Festivus

Well, it didn't quite go as planned. I don't have a real pole this year. All I've got is our flagpole in the front yard, and it's really not the same. Also, Sandy wasn't home for Festivus dinner. Apparently, that's how she disappointed me this year. That, and the fact that she's a needy little brat who still owes me $13 dollars. I didn't get to do the Feats of Strength this year, but I had something equivalent in Urban Dead. So far, I haven't been killed, so Festivus isn't over yet, and probably won't be for several days if I play my cards right.

Late Post

I actually wrote this last Saturday, but didn't get around to posting it until now. I'm not sure why.

Just watched Dead and Deader on Sci-fi. I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed it. It's definitely not your typical zombie movie, and the fact that it stars the guy who hosted Ripley's Believe It or Not is a plus. Honestly, before Dead and Deader, I didn't even know he was an actor. Go figure.

I just have one burning question: how many pop culture references can you possibly fit into one movie? Seriously, next time it's on, watch it and try to keep track. I guarantee you'll lose count in the first hour if you don't have one of those little clicker things.

Seriously, she used to bullseye womp rats in her T-16 back home? It's like they're trying to set a record or something. Hell, the movie will probably be featured on Ripley's Believe It or Not.

I just accidentally electrocuted myself

I was plugging in my laptop, and apparently my finger was in contact with the metal part of the plug when it touched the outlet. I felt a shock and pulled my finger away. There isn't any kind of possibility of permanent damage after something like that, right? Probably not. I mean, I'm typing fine right now, aren't I?

A Festivus For The Rest Of Us

I hope you guys are celebrating Festivus this year. I know I will be. Know why? Because I'm really getting sick of Christmas. At least Festivus is untarnished by commercialism, decorations and bad singing. Everybody get on the bandwagon and celebrate in style Dec. 23rd.

Now, if you happen to be unfamilar with Festivus, you need to do three things. First, realize that your entire life up until this point has been a lie. Second, read the wikipedia article that I linked to above. Third, get your ass in gear and get ready to celebrate one of my favorite holidays. If you don't join in the festivites, you can expect to feel my malice when I'm airing grievances this year. Other than that, just relax and have fun. That's kind of the point of a holiday, isn't it?

C++ Rant

So, I'm finally done with finals. Overall, it didn't go as smoothly as I had hoped, but I'll have to wait and see just how bad or good things turned out. I already know I failed physics. That was mostly due to poor planning on my part. That, and the fact that the class is held at 8am, a most ungodly hour to be forced to think. At least next semester I won't have to deal with that anymore.

Now, I have a rant about my C++ teacher that I really need to get out, or else I won't be able to relax over the break. I'm kind of hoping she never hears it, though, so maybe this isn't the best place to do it, but whatever.

Hayes is evil. It's as simple as that. I used to think she was just a bad teacher, maybe getting a little senile in her old age, but that's not it. She is, in fact, a force of pure evil. I did extremely poorly in a class I'd normally love and do well in because of her. For once, I'm not screwing up because of my own mistakes. This is definitely because of her.

First, the assignments. I hate her grading system for programming assignments. Rather than simply giving a grade, she reads the code, and if it is 100% perfect in her eyes (which it never is), she gives it a check. Otherwise, she marks it NA and gives it back to you. If you turned it in early enough, you'll be able to try to turn it in again for the check. With any luck, you'll be able to decipher the incomprehensible chicken scratch that she writes all over the page, then make the changes she feels need to be made. Most of the time, these are not even serious changes. Usually, your program will work just fine, but she'll mark one part wrong because that's not the way she would have done it.

This is pure evil. I don't want to deal with that crap. I don't like doing programming assignments in the first place, so when I finish one, I just want to give it to her and block out my memory of having ever done it. If there is one small thing wrong with it, then it should just be a 90% or so instead of 100%. Grading is supposed to have a range of possible grades, so you can get partial credit for doing a pretty good job. However, for reasons I'll never understand, she feels that, in the case of programming assignments, there are no grades. There is only "Okay, good work," or "No. Do it over, or it's a zero." That's fucked up. If I do an assignment and it's 90% right, I just want to be given a 90. I don't want to have to go back and do the fucking assignment over again just because there's one little thing wrong with it. Believe it or not, I have better shit to do than write the same assignment over and over again. Beside that, I don't have the time to do it over. If I turn an assignment in on the day of it's final deadline, and it comes back NA, then that's it. Game over. I can't do it over anymore because the deadline is passed. The assignment is marked as a failure, regardless of the fact that there's only one or two lines of code that need to be changed. Is the level of malice I feel toward her sinking in yet? Well, hang on, because we're just getting started.

Next, she gives us a quiz at the beginning of every class. These quizzes are never easy, and it's damn near impossible to do well on them. Aside from the fact that they're written in her own language that few people beside her can understand, there's always just one or two questions on them, so if you get just one wrong, you fail the quiz. This was often the case for me, since I really don't know the material as well as I should. That again is not my fault, though. I explain why in this next part:

Third, she is just not good at teaching. Everything I learned in that class this year had to be learned by reading handouts, because I could not get anything out of her lectures. The woman cannot lecture. When she lectures, she always does the same stupid crap. Rather than talk equally about all the important points in a lesson, she finds one point she really wants to hammer home, then says that same point over and over and over again for the next half-hour to an hour, slightly rewording each sentence in a feeble attempt to trick you into thinking that she's saying anything new or relevant. As if that wasn't bad enough, she then illustrates her point by coming up with some bizarre analogy. She cannot do analogies. The point of an analogy is to make something easier to understand by relating it to something familiar. Her analogies are completely unfamiliar and make no sense at all to anyone but her. If anything, they cause you to have a worse understanding of the topic at hand. Examples? Can anyone tell me how the phrase "plain vanilla" relates in any way to the string class? Can anyone tell me how cin or the istream are in any way similar to "a slob that goes to McDonalds"? Somehow, in her mind, these are natural and universally understood concepts. Am I missing something here? Is it me? It's her, right?

I can't prove it, but I don't think she's trying to teach me. She's trying to destroy my psyche. I think she really must have an evil force inside her, because I am physically unable to listen to her. Whenever I try, my brain just shuts down and I black out, sometimes for minutes at a time. I swear to god, it's like every time she speaks, she's broadcasting evil psychic waves of negative energy that drain the intellect right out of me. I actually become stupider by trying to listen to her. How is that possible, unless she is, in fact, a brain-draining alien from another galaxy?

The fact that she doesn't even realize or care something's wrong drives me nuts. Hayes, think about it. If more than half the class consistently fails your daily quizzes from hell, which they do, don't you think that's an indication that the class really isn't getting the material? Shouldn't that tip you off that something is amiss? If you have to put a 20 point curve on the unit test to ensure that the entire class doesn't fail, which you did, doesn't it ever occur to you that this could be your fault? Do us all a favor and retire, before you ruin any more students. I'm out.

Saving the Internet

I've never really been that politically active, but I do try to keep up with current events and issues. One issue that is important to me is this issue of preserving Net Neutrality. I imagine it should matter to you, too, since you're using the Internet right now. Of course, I still haven't done much about it. The most I've done so far is sign up for a Save the Internet mailing list.

The most recent thing they sent me is about this potential merger between Bell South and AT&T. That's a god damn big merger. The guys at freepress.net seem to believe that a merger of this scale could be dangerous, and I agree with them. You can read the full story at the link above. After doing so, I'd suggest you do as I did and send a message to your congressperson about this. They'll even let you send a prewritten message if you're lazy like me.

http://action.freepress.net/campaign/stop_att_merger

Note to self:

My watch is broken. If I find myself in a dark room, I must remember not to activate the backlight on the watch. If I do, it will release an unholy shrieking noise and reset itself, which is a major pain because it is rather difficult to set the time. Especially now that one of the buttons isn't working half of the time.

On a related note, if anyone's looking to get me a Christmas present, a new watch wouldn't be a bad idea.

