head when your deformed looking twins shit their pants on descent and I have to smell it for 30 minutes. That's when I came up with my new airline. Ladies and gentiles, I present to you -- 21+ Airlines!

Just imagine the possibilities. Business travelers wouldn't have to put with with white trash parents that overcrowd the overhead bins with their strollers and rockers. You could actually sleep on the way home after a long week in another city. Boarding and unboarding of the plane would be quick and painless. Yes, 21+ Airlines is a fantastic idea. It might even be a cabin full of first class. And there is a two drink minimum. I'm going to be so fucking rich.

On my flight to L.A. (for my layover, those bastards) I was sitting next to a mother and her 5 year old daughter. The daughter would not stop screaming, kicking the chair in front of her, and crying because her ears were popping. And in between that she was overly excited because she was on her way to Disneyland. She told everyone on the plane she was going. She screeched to her dad a few rows up, "Thanks for taking me to Disneyland, daddy!" All would have been cute in the proper context ... say, a preschool. Or a playground. But on a plane, annoying. So I tried to sleep through the whole flight and when we landed, she siezed the opportunity to tell me she was going to Disneyland. And I said, "Really? Hmm, I don't think it's open this time of year." And the mom laughed, hit me, and said, "Oh, COME ON." But I don't even think the little girl heard me so we had a good laugh over it.

I brought the SkyMall magazine home with me from the plane. I want to order just about everything in there. I think I'm going to finally get some houseplants and then buy an automatic waterer so they might actually stay alive. And I want a hydroponic herb grower. And a gentle wake alarm clock. And a massage chair. And damn, I'm lucky I have no money otherwise it'd be gone.

I think first on my to-do list is to get my windows taken care of. I can't take that sun in my bedroom anymore. It won't be cheap but I think if I just get some heavy fabric, fold it to make it look kind of like vertical blinds, and just nail it to the wall behind the vertical blinds, no one will see it from the inside and no one will notice it from the outside. Unfortunately there's some "rule" against aluminum foil. Jerks.

I felt obliged to update right away because my brother said he was going to remove me from his Favorites list on account that I don't update much lately. I want you all to know that I am not going gentle into that good night, I've just been out of town so fucking much. So bear with me and keep coming back for more.

g*d, I have been dreading this post. You know how you just have too many stories to tell and then you don't tell them and they pile up to the point where you really would just rather let them go by the wayside? Well, no, none of you understand. All of your blogs died after a few months. Trust me, though, it's rough.

I've been in Seattle for over a week now. All in all I'm liking the city. I don't like the way people drive here though. They take the speed limit as some kind of "limit" for your "speed" instead of a starting point for negotiation that you automatically add 5mph to... y'know, like normal people. It's fucking annoying. The bigass van they gave me to tool around in more than justifies any kind of driving I feel like doing.

On Tuesday, I made some friends. For some reason I never have any trouble making friends when I'm living in a foreign city. I guess I'm just that fun, outgoing, and internet savvy. Their names are Phillip and Robin and they're my new SBFF. They live up on Capital Hill, which is a literal fucking hill that I have marched up and down countless times in the past week. It's been worth it though because we always have fun when I get to the top. They have this cat. Oh man, I have to tell you about this cat. It is half cat, half bobcat, and it's obvious in its markings and in the face that this is the case. He also has short ears like a bobcat. What they tell me is that a bobcat is the only feline other than a domesticated cat that can successfully mate with a domesticated cat. However, the babies are usually so retarded that they don't even make it full term. Well this cat beat the odds. His name is Webol. They calls him that because he wobbles when he walks. He looks like he's severely intoxicated when he walks. It is so damn cute. If he wants you to scratch his head, you have to use two hands -- one to stabilize him, and one to pet him. I'm not an animal person, but I like this cat.

So I've pretty much spent the week working some, and then meeting Phillip and Rob, or one or the other, for food and shopping and drinks. We went out pretty hard this weekend. Another city's gay clubs under my belt ... maybe that's not a good way to describe my collection of gay clubs. Anywho.

I am so ready to come home. I miss Daniel and the stoop and Coors Light and Mexican food and Whataburger and my couch and my TV and my bed and Salmie and J's. Good thing I'll be home just in time for Kaboomerang (what I was calling Kaboomtwon, but I'll conceed their name is better). Friday can't come soon enough. I've had fun here, but I want to come home. ARG. I'm going to be coming back to Seattle a lot.

I'm on the phone so this post is over.

I love Febreze. I love it. It's hard for me to imagine life before it. I have nearly every product they produce. I use "linen & sky" for my fabrics and "citrus & light" for my air effects. I just recently freshened up my pillows and blankets in my living room, which is really what spawned this whole blog. I'm nursing a healthy hangover and I've pretty much been wrapped up on the couch since I passed out here last night.

The only thing that bothers me about Febreze is their advertising. It's fucking ridiculous. NOBODY buys Febreze to spray on the carpet as they pick up toys. And housewives don't use it to freshen up jackets in the closet. What is it used for? I would estimate around 90% of Febreze's annual sales are to teenagers who smoke. Seriously. How many friends did you have in high school that kept a bottle of it in their back seat so they could hose down the car's interior after a night of cruising around smoking cigarettes? What they ought to show in their commercials is 4 kids sitting in the basement smoking weed from a hookah when their parents get home early, and as three of them race to disassemble and hide the evidence, the other one gets this sideways glacing smirk on his face and grabs the Febreze and starts spraying it everywhere. And then the parents come in and say, "We're home! The house looks great." And after the parents walk out, the kids all high five and then eat sour cream and onion potato chips and laugh.

I'm even willing to let Febreze have that idea for free. They can even have this, too -- the new print ad I just created for them. If you are the CEO of Febreze and want to hire me, please leave a comment. If you want to sue me for copyright infringement, then don't. Cheers!

Today was the first day since surgery that was not worse than the day before. In fact, today was better than yesterday. I want to emphasize that point. I'm to the point now where it feels like I have a raging case of strep throat. So not feeling great, but managing what I consider to be a naturally occuring level of pain. It's really encouraging. I can make it through the day with Motrin and use hydrocodone in the evenings. I wake up periodically throughout the night in a great deal of pain, but gargling with salt water quiets it down.

