deceptiveluke

I dropped my shoe in the toilet.

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 21:19:05 GMT

That's all.

The Luke is confused

Sat, 11 Aug 2007 05:16:13 GMT

Women suck.

That's number one.

Number two is what the hell happened?? Apparently Hell froze over, because it's vacationing in St. Louis right now til shit gets sorted out down there. Until then, demon tourists are enjoying the "all you can possess" buffet here (fuck you, highway traffic!)

Number three is...a bit more of a story. I was watching "A League of Their Own" on ABC Family Channel tonight (shut up, it's a good movie...). ABC Family is, of course, family orientated. So, any dialogue worse than "piss" or "balls" or "hell" or the like is edited out. During the commercial break, what do I see? A commercial for "Not Another Teen Movie" soon to be on TV. Not thinking, I switched channels. Then I frowned. I went back. "Not Another Teen Movie" will soon be airing on the ABC Family channel. This revelation made me pause. Dude.....seriously. Will there even be enough for a half hour left after editing?

Number four is a number.

The end.

This life scares me and I love every minute of it

Sun, 29 Jul 2007 06:02:20 GMT

...

All I can say is I look at my life right now, this moment. And I look at my past, and I try and think about my future. It's breathtaking to see the span it crosses and the amount of uncertainty there is.

I can't believe I'm going to get older. I can't fathom the things that will happen to me and the paths I will cross. I have NO idea what this life will be, and I can't wait to find out. I can't believe I'm going to live this life. It's like someone telling you "You will walk through this field. The path you take and how long you take is both up to you and nothing at all. But you will go from one side to the other."

What will I find in this field?

Lion King vs. Korn

Sun, 22 Jul 2007 21:53:44 GMT

NAAAAAAAA sa-BEMY-AH, konechi wa! Aaaii don't know da wahds, but aaaii act like aaaii doooo! Heemy ya!

AAAARRREE YOU READY???!!

Friday night was Korn at the Verizon Amp., VIP seats courtesy of marty's dad. Go Marty's dad. He rules. Fantastic time, great weather. I can't tell if my whiplash is from dancing like I got possessed by a demon and that demon is having a seizure, or if it's from whipping my head around looking at all the feminitas. Some major feminitas!

Saturday was the Lion King, and I gotta say, the costumes are sick. A friggin rhino walked right past me in the aisle. I was wondering how they would do the stampede scene, and it was pretty cool. They pulled it off well.

And after Lion King....something else happened. I'll post more about it later. Mwahaha, cliffhanger. Let's just say I was out til 5:30 am.

(by the way, I learned that the opening song of the Lion King translates to "Look, there's a lion!" That's it, just that, over and over. Still one of the most powerful songs to open a musical with, though)

Everyone wish Julie a Happy Birthday!

Sun, 22 Jul 2007 21:46:48 GMT

It's Julie's Birthday! Send her champagne wishes and caviar dreams! Or just do something like this:

Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday tooo yooouu!
Happy BIRTHDAY dear she's-cool-and-she's-25-now-and-that's-cool-too-so-wish-her-a-happy-birthday-for-her-because-she's-just-a-little-scatterbrained-but-that's-cool-cuz-we-love-her-cuz-she's-Juuuuuuuuuuuuulieeeeeeeeeeee!
Happy Birthday tooooooooo youuuuuuuuu!

Well, it's about time for this

Thu, 19 Jul 2007 04:51:16 GMT

I havent' posted at all what went on this past weekend up in Minnesota, and since I know all of you are passing out from holding your breath, I'll tell the story.

Wednesday we drove up to Mankato and spent the evening at my Uncle Mark's house with his family (my aunt and two cousins). I crashed there while my dad and his wife went to stay at my Uncle Joe's. Thursday slept in, then went out to Joe's cabin on a lake. Got there about 1 pm or so and decided fishing was not a bad idea. But we had no bait, so I made some bait out of cheese balls, raisins, and broken up Twizzlers. Just for the record, I did get a few bites with the Twizzlers. But I think it was too hard for the fish to bite through to get the hook, so it didn't work. I caught a few sunfish and a bullhead, but it was all just for fun. Dinner was waiting in the fridge in the form of hotdogs and fresh fruit. Mark caught the only "keeper" anyways when we went out in the boat, but we weren't keeping anything anyways.

After enjoying a beautiful evening at the cabin, my Dad, Jody, and I proceeded onward to the north of the Twin Cities to where the wedding would be. We got in, checked into the hotels (kickass pool area, btw) and then gambled a bit in the casino. Friday I helped set up the wedding reception room and suddenly learned that I'd be rowing a canoe across the lake for the ceremony. Ok, good times...I can handle that. Then I learned that I'd be rowing it back after the reception was over...which meant I'd be in the middle of the damn lake wearing dress clothes trying to row a canoe. This has officially achieved awesome. Friday night I gambled a bit more, broke even for that day, overall lost $20. Some of those blackjack dealers were just lights out. One hit three aces in a row to get 21. Now, come on!! WTF?