Facebook Group: Let Eddie Guerrero Die

I made this group after watching Survivor Series this year. Overall, I was pretty disappointed with the whole thing. However, the low-light of the night had to be the United States Championship match: Chris Benoit vs. Chavo Guerrero, with his "business manager" Vicki Guerrero in his corner. The storyline leading up to this match is possibly the most putrid, stinking pile of feces that the WWE writing staff has ever produced. Furthermore, it is an insult to Eddie Guerrero's memory.

For those who weren't there for it, I'll give you a brief history lesson. A little over a year ago, Eddie Guerrero passed away suddenly at the age of 38. Everyone was hurt by the loss, and the WWE had a week-long tribute, interrupting their normal broadcasts to pay their respects. On top of that, at Wrestlemania, he was inducted into the Hall of Fame. Now, I'm fine with all that. He was a great guy who deserves to be remembered. However, it should have stopped at Wrestlmania.

In the months leading up to his induction, not a single WWE show aired without someone mentioning the name Eddie Guerrero. Whether it was the commentators, the crowd or the wrestlers, he was always being brought up. I thought this would fade over time as we were entering 2006, but it only got worse. Rey Mysterio, a good friend of Eddie, entered the Royal Rumble saying that he was dedicating his match to his late friend. Now, at the time, I had no problem with that. Hell, I was even rooting for him when he won the Rumble. (Well, really, I was rooting for Randy Orton, but Rey was a close second in my mind) However, in winning the Rumble, he got the chance to try for the World Heavyweight Championship at Wrestlmania. Orton almost got left out of the match entirely until a little plot twist resulted in the match being a triple threat match. In other words, Rey, Orton, and the champion at the time Kurt Angle would all be facing each other for the title. Honestly, I thought there was no chance of Rey winning. But, I guess I forgot how much people love a good underdog story. After Rey also dedicated his Wrestlmania match to Eddie, it was basically guaranteed to be a victory for him. And so it was. Rey Mysterio officially became the World Heavyweight Champion. An ironic title for him to hold, considering he weighs about 170 pounds.

I was rather irritated by then. For months after that, Rey defended his championship and won. That in itself wasn't so bad. What was bad was that he always did so getting chants of "Eddie" from the crowd. They weren't cheering for Rey, they were cheering for Eddie. Am I the only one who realized that Eddie was not in the match? What's more, Rey only encouraged them by finishing his matches with Eddie's old signature move, the Frog Splash, and pointing to the heavens.

When it gets to the point that you find yourself rooting for a washed-up John "Bradshaw" Layfield over Rey Mysterio, you know something's wrong. Well, that's the point it got to. I was just dying for someone to take that title from Rey so the Eddie nonsense would stop. It didn't matter, though. Even after the title changed hands, the nonsense continued. Rey Mysterio soon began a rivalry with Chavo Guerrero, Eddie's nephew. Honestly, I don't know what the feud was about, because by that time I had pretty much stopped watching Smackdown altogether.

At some point in the mess, Eddie's wife Vicki Guerrero became involved. She actually joined Chavo as his "business manager", taking on a heel character persona. Now, I ask you, how desperate did she have to be for money that she would agree to such a retarded idea?

The madness didn't stop, even after Rey Mysterio was injured and couldn't continue. As soon as he was injured, another close friend of Eddie, Chris Benoit, stepped in to take his place, and the bitter conflict picked up right where it left off. This led to the Survivor Series match, in which Benoit would defend his US championship.

During Survivor Series, before the match started, they played a brief video package, as they often do, detailing the events that led up to this heated rivalry. I watched that video package from start to finish, then watched the whole match, in which Chavo was constantly shouting something like "You're not a Guerrero!", Vicki was yelling similar things from outside the ring, and Benoit was doing his best to win while the crowd broke into another "Eddie" chant. By the end, my mind had pretty much shut down. I was completely flabbergasted. The only coherent though I could process was, "This is so fucking stupid."

So, that's why I made the group. I want the madness to end, and making a Facebook group seemed like the best way to get the word out to people. If enough people join, I'm hoping we can send a letter to WWE's writing staff telling them that a huge volume of their fans are pissed off and want them to stop. If that doesn't happen, well, at least we can start a discussion to complain about how stupid the writing staff are.

Suitemate Blues - Rosenblum, Read This:

I don't interact with my suite-mates much, so we usually don't have any real serious problems. However, the community bathroom has apparently become a hot-spot for activities which are apparently designed for the express purpose of pissing me off. Today, a number of them have come together to put me in one really bad mood.

First, a little setup. There's a towel rack on the wall in our bathroom that is broken. It holds towels just fine, but it's not properly secured to the wall. It falls apart if you pull out on it from the wall. It can handle the downward weight of a towel, but if you the pull the towel off the rack in a clumsy manner, the towel rack falls apart and clatters to the floor. Now, I will admit I was guilty of causing it to do this once. Once. That's it. I put it back together and never did it again. Now, someone else is breaking the thing on a regular basis. I know this, because they never have the courtesy to put the thing back together. They just leave the pieces on the floor for me to find next time I enter the bathroom. I've had to fix the thing at least a dozen times over the course of the semester. Now, I realize I'm better at putting shit together than some people, but the way I see it, if you break it, you should fix it, not leave it there for me. Not knowing how to put it back together is no excuse. I'm not asking you to reassemble a fucking computer hard drive. It's two fucking pieces. It's not that complicated.

Another point that has become more prevalent lately is the toilet paper. Our toilet paper supply is not running out, but that's no excuse to squander it. I've had to change the toilet paper roll 3 times in the past two days because some jackass keeps using up the entire fucking roll, then leaving the empty cardboard thing there for me to take care of. Now, I can almost understand having some reservations about the grandiose task of reassembling a broken towel rack, but come on. This is changing the toilet paper roll. No one is so fucking stupid that they can't figure out how to do it. When you finish off an entire roll of paper by yourself, which is in itself a crime against God in my opinion, you should at least have the courtesy to replace the cardboard holder with a fresh roll from the bag sitting under the sink. For that matter, you really shouldn't be using up an entire fucking roll of toilet paper in a single day. That is beyond sick.

So, I'm pretty certain these acts are being committed by the same person. Why? Because just now I went to the bathroom, and I found a dismantled towel rack sitting on the floor, an empty cardboard roll that I had just replaced last night, and the icing on the cake, a huge floater in the toilet that was apparently too difficult for this person to both shit and flush. Well, that tore it. I'm finding out who this guy is, and I won't have any mercy. I already have a guess, too. Rosey, if it's you, you'd better either come over here and apologize to me in person, or pray to God I never find conclusive proof that it's you. If I do find conclusive proof, I will not hesitate to rip the towel rack off the wall and beat your fat ass to death with it.

Eatin' Good

So, Saturday was kind of screwed up. I stayed up late again the night before because I'm a dumbass. I ended up sleeping in until about 6:00pm. That obviously fucked up my sleep schedule for today as well, and most likely will carry over into tomorrow. It'll be a damn miracle if I can wake up for class on Monday. But, I digress...

Saturday night, Schunk calls me and says he and Big Guy are going to Applebee's again. My options at that point were to go along with them or watch that The Amazing Jonathan special on Comedy Central. Now, I love the stand-up comedy and magical stylings of The Amazing Jonathan as much as the next guy, but I figured I needed to get out more, so I went.

So, we ate at Applebee's. After the appetizer platter and buffalo wings, Big Guy and Schunk had burgers. I had three-cheese chicken penne. Schunk commented that I am a fag. I suggested that he shut the fuck up. At one point during the meal, he said something pretty funny and told me I should write about it here. It's a crying shame I can't remember what it was.

Okay, before continuing, I have a brief flashback. Remember those friends of Big Guy's that gave us a ride to the party a couple posts back? I didn't point it out at the time, but they happen to be of the female persuasion. It wasn't especially relevant at the time, but is somewhat relevant now.

So, back to the present. Big Guy said at one point that the aforementioned friends might be joining us, but it never materialized. Apparently, there was some disagreement. He told them on his cell phone we were at Applebee's, but apparently they weren't coming.

Or so we thought...