The last hurdle I need to get over is eating. Swallowing in and of itself isn't truly that painful anymore, but the open sores in my mouth do dictate certain rules. Temperature is a big issue. Food can neither be cold nor hot. Room temperature is okay, lukewarm is better. Anything outside of an acceptable 3 degree range results in about a 10 minute attack. Food can also contain no salt, pepper, or spice of any kind. Tonight I made my mom's homemade mac 'n' cheese thinking that milk, cheese, and pasta couldn't possibly hurt. It was far too hot and salty. I had to chase every bite with a gulp of lukewarm water. It's resulted in me feeling quite bloated. Ouch. Oh yeah, burping hurts like hell.

On the upside, the past two days I have gotten up early with very little problem. I don't want to celebrate prematurely, but it seems like this procedure may have made a major improvement on my ability to sleep. Maybe. Hopefully. I hope.

Um mumumumum. I think that's all I have to say. I can't think of any products to place. Ummm, drink Johnny Walker Black. It's scrumptious. g*d, I can't wait until I can drink again. I'm bakin' cookies. Later sluts.

Ding, dong, the witch is dead. Which old witch? My fucking uvula!

I went in for my post Pillar Procedure prognosis and they said I was healed up nicely. They mentioned how big my uvula is, I said I fucking hated it and wanted it gone, 60 seconds later it was over. Once again, I had to get numbed up which involves sucking on a foam popsicle soaked in syrupy medicine. Once again, I got injections in my soft palate. Then he took a laser and sliced my fucking uvula off. It was so wretched having that burning flesh smoke in my mouth and nose again. In fact, I've been trying to mask the flavor all day with popsicles. It's worth it though, because that fucker is gone. Mwahahaha.

Since I wasn't planning on having any surgery, I wasn't planning on blogging, so now I have to fill in some more info. I was planning on doing some more product placements, so we'll proceed with that. FridgeTape, ya'll. This shit kicks ass. It's almost as thin as normal tape, but it's magnetic. You can put it on the back of pictures when you put them on the Fridge. It has helped me get rid of all of my ugly ass old magnets and allow you to see the entire picture. I couldn't live without it. Sorry there's not much more to say about that, it's pretty fucking self-explanatory, so go buy some.

I should start charging money for advertising that sweet. Aaaanywho, as you can well imagine, I got pain pills today, so it's time for me to go abuse prescription drugs and take an 8 hour nap. Laaaaaaaaate.

I'm pretty sure I've used that title before, but I'm too lazy to check. Tonight I finally got around to filling my new subscription to Nexium, the little purple pill. They really are pretty. It's for acid reflux. I really don't think I have acid reflux, being as I never experience acid refluxing. But, my doctor seems to think the elongated uvula (yes, that's what this is about) may be a sign of night time acid regurgitation. They said it would be expected if it was longer in the morning and shrunk throughout the course of the day, because snoring can do that. But since it's just fucking long, and always is, I thought I'd give this a try. C■■■■ confirmed for me tonight that the uvula is disturbingly long when viewed in person. So next time we hang out, ask me if you can see it. I do love showing it off.

I caught myself just short tonight of saying, "Man, ever since I started going to doctors, it seems like I take a lot more pills." Stoopid, I know. But it's true, dude. Sometimes I feel like a bit of a hypochondriac desperately trying to treat all these problems I may or may not have. My new philosophy though is, if it dudn't hurt, then I'll try it.

I spent most of the day today running around town with C■■■■. We met up with Kelly and Alexander for an evening of yachting. I think you'll all be pleased to know that my skills at driving a yacht have greatly increased. I finally learned how to negotiate the waves in front of you to keep the boat from jumping all over the place and causing bottles, flip-flops, and people to fly off the back. A little more practice should do the trick. That's why we're going back out tomorrow. I smell like the damn lake right now, I gotta take a shower. The water was so warm that we actually swam for a while. I dominated Kelly in a swimming race. I stiiiiilllllll got it.

Kelly told me they were gonna get some jet skis soon. I told her, "I am gonna drive that jet ski SO slow. Totally reasonable. You're gonna believe it!"

It's been a pretty good weekend thus far. Too bad it's almost over. I need a damn vacation. Nothing of the sorts on the horizon, so I'll just have to make [do? due?]. HA! I just said doodoo. Hilarious. Peace out, sluts!

Aight, so check it. Remember that movie Lorenzo's Oil? It was that movie where Susan Sarandon had a son that went retarded. He had an absurdly rare disease that no doctors could cure, so she took it upon herself to find a solution. After falling asleep on a stack of books, she decided to pump her son full of vegetable oil and then everything was fine. (That's a brief summary. If you ever take 9th grade science, you should watch it for yourself.)

That's how I feel right now. There is something so wrong with me, so rare, so inexplicable that it's going to be up to me to figure out how to fix it. I am in the midst of a round of meeting with very expensive doctors not covered by my insurance plan. I have a few more to see before I make my decisions. I could just trust one and go with it, but everyone seems to have a different idea -- and also tells me the others are wrong. Right now, I'm basically double checking my hypothesis with a few different specialists. I know no one and nothing can promise to help me, I just want to make sure I don't do any permanent damage to myself.

My basic idea is this. If no one idea is right, maybe they all are. So this is what I'm going to do (barring any doomsday predictions from a specialist). First, I need to clear a path for some air to get into my lungs while I'm sleeping. That's going to involve some demo. Good bye, tonsils! So long self-elongating uvula! That's only half the journy of the air though. Hello, rhinoplasty! I'm going to have my deviated septum corrected to increase airflow through my nose. Of course, all of this new real estate won't do much fucking good if my throat is collapsed in the gap. So I will have 3 foam pillars inserted into my soft palate to keep it from falling. And to make sure that my jaw doesn't fall backwards into my reinforced palate, I will get a TAP (Thornton Anterior Positioner). This is a specially designed "retainer" that you wear at night that pulls your mandible forward to keep the airway open. If all of that doesn't work, I will reintroduce the CPAP to supply sufficient air.

Why the fuck not? You don't need your tonsils or uvula, and my tonsils are huge. An ENT (ear nose and throat) doctor will confirm this for me. There are no adverse effects to having a firmer soft palate. A retainer never hurt anyone. I think the combo punch is going to be the only way to fix myself. If all of that doesn't work, then breathing isn't my fucking problem and my "peculiar REM brain waves" the doctor witnessed will have to be addressed by a neurosurgeon. Let's pray to Chuck Norris that isn't the case.

This is going to be horrendously expensive, since all the work will be done by specialists. My insurance won't cover the majority of it because it's all elective. And don't get me started on how painful it is to have your tonsils out as an adult or have your deviated septum undeviated. But I'm ready and willing. I'm sick of this shit and I'm puttin it to rest.