Saturday the wedding happened. It was a gorgeous day, I was in charge of parking. That went over as well as it could, and no one came up to me at the reception and was like "Dude, you told us to park in a horrible spot!" And then followed the reception with the eating of the good food and taking of the hopefully good pictures and the karaoke. Yes, karaoke. The DJ was a complete jackass and kept bumping back my song until finally I was ready to leave and the bride convinced him to put it next. I didn't want that to happen, but oh well. Karaoked "Love Shack" with the entire female half of the wedding party and just about every other girl in the joint. It was a shame that the retarded DJ didn't put it on earlier, because we had the place hoppin! Seriously, we killed it, but it was so late only about a quarter of the people were there. He wasted time with all these other lame songs of people who had already gone, and we step up and blast it outta the park. Fuck you, DJ Ass.

Sunday had some good breakfast and then hightailed it back home.

Post-wedding carnage report:
$20 poorer due to gambling
$200 poorer from general expenses, including hotel stay
2 canoe trips across a lake richer.
1 wedding richer.
1 fish almost caught using Twizzler as bait.

That's it, I'm outta here!

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 07:43:29 GMT

Today I saw a Chihuahua trying to hump a brick.

Which, by the way, earns today's Awesome Stamp. **THUNK**--The Awesome Stamp is hereby dedicated to the "I'm so horny I'm stupid" Chihuahua. Good job, taco icon.

In other news, an old friend of mine may be dead. Don Weeks, a guy I went to school with, may have been struck by lightning and killed Monday. Some of you may have already heard...I don't know if this is the actual Don Weeks I know...I sincerely hope it's not, but the details are eerily accurate.

In other news, I'm leaving town tomorrow (well, today actually) to go to Minnesota for a friend's wedding. Yes, another friend of mine is getting married. I think this one will make 11 weddings that I have been to. Good times. I'll do my best to not drink at all and not approach any hot bridesmaids.

Til Sunday!! Marty, pray for rain on Thursday so the game will be postponed so I can play softball against you again and win and RECLAIM MY HONOR!

nothing important, really...

Sat, 07 Jul 2007 04:17:53 GMT

PLAIN WHITE T'S
"Hey There Delilah"

Hey there Delilah
What's it like in New York City?
I'm a thousand miles away
But girl tonight you look so pretty
Yes you do
Times Square can't shine as bright as you
I swear it's true

Hey there Delilah
Don't you worry about the distance
I'm right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice it's my disguise
I'm by your side

Refrain:
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
What you do to me

Hey there Delilah
I know times are getting hard
But just believe me girl
Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar
We'll have it good
We'll have the life we knew we would
My word is good

Hey there Delilah
I've got so much left to say
If every simple song I wrote to you
Would take your breath away
I'd write it all
Even more in love with me you'd fall
We'd have it all

(Refrain)

A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they've got planes and trains and cars
I'd walk to you if I had no other way
Our friends would all make fun of us
and we'll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way
Delilah I can promise you
That by the time we get through
The world will never ever be the same
And you're to blame

Hey there Delilah
You be good and don't you miss me
Two more years and you'll be done with school
And I'll be making history like I do
You'll know it's all because of you
We can do whatever we want to
Hey there Delilah here's to you
This ones for you

(Refrain)

Well, that's all lovely and such, and the song is actually nice. Quiet, peaceful, etc. and whatnot. I'm a little curious, though. Does Delilah actually exist? If you take this song word for word, then it's actually a nice story: girl and guy, separated by distance, but together in love, peanut butter sandwiches for everyone.

I'm all for em, and I really really hope that it's either true or that they make it...because what if they don't? Suddenly the song that made this band famous becomes a constant reminder of something he doesn't want to remember. I guess I'm saying that if she does exist and they are together, I really hope they make it, because that'd be perfect. And lately the world could use a little of that.

There's really no point to this post.

Oh, by the way, today's Awesome Stamp is dedicated to the semi-truck on the highway. It had written on the back "Be a flirt, lift your shirt." Awesome Stamp awarded **THUNK!**.

Happy Let's-Blow-Stuff-Up Day!!

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 03:14:12 GMT

Shame on me, I forgot to start off the "Awesome Stamp" of the day yesterday. It would, of course, have gone to the Transformers movie. For shame, Luke, for shame. 50 lashes, and a nipple twister. I hope I learned my lesson.

So, today, I dedicate the Awesome Stamp to the 4th of July! **THUNK!** Happy 4th, everyone! I hope it was great!

O.M.F.G.

Wed, 04 Jul 2007 08:24:37 GMT

I just saw Transformers, and I'll never be the same. Holy effin' hell. Seriously, see it. I don't care if you don't care about Transformers, I don't care if you don't like Michael Bay, I don't care about whatever. SEE. IT. And take me. I wanna see it again.

Oh, that's not good.....no, that's just not good!

