The Hamster's Wheel

3 fun ways to save money

2006-05-02T12:43:00.000-07:00

As a college student, I'm of course going through the age old struggle of being flat broke. I'm working two jobs and it seems I NEVER have any money. My parents aren't helping me with my tuition so naturally, I'll be coming out of school with an ass load of student loans to pay off. Damn, looks like I'm going to actually go out and try to contribute to society. But until then, I'm just trying to make it by spending as little money as possible. And, since I'm so generous and awesome, I'll share with you all a few helpful hints on how to wheel and deal.

1. Mooch. Quite possibly, mooching off others is the most effective way to save money in college. Make it seem as though you have nothing to contribute. You and your friends are going someplace, DO NOT DRIVE YOUR CAR. Parking far away from your present location is a good excuse to use someone else's car. And don't offer gas money, people will figure out that you've got cash on hand. And if the driver asks you for money, just say you don't have any on you and he'll get it later. Odds are, he'll forget.

2. Working the system. Working the system can get comlicated at times, but it can save you more money than you really know. Take for example, you work at a restaurant. Offer your free meals to employees of another establishment, perhaps a movie theater, in exchange for their employee benefits. Everyone knows that going through the proper channels only attracts attention to actions some bosses might not approve of, so keep everything on the D.L. It's a risk trying to deal with a manager, but if you can find one that's cool, it is more profitable than the employee/employee deals. You'll find that once these transactions have been going on for a while, the market will evolve so that you can get free meals or free movies or anything else free without all the shady back alley deals. You can simply go into the establishment get what you need and leave, assuming the employees who hook you up can do the same.

3. Stealing. Stealing is a great way to save money, and can be fun and exciting as well as rewarding. Although some squares seem to think blatantly stealing is somehow wrong, rationalizing your actions is part of the fun. Instead of saying, "I'm taking the stores products," just think, "I work long hours for the fat cats at the top, making them a lot more money than they give me. I'm just leveling the playing field." And besides, for all the positive work you put in for the job, even the owners would say that taking stuff every now and then is a fair trade. Just don't be an idiot about it and get greedy. After all, this is to help save money, not make money.

The point is, once you're out of college with a real job, you are the system. So taking advantage of it is ripping yourself off. We all know you can't keep up the scams forever, so take this opportunity to get ahead. And really, you're learning to think outside the box and how to use loopholes to your advantage. That's the American way.

Blog Portfolio

2006-05-01T23:38:00.000-07:00

Click here for my blog portfolio. It is a simple website I made. I thought this assignment was a really good way to wrap up the semester, even though this surely isn't the end of the Hamster's Wheel. This portfolio includes my 3 best posts, a review on each of my presentations, a review on my favorite post, some final thoughts and a message board just in case anybody has anything to say. I hope you like it.

My Erotic Blog Post

2006-04-27T12:54:00.000-07:00

Marissa, your comments before class, although somewhat crass, have inspired this post. This is MY EROTIC BLOG POST.

Okay, this is something that has been bothering me ALL SEMESTER. I sit here in the back facing this painting by Georgia O'Keefe called "Grey line with black, blue, and yellow" and I just have to ask: Does anyone else think this painting looks like a gaping vagina??? It creeps me out! Every time I come to class I have this giant snooch staring me down. How am I supposed to blog with something like that going on???

"STEEEEEEVVVVEEEE!!! Acknowledge my presence, or fear my wrath!!!!!"

Good god, this painting is going to destroy my grade. Damn you, Georgia. I kept thinking that O'Keefe's work would kill my grade until I looked over and saw her other painting in class. It's just some flowers. Is it possible my perverted mind just drew this sexual comparison out of nothing? Nope. I looked up other paintings by this pornographer, oops, I mean artist, and found that other paintings of hers bear resemblance to the uhhh...lady-bits.

Try to guess which one wasn't painted by Georgia O'Keefe. Yeah, so pretty much all her paintings have some kind of female genitalia undertone. Or as I like to call it, SMUT.

And what in the hell is this thing?

I'm not EVEN going there.

Or how about the masterpiece "Ice Cave" or Georgia's first working title, "My Crotch on a Very Cold Day"

Brrrrrrr.

These next two winners I thought were the same painting at first. Then I noticed the subtle difference. But why make two paintings so similar? Then, like the brilliant detective I am, I figured out what must be going on here.

Maybe I'm just not "artsy."

I'm going to stop there, but trust me people, they only get worse. I'm sure there's probably some lame artistic explanation like, "She was portraying the miracle of life by exposing the similarities between the growth of a flower and the growth of human life in the womb." Here's my interpretation: "She was showing eveyone that flowers look like noonies." Well congrats, Georgia. You've been able to make money off your sick pleasures, but this is one guy who ain't buying your excuse. One last thought:

How about a little discretion next time?

My second blog presentation

2006-04-26T12:23:00.000-07:00

This is my second blog presentation...IN TWO DAYS! Thanks, Donna.

No, just kidding. For this presentation, I thought I would take you all to the forefront of blogging. The most instantly gratifying way to cover breaking news: Moblogs. Moblogs are blogs that are posted from mobile devices, like cell phones or PDAs. Although this technology has only recently went mainstream, the first internet post from a mobile device was made in 1995 by Steve Mann, professor in the Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering at the University of Toronto. He made this post from a wearable computer. Here is a picture of Mann with this device, I'm NOT MAKING THIS UP:

Looks more like he's preparing to time-travel, not post on the internet. And he bears a striking resemblance to Turbo-Mech, the Tank transformer:

Oh well, thank god we don't live in that age anymore. Now the extent of equipment needed to post to the internet can fit comfortably in your pocket.

And unlike their predecessors, Mobloggers are now able to use their phones to post pictures and video on the internet mere seconds after capture. With all of this technology literally at your fingertips, blogs are leaving conventional news media in the dust. An article from USC Annenberg headlines Moblogs Seen as Crystal Ball in New Era of Online Journalism. Keep in mind this was posted 3 years ago, and Moblogging has only gained popularity since then. Futurist author Howard Rheingold is quoted from his book, Smart Mobs asking, "What if smart mobs could empower entire populations to engage in peer-to-peer journalism? Imagine the power of the Rodney King video multiplied by the power of Napster. ... Putting video cameras and high-speed Net connections in telephones, however, moves blogging into the streets. By the time this book is published, I'm confident that street bloggers will have constructed a worldwide culture." Well, Howard, you were right. Moblogging is more popular today than ever before and as cell phones are becoming ever more powerful, the potential of Moblogs is continuously growing, and no end seems to be in sight. But as we all know: Moblogs, Mo' Problems. This is the extreme in the battle between bloggers and conventional news media. The main complaint of the mainstream news with bloggers has always been with reliabilty. Can you really trust your news when potentially anyone with a computer can post whatever they want, calling it truth with no verification to back it up? After all, Moblogs are usually posted immediately after the fact, and we all know how stories can change, even in professional news. We've all seen a story on the news start out as something and develop over time as more details come out. And moblogs run the risk of posting news with little or no investigation.
Obviously, if you want ROCK SOLID news watch TV or read reliable newspapers. But if you're one of those cutting edge, "gimme-it-now" news people, check the latest moblogs. You'll see news from anywhere, as it happens.

People almost dying is SO funny!