I thought that it might be fun today to play a little game with all of you. I've obtained an exclusive photograph of a celebrity trash can. Given the three options, you have to guess whose trash it is. Ready? Here we go.

Is the answer A: British soccer stud and metrosexual posterboy David Beckham, B: International super model and reality TV emcee Heidi Klum, orrrrrr C: internet megalomaniac and google addict SideshoViD.

If you said C, you're right! You win everything behind door #1. Now take my trash out, idiot. Do you think it says anything about my lifestyle that I'm overflowing with empty cases of beer, empty cans, empty cigarette packs, and empty pizza boxes? I think it means I need to buy more beer, cigarettes, and pizza. Am I right?

Really, it is getting out of control and while it's all going to be going away during Febrehabruarii, I think it might be prudent to wean myself a little before then. I don't want to put my body in shock. Speaking of, is anybody else doing Febrehabruarii?

Hope you all had a good New Year's party and were hungover like it's 2006. Peace out skillets.

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 have read on the internet again and again and again that using a simple Brita water filter, one can turn ordinary squeezy vodka into a top shelf delight. Being the scientifically minded alcoholic that I am, I just had to try this for myself. Mr. K■■■■■■ and myself set out for the Goody Goody liquor store to get the required materials. I didn't want to simply recreate experiments that have already been done, and this may have affected my results. Most websites I've read involve good, okay, and shitty vodka. After filtering half of the shitty vodka, a blind taste test ensues. Ours was a little different. However, our hypothesis was the same:

Is this the equation to unlimited high-quality, low-cost booze? We decided that cape cods would be our vodka drink of choice. We could have taken straight vodka shots, but I wanted to add a hint of applicability. I'm not gonna say I never drink vodka straight and dance in my underwear to Neil Diamond, but I'm more inclined to have a cocktail. Our two vodkas were McCormick and Effen. I'd never had Effen before, but I just thought it was too much fun to ask for some "Effen vodka." The price differential was over 20 dollars.

The idea here has to do with the distilling and filtration process that vodka producers go through. Many of them use simple carbon filtrating to remove impurities from the vodka. The impurities are what can change the flavor of the alcohol, so if you go a few steps beyond the distillery and run it through the Brita a few times, you're going to be left with a Brita basin full of Greygoose. Seemed unlikely, but plausible. g*d, i'm like my own Myth Buster.

After filtering half of the McCormick twice, we poured ourselves a couple of drinks with the unfiltered variety. I measured out an ounce and a half, since we like our drinks with a little stank on em. The bite was quite intense. After the initial wince, it went down a little easier. I had a few friends over to join in on the taste test. It was good times. We decided that the unfiltered McCormick was most decidedly vile. But, what could twice through a filter accomplish?

On to the filtered vodka. Conclusion? Nasty. There was the same unpleasant taste we'd experienced before. We'd all had a few drinks at this point, and were worried that the intoxication level might taint the experience. Mr. K■■■■■■ was the first to be ready for an Effen vodka cape cod. On his first sip, he started laughing hysterically. I asked him repeatedly what was so fucking funny and all he could do was hand me his glass. I took a sip and joined him in a hearty laugh. It was sooo good. Unbelievably better. From that point on, we called the experiment over and all stuck to Effen for the rest of the night.

There are several X factors involved here. If any of you have tried this differently, with different vodka, straight, blind, or otherwise, let me know if it worked for you. Because for us, it was most definitely BUSTED. Life is too short to drink cheap liquor. Write that down.

But we all got drunk. And if you get drunk, then you have to ultimately call it a success. Hurray!

Today was the best trip of my vacation thus far, and it has nothing to do with the fact that it's my last day in New Jersey. We had to do a lot of work in a high school that involved going into classrooms. Since we couldn't do the work while class was in session, we planned on working from 2-11 today. My coworker, insistent that I not leave New Jersey without having at least a little bit of fun, decided to include me on his trip to the beach in Seaside Heights.

It was too much fun. It looks like a Coney Island or something. There's a boardwalk with shops and restaurants and bars and arcades all up and down the beach. It was absolutely dead since it was a Thursday morning and it's after Labor Day, but it was still fun. I want to come back here on vacation some summer to see it rawkin'. The beach was really nice. It was 80 degrees and sunny and just a gorgeous day to spend sunning. We even went down into the water and body surfed on these enormous waves. I got my ass so kicked. I was riding some waves that were way too big to be riding. I drank enough sea water to last me for the rest of my life.

I rode this one particular wave that was too big. When I stood up, I gasped for breath and immediately got hit by another wave. When I finally came up for air, I was stumbling through the rip current and stepped down right on top of something sharp. I kind of hop-skipped and then looked at my foot. There was a little dot of blood, so I was pissed that I'd scraped my heel. That led me to take a break from body surfing. The blood kind of ran out and formed a blood/sand cover for the wound, so I wasn't worried about it. We laid out a while longer and then drove back to my hotel.

I decided I should probably clean my scrape, but when I was washing it in the tub, there were two little piece of sand that wouldn't wash off. And it hurt like hell when I touched it. I realized they were stuck in my foot. No biggie. I went to get my tweezers and pull them out. I grabbed a hold of the first one and started pulling. Oh, it came out. It came out a little bit, then a little more, then some more, and then some more. It was a long ass little piece of some kind of crustaceon. It hurt like a fucking bitch to pull it out and then started bleeding profusely. Then I turned to the next one. It was even bigger and hurt so bad when I tried to pull it out that I stopped. My coworker tried to pull it out but he couldn't. After calling around to find out where the nearest hospital was, I decided to just giterdone myself. So I grabbed it with the tweezers, bit down, and pulled. It was like a good inch long and completely inside my foot. This one hurt even worse and bled even more. In fact, it spurted out blood. So gross.

Anyway, I'm okay now. It doesn't appear to be infected. I've been limping all day, but really the only reason I told you about this is because I used my camera phone to take a picture of it and I wanted you all to see it. Kthanks.

Okay, I've got a couple for all of you Google-Earthers out there ... or is it Googler-Earths? Check out [43.8789746068,-103.459672608] and [34.1341770342,-118.321979438]. They are both really cool if you turn on "terrain" and then tilt it to the max. If you don't have any idea what I'm talking about, you need to get your ass to earth.google.com, stat! (Did you know the term "stat" is an abbreviation for the Latin word statim, meaning "immediately?" I didn't. I just googled it.)