Tue, 03 Jul 2007 19:02:33 GMT

Well, late last night I went to a Schnucks to buy some more contact lens solution. The stuff I've been using since I've gotten contacts (since before highschool) is Complete. But it wasn't on the shelf. In it's place was a piece of paper talking about how all Complete products have been recalled due to recent outbreaks of "eye injury" traced back to the product. Apparently there's some kinda parasite that got into the recent batch of Complete that can cause eye problems, including blindness. The letter advised anyone using the product to get rid of it and switch both contacts and cases--total overhaul. As one who uses/used Complete....I'm left standing as a paranoid wreck. So...for anyone out there reading this who doesn't know yet, Complete bad! Your eyes will melt and stuff!

Just try and guess where this is from...

Mon, 02 Jul 2007 06:21:26 GMT

::singing in a stereotypical Italian chef voice::

"I like-ah macaroni,
it is a good-ah,
when you put-ah gouda,
on-ah the macaroni!"

Who knew?

Tue, 26 Jun 2007 19:40:12 GMT

More of my recent posts have been toeing a little too closely to the "deep and thoughtful" category, so here's something fun and short that requires almost no thinking at all!

I fed a squirrel a Frito the other day!

Apparently squirrels like Frito's. Who knew? I actually called him over and he came within a foot of me. I tossed him a Frito and he picked it up and started nibbling. Good times. Now I just hope I didn't give the lil' bugger flaming diarrhea or something...

Mon, 25 Jun 2007 00:26:58 GMT

I've been wondering lately if I'm too trusting or gullible. The recent situation with the "scammed" tool ticket has kind of brought it forth a little more, but for the most part I've been wondering if my brain is minus a bit of knowledge that everyone else knows. "Why the hell did you do that? Everyone knows thats blah blah blah blah!"

Well, last night another situation came up. I worked at Debonaire, the new "mini-windows" job. Work was pretty much over at 11:30, but I stayed later to talk with my supervisors and unwind from the evening. When I did leave, I drove almost all the way home on no gas, thinking about where I should stop and get some. For some reason, I don't like stopping halfway. I will if I have to, but I mostly like to stop at the gas station closest to my place. That way, I don't have another ten minutes to drive til I get home. For me, that gas station was the QT on Redman, off of Highway 367. Pretty close to my apartment.

As I walked towards the door to prepay, I noticed a woman sitting on a black bag right outside the door. She looked like she wasn't having the best night, and I was curious, but minded my own business. After paying for gas I walked back out, started the pump, and then watched her. I saw her use her cell phone, and then she hung up aggressively and swore. The pump was done, so I put it back, and after thinking for a few minutes, I walked over to her and saw that she was crying. I asked her if she needed any help.

The girl, Erica, then told me that she was at a wedding over in Illinois with her date. She was the date, so she didn't know anyone else at the wedding. On the way back over here, they apparently had an argument and he kicked her out on the side of the highway and drove off. She called the police, and they picked her up and drove her to the QT. Then the police basically told her that her situation sucked but she'd have to figure it out herself--they did their job. So the cops left her there, and apparently no cab service is available late Saturday nights, because she kept getting message services when she called. Besides that, her mother--who was aware of her situation--doesn't drive, and all her friends had been drinking, so they couldn't drive either. So, she seemed stuck at the gas station.

After looking in the phone books for a bit and having not much luck, I offered to give her a ride somewhere. Ultimately she lives in O'Fallon, and when she said that I cursed inwardly. But she didn't want to go all the way out there, she just wanted to go to her mom's house. Her mom lived down near the Zoo. She seemed wary of hopping into some stranger's car in the middle of the night, and I don't blame her. And I was wary too. Here, my "gullible" bug was biting and I was wondering if I'd end up getting mugged or carjacked or raped in the face or something...But, I went with my gut this time. After talking to her friend on the phone, where we exchanged information, she agreed to let me drive her down to Hampton.

It took about 25 minutes, and we talked on the way down. When I got there her mom and her friends all thanked me and gave me gas money. Erica seemed pretty shook up when she got there, I guess she was relieved. I said goodnight and drove home.

I would like to sit here and say I'm a wonderful person, but if the situation were different in a few details, I wouldn't have done it. I wouldn't have done it for a guy, probably. I probably wouldn't have done it if there was somewhere I wanted to be at that time. I'm still pondering at the way things work, how the sequence of events led up to that. Deciding which gas station to stop at on the way home. And I'm also slightly astonished at the nonchalant reaction of the officers and the fact that there's no taxi service at that hour. I'm sure I'm missing some other options, but what if someone else was in that situation and someone didn't offer to help? I'd rather not think about it.

So, am I a fool?

My letter to the Covenant of Halo

Fri, 22 Jun 2007 07:36:32 GMT

I've been gettin' back to my roots and playing the original Halo game....on Legendary mode. For Marty, David, and Nicole, you probably know what this means. To quote David, "the elites do not miss." Very true. Neither do the Grunts, Jackals, or Hunters. They've all become a collective sea urchin up my ass sideways. To the Covenant forces, I have a message for each of you:

To the Grunts--I don't care if you're powerful in numbers. STOP STICKING PLASMA GRENADES ON ME. It's annoying to surgically cut through your stupid little gay band and then, while behind cover, get hit with a sticky grenade. While I'm at it, SHUT UP. No one cares that "they're everywhere!"