2006-04-25T12:28:00.000-07:00

What is it about people getting hurt that is SO freaking funny? I can't figure it out. It's not just the sight of it, because it's not funny when it's fake, like slapstick comedy is so lame. Like the 3 Stooges? What the hell? How was that ever funny? One guy says something dumb and another guy calls him a "Chowderhead" and hits him on the head. But when somebody slips and bounces down a flight of stairs on their ass, I can't stop laughing. Or when a little kid wants something another kid has so he just jacks the kid in the face and takes it, OH MAN, that cracks me up! And nothing makes me laugh harder than when people on campus fall on their bike! It's too funny! I love going to sites like ebaumsworld and checking out the latest videos, because much of them are people falling or getting racked in the nuts. It's a basic human instinct to enjoy the misfortunes of others. Why do you think Jackass was such a huge success? Because the hosts were charming and witty??? Guess again, it's because we are strangely intrigued by somebody getting beat up. Everyone has a favorite story of their friend getting hurt. Personally, I love it when people almost die on trampolines, or as I like to call them, "Spring-loaded child injury machines." Who ever thought, "Let's give kids an aparatus that flings them several feet into the air, in the hopes that they land on back on it." and how did this thing get past toy safety boards? I've seen recalled items far less dangerous than trampolines. But then, maybe on the Consumer Product Safety Commission has the same sense of humor I do. It would be a shame to miss out on your friend flying off the side and into mud. That's funny. I think trampolines are actually helping society. Think of evolution and the theory of natural selection. Those less fitted for survival die off, eliminating chance of reproduction, so only the best at surviving pass on their genes. So when some moron tries to do a double backflip off a trampoline and ends up doing a one and a quarter, it's actually good for the species. My family has had a trampoline since I was little. I did all the flips and cartwheels and whatever stunts you can think of, but I never once got hurt. No one has ever gotten seriously injured on our trampoline, even when we had like four kids bouncing around at one time. And ours is old school too, none of these walls of netting and padding that go around trampolines today. We don't even have a pad over the springs. Once, when my parents weren't home, my brother and I pushed the trampoline over to the side of the house and I jumped off the roof onto it. It was a huge rush, and I knew how to control myself, so all that happened was I bounced incredibly high, and then I stopped myself the next time I landed. Could I have gotten hurt? Of course. Did I? No. Would it have been funny as hell if I had? OH YEAH!

My Blog Presentation

2006-04-24T11:44:00.000-07:00

I have to admit, I'm not the most computer literate person but even I can do this. For this presentation, I'm going to show you how to make a photo album for your blog. There are a few you can use, some you have to pay and some are free. Some options are
Kodakgallery
Smugmug
Shutterfly
Fotki
I like Fotki best, it's free and really easy. So, if you ever want to make a photo album for your blog go to Fotki and click join now on the right side of the screen. From there, you just follow the standard signup instructions and once you've logged in, you're ready to start uploading photos. It's pretty self explanatory and a great way to show your friends and family your favorite photos in a convenient form.

I made my first album yesterday with some photos I collected from emails from my family. Once you've got the album all ready, you can make a post with a nice little introduction and post a link to the slideshow.

7 reasons why Bruce Lee kicked ass

2006-04-20T12:05:00.000-07:00

This is the last thing you will see before you crap your pants and die.

God, I wish Bruce Lee was still around. And before I get comments about any significance of Jackie Chan or his monkeyish successor, Jet Li, let me just say that Bruce Lee could punch both of those circus acrobats right out of show business. So as we can all agree that Bruce Lee is the only notable Asian ever in action movies, or really the only one in any kind of multinational entertainment, let's examine reasons why Bruce Lee kicked ass.

1. His nickname is "The Dragon." Bruce Lee is the only person in the history of human existence cool enough to pull off such a nickname. Other action heroes could only dream of such badassity, such as Arnold Schwarzeneggar mockingly known as "the Governator" or Sylvestor Stallone known as "the douchebag that made Judge Dread."

2. His stunts have become legendary. He once side-kicked a 150 lb. punching bag in half. And he also did one-handed pushups using only two fingers. Don't believe me? It has since gone down as legend, but check the facts. It happened. He could have just as well kicked you in half, and then thrown Jean Claude Van Damme through a car windshield.

3. You can actually understand him when he talks.
"EET'S NOT AH TOO-MUH!" -Arnold Schwarzeneggar, Kindergarden Cop
"Well, den yeh gan tell Bai-zon det I'm cah-ming fer heem." -Jean Claude Van Damme, Street Fighter
"Ceh-na you onner stan deh wuds det ah coming out of my mouf?" -Jackie Chan, Rush Hour
"I weew be deh wahn." -Jet Li, The One
And Vin Diesel's obvious attempts to conjure up an image of manliness lead him to speak in such low octaves that dialogue can only be discerned with the use of a seismograph. Is it really that difficult for Hollywood to find someone who can fight and talk? Is there no one out there who can do this? There was, Bruce Lee.

4. He made martial arts cool. I don't know about you guys, but when I think of martial arts I think of nerdy little twerps in karate outfits grunting in a gym, oh sorry I mean "Dojo", for some Asian immigrant who figured out that ignorant Americans will pay good money to any Asian for karate lessons. Never mind that three weeks ago the guy was cutting off fish heads in Hong Kong. But Bruce Lee could do martial arts with such fury, and at the same time such grace, that it made Kung Fu something other than what 10 year old geeks try to learn to stop the daily ass-whippings from schoolyard bullies. Face it, when Bruce Lee twirls nunchuks, you want to see how much more amazing he can be. When little Scotty twirls nunchucks, you want to see him crack his skull open.

5. Bruce Lee doesn't need people making up random ridiculous facts about him to proclaim his greatness. His films and life's work speak for themselves. So while Chuck Norris has supposedly roundhouse kicked someone into another dimension, Bruce Lee really has knocked out a man with a 1 inch punch (a blow with no draw-back, just holding the fist one inch away from the target). Chuck Norris isn't good enough to stand in the same fighting-ring as Bruce Lee, which is lucky for Chuck since anyone who ever stepped in the ring with Bruce Lee was rendered unable to bear children for life.

6. He was a real life David vs. Goliath. Bruce Lee defied all expectations and excelled at whatever he put his mind to. Keep in mind, he was tiny, only 5'7" 135 lbs. but he wasn't afraid to fight ANYBODY. Not only did Bruce Lee defeat opponents towering over him in REAL, UNSTAGED martial arts tournaments, but he overcame the long-standing stereotype that Asian men at that time were expected to be meek, polite house servants, and instead exploded into the film industry as a an action hero with the most electrifying fight scenes to ever appear on screen. And unlike David, Bruce Lee doesn't decapitate his victims. Bruce Lee leaves them to rot as they lay, as they are unworthy of the effort it would take to disgrace them.

7. All of his movies revolve around him kicking people's asses. No campy filler about saving the world, or something lame like that. His last movie, "Game of Death" is about a treasure at the top of a pagoda. Fight your way to the top and get the treasure. Simple as that, now let's go. See? It makes for a great movie. Not only that but he beats the crap out of Karim Abdul Jabir at the end. Thank god somebody got around to knocking that oaf out. But seriously, I don't care if the only hope is Keanu Reeves saving the planet from ultimate destruction. Bruce Lee's take on movies was: This guy is bad so I'll destroy him. They just don't make Kung Fu movies like they used to. Here's to you, Bruce. I hope that one day, we'll meet in heaven. And you'll kick my ass.

Bruce Lee is all that is MAN.

Being alive is linked to cancer!

2006-04-13T12:06:00.000-07:00

After my last post, I started thinking about the dangers of being a redhead. Since Spring has really started and the sun has come out, I got a slight sunburn playing frisbee the other day. Maybe I should be continuously wearing sunscreen once April begins, because redheads are more likely to develop skin cancer. But then I started thinking about how EVERYTHING gives you cancer. You stand out in the sun too long. Oops! You got cancer. You talk on a cell phone. Whoops, that's gonna need some chemo! Seriously, I searched for "linked to cancer" and found these results:
Protein linked to cancer
Uneven breasts linked to cancer
Soft Drinks linked to cancer
Cell phone linked to cancer
Plastics linked to cancer, AND as a double whammy, linked to genital abnormalities
Severe arthritis linked to cancer
Mental health linked to cancer
Living in cages linked to cancer (So, seriously, don't live in a cage. You'll get cancer.)
Deodorant linked to cancer
Milk linked to cancer
Low cholesterol linked to cancer Talk about damned if you do and damned if you don't!
Pain killers linked to cancer
Water treatment linked to cancer
Oral sex linked to cancer
MicroRNAs linked to cancer
MicroRNAs? What the hell? I don't even know what that is to avoid it. And oral sex gives you cancer? Screw that, I think I'll take my chances. Oh, and pain killers give you cancer! Doesn't that mean that if you have cancer the pain killers make it worse? I half expected to find that I'm somehow giving myself cancer right now. Latest headline: SCIENCE DISCOVERS THAT AIR IS LINKED TO CANCER! Uh oh, this just in: SCIENCE DISCOVERS THAT STUDYING CANCER IS LINKED TO CANCER! There's no escape!!! Oh, forget it. We're all gonna get cancer. So for all you lucky pigmented people out there, get a tan. You might as well look good while you still can. Because when you're old and wrinkled from all the tanning, with one boob or one ball from the resulting cancer, you can look back at pictures of yourself on the beach and think, "Damn, I was sexy!"