(this space has been inserted to build dramatic tension)





I should point out that we were sitting at a window seat. While we were eating, we looked out the window and saw one of Big Guy's friends and her roommate outside. They were strangely excited for some reason. Also, they were wearing pajamas. They came over to the window and started waving, dancing and cavorting about. In pajamas. Not amused by the display before him, Schunk casually reached over and closed the blinds. Outside, they were still trying to get our attention, but they eventually left. In their pajamas.

A woman at another table asked Big Guy, "Are they crazy or what?" I said I don't know those people. Big Guy turned to her and said something like "Yeah, they're pretty fucked up. They're stalking us." I think the woman was satisfied. At a glance, those two certainly looked like crazy stalkers. Did I mention they were wearing pajamas? Okay, good. Just making sure.

(Okay, I'm sort of introducing someone else we know in this next part. I don't know if he has a running nickname, but I don't want to use his actual name without permission, so I'm going to use a wildly inappropriate moniker until I can come up with something better)

On the way back to campus, Big Guy talked to them on the phone again. He mentioned the woman who now thinks they're insane stalkers. His friend on the phone talked about coming by Benoit to see us. Big Guy said that if they come over wearing those pajamas, and the dirty mexican shows up, there will most likely be, and I quote, "a fucking rape party." We actually ran into the dirty mexican on the way back. He seemed to agree with Big Guy.

So, we got back to Benoit and watched a couple episodes of Stella. Schunk has a thing for Micheal Ian Black, but not in a gay way. Not to my knowledge, anyway. Big Guy's friends never showed up, so the "fucking rape party" never took place. I think the dirty mexican was disappointed. Frankly, so was I.

So, that was about it. I guess I'll be signing off now. My next post will probably be from the hospital after I get cut by the dirty mexican, who is probably pissed off at me. Honestly, it was all in good fun, I meant no offense. Please don't cut me, esse.

To everyone who has ever considered imitating Borat:

Shut the fuck up. You are not Borat. You are not funny. Stop filling me with mind-numbing rage with your retarded fake accent. You are trying and failing to look cool by imitating the character that you adore so much, and it drives me insane. I don't care if that movie becomes the highest grossing movie in the history of mankind. That would only mean that the actor who plays Borat is funny. You, however, are still a sad little man who needs to accept the fact that he's not funny. Accept your unfunny place in the world, and shut the fuck up. Thank you for your attention.

I want to play a game.

Well, it took me long enough, but I finally decided to write about that Halloween party I went to. I've been busy, so I didn't really get a chance until now. Before I get started, I just want to clarify for everyone that absolutely everything you're about to read is 100% true. Except for the parts I made up.

So, where do I start? Well, I guess it started at Benoit before everyone went out. There were a lot of good costumes there that night. I put some photos up on Facebook. Click the link in the title to view the album. (You have to be logged in to see it) Now, as it turns out, there was more than one party going on that night. No one could really agree on one to go to, so the group ended up parting ways for the night. I ended up going with Schunk to a party his friend was throwing. For some reason, no one else wanted to go. I think it had something to do with a lack of Jungle Juice. Anyway, some friends of Big Guy gave us a ride to the house.

As it turned out, Schunk was the only guy at the party that I knew. So, small-talk was pretty much out of the question, but that was fine. I was dressed as Jigsaw. My job was to stand there and look creepy. I have to say, I did it very well. The party was still pretty sweet, though. As the night rolled on, more and more people showed up, and it became difficult to move. Supposedly, that's a sign of a successful party. I really wouldn't know.

At one point, a game of Beer Pong was played. I didn't take part, but Schunk did, and I was on his side of the table. This was partly for good luck and moral support, partly to creep out the other team, and partly because I had nothing better to do. Whatever I was there for, it worked. Schunk got four successful throws in a row. He then went on some kind of rant about the Four Horseman. He was dressed as Ric Flair, so I guess it was to be expected.

After that, there was a lot of loud music being played. Normally, I detest loud music, but at least it was good loud music. Also, it gave a couple girls at the party an excuse to dance on top of a table.

(Which reminds me, before I go any further, there's something I need to say here. Whoever originally came up with the concept of having girls use Halloween as an excuse to dress up in the skimpiest outfits possible, I'd appreciate it if you would come visit me at Marist. I would like the opportunity to meet you in person, shake your hand and say "You've done the world a great service. Thank you.")

So, back to the story: Two hot girls are dancing on a table. I'm sitting on the couch about 2 feet away from the table. That alone was reason to be glad I went out that night. I know that sounds perverted, but I'm a stressed-out nerd with no girlfriend. This is all I have. At one point, I considered getting out my camera so I could take a video clip of the two of them, but I decided against it, thinking it would be rude. To this day, I deeply regret that decision. I often wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat screaming "Why am I such a fucking idiot?!"

Well, aside from that, I also was happy to learn that I was not the most perverted freak at the party that night. There was a certain guy in a cheap pumpkin costume there who took it upon himself to join in the dancing. And by dancing, of course, I meant he was trying to dry hump the girls dancing on the table. I'm not sure what was weirder; the fact that he was doing it, or the fact that they weren't trying harder to brush him off. Ah, power of liquor. At one point, someone yelled to him, "Make a grab!", or something along those lines. I think he considered it, but didn't go through with it. Understandable, I guess. Had I been in the same position, I don't think I would have done it either. Of course, that's mostly because I took forever trying to put on my makeup that night, and really didn't want it getting screwed up by a slap in the face, which I was fairly sure I would have invited. The girls were drunk, but not that drunk.

Later on that night, Schunk ended up behind the bar selling shots. The main item for sale was a shot called "Vampire Juice." Absolutely everyone who went to the bar asked what was in it, but no one got a straight answer. I don't think too many people actually knew. I'm not sure myself, but from what I can gather, it is essentially a mixture of Rufies and Hawaiian Punch. The shots were going for $1 each, but apparently not everyone had brought enough money with them. A few guys, clearly inebriated and low on cash, had offered to give Schunk a blow job in exchange for a shot, but he declined. At first...

The night rolled on, and Schunk eventually decided, after being stuck behind the bar for almost an hour, that he was ready to leave. Unfortunately, we didn't have a ride back to campus. Big Guy's friends never came back, and he and the others never came to the party as they said they were going to. Schunk tried calling them, but no one was answering their cell phone. So, we ended up walking back to campus. If you ask Schunk about it, he probably has a 10-minute speech prepared about how it was "bullshit." Personally, I think I blame the Jungle Juice.

So, aside from how it ended, it was a pretty cool night. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to kill anyone, though. Oh, well, maybe next year.

Oh, yes. There will be blood.

Stuff

I was planning on writing some stuff about Halloween, but haven't thought up anything really good yet. I'm sure I'll get around to it at some point.

Which reminds me: I might be dying. It could just be a false alarm, but I might have meningitis, so it's possible I'm going to die. I'm going to see about going to the health services offices in the morning, but I don't know how fast this stuff goes. I could be dead by then. Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to anyone who found my meager existence to be in any way worthwhile. I don't want to get all mushy on you, but I'll miss you guys. I just figure I should say my goodbyes in case I'm dead soon.

I think we've all arrived at a very special place. Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically. I want you to know that I was rooting for you. Know that. Elizabeth... it would never have worked between us darling. I'm sorry... Will... nice hat. Friends... This is the day that you will ALWAYS remember as the day that you...

*backs up and trips over ledge*

The Source of the Problem - Stress-aholic

I've given it some thought, and I have come to realize I tend to play a lot of games that involve killing things. Two of my all-time favorite games are Mercenaries and God of War. Also, there's my whole fascination with the blood and gore that has become so readily available in movies these days. When it comes right down to it, I think it's about stress release. I'm a busy guy, and for some reason I always seem to feel like I have the weight of the world pressing down on me, whether what I do is in any way important or not. I'm a stress-aholic.

I get very little sleep, and work hard in classes I have very little interest in. It's more than that, though. Even in the summer when there was no class, I always had something to stress out about. Getting a job, driving my little sister to her riding lessons, getting out of bed. It all just weighed on my mind. I actually disappeared from UD and the Internet in general for weeks at a time in search of relief, but never found it. At the rate I'm going, it seems like I'm always going to be stressed out. It bothers me, since stressing out just wastes time and causes more stress. I've been trying to write a book lately, but have scarcely found the time to work on it between classes, UD, homework, and trying to get some sleep.