To the Jackals--STOP HIDING BEHIND YOUR DAMN SHIELD. I have to say, you are the most unexpected and irritating of hurdles of this game. Honestly, when I pick up your stupid gun and shoot it, it runs out of battery or overheats. Does it do that for you? Noooo! And by the way, my shields hate your overcharged shots. CUT THAT SHIT OUT. I didn't carefully and strategically take a half hour to get the overshield box just so you could make the whole damn thing disappear with one shot. ENOUGH.

To the Elites--Don't be like my asshole cheating dartboard and never register a miss. You can't be THAT great of a shot. Also, ENOUGH with the active camouflage. It's bad enough that you're stronger, faster, you never miss, your shields are better, and one hit from you completely drains my shields. I'm tired of thinking I've made it and then suddenly "WHACK! Wort wort wort!" I've fired off toilet nuggets prettier than you. You suck, and your mother never loved you.

To the Hunters--Honest to God, you might be the easiest things to fight in this whole game. All I have to do is get in close, sidestep your stupid arm swing, and put one bullet from my gun into your exposed backside. Slightly gay nuances aside, you're pretty easy to take down. What pisses me off is when you fire that damn gun at me from 50 yards away. I have "real" opponents to defeat in front of me, thank you. I don't need you feeling inadequate and therefore firing your gun off like it's warranty is almost up. SIT YOUR BIG ORANGE ASS DOWN AND WAIT YOUR TURN TO DIE LIKE A GOOD LITTLE ALIEN.

To the Flood and Sentinels--FUCK. YOU. You think I'm gonna even TRY to take you on when a lowly group of Jackals and Grunts can give me so much grief? I'm not going anywhere near that headache. For the record, though, I barely stay in the single digits of a death count when facing you on normal mode, and you piss me off enough there. I don't need anymore, thank you. You can have the damn universe. 14 million light years to the nearest gas station anyways, who needs that bullshit? Not me. MC, out.

A little piece 'o me. You know you want it.

Fri, 22 Jun 2007 07:31:37 GMT

First and fore-friggin-most, TOOL is only 18 hours away. I repeat: TOOL. 18 HOURS AWAY. I'm not sure a day ever looked longer. I find peace in the knowledge that sooner than later I'll be off work and on my way downtown to the ScottTrade Center. I can't express how much I need this. The past few weeks have been a bit agonizing and thorn-in-sideyish, and it's ALL gonna get vented out at this concert. I still think TicketMaster and ScottTrade Center are dick wrinkles for not having the floor be general admission. I mean, COME ON! The ONE time I have a really good shot at seeing TOOL from the unholy front row, and they assign seats on the floor!! I swear, if I EVER meet the jackass that made this bonehead call, I'll switch his nuts with his eyes. We'll call him "Ol' Gonad Face." Or "Ol' Looking Sack."

Speaking of Tool, I did manage to sell my last remaining ticket. Didn't quite go as planned, but all's well that ends well.

I played Marty and The Holy-Soft-Balls, Batman! Team of Our Redeemer tonight. My team, Atonement, again managed to screw up just enough to lose by a few runs. Of course I contributed, what kind of team player would I be if I didn't?

Chalk another friend to the Marriage Monster, as my friend Ryan is getting married in July. I'll be journeying up to Minnesota for the event the weekend of the 14th.

I've already dubbed the year of 2007 as "The Taylor-Made Luke Year" because of all the fantastic shit happening. Almost became "The year of the trilogy" but that was kinda vague. Pirates 3, Spiderman 3, Halo 3, as well as The Transformers, The Simpsons, Live Free or Die Hard, Harry Potter 5, the Tool concert....seems like this summer in particular was engineered for me and my inner geek. (NOTE: Luke's inner geek is actually a supreme and dominant outer geek, but he sez otherwise because the ladies love the self-conscious type. I mean, that would explain all the girlfriends I've had lately, right?)

This has been a little piece o' me. I hope you enjoyed, because I'm going straight to your thighs.

Why haven't I posted lately?

Mon, 11 Jun 2007 06:29:56 GMT

Honestly, because I don't spend much time on the computer anymore. Really, I operate more as a weird "hit-n-run" assasin guy. Get in, make the hit, get out. Check email (but dont' respond because that takes time), check bank account, hit Facebook, hit Myspace and delete all the stupid "check out my naked site" girls that try and friend me, think about checking them out but realizing it's nsfw,......and occassionally hit up Red vs Blue for the latest episode. That's it. So, posting on the LJ has taken a back seatish.

To make up for it, I will now post absolutely NOTHING of importance!

Item 1! Is it wrong to continuously think that one of your coworkers looks like a mummified clown?