Sadly, this little girl contracted cancer from exposure to dog saliva and died.

Hey, Red!

2006-04-11T13:59:00.000-07:00

I'm a ginger kid. I'm a pale-skinned, freckled, blue-eyed, ginger kid. Always have been, always will be. I don't even think about it, really. But I've noticed that for other people, it defines me. Why? My hair is red, so what? Apparently, there is A LOT that goes with it. Some people with red hair feel a lot of different emotions about it. Some love their ginger locks, while other detest it. According to a study done by researchers at the University of Northern Iowa, red headed men rate on average less attractive than all other types and ethnicities. And a vast majority of expectant parents said that they desired red hair least of all other types for their children. Great, now I gotta rely on my charm and charisma to get girls... Well that's hopeless. Oh well, marriage and families, and happiness in general is overrated. I started thinking about this when I happened across fan club for redheads. A fan club? What is this fascination of red hair that blondes and brunettes have? I know a lot of the members are redheads who love their hair. But it's just hair color! I guess it has something to do with how rare it is. Less than 4% of the world has naturally red hair, and less than 2% in America. The largest concentration of red hair is in Ireland, at 13%, next Scotland with 10%. As such a rare occurance, there has been a lot of myths about red heads. Why is that redheads are expected to be excitable and short-tempered? Is it just the symbolism of fire and anger? Our society has placed some standards on red heads. Here's a few interesting facts from the past:

In Greek mythology, redheads turn into vampires when they die.
In the 16th century, fat of a redheaded man was an ingredient for poison.
During the Spanish Inquisition, redheads were assumed to have stolen fire from hell, and were executed.
Women with red hair were commonly accused of being witches during the time of the Salem Witch Trials.
At St. Paul's Cathedral in London, paintings of Adam and Eve tell the story of the Original Sin. In the beginning, Eve's hair is blonde. After the sin is committed, Eve's hair has turned red.
Adolf Hitler banned the marriage of two redheads for fear that their children would be "deviant offspring."

Wow, I'm glad I didn't live back then. Now the only thing I have to put up with is random old people feeling the need to excitedly greet me wherever I go with, "Hey, Red!" And you know, there are a lot of beneficial aspects of being a carrot-top.

Red hair doesn't turn gray, it turns a sandy color. Red heads also usually don't go bald with age.
It has been proven that people seeing red hair have increased metabolism, heart rate, and respiration. So I guess you should marry a redhead. It's healthier.
For some reason, red headed people are harder to sedate than all other types. A 2002 study showed that redheads require 20% more anesthesia.
Redheads usually have better vision and sense of smell, with worse hearing. Blondes and brunettes have been found to have no tendency towards increases or decreases in any of the senses.
True story: My redheaded little sister, Maureen, went to the St. Louis Zoo with my mom. They went to the Orangutan habitat and found tons of kids shouting at the lazy, oblivious orangtuan behind the glass. My sister got up to the glass, not shouting or waving or jumping around, and the Orangutan noticed her, got up, and walked over to the glass face-to-face with Maureen. She put her hand on the glass, and the orangutan did the same!

I'm not making this stuff up, people. So basically, I'm a short tempered, less-attractive witch, whose fat is poison and commited the Original Sin after stealing fire from hell, and I don't have to worry about grey hair or baldness, while seeing you and smelling you better but I can't hear you, who would produce deviant offspring with another redhead. Oh yeah, and I'm going to become a vampire when I die. Whatever, I have red hair, no big deal. Just give me some SPF 45 sunblock, and I'll be fine.

My Crusade

2006-04-05T19:18:00.000-07:00

Hwæt! Birds fear me. My entire life, I've been engaged in a constant battle with birds of all kinds. Seagulls, Crows, Woodpeckers, I've taken them all on and emerged victorious each and every time. So far, the war has been held at a stalemate. After every feathered fiend I destroy comes a new, greater threat. I had begun to think that I was only delaying the inevitable; that there could be no end, no chance for peace. That is, until last September when the tides turned in my favor. One fateful Saturday night, I was attacked by a force the likes of which had never been seen. And because I believed in myself, shall never be seen again. At some point in the night, I had found a large wooden staff in the ground and took it with me. Maybe it was the staff that found me but nevertheless, destiny brought us together. Although my friends thought nothing of it, I knew in my heart that this night would be one to remember. We arrived back to our parking garage sometime around 3 in the morning. Here, in this concrete temple, a legendary battle ensued. As we walked unsuspectingly to the stairs, a beast suddenly attacked. The beast was none other than my arch nemesis, the pigeon. This creature was massive, I tell you. Its feathers ruffled, its talons sharp, and its beak extending from its twisted head, pointing at me, silently saying, "You're going to die tonight." Taken with fear, I looked around for some saving grace. There, still in my clutches, was the staff I had found earlier. But it wasn't enough. A simple wooden rod could never take down such a monster. And then I realized, the power that would destroy this bird is not the staff in my hands, but the hands themselves. I knew if I were to triumph, it would be through my own strength, my own intellect, my own courage. Our eyes met. My friends, the bird, and myself all knew that I had finally met my match. Then, it happened. My foe took flight and surged right at me. In a perfect convergence of body and mind, I harnessed my skills of war and thrust my staff into the breast of the beast! It fell to the ground, lifeless. I had defeated the monster in one fell swoop. My friends returned to my side and we walked back to my room. There was a common realization among us that the dead bird really hadn't been my match. It was just another of my countless fallen enemies. No one spoke, as we were still in a bit of shock at what we had just witnessed. I continue my crusade against the villains of the sky, and the staff rests in my room to this day.

It rests, but for how long?

The school year is 6 weeks too long

2006-04-04T14:12:00.000-07:00

I have a complex where every year on my birthday I get into this rut where I just don't want to do anything for school. Don't want to open a book, or write a paper, or sit through classes. I just want to go camping. I love camping. Every year, my whole family goes to Meramec State Park in Sullivan, MO and stays there for about 10 days or so. This is something I look forward to all year. Seriously, on the ride home from camping I think, "Man, I can't wait to go camping next year." It's not a bother until my birthday. Every year, after March 24, for some reason I lose all motivation for school. I'll do just enough to keep the grades I have been earning so far. There is never an improvement. I know that this year camping is going to be amazing. Last summer was the funnest to date, and I have a feeling this year is going to be even better. Now when I tell people what camping is like, they usually think it sounds boring. Basically, every day is the same. Every day, my cousin and I:
1. Get up and eat breakfast
2. Float down the river
3. Eat lunch
4. Float down the river
5. Eat dinner
6. Float down the river
7. Hang out by the river until the sun goes down
8. Drink!
9. Go to bed as the sun comes up, ready to do it all over again the next day.
You may think that sounds monotonous and boring, but it NEVER is. Although every day is basically the same, SO MUCH random and funny stuff happens along the way that it never gets old. You meet the craziest people on the river, and there's no telling what you might see. And at night, the park becomes a totally different place! You meet some interesting folks out at the latest hours of the night. We've met a group of travelors who do nothing but smoke pot and camp at different parks around the country. We've met a professional fire twirler who put on a twirling show for us. We've met a 300+ lb. woman who tried to beat up one of my cousins after he mooned her (Well, she could've been trying to eat him, I'm still not sure). A pastor chased us with a Bible after some of his Catholic youth group girls snuck out to the beach with us. We appeared on a pirated radio station some guy was broadcasting out of his truck. And last year, I talked two 16 year old girls into jumping off a cliff into the river...NAKED. (Should I have gone to jail for that?) And the memories go on. I've been going there every year since I was a baby, so you can see how that place has become such an important place in my life. And that's why I can't wait to go back this year, and why I wish the school year had ended a week ago.