I encourage all of you to find something cool, obscure, recognizable and post it on a comment here.

Lately I have been really into trying these local dives around town. It started with the Rainbow Cafe -- I know, I know, big shocker that I went there. But it's actually just a great little soda fountain eatery in beautiful downtown Carrollton. I don't think they've remodeled (or cleaned) since 19dickity4. They have a big rainbow awning over their soda fountains and make shakes and stuff. They also have the most kickass hamburgers and they come with a figurative BUCKET of tater tots. There are so many of them that I have to put some in my zipper pocket to eat later.

Then after Brett S■■■ and I woke up on Sunday (at 9:00am, for some ung*dly reason) we tried to go to IHOP but the line was too long. So we drove a bit further and came upon Pete's Cafe -- "Come on in, for Pete's sake." Too clever and they served breakfast all day long. Our waitress's name was Doris, she was a delightful 60-something woman who called me "honey." Her birthday was last week. It just could not have been more quaint, and the food kicks ass too. Brett wasn't feeling 100% so when asked what he'd like to drink, he said, "A big ol' whoppin' glass of water." Why he said that, we both may never know. Drugs is cool. But Doris brought me my coffee and water, and the brought Brett the biggest glass they had. Too funny. Doris is a sweetheart and I can't wait to see her again.

Then today when I left work to go get something done at the public library (on account that the noise levels in my office are raising my blood pressure rapidly), I happened by this place only called "Donuts" that I've driven past 100 times. I decided to stop in. The requisite little Asian woman behind the counter greeted me. I had 3 different kinds of kolaches, all of which were fantastic. She even warmed them up for me in the microwave and snuck 4 different kinds of donut holes onto my plate when I wasn't looking. I sat at this oooold-skool bar while I ate. A donut shop with a bar? So rad.

Look, buddy, all I'm tryin' to say is that there's more to life than Smith and Wollensky's, Pappas Bros, and Three Forks. All of which sound just delicious right now. Maybe I'll go there tonight. I'm getting my hair did tonight, though, so it might have to wait until tomorrow. I expect that when I return from Cincinnati, myself and the Addison Circle will be hitting up these delightful restaurants?

Now get GOOGLING EARTH!

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.

And now we run into the age-old blogging problem of having nothing to say. I don't often fall victim to the inspiration hiatus that kills so many virgin blogs (and burns.tk) but lately I have. Not that the actual excitement level of my life has changed per se, i'm just not expending as much energy trying to jazz it up. I kept waiting for something obviously bloggable to happen, but when that never came to be, I decided to give you one of these apologetic posts.

I have a new friend. He hates me. He's a long time Sidesho-viewer whose distaste for the Sidesho began with an innocuous LJ comment where I determined his use of the word "ironic" needed a little dictionary.com help. It was innocent enough, I thought. Anyway, long story short, he IMed me to tell me that he hated me, I naturally invited him out for a beer, and now we're friends. Yay!

It's pretty much a sure thing now that I won't be going to Australia in July. My debt, coupled with the higher-than-anticipated costs of airfare, have motivated me to follow Delilah's advice and postpone the trek until February. Plus, February is Gay Pride Month on that kooky island. That's something you don't want to go through life without experiencing. I am still sorely disappointed that I'm not going, though, y'know? Say lah vee.

Perhaps this next week will be a non-stop roller coaster ride of thrills, chills and nunchuck skillz. Peace out, skillets.

I called a maid today. But she didn't answer, nor did she call back. I'm not sure how professional that is. There was a flyer on my door today making similar claims to the last flyer that I had. Hey, remember that time that that girl running for class president gave me a flyer and I rolled it up and smoked it right in front of her?! Vote for Carrie! Or that girl that had misspelled her name on a stack of a few hundred flyers? Vote for Krisitna! Hahaha. Where was I?

Oh yeah, so another indication that this is not a super professional operation is that there were two numbers on the flyer that you could call -- either Lily or Joanna. I called Joanna because I figured she would be the easier of the two to haggle with, since Lily is the better looking one. How do I know that Lily is better looking? Let me ask you this. Have you ever met an ugly Lily? And have you ever met an ugly Joanna? Case closed.

Hopefully she'll call me back tomorrow. I left her a message. I have come to the fabulous conclusion that I am fundamentally incapable of taking care of myself. But what I am entirely capable of is throwing money at a problem until it goes away. In my defense though, I have been wholly dedicated to the sleep rules and it is really starting to pay off. So by the time I get off work (which has been later and later lately), come home and veg, get to the gym for my daily workout, and back home to finish eating, it is time to start the wind-down process before bed. It leaves me very little time to clean, and any time I have to clean is going to be spent drinking, believe you me. I haven't had a drink in almost a week and that is just unacceptable.

This weekend is Taste of Addison here at Addison Circle. That means one thing to me -- that I won't be able to get to my apartment for a few days. But Lindsay invited me to go with her and some coworkers on Saturday. And I think Will is going to join us. How fun is that? Stupid fun! Yay, czech you skillets later.

Well, I thought that Backstreet joke was funny, anyway.

A new goal of mine: just once, just once, I would like to sleep through an entire night. I had talked to Edward S■■■■■ about this, since he has first hand knowledge of my sleep apnea and a medical degree, and he referred me to some websites where I could find a sleep clinic. They had their 10 good sleep habits, and I've decided to adhere to them come hell or high water for a while and see if it can help me without a doctor's visit. And the gooooood habits ARE! --

1. Maintain a Regular Sleep Schedule. It will be helpful for you to maintain a regular bedtime and arise time on both weekdays and weekends. Failure to do so, for example, by frequently staying up late can reset your internal biological clock to a later bedtime, leading to a circadian rhythm disorder called "delayed sleep phase syndrome." Also, it’s especially important to avoid "sleeping in" in the morning after a night of poor sleep. Instead, you should arise at the same time every morning, on both weekdays and weekends, regardless of how poor the prior night’s sleep has been. Although this can be difficult to initiate at first, it can, after a few weeks, help normalize your sleep-wake rhythm, and increase your sleep efficiency. (Guilty)

2. Get Enough Daylight. Lack of sufficient daily exposure to sunlight is often partially responsible for people’s difficulty in sleeping at night (daylight is a powerful regulator of the circadian cycle). It’s beneficial for you to spend at least 30 minutes per day outside, in natural sunlight, preferably during the first hour or two in the morning. If you’re unable to do so, try for a minimum of 30 minutes per day in strong artificial light. (Guilty)