Item 2! In one country, it is normal for people to have secret sex with dead chickens. For the love of God, that line is NOT my own. Knowing that now, allow me to repeat the best part of it: SECRET SEX. WITH DEAD CHICKENS. Public sex with dead chickens? Have you no shame?!! Secret sex? That's normal.

Item 3! Have you SEEN the trailers for Transformers? Please, America, allow me to completely geek out until this movie hits the theaters, whereupon I will see it, go into geek-overload, have a geek-attack, and go into geekiac arrest. Then I should be fine.

Item 4! What's the latest most awesome thing I've done lately? Why, I placed a Susan B. Anthony coin in the bullseye of my dartboard, then gave myself exactly one shot to hit the bullseye and cause the coin to fly out. Did I do it? Oh, hell yes I did. I actually managed to hit the exact spot needed to clip the coin and still stay in the dartboard. Amazed? Yes, I will have one of those, thank you.

Item 5! To whichever dickwad pissed me off on I-270 last night, I hope you die in a storm of ass-shrapnel. (that line, by the way, IS my own. I'm quite proud of it.)

Item 6! This past weekend was a rollercoaster of hell peppered with unfair bright moments to give me hope! More later!

The air is thinner up here

Tue, 29 May 2007 01:04:12 GMT

I'm in Colorado! Scoobie snacks for everyone!

I flew down/up/across here to see my buddy Jay from college. He turned 25 today, so I thought I'd come see him.

Yesterday Jay had to work so his girlfriend Whitney took me out to go hiking in Chautauqua Park. It was pretty awesome. I've always enjoyed hiking, and this particular trail we took totaled up the stats of 4 hours, around 7 miles, and elevation from 5,500 to 7,000 feet, roundtrip. The higher we climbed, the steeper it got, and the rock formations really started to wow me. Plus, the view was kickass. There was one part where a HUGE boulder was next to a tree, and I thought I could climb the tree and get on top of the boulder. So I did, but at the top of the tree it appeared like getting to the boulder would be no trouble, but getting back would be. So I opted to just enjoy the view from up in the tree. All in all, awesome time. I encourage hiking to everyone.

Also, Jay, Whitney, myself, and whoever else are going to the Cardinals-Rockies game tomorrow night. You should look for me, because I'll be sporting Cardinal red! Good times!

My love to all back in the muggy St. Louis! Peas out!

I name thee "Bunglor!"

Tue, 08 May 2007 03:31:59 GMT

Either that, or Gilbert Godfrey says "YOU FOOL!!"

We've got a tight race for the title of "Bunglor", the Bungle Champion. Of course, "bungling" is a term equal to that of "dropping the ball" or "making a bad decision" or "total fuckup." But I don't think I've ever seen such a close home-stretch race for the title.

Leading the pack is Stan Lee/Sam Raimi/any person who knows comic books who had a hand in making or writing SpiderMan 3. I won't delve into details for those who haven't seen the movie. But, Stan, Sam, whoever....YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!!! DON'T PRETEND YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID!! BAD RICH IDIOT!!! NO! NO!! **swats them on their noses with a rolled up newspaper**

A close second is Tony LaRussa. First, let me set the scene: Top of the ninth in tonight's game against the Rockies, two on, two out, with Cardinal's left-hander Tyler Johnson facing off against some right-handed batter. The score is tied, 2-2. Johnson had just struck out a very threatening batter to make it two outs, and the count on the new batter is 2 balls(giggle), and 1 strike. Here's where Tony goes from just "Tony" to a Bunglor candidate. He has Johnson intentionally walk the batter. ??? WTF, dude? I know the next batter was a lefty, but that walk loads the bases, and you have to consider the possibility that Johnson will either miss location, or he might make a really good pitch and not get the call from the umpire! And that's just what happened...Johnson walked the next guy and consequently, the winning run.
3-2 now, Rockies over the Cardinals, and that's how it ended. BAD TONY! NO! NO!! YOU CRAP IN THE NEIGHBOR'S YARD, NOT ON YOUR OWN CARPET! **swats nose with a rolled up newspaper**

Bringing up the rear but still in contention is my pot-smoking neighbor. I've discovered I literally hate the smell of weed. And when he smokes it, I smell it. And it's driving me a little crazy. BAD WEED HEAD! NO! NO!! NO.....GETTING HIGH! VERY BAD!! **swats nose with rolled up newspaper, but not before he mistakes it for a giant doobie and tries to smoke it**

If anyone else has a "Bunglor" candidate they'd like to nominate, feel free.

Here's what I've been thinking of lately...

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 06:27:38 GMT

Cardinals middle relief pitcher Josh Hancock died early Sunday morning in a car crash. I feel a bit bad because he was my least favorite Cardinal pitcher. I swear, every time I saw him he gave up homeruns, so much to the point that I thought other teams were paying him to purposely do that. But now I feel a bit like an ass. So, about 5 years after Darryl Kyle, Josh Hancock follows him at the age of 29.

Water tastes so damn good when it's nice and cold and the weather is warm.

What the friggin' hell did James Bond, 007, ever do to deserve "Casino Royale?" For that matter, what the friggin hell did he do to deserve "Die Another Day?"