My Last Day as a Punk

2006-03-23T16:43:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow I turn the big 2-0. That means that today is my last day alive as a no good, punk teenager. It finally hit me today. I've been a teenager for the past 7 years, and in 6 hours, those wonderful days are officially behind me. I'm not really sure how I feel about it. Because on one hand, I LOVED my teenage years. 90% of my fondest memories come from this time. And it felt so cool to get crazy and do bad stuff (use your imaginations, people). Because you know, I'm a teenage guy and I'm up to no good. That really was the mindset. Now when I get wild it'll be like, shouldn't I be figuring out what I want to do with my life? Because really, I don't know. 20 years have gone by, and all I have to show for it are some scars, chest hair, and a high school diploma. Now it's not like I'm upset. I know my life hasn't peaked, and I'm looking forward to the future. Getting out of college and taking on the real world is so daunting, but if there's one thing I love, it's bringing out my absolute best and rising to meet challenges. But Spring Break is upon us, and I'm going to take this time to forget about working towards my future and indulge in the instantly-gratifying pleasures that life has to offer. Because tomorrow is my birthday. What a way to start the break! And since I'm the only one of my buddies from back home who went away to college, I know they are going to have a party waiting for me, with the beers cold and the ladies hot. So as I look back at the past 7 years I think it's appropriate to send them off in a blaze of glory. I'm the last of my friends to turn 20, so a hard night of partying as my friends and I become drunken valkyries will send our teenage days out into Valhalla, the land of eternity. And then the next morning we'll return to earth, where there will be much suffering and gnashing of teeth...well, really more like groaning and barfing, but you get the symbolism. But don't expect any wise words from me directed toward any teens out there reading this. I'm not going to act like I discovered the meaning of growing up, because for one, I haven't finished growing up, and second, I spent most of my teenage days living for the moment and never paid attention to the lessons I could've learned. I guess the only thing I really learned is that I wouldn't change a thing. I hope everyone else has learned this too. So here it is, my last act as a punk teen:
Professor Strickland, this one's for you!

Kiss me, I'm Irish and I'm sick of your shit

2006-03-21T13:32:00.000-08:00

"I've been a wild rover for many's the year.
And I spent all me money on whiskey and beer.
And when I'm returning with golden great store,
I NEVER will play the wild rover no more."

Lyrics of an old Irish song, which has been around for God knows how long, and has been redone and reworked by countless ensembles, and will surely be around for many more years. This song has had a special meaning in my life. I've known it since I was little, but it has really started to come to life in my teenage years. This song is what I promise myself pretty much every St. Patrick's day since I was 12. Another St. Patrick's Day has come and gone and let me say, I will never get that crazy again. I know what you're thinking, "You just said you promise that every year." But I really mean it this time. I put up one hell of a fight, but St. Patrick kicked my ass again this year. I love St. Patrick's Day. It's the one day of the year where people are honored for being a foul-mouthed, drunk, womanizer. And for me, as no different from years passed, I embraced this honor.

March 17, 2006
Midnight: Pinched the SHIT out of my roommate for not wearing green.
1:00 am: Went to bed
9:00 am: Went to class
Noon: Went to class
1:oo pm: Cracked open the first, of many, beers
2:oo pm - 5:00 pm: Steady drinking with friends
5:00 pm: Enjoy a nice meal
5:30 pm: Back to the bottle
9:00 pm: Go out to a party with friends
9:00 pm - 3:00 am: Steady drinking, bad dancing, worse singing, surprisingly good flirting
3:00 am: Take the last shot of the night. Go to bed
It was a great day, although it was exactly like all other years (Except nobody got into a fight, fortunately). The next morning was not so great. Huge quantities of beer will make you sick the next morning, but huge quantities of green dye in the beer will make you wish you weren't born. However, morning vomit is much more pleasant when it's a bright festive green. All in all, I payed for my St. Patrick's Day, with my hangover, and with my now-empty wallet, and next year, I'll be sure to chill out a little. But even though I indulged in the stereotypical festivities of St. Patrick's Day, I still didn't abandon what the day is all about. St. Patrick's Day is important, not really so much for the saint, but for the country he represents. St. Pat's is a celebration of Ireland.
First of all, both sides of my family are Irish. NOT posers who wear shirts that say "Everyone loves and Irish girl" or "Irish guys do it better" year round. We're an Irish family. Yeah, we're proud of that, but I'm not going to be like, "Look at me. I'm Irish so that means I'm a rough scrapper from the mean streets of Cork. I identify with my downtrodden Irish brethren, and have experienced the harsh times in the land of my forefathers." The truth is, those kids who wear "Republic of Ireland" shirts or get shamrock tattoos are most likely half Irish or less, but wish they had the street cred. Now I'm not just hating, because I acknowledge that I have no street cred, but that's because our Irish ancestors endured the strife SO THAT WE DON'T HAVE TO!!! What a slap in the face for those who struggled so that we can live a better life. I'm declaring that I'm an American, with strong Irish roots, and I live a comfortable life, with every opportunity in that life, and I have never encountered prejudice because of my family's ethnicity. And for that I thank the millions of people who came from the land where they were persecuted only for their religion and nationality, to a country where they met parallel discrimination and faced the hardship, and have throroughly overcame all obstacles. The Irish have done it. They have made it in America. And that success, along with thanking St. Patrick for bringing to us the religion of Christ, is what St. Patrick's Day is all about.

So it's not just an EXCUSE to get drunk, but rather an opportunity to take pride in your roots, or to cheer on the country's honor, and celebrate in the appropriate Irish fashion. So drop the act, kids. You're one step below wrapping yourself in a green, white, and orange flag and doing a jig. Stop thinking you're a bare-knuckle boxer, don't call yourself a Mick, and don't flood your facebook profile with a schmillion Irish proverbs. Be proud of your heritage, but let's not go overboard.

Getting the digits

2006-03-16T12:57:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago, I was at a party. It was a prett big party, and I had stolen a cup for the keg, as always, and I went upstairs to see a pretty blonde girl sitting on a couch alone. Surely, she must be waiting for someone to come back, I thought, there's an open spot RIGHT next to her. But I'm not one to pass on opportunity, so I took the seat. We started talking, at first just the polite crap. You know, the name, go to school at Mizzou?, what year are you?, just the normal stuff to get it out of the way. We keep talking and she's cool. She laughs at my jokes and seems genuinely interested in what I have to say, and she has a lot to say herself. At one point, she says "I like you. Let me give you my number before I get too drunk and forget." And she writes her number on my arm. I'm totally pumped. Really, I thought it might be going somewhere. Well it might have, until she said something like, "you said you're a second year, right?" I'm like, yeah. She says, "So a sophomore?" And I say, "well I just say second year so there's no confusion, because you know those losers who are like, I'm a sophomore, but really they are freshman just a sophomore by credits?" so she's like, "Ohhh, you're like a junior by credits?" and I say, "yeah, but whatever." I'm trying to dismiss it, as to try and be a little humble about it. Because it's really not a big deal at all anyway. But she says, "Ohhh, so you're a big smarty, aren't ya?" "No, it's nothing really." And she asks, "What's the capital of Norway?" "Oslo," I answer, just coincidentally I actually know European capitals really well. She's like, "Oh my God, that's the only capital I know and you just knew it off the top of your head???" "I guess," I said and just laughed. Then what she says next reveals the true ditz that has been subtley hinted at all night. What she says next totally turns me off and makes me want to get the hell out of there. She stops and thinks and then says:
"That's cool that you're smart because......being smart is cool."
In my head: "That's cool that you're smart because being smart is cool? Are you kidding me? Wow, that might be the least insightful thing anyone's ever had to stop and think about. Jesus, that was really dumb. Crap, now I've got her number on my arm, and she's waiting for me to say something. I gotta get the hell outta here. Think, Steve!"
So I pull out the best of my mental ability, and in my infinite cleverness and finesse, I said, "I'll be right back." And I got out of the house and did not look back. And I never saw that beautiful bimbo ever again. (KNOCK ON WOOD)

FACEBOOK CONSPIRACY DISCOVERED

2006-03-14T12:32:00.000-08:00

ATTENION FACEBOOK MEMBERS:

My older brother recently uncovered a facebook conspiracy. The other day, a girl named Claire Marshall added my brother Andy as a friend. He had no idea who the girl was. He confirmed the request and checked out her profile. She was an alumnus from WashU, and said she had just moved to the Chicago area. Her picture was of three girls with cowboy hats with her sorority letters on them, holding beers. A pretty standard picture, like every sorority chick has a million pictures exactly like that. But she has no other pictures, and I challenge anyone to find ONE sorority girl who doesn't have other pictures on facebook! The girl had not listed her birthday, which is weird because everyone knows that girls are ravenous fiends for birthday-wishes on their birthday, whose hunger for "happy birthdays" is never satisfied. But whatever, we continue with our investigation. Her interests were SO generic; shopping, partying with friends, movies, and music. Sounds to me like some old person's feeble attempt to describe what "the kids these days" are into. She describes herself as a workaholic (a word I HATE, because what the hell is workahol???) and says she is into Consulting. How vague, like anyone really knows what consulting entails anyway. But then, things really got interesting. All of her wall posts were from people writing things like, "Hey Claire. Have we met?" and "Sorry, but I can't remember ever meeting you." And she doesn't have a bunch of friends from WashU, but rather a selection of kids from all over the country. So my brother looks up the WashU student directory, which includes recent alumni, and she wasn't on it. But what could be going on here? Here's a theory. Claire Marshall is really a marketing firm. Think about it! So much of your marketing research is already done for you. It's all there: Your sex, age, race, religion, geographic location, interests, likes and dislikes, level of education, area of study, and all the information about target demographics that would make marketers skeet skeet their pants! And it's all written up, in a neat little report, ready to analyze. So I'm going to continue looking into this little miss Claire Marshall, but until then heed this warning. The Man is on facebook, and he's using you to further his agenda of corporate domination. So don't confirm anyone to friends that you don't know, or delete anyone who you've already confirmed. The suits are out there, and they'll do whatever it takes to get what they want. Nothing is sacred to them. Stand with me, people. The one thing they can't take is our resolve to NOT be taken advantage of.

Defending My Title

2006-03-14T12:01:00.000-08:00

A response to Donna's comment:

Thanks for the comment, Miss Strickland. I've been told many times by friends that my life is really random, that the weirdest things happen to me. It's hard for me to argue, because this is the only life I've known, and it's always been this way. The comment made was that, as my life is unpredictable, I should rethink the metaphor in my title because a hamster's wheel doesn't go anywhere. But what is the purpose of a hamster's wheel? And what is the purpose of my blog? One common answer: It's just something to do. I understand that this blog isn't going to change the world, and that your life won't be any different if you discover the philosophy of Waldo, or read about my Pigpennish lifestyle. But that's what I want this blog to be. I don't want it to go anywhere, because it's just about random thoughts or occurances. If perhaps I were making a blog about politics or the entire state of mankind, maybe I would want to represent it wth something more directional than a wheel that goes nowhere. But this is a blog about the often unappreciated pleasure of nothingness, and seemingly nothingness in day to day life is something to which I think we can all relate. Want to kill some time? Have a go on the Hamster's Wheel.

Gehry's fish

2006-03-09T12:39:00.000-08:00

The image that has been a recurrance in my life, in the way that the fish was for Frank Gehry, is the river. The area where I live is called unincorporated Jefferson county. It sucks when people ask where I'm from because I can never just say the name. I don't even live in a town. Basically, I live out in the woods, and if there's one thing about me which I'll never be able to escape, it's this: I am a river rat. I LOVE rivers. Rivers have always been in my life, and I can't imagine life without them. The river has been an force to enjoy, to respect, to fear, and to love. Many of my most memorable experiences in life revolve around the linear flow of water. I spent much of my chilhood at my grandma's house, which is right on the banks of a river, creatively named "the Big River." It's slow and muddy and would probably give the EPA a heart attack if they ever tested it. But whatever, my cousins and I all swam in it. I can remember spending countless hours watching the river go by. When the flood of '93 hit, I loved sitting and watching all the random junk floating by. Chairs, doors, a barbecue grill, a refridgerator, boats, once even a small house, were all things I watched the flood drag down the river. The devastation in the towns was shocking. When I was 5 I almost drowned in the Big River. Near our house is an old mill that no longer operates. The big water wheel is still there, and it's great to swim right above the dam. One day I was swimming there with my family and I stepped into a drop off and couldn't swim well enough to get back up. I distinctly remember looking around and seeing fish swim by as I desperately struggled for the surface. Then my mom saw my hand pop up and she grabbed it and saved me. Thanks, mama. But I never forgot how the river nearly took my life. Another important place in my life is Meramec State Park in Sullivan, Missouri. I go there every summer with my family and camp. The main attraction is the river. I have spent more time on this river than I have any other body of water. I know stretches of it by heart, where there are cool caves, and frigid springs, great cliffs to get your kicks jumping off, and not to brag but seriously, I know miles of it. It such a great place. In one trip down the river you can see huge gar swimming in the shallow currents, find random objects along the bottom, watch a blue heron snatching fish, swing off from rope swings, and there's a good chance you'll spot a few boobs along the way. And it's not just everything that comes with the river, the river itself is beautiful. My cousins and I spend hours sitting on the beach at night, just tossing rocks and talking about everything. The river is calm at night, except when you spot a lone deer bravely fording the river. It's such an ever changing force. It can playfully carry you along in an inner tube, or violently rise up and wipe out houses and cars. I've been on many rivers and although they are all basically alike, they are also very different. Each river has a unique personality, be it fast and swirling, or slow and flat, deep or shallow, narrow or wide, muddy or clear, warm or cold. There are so many aspects that make a river unique. And in this way I see that in people. We may all be basically alike, but everyone is unique. I've spent my life on these flowing channels, and I plan to spend the rest of it there.

The Big River in House Springs, MO.

The SWEETest 8 bucks I ever made

2006-03-09T12:02:00.000-08:00

The best 8 bucks I've ever made: After a good solid night of drinking, last Saturday, or technically Sunday, at like 4:30 in the morning, 7 friends and I decided to go to the Diner on Broadway. First of all, that place kicks ass. It's small and loud, and they have business hours of Midnight to 6 A.M. on weekends. They have literally forgone normal customers and cater directly to drunk college kids. They serve breakfast food any time, and it's really cheap! We walk in at this ungodly hour and the place is packed! I definately recommend the Diner to everyone when your party dies and you're not quite ready to go home. Anyway, I got a burger and hash browns, which DEFINATELY hits the spot when you're sobering up. Then when the bill comes, one of my friends offers to pay for my meal if I chug the bottle of maple syrup on our table. As a side note, here's an interesting fact about me: I have morals and principles, but immediately throw them away when money is offered. Basically, my dignity is for sale. So obviously, I threw that whole bottle back and chugged that shit. It was a lot harder than I thought, being so thick and slow going down. But I finished it, to the cheers of both my friends and strangers alike. After that, I got a MAJOR sugar rush. And our waitress was less than amused. I was up for another 2 hours just on sugar, and then in 10 minutes I just CRASHED. It was like I ran out of fuel and just shut down. I woke up the next day with all of my clothes on, sitting in a chair at a computer. There it is, the best 8 bucks I ever made.

Columbia Steamroom Massacre

2006-03-08T10:20:00.000-08:00

HOLY CRAP! Monday I had quite an interesting day at work. I work at the MU Rec Center, down at the equipment desk. It's really easy, I just sit around and check out towels and basketballs or whatever. Every day is pretty much the same....except Monday. I'm standing behind the desk, everything is going along like clockwork, when this Asian guy, I'd guess in his early 20's(but who really knows since Asian people don't age), comes up to me and says in broken English, "You have first aid?" And I'm like, "yeah, what's up?" and I get out the first aid kit. He says, "My finger is uhh...bleeding" so I'm like okay let me see. The man kind of falls on the counter and points to his foot. Hmm, he must mean his toe. I lean over the desk and look down to see he is standing in a pool of blood! I'm like "Oh my God." and call on the radio, "I need a supervisor to the equipment desk now." So I jump over the counter and grab a wheelchair for the guy to sit in. I put on latex gloves and start to check out this guys bloody mess of a foot. I wipe away much of the blood to see that he has badly split his skin between his pinky toe and the next one. I apply the proper medicine to the cut and apply a tourniquet but it just keeps bleeding, and has now gotten ALL over my gloves and steadily dribbling to the floor. My supervisor arrives and sees the mess, and comes to my rescue. He takes over and wraps the foot as best he can, although I think the guy needed stitches. I turn around to see a trail of blood leading from the locker room so I get new gloves on and get the blood cleaner. I clean up the trail from the locker room, but it keeps going. So I clean up the trail through the locker room, but it keeps going. I clean up the trail down the hallway to the pool, BUT IT KEEPS GOING! It led all the way to the steamroom, which is where he sustained his injury. Apparently he opened the door really hard and smashed it into his foot, tearing it open. What I can't figure out is why he didn't say anything to the lifeguards or anyone, he just made the very LONG walk to the equipment desk, leaving behind him a steady crimson river. Well in all it took me a good hour to clean up, and the guy went home, refusing serious medical attention. So listen to me: FOR YOUR SAFETY, BE CAREFUL WHEN YOU OPEN A DOOR. Because if I have to clean up a bloody mess like that again, I'll kill you.