3. Avoid Post-Lunch Caffeine. Most people know that that the intake of caffeine and similar stimulants in the afternoon and evening can interfere with falling asleep and remaining asleep at night. Most clinicians therefore advise avoiding caffeinated coffee, tea, and carbonated beverages for the rest of the day after lunch, as well as caffeine-like substances found in chocolate, cocoa, and in some weight-control aids, pain relievers, diuretics, and cold and allergy remedies. Some individuals are highly sensitive to caffeine and should stop use entirely. (Guilty)

4. Avoid Daytime Napping. With some exceptions (for example, in some cases of insomnia in the elderly), daytime napping solves only a short-term problem of fatigue, and it can contribute to the long-term development of insomnia at night, by disrupting normal sleep-wake rhythms, as noted earlier. In most cases, you should eliminate napping. (Guilty)

5. Make Your Bedroom Quiet and Comfortable. Insomniacs often overlook the fact that their bed and bedroom may not be as quiet or comfortable as they could be to promote restful sleep. It’s wise to assess for any disruptive lights, sounds, temperatures, or touch sensations and adopt whatever measures are necessary to reduce or eliminate these discomforts (for example, using eyeshades, earplugs, a low-volume background sound, or a new mattress or pillow). A bedroom temperature of 65° F is recommended for good sleep. (Guilty)

6. Avoid Alcohol Within Two Hours of Bedtime. Aside from the risk of developing alcoholism, it’s not productive to use alcohol as a sleeping aid, despite the popular notion that an evening "nightcap" promotes sleep. Research has shown that although one to two drinks within two hours of bedtime may assist with falling asleep, it tends to disrupt subsequent sleep by increasing later wakefulness. Also, alcohol intake prior to bedtime tends to relax the muscles of the throat and to suppress awakening mechanisms, thereby making snoring and sleep apnea episodes more likely, sometimes to the point of being life-threatening. (Guilty) (Guilty) (Guilty) (Guilty)

7. Avoid Smoking Nicotine Products Within Two Hours of Bedtime. Aside from the health risks associated with smoking, it‘s not productive to smoke up until bedtime. Like caffeine, nicotine is a central nervous system stimulant, and evening smoking tends to increase heart rate and blood pressure as well as stimulate brain activity in ways that are incompatible with sleep. Also, nicotine withdrawal symptoms during the night can contribute to wakefulness. People who stop smoking are likely to sleep better after 10 days of abstinence. (Guilty) (Guilty) (Guilty) (Guilty)

8. Avoid Large Meals Within Two Hours of Bedtime. Although a light snack before bed can be beneficial, consuming large meals in the late evening is not recommended. It can be sleep-incompatible to assign your gastro-intestinal tract the task of digesting a large meal at night, and it can increase the risk of heartburn during the night. (Guilty)

9. Avoid Exercise Within Two Hours of Bedtime. As part of the circadian cycle, core body temperature begins to decrease in the late evening, and this assists with falling asleep and remaining asleep later. Engaging in vigorous exercise within two hours of bedtime can be counter-productive because it tends to raise core body temperature and activate the nervous system. In the interest of improving sleep, the best time to exercise is in the late afternoon. (Guilty)

10. Wind Down Before Bedtime. Insomniacs commonly complain of physical tension and mental alertness when they should be sleeping. In the interest of physical relaxation and mental calm, it’s wise for you to wind down for one to two hours before bed by engaging in an enjoyable, relaxing activity. During this wind-down period, you should avoid working, studying, talking on the telephone, arguing, watching exciting television shows, reading exciting books, and so forth. (Guilty)

So as you can see there is definite room for improvement. Last night I put the thermostat down to 65 degrees and it made a world of difference. Fuck the electrical bill, that was heavenly. Also, I didn't drink, smoke, or workout less than two hours before bed and I went to bed at a reasonable hour. I also turned my clock away from my bed so I can't read the time. That was the biggest improvement. I really think this could make a big difference. The hard part will be sticking to my resolution, like tonight when we celebrate (mourn?) Sean leaving Dallas for Boise, Idaho-no-youdaho. Til then!

For once, I am going to make good on a future-blog promise and tell you all about the dweeb we are here with. He has a lot of names, actually. Dweeb, Poindexter, Imp, and Alfred E. Newman. I wasn't aware of this fact, but apparently Alfred E. Newman is the name of the character on the front of MAD Magazine. This kid looks EXACTLY like him; I'm so not even kidding. Buckteeth, big ears, and stupid butt-cut hairdo. Normally I wouldn't make fun of someone for the way they look, but after two weeks, this kid is on my last fucking nerve. And you all know what a nice guy I am. Right? ... Right? Fuck you.

Everything I describe is probably going to sound really petty, but it's just one of those things where it wears on you and wears on you until he can do no right. I find myself disagreeing what whatever he says, just for the sake of disagreeing. So far on this trip, we have been doing a lot of drinking. I mean a lot of drinking, and yet, I have only been drunk once (Friday night). They just have a wealth of great beers and we've been stopping into a pub to enjoy a beer or two with Paul the Englishman. We knew we were in trouble the first night when Poindexter ordered water at the bar. "I'm not much of a drinker." He stared as us the entire time we were there until he finally excused himself early. He does that every night now, always in bed by 8. What a waste of a vacation. "Fancy that," Paul said, "Not even being able to enjoy one beer when he's in a pub."

We've made sure everyone here knows he's not a typical American. "He's not a typical anything," seems to be the common response. So he don't drink, he don't smoke, and he goes to bed early every night. Aight, whatever. He'd also never played pool before in his life. Now I'm no pool shark. Being as I grew up with a table maybe I should be, but I still warn people before I play them that I am "no good." So when he warned us he was "no good" I thought he meant he would miss some of the long shots, or suck at banking, or not really know how to use English on the cue ball. HA! If he knew HOW TO USE THE CUE BALL. This fool steps up to the table, grabs the cue stick about halfway down the shaft leaving a huge dead weight behind him he can barely control and takes aim at the 12 ball. Unfathomable. No matter how bad you are, you should at least know to hit the white ball.

Aight, whatev. Maybe biljards aren't his thing. So we play darts another night. Kid has never thrown a dart in his life nor does he have any concept of how to play. Incidentally, I am pretty good at darts now after playing almost every night with Keith and Paul. The other night we were at our favorite little bar here and this guy came in and asked if maybe he could play with us on teams. Sure, what the hell. This dude ends up being ranked like #8 in all of Scandinavia. It was the most incredible thing I've ever seen. We were playing cricket and he would close out like 3 numbers each turn. The guy could tell you where his dart was gonna go and it would go there. I can tell you which quadrant of the board I'll land in, not much more. Keith and Paul headed back to the hotel but I wanted to play more darts so I stayed out late learning from this guy. I improved my game like 100 fold. I was nailing 1 or 2 triple 20's every throw. It was fun.