I have had a good amount of time lying in bed awake at night to think about it. Ultimately, stress is not caused by actual events in my life. As was stated earlier, even in relatively relaxing environments, I tend to stress out over little things. When it comes right down to it, I'm just making myself miserable with a negative, stressed-out state of mind. The only real solution is to find a way to relieve all that tension that just keeps building up, because videogames and bad sci-fi movies don't cut it.

Bottom line: I desperately need to get laid.

I'll admit, that's probably news to no one, but that doesn't make it any less true.

{Special Note: I did not make and do not own rights to that image at the top of the post. I also don't know who made it, but whoever you are, you are awesome. Please don't sue.}

Things 4: Things in Spandex

I've been busy as hell with schoolwork lately, so I haven't been able to update this thing much. Really, I haven't got that much to talk about right now, but there's a few things. Oddly enough, all wrestling related.

Thing 12:

Tommy Dreamer beat the crap out of Test with a prosthetic leg

I've got to go to one of these live events sometime, because they sound fun as hell. During the match, some guy in the audience pulled off his prosthetic leg and tossed it to Dreamer in the ring, who then used it as a weapon. The full story can be read here.

And in other wrestling news:

Thing 13:

Yo, yo, yo, yo. Pop a 40 and check your rollies. It's Cryme Tyme!

Seriously, whether you enjoy wrestling or not, you need to watch those videos. They're comedy gold.

Thing 14:

Thanks are owed to my arch-nemesis for bringing this to my attention. I complained earlier about The Boogeyman being fired from WWE. Well, it seems he may be coming back after all. The source this came from is in no way reliable, but they're not always wrong either. The original article can be read here. Warning: That site is loaded with popups.

In case you don't feel like being bombarded by popups, here's the relevant text from the article:

Marty Wright (The Boogeyman) is being brought back to the WWE after being fired on Wednesday, September 20. The announcement should be made in the next week by WWE. We'll have more details on this as the story develops.

Regarding Wright's release, he was shocked and dismayed that WWE decided to let him go. He didn't understand as to what he did wrong to cause him to be fired. Unfortunately, Wright had earned a reputation as being unreliable, not dedicated to getting better, making excuses for missing rehab assignments, and generally being oblivious to how unprofessional he came across. There was ongoing concern that he wasn't advancing as a talent behind the catch phrase and ring entrance, both of which he had obviously mastered.

Alright, that's all the things for now. Peace out.

Juggernaut, Bitch!: Judgement Day

They made a sequel to Juggernaut, Bitch! Having learned this, why are you still reading this? Click the damn links already.

Part 1

Part 2

If you missed the original Juggernaut, Bitch!, you suck at life. Go watch it and try to improve the quality of your life: Click Here

Things 3: Revenge of the Things

Thing 8:

http://www.grasshopper.com/mind-games/brain-yoga/

Entrainment. Is it for real? I really have no clue. I downloaded the Digital Expresso track from grasshopper a while ago. The first time I tried it, I saw a significant difference, but I think I built up a tolerance to it. I haven't tried the newest one yet, which is called Brain Yoga. It's 30 minutes, so I suppose it must be pretty intense. I listened to a brief clip, and it sounded kind of cool, though I don't know if I'd be able to sit through it for 30 minutes in total silence.

Thing 9:

Spongebob Squarepants is messed up. It's supposed to be a kids' show, but a lot of those jokes would go over little kids' heads. Plus, there was that one episode where Spongebob and Patrick went on a panty raid with Mr. Krabs. Not exactly G-rated material in my opinion. Especially considering they went to Mr. Krabs' mother's house without telling him, which just screams creepy old lady fetish. Which brings me to my next point:

Thing 10:

Spongebob and Patrick are not gay. They're just really close friends. Same goes for Sam and Frodo from Lord of the Rings. It's sad that our society has degenerated to the point that 2 guys can't be that close without being assumed to be gay. I for one am secure in my sexuality.

Brief tangent story: At the end of last semester, my arch-nemesis and I knew we wouldn't see each other for months, so before parting ways, we shared a purely heterosexual hug. I'm sure it looked gay as hell, especially considering that it lasted like 30 seconds, but I don't care. I'm straight, he's straight. Anyone who says otherwise is either just really ignorant or a homophobe.

Thing 11:

Schunk, if you're reading this, I just want to make sure. You are straight, right?

Things 2: Son of Things

Thing 6:


My fan irritates me. It does its job of cooling the room well enough, but I can't use it at night because it's too loud and I can't sleep. See, most fans would have at around 3 settings: off, low, and high. Supposedly, my fan is intended to have those as well, but it does not. It has 3 different settings instead which are mislabelled. The settings read Off, Low, and High, but in reality the settings are (in the same order) Off, High, Category 4. Category 4 is capable of blowing thing off the desks of my roommates. Quite impressive considering there's a solid wall between us. Still, not very useful at night when I want to cool the room off and go to bed around the same time.

Thing 7:

Boogeyman Released. That's right. The only guy left on Smackdown that I like (who really wasn't even on Smackdown since he's been injured for months) has been released. What the hell is WWE doing? It was bad enough when they released Kurt Angle a couple weeks ago, and just this past week Trish Stratus retired. Now the Boogeyman is gone. At this point, all my favorite wrestlers are either on RAW or ECW. Unless Bobby Lashley pulls a title victory out of his ass soon, Smackdown is not worth watching anymore.

More things later possibly. I need sleep now.

Things

I've been busy with homework stuff, so now I'm all backed up with stuff from the past couple days. So, let's go through this one at a time, and hopefully not dwell on any one thing for too long.

Thing 1:

Yesterday, for reasons unknown, the normal butter packets were replaced with little butter flowers. Little chunks of butter carved to shape like flowers. What the flying fuck was the thought process behind that decision? "Hey, here's an idea: Let's take the normal butter that we have now and replace it with little sticky chunks of butter that are simultaneously too soft to pick up with your hand and too hard to effectively spread on bread. Why would we do that? Why, because I like flowers, of course." You know, it's bad enough they put all the butter in the bagel area so I have to go back there whenever I eat anything that needs butter. Now they did this? Who cares what the butter looks like, anyway? It's butter. It's essentially solid processed milkfat and cholesterol. If you can get past the idea that eating it can cause bad things to happen to your heart, then you shouldn't care much about what it looks like.

Thankfully, it seems the dining hall folks saw the error of their ways, as today the regular butter packets have returned. Good call there. I've always thought individual servings of butter should be individually wrapped as well, and now all is right with the world.

Thing 2:

I learned a new term from an online acquaintance: sabre rattling. Apparently, it's like trash talk before a sporting event. I feel smarter for that now. Rakk, if you're reading this, thanks again.

Thing 3:

I just got Guitar Hero. Yeah, I know, I'm like a year late, and I still payed full price. I'm now flat broke and owe my roomate $25ish. Go ahead, laugh at my stupidity.

Thing 4:

I promised I'd talk about this, so he we go. This past Saturday, my arch nemesis and his accomplice had concocted a diabolical plan. Something they called "Eating Good and Catching Z's." However, it seemed there was a flaw in their plan. It occurred to them too late that going out to Applebees by themselves would look gay. So, they asked me if I wanted to join them. Now, I really wasn't fond of the idea. Aside from the fact that I abhor normal healthy human interaction, I had already eaten earlier that evening. However, I figured it would be a good opportunity to keep a closer eye on the dastardly duo, so I agreed to go along.

Overall, the night was okay. Big Guy had some wings and steak, and I just had some stuff off the sampler platter. I don't remember what Schunk had and don't really care. He made a point of mocking my affinity for banana mango smoothies. I purposely refused to finish my quesadilla just to spite him. Well, really, it was half to spite him, and half because it was a lousy quesadilla. At the end of the meal, Schunk agreed to pay and have Big Guy pay him back if I would get the tip. It came out to be $7, but I only had 4 ones, so I had to pay the remaining $3 in change. I'm just giving Schunk ammunition now, aren't I?