Relating to Peanuts

2006-03-07T12:02:00.000-08:00

Dear Everybody,
I've come to a realization that I really identify with the Peanuts character, Pigpen. Remember that kid, with the scraggly hair and covered in filth? He wore old dirty clothes and actually spread his nastiness in a big cloud of dirt and hair and whatever else. Yeah, that's me. (You can find out which Peanuts kid you're most like with a fun quiz)I realized this on my own with assistance from my roommate, John J. Cleanfreak, who has been most helpful in pointing out my dirtball qualities. But Pigpen was not just some dirtball. He was a good person. He is smart and nice, and he is happily dirty. Pigpen sees past appearances and focuses on more important things. He's dirty, but not unsanitary, as he makes it a point to always keep clean hands. So maybe I don't shower every day, or maybe I wear the same clothes for days, and maybe I shed more body hair than a person should, but I like me. And I don't think I should have to adhere to society's standards. I have my own. You don't have to bathe every day just because everyone says you should. I shower whenever I think I need to. And I don't know about you guys, but I hate doing laundry, it costs MONEY, and nobody notices when you wear the same clothes. So what's the diff? And anyway, as humans, we live on the dirt. We touch it, and it sticks to us, naturally. Who am I to disrupt nature? It's not like dirt on your skin will kill you. Besides, as Pigpen said nobly, perhaps this is the dust of ancient civilizations.

To be totally honest, an overwhelming majority of people have actually responded positively. I wasn't sure about coming public with my "dirty" lifestyle, because my roommate constantly complains about it. But it's not that I stink, he really is a crazy germophobe(He's bad, I'll discuss it in another post, it's HILARIOUS) but I made a small comment on Facebook, and I got a huge response from people. They love it. It doesn't gross people out, they think it's funny or cool.
"You're a grade A creep with your pigpen speech, but it made me laugh."
-Erin Lakin (long time friend of mine)
"Oh, Steve. I'm encouraging you!"
-Lori McLaughlin (former co-worker)
"Steve, you furry little dirtball. Let's go live in a sty together!"
-Tanya Finners (a friend I met on vacation)
Most people have been supportive, and have actually come forward with their own testimonies. You'd be surprised how dirty we all are.

"Being dirty is practical. I'm never bothered by girls or mosquitos."
-Pigpen

The establishment needs to STEP OFF!

2006-03-02T11:59:00.001-08:00

Amy had a really great presentation today about teens and blogging. It actually got me thinking. And I've come to a conclusion. The establishment needs to shut the hell up and get out my bidniss! What I want to do with my free time is up to me. Your school is just an establishment of education. They shouldn't have any kind of authority over students when they're not at school. Sure, if students are committing crimes during school or on school premises, then you should get in trouble. But when I'm not at school, my life's got nothing to do with teachers or principals. I hear about kids getting in trouble for stuff they put on facebook. I've never actually heard of Mizzou students getting in real trouble, so who knows. But nevertheless, there seems to be some danger about what you can post on the internet. It is really holding back the potential of these internet communities. IT SUCKS! I'd love to read about my friend's narrow escape from the law or see pictures of kids rushing the field, but no. Big Brother is on facebook, and kids are too scared to post the good stuff. Seriously, it's just kids being kids. And it's not like the crimes shown can be prevented, it's already over with. Just face facts, Mr. Police-man, I drank and stormed Faurot Field, and got away with it. Just take the loss and move on. You know, even now, I could be taking a risk putting this out on the web for the general public to read. But your facebook or myspace profile or a personal blog is your personal property, with which I have a right to privacy and to do with what I will, and schools need to respect that. Well it hasn't lashed out against me personally, and kids who post pictures of themselves bonging beers or chugging a big bottle of liquor look like TOTAL TOOLS anyway (We get it, you party. Stop trying so hard, D-bag), but it really is the principle of the matter. It's like, you're my teacher, not my mom or the police. So piss off, I'm not a threat to your school. Internet posts don't reflect the quality of a school's education. I'm sure a parent will look at facebook profiles of Mizzou students and say, "Oh no, I'm not sending my kid there." Yeah freakin' right. Number one, cracking down on internet posts showing underage kids drinking or talking about parties has NO effect on the actual occurance of underage drinking. Number two, Mizzou is a school. They shouldn't feel the need to enforce the laws and punish their students for breaking them. We already have a system set up for that, it's called the police force. So stop overstepping your boundaries, Mizzou, and try focusing on what you're there for in the first place: education. How about directing some resources away from the Gestapo project, and working to improve the university? You know, lowering tuition maybe or improving the school athletics department, just something that might invite more students to come here. I'm sure this is a typical conversation in the Dean's office.

Advisor: Mr. Dean of Students, there's a huge problem we need to discuss.
Dean: Crap, it's not that whole tuition hike thing again, is it? I'm so sick of these people. Just tell them it's the governor's fault or something.
Advisor: No, no. This is much worse. It seems one of our students became intoxicated this weekend.
Dean: GOOD GOD! How could this have happened? How are you sure?
Advisor: He wrote on a friend's wall on facebook about quote, "How drunk they were."
Dean: You mean someone else was drunk with him??? Quick, get me the MUPD. I'm putting a stop to this right now!
Advisor: Very good, Dean. But I still don't understand how these bright young students lost their way.
Dean: I bet Paige Laurie is somehow behind this.

Now, if the Man can just lighten up, realize that facebook profiles don't really mean anything, and quit trying to kill my buzz, maybe more students can create blogs or personal profiles that really convey how they feel. I, for one, refuse to let the Man dictate my self expression.

So to the authorities investigating me right now, this is me saying, Go Facebook yourself.

Click here to learn a deep philsophy

2006-02-28T13:22:00.000-08:00

So, you want to know. You really think you're ready? Ready for a profund truth? You have to clear away all distractions. Turn off your iPod and focus. Ask yourself this one simple question: Where IS Waldo? Okay, I'm sensing a lot of you just frowned and closed this window, but if you read on you'll be rewarded. Everyone knows "Where's Waldo?" It's true, everyone does. But very few know the answer. I know. Where's Waldo is a series of books about the adventures of a 30-something year old traveler who stands in crowds and it's your job to find him. Big whoop, who cares? I'm guessing most of you have looked at one or two Waldo games, maybe a whole book if you've got a good attention span. I owned three Waldo books and have carefully perused many more. Waldo seems kind of dull when taken at face value, but you have to look past the red and white stripes and the quirky smile. The answer to the question "Where's Waldo?" is: "Right here." Waldo is a reflection of all of us. He embodies our oh-so human nature of insecurity. In all of his scenarios, Waldo is in the midst of chaos. He's been through wars, haunted amusement parks, chaotic zoos, fancy ballrooms, the list goes on. In each one, Waldo is just a simple person blending into the crowd. He doesn't want to stand out or become the life of the party. He just sits on the sidelines, where he knows he's safe. There is insecurity in all of us that makes us want to sink into the crowd. But it's not that Waldo is unhappy. He is always smiling, and he even has a small group of friends (a girlfriend, a dog, and a wizard buddy) but that's enough for him. He has an enemy(Odlaw, Waldo spelled backwards and looks like a yellow and black version of Waldo) but through it all Waldo just smiles. He never participates in the action. He never fights in the war, or swims in the ocean, or dances at a party. He just smiles. This may seem a bit pesimistic, that someone lives their life giving in to their insecurities, but when you think about it, if that's where you feel happiest, why not? He doesn't mind never being the hero. Waldo just enjoys being alive. He is acutally rather optimistic. For one thing, he completely ignores materialism. In all of his journeys he is constantly losing his stuff. Does that stop him from seeing the world? Or course not. By the end of the book, he's lost everything, but he doesn't put his life on hold to find them. He continues on, because Waldo knows, everything will just work out. Can't we all relate to Waldo? Isn't it better not to focus on everything you can't control and just live? I see Waldo in all of us. So the real question is this, "Where isn't Waldo?"

An Ode to Death

2006-02-23T11:55:00.000-08:00

What do you think happens,
whenever we die?
Do we party in heaven,
while all our friends cry?