Anti-money sucks.

I hate the fact that a delusional child of a wannabe rapper makes more money in a week than a school teacher makes in a year. I also hate the fact that no matter how noble this job seems, it just can't exist peacefully without some dumbass out there deciding it's okay to molest his/her students.

As shocking as this may be, sometimes I just wish the world would hit one of those movie "armageddons" like zombies or rebellious machines. Just to simplify things. "I don't have to pay my electric bill? Because zombies are spreading all over the place and taking over the world?........well, there's something very kick ass about that. Now, two questions....where can I get a truck, and how many zombies will it take to install my new 60" TV and surround system?" And even though that may be shocking, I just bet some of you out there have thought the same thing!

Genes suck.

The Wii is like crack for your hands.

Why can't life come with a rewind button? Because then your life would get scratched up when you keep rewinding and watching that one night back in '03. Ahhhh.....

"Ah-wee-mo-wah, ah-wee-mo-wah, ah-wee-mo-wah, ah-wee-mo-wah, ah-wee-mo-wah, ah-wee-mo-wah, ah-wee-mo-wah, ah-wee-mo-wah...In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight. In the jungle, the quiet jungle, the lion sleeps tonight. Ah-WEEEEEEEeeeeeeEEEEEEeeeeeEEEooooh mum-oo-waaaaayyy!"

Songs stuck in your head suck.

I took these pills for my turrets, but they're NOT %*@#^! WORKING.

Mon, 23 Apr 2007 23:33:50 GMT

Why can't I ever enforce MY policy, huh? It's always the other guy that gets his! Oh, it's your policy to charge a fee for paying over the phone? Well, it's my policy to policy to fuckin NOT! What then?! Oh, it's your policy to make me write a formal complaint rather than just tell it to you? Well, it's MY policy to introduce your colon to this broken bottle! Policies sure are swell, aren't they??

Anyways.....It's Ticketmaster's policy to not offer refunds or exchanges for tickets, even if it's within 24 hours, or even just 10 damn minutes.

Tickets for the Tool show in June went on sale this past Saturday at high noon, and I wanted a floor ticket for myself. But when I tried to buy one at 12:00:01, they weren't any left. So, I bought one for a seated section and went on my merry way. Fast forward to about an hour later when I got back on and decided to see if the show was sold out, just for my amusement. Surprised was I when I found a seat closer to the stage. So, I bought that one, thinking "It's so soon after I bought the last one, surely I should be able to simply cancel it." Then, I decided to fish for a floor ticket. And surprised again as one turned up, so I bought that one. Pleased with my luck, I forgot that nothing is simple with me, and called Ticketmaster to try and cancel those first two tickets. Apparently they let their C or even D-level staff handle the weekend shift, so I got some idiot telling me that he can't help me and I'll have to call back on Monday. I did, and the guy eventually told me that once I bought em, they're mine, and that's it. He did consult with his supervisor and then nicely offer me their "one-time complimentary service" of canceling the last ticket I ordered. It took all my moxy and gumption to not tell him "Well, if it wasn't a better seat, I wouldn't have bought it, so obviously that's the one I want to keep." Instead, I said no thanks and hung up.

So, now, I have two extra single seat tickets to the Tool show this June. It's a Friday, the 22nd. I'd really really like to get my money back for these, so if anyone out there wants em, I'll sell em to ya. Gotta tell ya, too, these are nice seats. First tier, no further than halfway from the stage. Let me know if you can help me out. They cost $50 each. Thanks for your help in this dark time. Your strength gives me strength.

I got gas!

Sun, 15 Apr 2007 04:44:49 GMT

Traffic jams should not happen at 11 pm. I don't care what the fuck happens, I don't care if the damn highway itself is on fire. Just drive, idiots, and don't crash. I have to deal with enough traffic from rush hour and morons who slow down to look at a tow truck. DRIVE. FORWARD. I don't need anymore traffic jams at times when there shouldn't be any traffic at all.

As far as the title is concerned, I think I finally beat The Man, in an indirect, "whoops" kinda way. I was getting gas at a station earlier, and the pump was screwed up. After a few seconds of pumping, it said to see the cashier for assistance. But the thing kept pumping! There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it. I stopped pumping, and the screen went back to show that I had only pumped about 3/4 of a GALLON. Not a tank, a gallon. Seemed odd, because the pump sounded fine. you know how you can kinda hear the difference when a pump is fine and messed up? This one sounded ok. So, I pumped more gas, and when I hung up the pump again, it said I had pumped even less gas. So, I went in and got some eateries, and told the clerk the pump seemed messed up. When I got in my car, the tank meter reached up to about half a tank. So, I got about 8 gallons of gas for less than the price of one. Score!

Would you rather I called you "sugar tits?"

Fri, 13 Apr 2007 09:14:30 GMT

You'd think, or at least hope, that if your work isn't exactly filling your bank account the way you'd like that it'd make up for it in other ways, yeah? Like giving you a wonderful sense of accomplishment or something. Not today. Today I learned things you mostly find in the "stupid bin."