Oh, and there's one last thing that is really just part of the dinner story, but it's special enough to have it's own thing:

Thing 5:

On the way home, the conversation somehow turned to school and majors. At that time, Schunk delivered a question that was so far off the beaten path that I was rendered speechless. It's in my AIM Buddy Info now, and will probably be there for quite some time. If you haven't read it yet, the question was as follows:

"What are you majoring in Dannyboy? Terrorism?"

Now, for those of you living outside the loop, the running gag behind this is that Schunk has accused me on several occasions of being a terrorist. However, he hasn't brought it up in quite a while, which threw me. Now, of course his accusations are totally baseless, as always.

Well, I'd like to comment further, but I have to go blow up a mosque now, so I guess I'm signing off for now. Thanks for reading, and Death to America.

Pointless Update

Here's a conversation between me and Schunk again. Nothing has been changed. I'm busy trying to finish Tales of Legendia, so I'm not even going to comment on this. Just draw your own conclusions.


sexecutioner044 (7:30:14 PM): so danny boy im brash am i?
danmayerisgod (7:30:30 PM): ?

---

Auto Response from sexecutioner044 (7:30:30 PM): This is a story about a boy named Schunky. Early morning, he wakes up, knock, knock, knock, on the door. Its time for makeup, perfect smile, its Schunk they're all waiting for, they go... Isn't he lovely this hollywood boy, and they say, he's so Schunky, hes a star, but he cry, cry, cries in his lonely heart, thinking, if theres nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?

---

sexecutioner044 (7:30:37 PM): ur blog
sexecutioner044 (7:30:41 PM): i read it
danmayerisgod (7:30:48 PM): I don't remember saying that
danmayerisgod (7:30:57 PM): you kind of are sometimes, though
sexecutioner044 (7:30:59 PM): in the preface of the story
sexecutioner044 (7:31:09 PM): u son of a bitch
sexecutioner044 (7:31:17 PM): are u gonna put this in there too
danmayerisgod (7:31:20 PM): what?
danmayerisgod (7:31:21 PM): no
danmayerisgod (7:31:31 PM): What's wrong with telling the truth?
sexecutioner044 (7:31:34 PM): write more stuff about me
danmayerisgod (7:31:40 PM): Why would I do that?
danmayerisgod (7:31:46 PM): You're not that interesting.
sexecutioner044 (7:31:46 PM): cause its funny
sexecutioner044 (7:31:50 PM): yea right
sexecutioner044 (7:32:00 PM): i read ur other boring trash
danmayerisgod (7:32:12 PM): How boring can it be?
danmayerisgod (7:32:15 PM): You read it.
danmayerisgod (7:32:23 PM): Since when do you read, anyway?
sexecutioner044 (7:32:26 PM): ha
sexecutioner044 (7:32:30 PM): u piece of shut
sexecutioner044 (7:32:32 PM): shit
sexecutioner044 (7:32:41 PM): give the people what they want
sexecutioner044 (7:32:44 PM): more schunk
danmayerisgod (7:32:58 PM): I guess it couldn't hurt.
sexecutioner044 (7:33:08 PM): but dont lie about me
sexecutioner044 (7:33:13 PM): or ill fuck u uo
sexecutioner044 (7:33:15 PM): up
danmayerisgod (7:33:24 PM): why would I lie?
sexecutioner044 (7:33:31 PM): cause ur gay
danmayerisgod (7:33:48 PM): Wow, what a creative comeback. I'm speechless.
danmayerisgod (7:33:53 PM): Oh, wait. No I'm not
sexecutioner044 (7:33:56 PM): blow me
danmayerisgod (7:34:00 PM): Up yours
sexecutioner044 (7:34:07 PM): wash ur hair
sexecutioner044 (7:34:21 PM): u greasy rat
danmayerisgod (7:34:26 PM): I already did
sexecutioner044 (7:34:35 PM): im out of here
sexecutioner044 (7:34:44 PM): peace bitch
danmayerisgod (7:34:47 PM): Gonna hold someone's console hostage?
sexecutioner044 (7:34:57 PM): im gonna take urs
danmayerisgod (7:35:08 PM): Like hell you are.
sexecutioner044 (7:35:13 PM): just wait
sexecutioner044 (7:35:23 PM): i have an inside man working on the job
sexecutioner044 (7:35:35 PM): i short fat slow witted jewish man
danmayerisgod (7:35:49 PM): Why do you think he has access to my room?
sexecutioner044 (7:36:01 PM): he lives in close proximity
sexecutioner044 (7:36:09 PM): hell take care of business
danmayerisgod (7:36:12 PM): Please.
danmayerisgod (7:36:21 PM): I can take rosey any day of the week
sexecutioner044 (7:36:26 PM): well see
sexecutioner044 (7:36:33 PM): im out bitch
danmayerisgod (7:36:35 PM): later

Megapost: The Ultimate Stupidity of Man

This is bound to offend someone, so if I offend you here today, I’d just like to go on record as saying the following:

“I don’t care. If you’re too sensitive to handle the opinions of another human being, you shouldn’t be on the internet in the first place.”

Before I get into the heart of the matter at hand, I have something important to get off my chest. This is an important message to the makers of Visual C++: You are retarded. You throw in all kinds of buttons that anyone with any programming experience at all will never use. You give me multiple options for just how I want to compile or debug my program, when I really only need two: compile and debug. Hell, you even set up this thing at the bottom that automatically shows where in the code you can find reference to whatever object I have highlighted. I have no use for such a thing, though I can see how you’d think someone would. Yet somehow, amongst all these fabulously overabundant buttons and menus, the rather rudimentary idea of including a “run” button to test the output of the program never occurred to you. What the fuck do you think I’ve been writing the program for? I want to run the damn thing, you fucking idiots. And no, I don’t count a “start without debug” option hidden halfway down the debug menu to be a button. I didn’t even know that option was there, let alone what the hell it did, until I went on the help site and someone was nice enough to point it out. How stupid does someone have to be to put in so many superfluous build and debug options that no one will use half of them, yet the concept of simply running the program you just wrote doesn’t cross your mind? I beg of you, please either kill yourselves or get circumcised. We can’t have pond scum like you mucking up the gene pool.

While I’m sure that seemed completely random, it actually ties in with the main topic of today’s super-sized post. In case everyone you have every known in your entire life didn’t already tell you, today is the anniversary of September 11^th, 2001, the day that two Boeing aircraft crashed into the World Trade Center, another into the Pentagon, and one more crashed out in a field in Pennsylvania or something, but no one talks about that one much. It was a sad day, indeed. Many people lost their lives, and today we take time out of our day to remember them.

However, that is not the reason I am talking about this. You see, September the 11^th has a special significance for me. For a long time, it meant the same to me as it must to everyone else: a terrible tragedy which we should never forget. However, about a year ago this day took on a whole new meaning for me. I was browsing about on the internets, as I often do, and I stumbled upon something called “The 9/11 Conspiracy Theory”. Now, at first I thought, “Wha? Someone doesn’t think it was a terrible tragedy?” However, the real matter here was far more sinister than something like not caring about loss of human life. I’m used to the idea of some people simply not caring about others, but this thing was rather new to me. There was apparently this theory going around that perhaps the 9/11 hijackings weren’t what we all thought they were. Though there have been different versions of this, I think the prevailing one is that the hijackings were orchestrated by the United States government, or agents thereof. Now, I will not take a position on this either way. I am going to reserve my judgment and remain neutral, because I’m afraid doing otherwise will cause my mind to collapse and reduce me to a drooling mental defective who has to be fed baby food and changed regularly due to tragic loss of bowel control. Confused? Don’t worry, it makes more sense in a second.

Obviously, for every argument, there’s a counter-argument saying that the first argument is wrong. Typically, both sides present evidence to support their own claims, or debunk the claims of the opposing side. While arguments such as these don’t usually have a “winner,” as the losing side usually refuses to give up their view despite being obviously wrong, the evidence presented tends to point toward one party being right and one being wrong, or perhaps in some instances to both being wrong.

Unfortunately, this is not how the debate over this issue went down. No, the debate actually went down in such a way that it actually warped my entire paradigm of thought to the point that I couldn’t look a fellow human being the face for days.