Should my death be so sad,
that it breaks all the hearts
of my family and friends
when my soul departs?

No, I actually think
that it should bring joy.
So don't shed a tear
for the death of this boy.

There's an old weird tradition
but it's not strange to me.
There's a celebration of death
in my family.

When an old person croaks,
why should it be sad?
We can look back and laugh
at the life that they had.

They're with God now,
or so we believe.
They're not upset
so why should we grieve?

My great grandma's wake,
oh what a great day!
The grown-ups got drunk
while the kids would all play.

By the end of that day
there were no hearts to mend.
She had lived a long life,
but it came to and end.

And when my grandma died
just this past summer,
her card was up,
not really a bummer.

It brought a family together
and each one of us shared
our own favorite memory
of the living-impaired.

We laughed, it was fun,
and nobody cried.
It's a great way to deal
with a loved one who died.

So I know when I go,
I want my wake to kick ass.
No boring sermons
from a preacher at Mass.

Think of my life
and the memories to share.
Because I'll be "living" it up
and I'll see you up there.

My favorite after school cartoon

2006-02-21T12:12:00.000-08:00

Get ready for a flashback. From the years 1993 to 1998, I had to rush home after school to watch my favorite cartoon: The Animaniacs. God, I loved that show. Hell I STILL love that show. It's just too bad they stopped running the reruns. But come on, I think that show was popular enough. Where's the freakin DVD set??? Oh well, I saw every episode that show ever made, so I can replay them in my head if I want. Seriously, Animaniacs kicked ass. It came during a time beginning around '88-'89 known as the animation renaissance where cartoons began to gain in popularity, seeing the return of Disney, Warner Bros. entrance into animation, and the introduction of the cartoon icons, the Simpsons. You can probably see now that the age of cartoons is coming to an end, since the Simpsons should've given it up LONG ago before they got stale and annoying, and the fact that the future of animation is in computer graphics, not hand drawings. But in the midst of this cartoon popularity, Animaniacs came out at the height of animation's creative power. The cartoon starred the Warner brothers, Yakko and Wakko, and the Warner sister, Dot, as three former Warner Bros. film stars who were so crazy they had to be locked up in the Warner Bros. water tower. Of course, the trio escapes and wreak havoc on the studio lot. Hilarity ensues. The show also included a cast of characters not related to the Warners, who appeared in animated shorts throughout each episode, such as Pinky and the Brain (two lab mice bent on world domination), Rita and Runt(a stray cat and dog team looking for a home), Mindy and Buttons(an oblivious baby who walks into danger and her dog who has to continuosly save her), Katie Ka-Boom(an overemotional teenager who turns into a raging monster and explodes when she gets upset) among many others. Which was your favorite? The most popular was Pinky and the Brain. They eventually spawned their own spin-off show which was pretty good. My personal favorite was Slappy the Squirrel. Slappy was a former beautiful move star during the classic Hollywood golden age. She's now old and bitter, and sits alone at home and complains about television these days. Her life would be without any cheer if not for her peppy nephew, Skippy. Her adventures revolve around her and Skippy's battles with Slappy's old cartoon enemies. Each episode is full of intelligent, sarcastic commentary on modern television and movies, while at the same time catches cheap laughs at making fun of old people. A bit Roadrunner-esque, the old villains conjure various elaborate traps to kill Slappy, but of course, nobody beats the master. Slappy out-foxes them(or should I say out-squirrels them) each and every time. Skippy was also a common target for the bad guys, but he always saves himself by becoming so cute and innocent that the bad guy can't bring himself to off the little guy, which usually leads him into some kind of trap by Slappy. It was great. The whole Animaniacs show was simply outstanding. They had some of the best musical numbers of any show ever. Anybody remember when Yakko sang a song naming EVERY country in the world? Or when Wakko sang all fifty states and their capitals? I have to admit, that episode taught me state capitals better than any teacher or textbook. The show was so smart. They perfected the art of random pop culture references, an art to which Family Guy owes its success. It also included so much social satire that my parents even loved it. I wish I could go back and watch them all again so I could get many of the jokes I missed as a kid. Animaniacs was always funny, always smart, always creative, and it knew when to quit. The show left the air before beating the dead horse. It came, it saw, it conquered. And then it passed the torch to other cartoons, but unfortunately, they couldn't hold up to the Animaniac's greatness. For all these reasons and more, Animaniacs was my favorite after school cartoon. Oh, and I JUST read five seconds ago that it will be released this summer. There is a god.

NERD! Hey buddy, you get a load of the nerd?

2006-02-16T15:14:00.000-08:00

There is a certain subject I NEVER want to hear about ever again: Chuck freakin' Norris. There has recently been this huge running gag on the web where people make up facts about the amazing power and verility of Chuck Norris. I never thought Chuck Norris was cool, but the little quips had an interesting flare, and they caught on like the plague. But just let it go, people! Chuck Norris is old, Walker Texas Ranger was probably the gayest show ever on television, and he sucked even when he wasn't a washed up action hero hauking some piece of crap workout machine on late night infomercials. So stop sending me lists on facebook of the time Chuck Norris killed Jesus or impregnated a whale or whatever, and stop trying to come up with new ones. I swear, it's like when a toddler does something that makes you laugh, so then the kid does it again and again until you just have to tell him to stop. You bastards ruined Napoleon with your shit, endlessly parroting every line of the film. I understand that you aren't funny or clever, but reciting the dialogue of Napoleon Dynamite just showcases how pathetic your life is, and not in the way that will garner pity, just contempt. But you know, I'm a nice guy. I see that your heart is in the right place, you just want to make people laugh. Can't blame you for that. So here's a list of things to do to help you quit being an annoying jackass. The next time you feel like telling someone about Chuck Norris or quoting Napoleon Dynamite just do the following:

1. Stop and think about what you're going to say.

2. Imagine the world if you don't make this reference.

3. Shoot yourself in the face.

These three steps should please others, and also improve your social life, which probably consists of either public harrassment and daily beatings or complete isolation in your parents' basement. Either way, any change would be an improvement.

I'm kidding, though. I kid because I love. Because really, I'm a nerd at heart. I dig video games, I think trivial facts about the world are interesting, Monty Python and the Holy Grail is hilarious, and slutty girls scare the HELL out of me. And I get along with nerds well. I understand their humor and I can play into that. Besides, where would we be without nerds? They've made the greatest contributions to medicine and scientific research. Their computer skills have revolutionized the transfer of information, made our lives easier with robotic engineering, and given us countless hours of entertainment with advancements in video games and cinema. Nerds have also given comic smart asses like me endless material (i.e. this whole blog post). And most of them are really nice and will help you with your homework if you just ask. It's sad when they try to dish out pop culture just to fit in. If the nerd just acknowledges the fact that he is, in fact, a nerd, then he could be a lot happier and wouldn't have to try so hard. Nerds can have cool friends. I mean come on, we all have that one nerdy friend who hangs out with our group. You know the one I'm talking about, he's nobody's BEST friend, but we all like him enough. My nerdy friend's name is Hirtz. Hirtz says nerdy things that make him the butt of everyone's jokes, but he takes it in stride as it's all in good fun. He tries to party like the rest of us, but just doesn't seem to get it. He's a bit awkward in social situations, but when we all get together for a party, it's always, "Oh yeah, we gotta call Hirtz." And it usually goes something like this:
*ring ring* -Hello?
-Hey Hirtz, it's me. What are you doing?
-Reading about Cecil Rhodes. Did you know he had his own African country supported just by diamond mining?
-Uhh...no, I didn't know that.
-It's now the present day Debeers company!
-Yeah, cool. Want to come party with us?
-Sure, who is this?
-What??? It's Steve.
-Oh, Steve, Hi. Sure, I'll come right over.
-Wait, Hirtz! It's only 6 o'clock.
But it's too late, he's already hung up and coming over to my house. But oh well. He's a nerd, but he's one of our guys. He's hopeless, but he's our friend.