First, someone tell me who the fuck authorized the idea to cover Gnarls Barkely's song "Crazy." Tell me, so I may duct tape some headphones to their ears and play both horrible songs on repeat. It's enough that the original song sucks. Ok, it was catchy for maybe the first few seconds, but after that hearing it kept causing me to puke up my own colon. Not fun. But then someone decided, "Hey, even though this song is only a few months old, let's do a cover of it! And not only that, let's turn the song into a soft, docile acoustic version sung by a breathy woman! It'll sound like a lullaby!" Great move, there, scarecrow. If you only had a brain, I swear....

Second, I now know that if I were to ever work in a factory that makes coathangers, I would kill myself. I would kill myself, I would end my being, I would snuff out my own existence so extravagantly that I'd probably get a TV movie made about it, at least. I hate hangers, I hate hangers, I HATE HANGERS. Metal, plastic, big, small, doesn't matter, I hate them! Damned retarded things find the most sadistic and soulless ways of tangling up!! And just when you think you have it, the other end tangles up in some other damn shit! I hate hangers, and if I were forced to handle them all day I'd end up killing myself. I would go completely bonkers, I'd go Bond-villian on my own ass. I'd drink poison, set myself on fire, tie a noose around my neck attached to a tree hanging over a 2000 foot cliff and then I'd jump off and shoot myself in the head in midair. Either that, or I'd meticulously hunt down every fucking hanger in the world, fill an active volcano with them, and jump in strapped to a nuke and let the holy fire take em all with me. I HATE HANGERS.

Third, I learned that women are still insane. Honestly, ladies, I love ya, and I still offer ass insurance, but c'mon! You have to know you're at least a little off the map? Lemme lay out the scene that sparked this realization. I asked a female coworker how she was doing, and when she didn't respond, I said "I said, how are you, woman?" Some of you ladies may have winced there and said "not a good move, buddy." The girl in question said "Don't call me woman." I was a bit confused, because I couldn't tell if she was honestly upset or kidding. And since I was kidding, I wanted to assume that she knew that and was kidding back. Also because I don't like rubbing anyone the wrong way. I try hard to not be a jerk, I go out of my way sometimes, and when it happens involuntarily, it's like I let myself down. And I said "Seriously?" She said "Yeah, don't call me that." Let's completely put aside the kidding factor for a second and just look at it as me calling her "woman." How is that an insult? THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE! I didn't call you "babe" or "chick" or "sugar tits" or anything! I called you "woman!" Would you rather I called you "sugar tits?" Because I can do that. I'd rather not, because I personally think that's disrespectful. Unless you actually get a boob job and the boobs are made of sugar. Then it actually might work.... But anyways, I was kidding. I didn't say it seriously! You know there's a different tone for serious and kidding, right? Besides, "woman?" This isn't the 30's anymore! Who the hell still uses that phrase as a form of disrespect? I wasn't about to tell her to bring me a beer while she's washing the dishes or anything! This isn't even the half of it! Earlier, I was looking for a paper clip, and the same girl was sitting at the desk. And I asked her if she had a paper clip, and was like "Um, I dunno." I said "Mind if I look in your drawers?" And then I chuckled. God save me, I couldn't help it. The question was completely innocent until it went from my mouth back in my ears and into my brain, and unfortunately the stupid portion intercepted it and made it funny. BUT SHE LAUGHED! She heard me laugh and she laughed too! So, if she laughs at that, but gets offended at me calling her "woman," that's where I deduce that she's insane. And unfortunately, all of you women are insane by association. Sorry, case closed.

The sad thing about all this is these three things that I learned today I could've learned at any number of other jobs that pay more.

Ladies, I would like to offer you "ass insurance"

Sun, 08 Apr 2007 22:05:29 GMT

Believe it or not, ass insurance sort of exists. Apparently some years ago Jennifer Lopez got some insurance policy for her caboose, through a company that specialized in custom insurance policies. And why not, right? Because everyone knows that if J-Lo's ass were to lose an inch or two, boy, she'd be slung out to the B-Celebrity category so fast her ass would create a sonic boom. Ah, priorities...

That's not the ass insurance I'm offering for ladies now, though. I offer a different kind. See, last night I went out with some friends to this place called Monkey Bar, out in St. Charles. Fun place, not bad. I believe that the waitresses and bartenders could make even a smaller outfit by stringing a couple squares of TP together, but only if it was 1-ply. The dance floor, however, was where I found my entertainment. It was a large square section set aside by being a few feet lower than the rest of the place, surrounded by a low counter that people could stand by with their drink and people-watch. I participated in this activity, and here I developed my idea.

Ladies, you may be at risk and not even know it. When you are on the dance floor, you are vulnerable to many kinds of ass predators. And once an ass predator is determined, it is difficult to free yourself from him. I'm talking about males that one way or another get behind you while your dancing and latch on like a friggin sucker fish. Better defined as "who the hell is this guy? I don't want him dancing on me!" Watching from my high altitude, I could cleary distinguish different types and styles of ass predators. And since half the battle is knowing your enemy, I will share this information with you.