First off, if you’d like to see the arguments yourself, they are available on the internet in a variety of places, but wikipedia seems to have the most complete compilation. Plus, they have links to other sources at the bottom of the page.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/9/11_conspiracy_theories

Now, let’s examine a couple of pieces of evidence that come up a lot.

1)

The video evidence showing an object hitting the pentagon at high speed. Both sides attempted to use this as a way to support their side. The anti-conspiracy guys claimed that this was evidence that there was no conspiracy, which is total bullshit. It has been claimed that the government seized all video evidence to cover up their diabolical scheme, so why would they release this video to the public, the anti-conspirators ask? Well, I have a fairly simple answer to that: because you can’t tell shit from that video. All you get is one frame where to can almost see the tip of the object. That’s also used by the pro-conspirators. They claim they can tell by looking at that tip of the object that it is a missile, or at least can conclusively prove that it wasn’t a passenger jet. That is also bullshit. Like I said, you can’t tell anything from the video. So, you can see why I have a hard time taking sides on the matter. Supporters of both sides are talking out of their asses. They claim to have the answers, but they’re really just full of it, and I have no way of knowing which of them, if either, is right.

2)

Wow, that's a big image. Anyone on dialup should be sure to open that in a different window.

The aftermath of the explosion, depicted in photos of the crash site. First off, they have the gaping hole in the wall of the pentagon. First strike goes to pro-conspirators: they say it was a missile because you can clearly see that the windows surrounding the hole aren’t broken. Really, in that photo above, they sure as hell look broken to me, but that's really not the most reliable evidence. As far as I can tell, the photo was taken with a telephoto lens from somewhere in New Jersey. The photo above is the only one I found taken at a high enough resolution to see the windows at all. Then there’s the hole itself: the pro-conspirators say it had to be made by a small missile, because it was far too small to be made by a big jet. I think they said the hole was something like 20ft tall. The anti-conspirators said that the hole was roughly the same height as the jet would have been, which was much larger than 20ft. Both sides look at the same photo of a hole, but somehow measure two different sizes. In case you haven’t guessed, that means at least one of them is full of shit.

3)


The debris. Probably the best pro-conspiracy argument, though that’s really not saying much. They wonder, if a huge jet really crashed here, why don’t we see a huge mangled fuselage in any of the photos? I don't really have a good rebuttal for that one.

However, the part that really gets me is the argument over the pieces they do find.

There's a photo showing a piece of an engine. The anti-conspirators took one look at it and said “Yes, that’s definitely a Boeing engine.” The pros looked at it and said, “You can tell from the design, that’s not an engine from a Boeing.” They then show photos of a Boeing engine for comparison, which you still can’t tell shit from since the piece of engine in question is charred beyond recognition. Again, do you see the dilemma? Two people look at the exact same photograph, but say they see two different things.

There is no #4. If you see the number 4 appear on the list, it means the code got screwed up somehow and I'm too lazy and inexperienced to fix it.

So, what does this mean? Obviously, it means that at least one of them, if not both, is full of shit. However, the magnitude of the shit could be worse than you thought. I almost hope there is a conspiracy being covered up here, because blatant lying is probably the best case scenario at this point, as far as my faith in the government, and humanity in general, goes.

Allow me to explain. When someone is wrong, it can typically be for one of three reasons:

1) The Bold-Faced Lie. The person in question knows what they said is wrong, but are lying to your face to deceive you. It’s crooked and underhanded, but I think it beats the opposite end of the spectrum.

2) The Save-Face Lie. I made that term up, and plan to copyright it. This is when they don’t know what they are talking about, but they try to bullshit their way through it to make you think they know what they are talking about. I am inclined to like this scenario better. It’s really a hard decision: would you rather have your government be deceitful and corrupt, or just have no clue what the fuck they’re doing? However, it’s safe to say I’d gladly take either of those over the last one:

3) The Confused Bigot. This is when they aren’t lying at all. They honestly believe that they are right, even though they are clearly wrong. They often ignore evidence and logic alike to support their point of view, and really have no place among sentient human society.

4)

Number 3 is my ultimate fear. Well, technically my ultimate fear is having my erect penis split in half directly down the middle with a sharp object, but that’s beside the point. My next to ultimate fear is the fear of having to deal with a number 3.

In fact, I honestly believe I will die in an argument with a number 3. I will show them evidence of why they are wrong, but they will disregard it without justification. I will rebut their counterpoints, and they will just get red in the face and state their counterpoints louder. I will start to lose my patience and hit them with a chain of logic and evidence that surely no one can resist. Then, they will respond by saying something in their defense that does not defend them in any way. They will use a chain of logic of their own that is so flawed that it’s utterance would make the ground shift from the sudden force of every thinking man in the history of the world turning over in his grave. They would utter this phrase that is so stupid, I cannot imagine it yet.

Surely, upon hearing this blasphemy against all things rational, my mind will collapse like a piece of rotten fruit. My jaw will drop so hard in disbelief that it will come unhinged. My eyeballs will pop clear out their sockets. Blood will spray out of my ears and nose like someone just turned on a faucet. My entire body will spontaneously combust. Then, finally, in an unearthly scream of pure agony, my head will explode like that guy from Scanners, sending chunks of skull and meat and gray matter all over the place, leaving nothing but a cauterized stump where my head should be. Finally, my bloody smoldering carcass will collapse to the ground, utterly defeated by the ultimate stupidity of man.

Erratic Update/Harrowing Tale: I got my PS2 back.

It's actually quite the story. There's intrigue, betrayal, revenge, and murder. At least, there would have been if Schunk hadn't caved so easy.

I lent my PS2 to my friend/arch nemesis. I didn't have a tv, and figured he could get better use out of it than me. I was being quite generous, considering Schunk has a track record of being untrustworthy, brash, reckless, and kind of a dick. Still, I somehow in the back of my mind thought I was going to get it back in time for my birthday trip home (which is this Saturday, by the way)

I talked with him on AIM a bit earlier this week, and it was obvious he didn't want to give it up. So, I devised a scheme to get it back. While he was away at practice or something, I was going to sneak into the room and retrieve the console, along with the game I lent him. (which I still own him in)

However, it was not to be. You see, I'm not the 1337 ninja I make myself out to be. Though I can get into Benoit House on my own with ease, opening the door to Schunk's room is a little beyond my skill set. So, I figured I'd get a co-conspirator: Schunk's roomate, and my former roomate, whom we will refer to as Big Guy, because his real name is wholy uninteresting.

The following AIM conversation is real. Only the name has been changed to protect the guilty. I'll let it speak for itself.

danmayerisgod (12:13:18 PM): Hey, Big Guy. It's Dan. Shunk isn't there, is he?
MJtheDealer (12:13:31 PM): hahaha yea he is
danmayerisgod (12:13:36 PM): dammit
danmayerisgod (12:13:52 PM): I want to sneak in there when he's not around and take the ps2 back
MJtheDealer (12:14:19 PM): yea... hes been sleepin since his prac
danmayerisgod (12:14:36 PM): will you IM me when he leaves?
MJtheDealer (12:14:52 PM): im not sure wen hes leavin
MJtheDealer (12:14:59 PM): i have class soon
danmayerisgod (12:15:44 PM): Well, maybe later.
MJtheDealer (12:16:01 PM): yea its a gamble for u danny boy
MJtheDealer (12:16:12 PM): jus beat up schunk and take it
danmayerisgod (12:16:24 PM): is he a really sound sleeper?
danmayerisgod (12:16:31 PM): if so, I could just come get it now
MJtheDealer (12:16:44 PM): nah hes not
MJtheDealer (12:16:53 PM): actually hes awake now
MJtheDealer (12:17:40 PM): but... danny boy i gotta get goin
MJtheDealer (12:17:45 PM): good luck w/ the ps2
danmayerisgod (12:17:45 PM): alright, I'll see about it later tonight. If he's still there, I'm just gonna walk in and take it anyway.
danmayerisgod (12:17:52 PM): later
MJtheDealer went away at 12:18:06 PM.