This is going to be the longest blog ever. Bear with me. So now he's not much of a drinker, not much of a smoker, not much of a pool player, and not much of a darts player. These are starting to add up. But I guess that's cool that he likes to be responsible during the week. That's understandable. The weekends, though, that's when the fun begins. Foreign country, dude! What happens in Sverige, stays in Sverige, right? There's a casino here that I suggested maybe we could check out. Unfortunately, he's "not much of a gambler." Good fuckin' xrist. So I invited him out to Étage with me. He's "not much of a club goer." On Monday when he asked me how my weekend was I said, "Omega, crazy fun. You?" "Well... I don't know how crazy it was [ed: all condescending like] but I saw some parks and canals and really interesting stuff." The only thing homeboy did all weekend was walk around town like we've done a thousand times before. The parks are just empty squares scattered around town, and the canal is just a canal. Nothing to see there.

I don't care if somebody is a nerd, though, as long as they're cool. This guy is nothing of the sort. We went out pretty late on Thursday and that Friday I was a little late to breakfast, a little achy, and a little dehydrated and he says to me, "Heh, that's what you get for starting your weekend on Thursday," a reference to my earlier description of how often I drink which goes: "Monday is Funday, Tuesday is Boozeday, Wednesday is Humpday and Thursday starts the weekend!" If my head hadn't been swimming, I would have jumped over the table and beat him. Then the other day walking back from lunch, Keith and I were enjoying our post-meal cigarettes. He gets this smirk on his face. That's how you can tell he's about to say something that will inevitably be fucking stupid, but he thinks it's clever. He turns to us and says, "You know, I hear that lung cancer is a painful way to die." And I said, "You know, I hear running your fucking mouth is a painful way to die." ... Okay, I didn't say that but I did think of it later.

The four of us go to dinner together every night. It's the most painful part of the day because we have to sit there with the dweeb. He is such a conversation killer. Anything we talk about he kills by saying something retarded, so we generally eat in silence waiting for him to go back to the hotel and then we talk about our days. And we've all kind of taken a turn picking up the tab. We are expensing our meals so it's all free, and if you pick up the tab for a co-worker, that can go under entertainment expenses. And since the only things we really have to talk about are work-related, that's totally kosher. And since I've only paid for dinner about every third night, accounting will certainly notice that I've had my tab picked up other people enough to further justify my reciprocation. Right now you should be thinking to yourself, every third night? Didn't you say there were four of you?" Man, I can't get anything by you. Poindexter refuses to pick up a tab. We started noticing the pattern after the first week and talked about it after he left. We agreed he was OBVIOUSLY the most socially inept person alive so he probably didn't realize he needed to pick one up. So we blatantly said, "Alright dude, it's your turn tonight." And he refused!

He is afraid that he won't be able to expense it since it's entertainment, although I suspect he just has moral conflicts with paying for beer. But still, come on, we all work for the same fucking company, they WILL reimburse it. Especially if you haven't paid for a since dinner yet since you've been to Sweden. g*d, this kid pisses me off. He's just one of those people that when you catch him looking at you, you just kinda wanna smash his face in. But you don't because you are a pacifist.

You should see him at breakfast. It's one of the oddest things I've ever seen. Dude will get about 12 slices of bread ... all different kinds. And he'll proceed to eat them... dry... with nothing to drink. And when he's done with that, he gets up and gets a bowl full of this granola-nut-muesli cluster concoction. It's very hearty, European cereal. He proceeds to eat the whole bowl ... dry. I like it just fine, but I soak mine with milk for a while before I eat it or else I just feel like a horse. And when he's done with that, he gets up and gets a plate full of crackers... and eats them dry. He is so fucking weird.

He actually reminds me a lot of my fourth college roommate, Clark. He's got that same irritating manner about him, which leads me to suspect this kid is a hardcore x-tian. Thank jebus I only have to see him one more day, and then with any luck, never, never again.

If there's anything I like more than getting vacation days from work, it's making my own vacation days. Like right now, for instance. I'm totally supposed to be at work, but I'm not. Nor do I intend to go back any time soon. You see, I woke up around 9, on account that I had a lot to drink last night. And since I wasn't at my own apartment, I was significantly tardy to work, but I brought kolaches so nobody cared. Then I took a nap, and when I woke up, I realized that I was sick of being there, so I came home. Get an education, kids, and you too can live this fabulous lifestyle.

I've watched some good ass TV today. First I watched that episode of Saved By The Bell where they drink at the toga party and then Zach wrecks Lisa's mom's car. It was really hard hitting. Zach keeps his cell phone in his locker because it's too effing huge to carry it with him. Now I'm watching Jerry Springer: "MY UNCLE STOLE MY WIFE!" It's fantastic. This is what my life has come to. I am going to go back to work eventually, though, so don't worry.

On the way home today, I saw a tricked out Cavalier. A straight up, tricked out, pimped out Chevrolet Cavalier! It was so fucking sweet. It had flames down the side and shit. I am way jealous. After I get back from Australia and have all new furniture, I am so going to mod my Cavy.

This week is absolutely dragging by. There is so little to do at work that I'm basically going to put 40 hours this week on the overhead account. No managers are there, so I just kinda sit and stare at the wall. Good thing I learned how to do this effectively during my first couple months here. I hope every one of my readers is having as big of an impact on the world as me. Laaaaaaaaaate.

Walking back from Yoga I saw a large crowd of people gathered around the Sul Ross statue outside of the Academic Building. My curiosity piqued, I ventured closer to find out which insane right wing christian group was starting shit. The only reason I did so is because occasionally someone will be out there yelling the word "VAGINA!" and I love playing Vagina Day games. As I got closer, I recognized the all too familiar foul stench of Tom S■■■, nationally known campus speaker. My natural instincts are to turn and run from this man, not because I'm intimidated (although I've witnessed first hand his ability to talk his way out of any logical situation) but because I think the only way to send a message to him that he's not wanted is to ignore him, not argue with him. Arguing with him is just what he wants.