Type 1--The Sidewinder. This ass predator's style is based on the idea that if he is sideways to you, he will remain invisible. Acting nonchalant, he will dance sideways over to you and gradually squeeze in. He believes the side approach is best, because it's not creepy like a from-behind approach, but not as terrifying to him as the up-front approach.

Type 2--The "It's not me, it's you". This predator will seemingly dance in place, but on closer inspection, he actually inches closer and closer to the prey until she bumps into him. If the female moves, he moves too. This technique is based on the idea that if the girl thinks it's her initiative, then it's ok. Hey, I was just dancing here! You invaded my bubble!

Type 3--The Clumsy. Whether actually drunk or not, this predator takes the approach of "Oops, I bumped into you, sorry. but since I'm already up against you, do you mind if I act like my hips are demonically possessed for a second?" Using ploys like acting he's leaving the dance floor or just tripping over his own feet, this predator is easily countered by a solid elbow to the ribs.

Type 4--The Ninja. This predator comes outta nowhere, whether from right behind you, circling around, repelling from the ceiling, you don't know how he got there, but suddenly, he's there. Acting as if it were a checkmate move, the predator assumes the game is over when he's behind you. "I'm here, I won. Now you have to dance with me."

Type 5--The Decoy. Some predators team up to help each other. After all, wingmen fly together. The Decoy predator operates off the teamwork of "you distract her while I approach from behind." Some team-ups are even forced to sandwich the girl between them to prevent her escape.

Any and all of these predators are a threat, so that is why I now extend my offer of ass insurance. Ladies, I, your friend, will dance behind you, so no ass predators will see the window of oppurtunity and move in. With my ass insurance, you'll have the confidence to dance as you will without worrying. It will be my job to stay behind you while acting like I'm just dancing, so all the while ass predators don't have the chance to move in. My policy is free of charge and available to all that request it. I believe that ass insurance is something every girl should have, because ass safety is nothing to risk. God bless.

To any guys smart enough to say "So, you're the Type 6--The Inside Man. You're the ass predator that acts like he's protecting the girl from other ass predators!", don't cockblock me!

P.S. The word "ass" appeared 18 times in this post.

I don't WANNA bend over!!

Sat, 07 Apr 2007 08:25:24 GMT

Last Tuesday I woke up in my usual "I'm teetering right between the tired levels of 'did someone glue all my furniture to my ceiling while I was sleeping' and 'Blarg,'" state when I noticed a slight twinge in my back. Is "twinge" a word? It is when I'm tired, dammit. Now read on. We shall not squabble over such insignificantcies. Are "squabble" and "insignificantcies" words? I hate typing when I have to focus on an object that's a foot in front of me. Anyways, my back felt a little tweeky. I've had these before, these little muscle bubbles that you can tell aren't quite right. But most of them go away. Skip ahead to the end of the day, where the lil' tweeky has grown into a slightly larger, more annoying tweeky. All I did was move my back a little, and suddenly pain shot all up in my crib. That's a tired storyteller's way of saying "Ouch, fucker!" By the way, this sucked, because when it hurts to breath, and you can't find a body position to make it stop, it makes you wanna stop breathing, and what happens when you stop breathing, kids? That's right, your lungs hate you!

Eventually the pain subsided enough to allow me to crawl gingerly into bed, but not before it took my dignity and made me feel like a wonky old geezer. I swear to God, back pain? I'm friggin 25! What the hell, man? Work the next day lost the faceoff, since i couldn't move, much less drive. Finally, the damn thing wore off enough so I could move, and now i'm okay again....Sort of. I can still feel the lil' tweeky in my back, and i've stopped being veeeery self conscious of how I move around. Hopefully, this won't happen again anytime in the next 20 years or so.

EDIT/ By the way, when your back hurts, laughing sucks. Then I sneezed. DON'T DO THAT.

In other news, the Campus bookstore has been hit by a thief! I've named her "Book Bandit", because she goes downstairs, picks textbooks off the shelves, then comes upstairs and has us buy them back from her. Pretty solid plan, oh wait, except for the fact that she came by two days in a row, at the same time, had the same person help her, and used the same books. Whoopsie. Guess they skipped that lesson in Petty Crimes 101. But since she was such a reliable villian, we knew to expect her Thursday. She marched in big as life and tried to do it again. And got caught. Apparently she'd hit UMSL and SLU too. Honestly, do you have nothing better to do with your time? Are you that bored? Seriously, I wanna talk to her, because I keep going over it in my head, and all I can come up with is "you wanted something to do, so you tried to see if you could get caught, on purpose." It can't be about the money! C'MON! You came back three times, and used the same books! You had to know you'd get caught! Overall, I must thank this mystery Book Bandit, because it's her and people like her that make me feel just a little smarter. And when your back is a bitch, it's nice to feel a little smarter.