A few moments later, I had this conversation with Schunk:

sexecutioner044 (12:18:24 PM): what the fuck do u think ur doing
danmayerisgod (12:18:35 PM): ?
sexecutioner044 (12:18:53 PM): dont play games w/ me danny boy
sexecutioner044 (12:18:59 PM): ur gonna sneak in here
danmayerisgod (12:19:09 PM): you look at Big Guy's screen or something?
danmayerisgod (12:19:14 PM): or did he just tell you?
sexecutioner044 (12:19:20 PM): u make me sick
sexecutioner044 went away at 12:19:30 PM.


Yes, Big Guy betrayed my trust and told Schunk all about it. I was as shocked and apalled as you probably are now.

Naturally, I couldn't let this stand. After I got back to my room that night after dinner, I sent Schunk a final ultimatum. At least, I was going to, until he decided to draw out the cat and mouse game even further.

(When you're reading this, keep in mind that I don't believe a word he's saying. I'm playing along to test his mettle and call his bluff, and he in turn stands strong. This is how arch nemeses interact)

sexecutioner044 (9:38:03 PM): i threw out ur ps2
danmayerisgod (9:38:13 PM): fuck you
sexecutioner044 (9:38:30 PM): i got bored w/ it
sexecutioner044 (9:38:35 PM): do u have a tv yet
danmayerisgod (9:38:39 PM): soon
danmayerisgod (9:38:41 PM): very soon
sexecutioner044 (9:38:52 PM): i dont believe u
danmayerisgod (9:39:10 PM): my birthday's saturday
sexecutioner044 (9:39:51 PM): well its too bad u wont have a ps2 to celebrate w/
danmayerisgod (9:40:34 PM): well, are you sure it's not still there somewhere?
sexecutioner044 (9:40:49 PM): i let my friend borrow it
danmayerisgod (9:41:12 PM): which friend now?
sexecutioner044 (9:41:22 PM): some big tough kid
sexecutioner044 (9:41:31 PM): he said hes keeping it
danmayerisgod (9:41:35 PM): what's his name. I'll get it from him
sexecutioner044 (9:41:40 PM): hes 300 lbs and hes black
danmayerisgod (9:41:48 PM): name? room #?
sexecutioner044 (9:41:59 PM): his name is bonecrusher mcgoo
sexecutioner044 (9:42:10 PM): he lives in sheahan 214
danmayerisgod (9:42:29 PM): well, what are you doing tomorrow morning?
sexecutioner044 (9:42:38 PM): lacrosse
sexecutioner044 (9:42:40 PM): then class
danmayerisgod (9:42:48 PM): leave your door unlocked
sexecutioner044 (9:42:56 PM): i dont have ps2
sexecutioner044 (9:43:00 PM): mcgoo has it
danmayerisgod (9:43:08 PM): I can pick the lock if I have to
sexecutioner044 (9:43:15 PM): so be it
danmayerisgod (9:43:46 PM): maybe I should just come over now so I won't have to bother matt tomorrow
sexecutioner044 (9:43:54 PM): i dont have it
sexecutioner044 went away at 9:44:08 PM.
danmayerisgod (9:44:21 PM): You cannot hide.

---

Auto Response from sexecutioner044 (9:44:22 PM): Whatcha gonna do when Schunkamania runs wild on you?!?!?!

---

danmayerisgod (9:44:29 PM): I know where you live.

---

Auto Response from sexecutioner044 (9:44:29 PM): Whatcha gonna do when Schunkamania runs wild on you?!?!?!


And I did, indeed. Believe me, as much as I enjoy his antics, I'm not one to play cat and mouse all day. It was time to reclaim what was rightfully mine. (Holy crap, that sounded corny. My apologies) I went directly over to his room. The fool left it unlocked, but he wasn't alone. It turns out he was playing FIFA on the PS2 at that very moment. Well, I'm not one to back down. I told him why I was there. He naturally tried to continue with his evasive antics. I put up with it for a few minutes, but quickly tired of it. I stood my ground and laid down the law. Finally, after much cajolling (did I spell that right?), he caved when I called his final bluff. He said that Trey had a PS2, just not the power cord. He said he'd give the PS2 back if he could just keep the cord. Much to his dismay, I agreed. I got the PS2 back, and on top of that, managed to erode his mettle enough to get the power cord as well.

So, despite many perils, I won the day, and have the prize in my possession. And yet, the story is not over. This is but the end of a chapter in a long book. You see, our last Tag Team Title match was left undecided, and I plan to bring the titles back home where they belong, be it in SD!vs.RAW 2006, or SD!vs.RAW 2007. To paraphrase my worthy nemesis:

"Whatcha gonna do, brother?! Whatcha gonna do when Dannyboymania runs wild on you?!?!?!"

And Blogger is being a pain

My post wouldn't publish yesterday for some reason, so I've had to wait until today to try and get it to work. I'm hoping posting something here will somehow help the process along. You can tell how little I know about how this blogger software works. I also had something else to say, but can't remember what it was. Guess it wasn't that important.

Time to bitch and moan

I'm bored and irritated, so I'm going to do what I do best: complain. Feel free to skip this post.

Once again I was able unable to get a decent night's sleep, but was luckily able to make it to my 8:00am class without use of my alarm. I actually woke up around 5:45 and couldn't get back to sleep. Normally, I'd blame such things on stress/sleeplessness, but on this particular occasion, I think the most likely culprit would have to be the construction worker operating the jackhammer right outside my window at 5:45 in the fucking morning. Oh, lying in bed listening to that for an hour sure was a joy.

The walk to classes today was equally unpleasant, as it's been pouring all day. The weather has been lousy as hell all week. It hasn't stopped raining since Monday night, and apparently isn't going to until later this week. I also don't have my umbrella, which means I've been walking around soaking wet most of the day. Makes me wonder what the point of showering last night was. My frustration has naturally led to some violent thoughts, but I can't purge them in the realm of video games because I don't have a tv yet. Obviously, that means no cable as well. I've been so bored, I actually did some homework that isn't due until Thursday. Clearly, this is a sign of desperation.

I considered doing this other assignment where I have to write a short essay introducing myself to the instructor of my Statistics class (whom I can already tell I'm going to hate), but she really didn't give us any guidelines for it, which is among the more irritating things you can do to me. I can't stand not having clear direction. I love it when people give me freedom to do my own thing, but not in the realm of schoolwork. If you don't tell me what you want, all it results in is me getting a bad grade because what I gave you isn't what you wanted. It happened in IS Concepts, and it'll happen again.

Lastly, I've had the regular losing faith in myself and the rest of humanity thing going on lately, but I'm waiting until the anniversary of 9/11 to finish and publish that piece. I figure it's only appropriate, considering it's a central part of the piece.

Hiatus and College Stuff

I wish someone would tell me what that word actually means. Anyway, I've been busy trying to find myself and some spiritual crap like that. Anyway, I'm back at Marist now after an irritating move-in day. The radio show will probably be on again soon, and I'm going to see about recording shows to post here. I also have a good deal of stuff to talk about here that I just haven't found the time for yet. I'll post it sometime after I've had time to adjust my biological clock.

Just one thing to mention for now: I have an 8:00 am class, 4 days a week. My entire biology is going to have to shift dramatically before I can become capable of doing that. I don't know how I'm going to do that. I think it would be easier to self-exorcise a demon out of my own body than reset my biological clock to allow me to fully wake up and function properly at 8:00 am. As if that wasn't enough of a task, it's a Physics class. My brain hurts already.

I think the reason the class is 8:00 am is because it's taught by Rob Robinson, who has both a redundant name and a biology that is active early in the morning. I had him for an 8:00 am class last year as well. He apparently doesn't do afternoon or night classes. I guess he must be a werewolf or something. Or maybe he's just highly caffeinated. Who knows?

Oh, one last thing before I go: I wrote a pretty funny pilot for a sitcom, but I never made it or submitted it to Comedy Central. Maybe some other time if they have another contest or something. Really, I don't care that much. I'm not a writer really. The only real writing I'm going to do will end up in a video game I make. I already have a great one in the works. I can hereby guarantee that I will be filthy rich in 10 years.

And that's the end.

What do you want to see in the test pilot?