Against my better jugement, I decided to see if Owen was sitting out there listening to him. Owen has some sick fascination with Tom S■■■, as well as Mormons and his friend Adrian. Alas, he was not out there, but I made the mistake of coming within earshot long enough to hear him say something about homosexuals. Then I was stuck. Here's his story pretty ver batim (that means 'word for word,' Joseph).

"I was talking up at the University of Maryland one day and a young man who identified as gay said, Tom, do you think we should kill all the homosexuals? And I said we need to save them. And he said again, Tom, do you think we should kill all of the homosexuals? And again, I said that if they found Jesus etc, he said TOM, do you think we should kill all the homosexuals?

"And this went on for about a half an hour before I finally decided to address this young man's question directly. And I said yes, I think we should kill all of the homosexuals. But first, why don't we start with the young man that corrupted and perverted you, the one who made you think you were gay. And he stopped, and his face softened, and he said, you know, Tom, you're right."

WHAT?!?! WHO THE FUCK WOULD AGREE WITH THAT?! My god this man is a fucking idiot. I don't mind so much that one guy is a fucking worthless piece of shit beyond all reason and so entrenched in a 2000 year old fairy tale praying to Mother Goose that he should be fed to the lions, but I can't believe he is allowed to spread hate throughout the nation.

This man needs to learn that what he is doing is wrong. But since he knows how to work the free speech areas, we can't exactly silence him. So this is what I uncharacteristically suggest. If you see him, lets teach him that ignorance breeds intolerance, intolerance breeds hatred, hate begets hate, and hate begets violence. So if you see him, pick up a rock or something and throw it at his face. The more adamantly you know he's wrong, the bigger the rock should be. I gotta go now, I have some bricks to throw.

Another weekend has drawn to a close. This was a particularly fun one, and if you're lucky I might tell you why. Okay, you're lucky. Lets see, last night me and Allison spent the better part of the night together. We took it slow though, no sense in chugging beers when you've got all night to drink. *WINK* Yeah so we were drinking like champs, what can I say? After got a little toasted we made some calls and my friend Stev-o came over to do a little drinking of his own. Then my neighbor Brianne came over to party with us and Keith came home. Before you knew it we had a little party goin'. Drinkin' some beers, telling some stories. Good times had by all. Then Matt came home with one of his friends, and it was just an all around good time.

I woke up this morning feeling refreshed. Okay, there's two lies in that sentence. I didn't wake up this morning, it was more like 2:30 in the afternoon, and I was surprisingly un-refreshed. Alas, it was worth it. I showered and got ready and went to the Brazos Valley Symphony Orchestra concert. I was a little bit disappointed. I knew what to expect, so I wasn't surprised, but my god could Baroque music BE anymore repeatative. I don't think so. Me and Keith both fell asleep in alternative intervals. Now I have to write a paper about it, which I'm not too thrilled to do, but whatever, it won't be hard. I don't have anything else due tomorrow since we got assigned a 2 week lab last week in my 349 lab. So thats a nice load off for a Sunday night. So in other words, no plans for tomorrow, just business as usual.

I hope you all had a good weekend too, and good luck with everything goin on this week. Keep checkin' in to keep up with yours truely. Laaaaaaaaaaate.

Well hey there, good to see you again. Since the last post, I took a big test in my Circuit Design class. Everyone thought it was pretty hard, but I came out of there thinking that I had aced it. I realized just a little while ago that I forgot to put a resistor in series with my diodes in the clipper circuit I designed, so the whole thing would instantly burn up ... oops! Other than that I think I got everything right. So in order to celebrate, I decided to go get drunk at Northgate.

Me and AllieD went to Hole in the Wall and had a couple of pitchers. Then we went over to the Library after like 2 hours of just sippin beers and chit chatting. At the library I had a couple Cosmopolitans and she had a couple of Jack and Cokes in martini glasses ... tres chic. We ran into Travis there and shared a table with him and his friend Vicky. It was a good time. At 1:00 they stop serving alcohol which sucks, but I decided I wasn't drunk enough, so we all ended up going back to Travis's place to drink some more. He made some nauseating lemonade and vodka drink and I gladly slurped it up. Then I had another drink. And that, my friends, is where the story has to end, because I don't remember anything else. Oops! It happens though. It seems that whenever I get it in my head to get really drunk, I always succeed. Just chalk it up to the maturity that is SLOWLY slowly, growing. Until next time, folks. Take it easy. And if its easy, take it twice.

Welcome back, you wayward Sidesho-Viewers. My site has returned, less technological than its ever been. So fear not, along with my site, I too have returned from the depths of anonymity. If you can't tell, a couple things have changed around here. There's a lot I still want to do, but I told myself I was going to release V5 tonight if it killed me. It still stands to be determined if it will actually kill me, since its 3:30 in the morning and I have class tomorrow. Some things are just more important, y'know? Like all of you to me.

In case you didn't gather, or I didn't tell you repeatedly, all of the words on this site have been replaced with my handwriting. You may think it was easy, but you would be wrong. I've been spending every free moment of time for the past week scanning in words, and photoshopping them so they look good online. Hehehe, 'photoshopping.' Its such bad grammar to verbify nouns. Keith can vouch for the fact that I've been hunched over my computer for hours every day. Anyway, there's still a couple of things that I want to convert to handwriting, but they're all obscure and none of you will ever notice. So for now just enjoy what you can see.

I've dispensed with the buttons, the tabs, and the navigation bars and opted to go for an 'all on one page' design. I think it is a little easier, on me at least. I'm not so sure I love the black and white of the page, but every great artist goes through a grey period, right? Sorry to all of you who used to be on the cast page, I'm sure I'm going to have some angry friends who feel they deserve their name on the one and only site dedicated entirely to myself. We'll see about getting something like that back on here soon. I'll think somethin' up, don't you worry.

The webcam is no longer 24/7 as it stands. Without its own dedicated page, its hard to make it refresh automatically every 30 seconds. So the majority of you would just see a black square, or an empty chair while you read my blog, and I surely don't want that. The pose I've left for you is my 'Dis be da shit right heeya' pose. I think its appropriate. The pics are all grey and grainy right now, but will soon pop links to bigger full color pictures. You've all seen me anyway, so you can wait on that. I've added a link to my archives, in case you ever missed a day in the past year. Now you can go back and read the old blogs. The search function is also different. It now just searches the blogs for keywords instead of my entire site. I like it better. Plus its built into my page now.

I added contact information back in. That was the one thing missing from my American Flag design. Of course, if you ever need to get ahold of me just insert 'SideshoViD' wherever you can and it'll work. I have Yahoo Messenger now too, I guess I could add that to the list. Its SideshoViD on there, of course. I took down the Sidesho-Poll for the time being because I hate that Sparklit crap I was using to host it. I'm going to learn how to host it off my own site if its the last thing I do and then the polling will commence once more. But it could very well be the last thing I do, so we'll see.

As you can tell, I'm rather excited about my new design, and the blogging is just flowing out of my fingers now. I'm totally rejuvenated after a long rest and a new layout. So if you would be so kind, please be sure to leave me a comment or two letting me know what you think of this layout. Thank you for coming back, and I hope to see you again real soon.

Eat, sleep, build circuits, and blog. That's all I ever do. I am seriously considering unplugging after this weekend. By unplug I mean, literally unplug my computer and not be online except when its necessary for school for like an entire week. Its getting to be a problem how much I sit at this stupid computer and waste my life. Anyway, that's my random editorial.

Not much excitement. Although I do have one good story. I was getting out of my symphony class and going to eat when I ran into Todd. He insisted that I sit down on this bench and have a cigarette with him. It was right across the street from Sbisa, so I obliged. We hadn't been there 2 minutes when this total hippy on a skateboard eats pavement right in front of us. He fell forward and his flip flops fell off and stuff. It was really entertaining. So me and Todd agreed that was probably the funniest thing we'd seen all day. As if that wasn't enough, probably like 60 seconds later, I turn to see this girl completely flip upside down on her bike. This guy that was walking by and saw the whole thing caught my eye and all 3 of us lost it and just busted out laughing crazy style. He said that she'd tried to jump down the curb and turned her wheel sideways before she landed and then just flipped upside down. It was REALLY funny. So that made my fucking day. I love taking pleasure in the embarassment of other.

So back to my symphony class. We finally got our real professor back. He was off in Rio de Jenero (or however you spell that) conducting an orchestra for the first 3 weeks of class and we had this total loser teaching us. But our prof is back and he's a badass. I really like him. He has this cool hispanic-type accent, and he memorized almost everyone's name on the first day. Needless to say, that class is now enjoyable and I feel like I'm learning something. And if I'm not learning anything, then I'm enjoying being told something I already know. So now I won't be skipping that class anymore like I was for a while there. So that's good news. No worries about failing a gimme now.

Ehhh, that's really all that's goin on. You'd thing someone with a life as boring as mine wouldn't even bother having a blog, but .... you'd be wrong. If you've got a good bike accident story or something along those lines, go ahead and drop a note and let everyone else know. Talk amongst yourselves. Thanks and gig this.

The time is upon us, dear Sidesho-Viewers. In about 12 hours I will be on a plane to Las Vegas, Nevada for 3 days of glorious sinful fun. I'm starting to get really excited as I pack my bags and make last minute errands and purchases for things I might want. Hey, I know. I'll tell you what. If I win more than, say, $5,000 at the craps table (which is fairly likely) I will give anyone that leaves a comment a crisp, new $100 dollar bill. Yes my friends, the Sidesho-Bribery is back!

I will return to College Station on Tuesday. I'm going to chill and relax until Friday to go home for my brother's wedding. I would leave sooner but Allison is my date to the wedding and she only got off work for the weekend. Then (as I think I've stated several times) I will rush back to College Station to move into my new duplex. Then, of course, its time for the house-warming par-tay ... ooowwww! I'll let you all know when that's gonna be, cause I KNOW you all wanna be there. Anywho, I'm gonna go eat, take a nap (our sleep schedule's gonna be all screwy with the 6am flight and losing 2 hours) and then pack my bags and be on my way. Wish me luck...

Viva Las Vegas!

Friday night was a right proper blast. It ended up that we decided to stay home and drink some beer. We had a pretty good turnout too considering we didn't really intend on having a party. Maddou came over early on in the evening to start sipping on a few brewskis. Later on then John showed up with one of his female friends. Jennifer drove in from Houston, also with a female friend. Doug and Nicole showed their faces once more and managed to convince a couple people to play drinking games (not me though, I always heed my own advice -- never play Doug's drinking games). There was some other guy there that I think came with Doug, I'm not sure. He had really cool tattoos. I'm sure was a little too interested in them, but I was drunk and they were really intricate. To top off the guestlist, Allison made a semi-surprise visit. We had such a blast. Me and Allison haven't gotten a chance to party together in forever. I don't think we stopped laughing hysterically the entire night. Everything was funny to us. Funny because it was true -- it was funny and true.

If you can imagine, I may have had just a little too much fun on Friday night, though I don't regret it one bit. So last night I took it pretty easy. We watched a bunch of TV and that was just about it. Maddou invited me out to Northgate but I honestly don't have any money. I have like 12 dollars in the bank right now but you need at least $20 to get it out of the ATM ... cause I ain't paying the service fee on the $5 ATM they have on Northgate. Anyway, it turned out to be a right bore, but I think I needed it. Oh yeah, this is off topic, but I talked to Stuart the other night. He finally called me back. You all remember Stuart from Moore Hall, right? He lives in Nashville, Tennessee now. Talk about fucking random. Whatever floats his boat though, I'm sure its better than Fort Worth.

Alright, I think today I'm gonna go to the rec and work out since I have such a fabulouso body now. My weight hovers right around 150 still, I haven't gained a damn pound in so long. The other day I was 152 a new high, and then yesterday I was back down to 149. I don't get it. I can't gain weight for the life of me. And that creatine was giving me heart palpitations so I quit taking it. Anyway, then I'm gonna lay out. So my day is full. You all be good ... and don't forget to tip your waitress.

Moore Hall, Nati Light, put 'em together, what a hell of a night! That was pretty much the theme of my night last night. First I went to Allison's and it was her friend Scott's 21st birthday. They were going to Salty Dog and I didn't feel like going, so I called Keith to find out what he was doing. He picked me up and we went to a Moses party. Burns rode with us, and when we got there, the whole gang was there -- Slim Jim, Maddou, Schu, John, Marcellus, Kevin. Well the cops busted that up pretty soon after we got there, so Keith and I left.

Then we went over to another Moore Hall-ish party. It was over at Blinkie and Grover's pad and all the big names were there -- Cody, Jay, Horatio, Bread, Tye, Humpty. Naturally, we played the Lean-Fro song from the original parchment that we made a year ago outside of G Rollie. In short, Gilligan was resurrected for a night, and it was fun. Moore Hall Truckers, Bad Mother Fuckers ... whoop.