Well, I'm thinking about working on a test pilot for that Comedy Central contest, but I'm not entirely sure what I want to do with it. I was thinking some kind of reality show, only it would be a real reality show, not the crappy fake kind. I'm talking unscripted. So, I want to hear some suggestions as to what kind of stuff you, the good people of the internet, would like to see on TV, or at least on ifilm.com during the contest period.

Keep in mind the pilot has to be between 1 and 5 minutes, so I can't do anything too elaborate. Just give me something simple like "do a parody of When Harry Met Sally," or "just talk about stuff like on the blog," or "dude, I wanna see u dropkick someone." I threw that in because I would like to missile dropkick some poor sap, but will only do it by request. Tell me what you think. The power to change television forever is in your hands.

Disregard previous post: July 24th is Magellan Day

I had a thing on Thursday, so now Magellan Day will be this Monday. As a little goal for myself, I'm going to see how many roads I can find that are named after past U.S. presidents. I'm going to bring my camera along in case I find something picture-worthy.

Also, I saw something interesting on the FVZA website. Did you know Magellan was attacked by zombies? That's a pretty hardcore way to die.

Okay, that's it for now. [insert witty farewell message here]

Are you prepared to battle the undead?

I've always been of the belief that the world is going to end catastrophically. The most likely scenario is probably that the walking mental defects we call world leaders will finally snap and bomb the crap out of each other until the whole planet is cast into a nuclear winter. Another possibility, however, is that the undead will ravage the land.



I don't know about you, but I don't feel like being a snack for some dead guy with bad hygiene, so I think everyone on the planet should be prepared for an outbreak, no matter how unlikely one might seem. The FVZA website (linked above) is among the most professional-looking and extensive sources for information about how to prepare yourself for dealings with the undead. In fact, I'm embarrassed it took me this long to discover it.


I have long believed Jacko is undead, but I still can't prove it. If anyone finds conclusive proof, let me know.

So, to everyone who has too much free time and feels like they need to be ready for anything, check out the site, and do some research of your own if you have time. I don't know about you guys, but if there's an outbreak in my area, I'll be just fine. Unless there are werewolves. If there are werewolves, I'm screwed.

July 20th is Magellan Day

My sister and I decided to invent a holiday, so we created Magellan Day, because he deserves his own holiday. Why? First of all, his first name is Ferdinand, and that kicks ass. Second, he travelled around the entire world. He was a great explorer who deserves to be remembered by people who aren't history majors.

So, I invite everyone to celebrate Magellan Day on Thursday the 20th. Since I do not possess a form of transportation that could get me all the way around the earth, I will be celebrating by getting in my car and driving somewhere I have never been before, then pray to God I can find my way home. It will be a tremendous waste of gasoline, but for a guy like Magellan, I'd say it will be well worth it.

Mark it on your calendars, good people.

This Just In: We are all going to die.

I watched the evening news today. Remind me to never do that again for the rest of my life. The main story I was watching was about this kid who died choking on his own vomit. How did this happen, you might ask? Well, I might respond, it seems the ice in his drink was contaminated with viruses. That's right. Infected ice. It killed one boy, made several dozen others violently ill, and it could happen to you, too.

Okay, could someone explain to me why the newscasters feel the need to constantly remind me that I am a fragile human being who could die at any given minute on any given day? It seems the whole point of this story, aside from the side benefit of informing people, is to scare me shitless. But wait, there's more:

The news nuts with too much time on their hands decided to go to various fast food places and concession stands with a hidden camera to see how the ice is handled there. Most of the employees at these places, when going to get ice for someone's drink, either dropped the scoop directly into the ice chest, or ignored the scoop completely and just dipped the cup into the ice, thus putting their hands in the ice and exposing it to countless forms of contagious disease.

They even took samples of the ice to see exactly what was in it. Besides the garden variety rotavirus and influenza, at one place they found traces of fecal matter in the ice. Yes, fecal matter. Apparently, the ice guy at that place uses his hand to wipe his ass, but for reasons unknown cannot acknowledge the "Employees Must Wash Hands" sign, and a bunch of unlucky customers had to ingest trace amounts of his crap. Wonderful story to watch while you're eating dinner, eh?

As if that wasn't stupid enough, at the very end the anchor goes, "Oh, by the way, you might not be washing your hands properly. Go to our website to find out more." Apparently, there's a wrong way to wash your hands. Call me crazy, but I always thought scrubbing your hands with soap under running water was a simple concept, but apparently someone found a way to screw it up, and now the news must be spread before innocent lives are lost.

I actually went to the site, just in case I've been doing something wrong. It was a pain to find, but this is what it said: To wash hands, lather with hot water and soap for 20 seconds, rinse and dry on single-use paper towels. Apparently, I have been doing it wrong. I use cold water, and a hand towel which I often reuse. I guess I had better say my prayers tonight, as I will most likely be dead in a pool of my own vomit by morning. Well, at least I won't have to worry about contaminated ice anymore.

Goodbye, everyone. I don't want to die, but according to the team at News Channel 13, it is unavoidable. So, I hope you enjoyed reading my blog that I told you not to. God willing, I will either go to heaven, or perhaps someday be reincarnated. Here's hoping I'm taller next time around.

When it hails, it pours

This past Thursday, June 29th, I went into Sears portrait studio and filled out an application. It must have been my lucky day, as I got to meet the manager, and she set up an interview right away. I could barely contain my excitement. Finally, I was going to get a job, and a job I could tolerate. As I left the building, I joyously exclaimed, "It's a bright and sun-shiny day!"

A few hours later, my neighborhood got hit with a monster hail storm. How big is "monster", you ask? Click here and see for yourself. I put a few next to some loose change so you'd have a frame of reference.

Now, picture a couple million of those falling out of the sky, which is filled with black storm clouds. They really did a number on my mom's flowers, as well as the paint on our house.





However, the worst part had to be the trees. Oh, God, the trees. One was completely uprooted. Another hit our storage shed. Yet another came within inches of crushing my living room and/or impaling the AC unit next to the house.






Somehow, this lone soccer ball in the front yard completely escaped harm. This one I will never understand.



And for fun, here's one with my sister posing by the mangled tree trunk.



Most of these were taken the same day. I wasn't able to upload them until now because of a rather lengthy power outage. Talk about a living hell. I could only read until it got dark. The rest of the night left me utterly bored to tears. I sat in the living room, surrounded by candles, playing chess with my mom. And I lost. I ask you, how will I ever live that down?

Well, I guess that's about it. The next day was the interview. It turns out I was more than qualified for the job, but they were looking for someone to work in the fall, during which time I'll be at Marist again. So, I didn't get the job. Man, when it hails, it pours.

The Job Hunt and "The Heist"

I'm on summer vacation, and I'm trying to avoid thinking as much as possible. Unfortunately, some things have crossed my mind that I need to unload.

First off, I still haven't gotten a job. I've applied to a dozen places, and they always give me the same line: "I'll give this to my manager, and they'll call you in a few days." Look, I understand that they can't be bothered to call up all the losing applicants and telling them that they didn't get the job, but would it kill them to tell the truth? Just say something like, "Alright, I'll give this to my manager. We won't call you unless my manager thinks you're worth interviewing. If you don't get a call within the next week, it's because you have a piss poor resume and no experience, and being a college student, you're really more of an expendable resource than a person to us. We see no reason why we should give you an opportunity at a job when we can get some other kid with more experience who will work for longer hours and less money." A little courtesy is all I ask. Don't feed me some BS line about calling in the next few days when you have little or no intention of doing so.

In other news, I had a great idea for a TV show. I wanted to enter it to Comedy Central's pilot contest, but the contest ends before college starts up again, and I kind of need my buddies for this. Still, I might try to make a 5-minute pilot by myself, though I doubt it will come out well. If anyone cares what it's about, it's going to be a reality show in which we go behind the scenes of a short film I'm working on called "The Heist." The show would most likely have the same name. I figure any show featuring crazy college guys, guns and my razor-sharp wit will be a big hit. Hell, I'm just a walking fountain of dry wit already. Throwing guys like Schunk or Andrew into the mix would just make things even better.

So, I guess that's it for now. Here's hoping I become rich and famous with a hit TV show, or at least get that job at the liquor store.