It's my religion, not my lifestyle

2006-02-14T12:35:00.000-08:00

When was the last time you prayed? Not like reciting an old prayer, but spoke to God in your own words. I'm not about to go Brother Jeb on you, so hear me out. Last week, I went to church. It had been a year and half since I had been. Having been through Catholic schools all my life, and NEVER went a week without going to church since I was born, religion was always a part of my life. When I came up to Mizzou and wasn't obligated to go to church with my family, I simply stopped going. There was nothing wrong with my life that I was rebelling against God, I just got lazy and didn't care enough to go. But recently, something has been nagging at me. In the back of my mind, I felt like I was missing something. So last Sunday, I staggered out of bed at 6:30 in the morning, with only 2 hours of sleep, hung over as hell, and made the walk to church. Let me tell you, it was a bit surreal. It was cold, with a sharp chilly wind. It was overcast and just barely snowing. The whole world seemed gray. There was hardly any cars out and no people were walking the sidewalks. I can't describe the feeling, but it felt wierd. Then I sat through church. I never participate when I go; I don't sing or chant the prayers, but it's enough just to show up. After it was over, I went home and went back to bed. I learned something though. I can not deny the virtues that were given to me. I'm not a religious person really. The laws of the church don't govern my life. I drink, I smoke, and (Brother Jeb, if you're reading this, skip the next couple of words) I've even fornicated!!! *cue dramatic DUM-DUM-DUMMMM!!!!! But dammit, I was born a Catholic and I'll die a Catholic. It's true what they say, nobody ever gets away from the Catholic church. If you were raised on it, you're stuck. Even though I think the church has so many ridiculous rules, the bottom line for me is, "Just try to be a good boy, Steve. That's all you can do." And for that, I returned to my church.

Now, with that said, here's my most HATED aspect of church: Jesus-kids. You guys know those kids who think it's super cool to think of Jesus in every aspect of life? OH MAN, those people piss me off. It's like they go to mass to scout out young people who aren't already in their clique, and try to recruit them. Hey Saint Loser, LEAVE ME ALONE!!! Just because I go to church doesn't mean I want to be your apostle. Youth groups are lame, Christian Rock SUCKS, and the Bible is not an authority on modern issues! I don't know why these kids decided to wage a crusade of Christ against me, but I just want to go to church. Don't preach to me. I don't want your beliefs, I have my own. Not only that, but they put such a negative face on religion in general, and turn those off who might someday join a church. Example: Brother Jeb is the product of the absolute worst that religion can do to a person. No one takes him seriously except other crazies just like him, so his sermons are all in total vain, and even though I laugh at him, when you think about it, it's just kind of sad really. Did his parents inflict this upon him, or has he done it to himself? Either way, that guy's spiralled so far down into it, and he's SO close-minded, he really is beyond help. But you know, I don't have that big a problem with it. To each his own. At that, I'd like to leave you with a quote. As I began this post with a question on prayer, I'd like to refer back to that. An old friend, the most foul-mouthed, drunk, son of a bitch and devoted Catholic you'll ever find, once said this to me on prayer:

"It's important to pray, boy. In order to converse with an equal, an Irishman is forced to talk to God."

Thumbs down for electricity

2006-02-09T11:54:00.000-08:00

How many of you have ever been electricuted? I don't mean a little shock from an electric guitar or something little like that. But really got your ass lit up by electricity? I have, several times. First of all, I believe I have some kind of wierd electric current in my body because I ALWAYS get static shocks. Every time I touch metal, be it doorknobs or silverware or my keys, I never get away without a shock. I've even been struck "down there" when it comes in contact with my zipper, talk about being completely immobilized! And not just the little blips you're probably thinking of, I get static shocks that literally cause me to shout "AH!!" and I have to stop and recover for a few seconds. They're really loud for static shocks, and whenever people are around they always remark about how loud that shock was. Last week, I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and when I touched the doorknob, I got such a bad shock that my roommate actually saw the light flash up in the dark room and asked, "What was that?" I was still kind of rattled but I said, "I got shocked again." And of course, he was amazed, "Dude! That lit up the whole room!"
But that's not the extent of my problem, I've been electricuted in the past. I lived on a livestock farm and we have all these electric fences to keep the animals in. Sometimes my dad would reroute the fences and not tell me. And they're just thin little wires that you don't really notice if you don't know they're there. So I would go walking along and walk right into the fence, and get shocked, once to the point where I vomited. The worst was probably the time my cousin unplugged a street light. I don't know why he did, but I tried to plug it back in. The outlet was in the dark, so I had to hold the plug and poke around. The last thing I remember, I saw a flash of light, but my cousin said a huge spark erupted, I jumped up and then stumbled around for like ten steps, and then fell. I passed out and then woke up about a minute later. I had this wierd twitch thing going on that lasted the next hour or so and for some reason, I had the worst metallic taste in my mouth, like I had a mouthful of pennies. It made me spit and gag uncontrollably. So that was a pretty bad one. But on Tuesday, I got another big jolt. I was in my room, just took a shower, and tried to turn on my stereo, but my roommate had unplugged it to put in his phone charger. You're going to think I'm just an idiot and that I'm sticking my fingers into the outlet or something, but no, I assure you, I'm very careful about electricity. Louie the Lightning Bug taught me well, if you guys remember that old cartoon public service. I had to reach behind the drawers to unplug the charger, and when I went to plug in the stereo, I got such a shock and such a surge of pain that I lost my balance and stumbled back, knocking over a laundry hamper. As I was already pretty much on the floor, I sat down to recover and my nose started bleeding really bad. It was wierd, I've never had a nosebleed before. So as you can see, I have had more than my fair share of close calls with this stuff. I've never met another person where electricity is a major recurring problem in their life. Does anyone else have this trouble?

Superbowl Flop

2006-02-07T12:34:00.000-08:00

Sunday evening I had to work at my job at the Rec Center. I didn't get to do anything fun for the Superbowl, but I really wasn't that excited about it anyway, so it was fine. But the best part was that NO ONE was there. We have a TV on the wall near where I work, so I did get to watch the game. It was the easiest shift ever. Unfortunately for the Rec Center Event staff, they had guessed that people would be there. They had planned a big Super Bowl watch party in the Tiger Grotto, with snacks, prize giveaways, a huge screen projecting the game, and even a live DJ. As soon as I heard of this, I went to the Event staff and told them, "Nobody's gonna come to this. It's going to be a total failure." Of course, it was just like the old cliche scene in movies where the one scientist figures out that the world is gonna end and he brings his findings to the people in charge and they dismiss him. You know what I'm talking about? And they always kick him out while he's yelling about, "You have to listen to me!!!" Well that's exactly what happened to me. I told them it would be an utter failure and they sent me away. Now, I hate to say I told you so. BUT I FREAKING TOLD THEM SO! Nobody came, they threw away so much food, they cancelled the DJ, never gave away any prizes, and the Event Staff was just sitting around feeling stupid. The lady in charge who I had talked to came out of the "party" and said to me, "man, looks like a small turnout." and I replied, "Yeah, who would've thought?" She was pissed. I was satisfied.

Dude, my roommate is Han Solo

2006-02-02T12:45:00.000-08:00

I had a great roommate first semester. His name is Dale Ley. Dale is nice and funny, and he will always help you whenever he can. Not much of a party-goer, but an all-around cool guy. As he turned 21 last semester (which was awesome for me as you can guess why), he figured it was way past time to move out of the dorms. So he moved into an apartment this semester and over Christmas break I could only wonder who would be the new kid to live with me. Well the semester came and my new roommate is named Alex. It's kind of eerie, but of all the hundred of kids applying for new dorms, I got a kid from my high school's rival and he knows like all my friends! But Alex is cool. He has this attitude about him that's kind of arrogant, kind of laid back, kind of a bad ass. It reminded me so much of someone but for the first couple weeks I couldn't put my finger on it. Then one day it just hit me. My roommate is Han Solo. If you don't know who I'm talking about check out this on Wikipedia. I admit, I'm a Star Wars fan, (not quite geek enough to know all aspects of Star Wars, but I've seen the movies like a schmillion times) so when I say he's like Han Solo, this guy is DEFINATELY like Han Solo. First of all, he has a girlfriend, and most of the time he talks to her like he doesn't even like her. But really, he just doesn't put up with her girly drama crap. But then, for seemingly no reason at all, he'll go and do something so charming she'll just melt. If that ain't Han Solo, I don't know what is. And then he's got an arrogance about him. Not so bad that it repulses people, but rather draws others in, kind of like, "Who is this guy that he knows he's the shit?" And of course, he doesn't disappoint. He's totally laid back, he has like tests coming up on him, and he's like, "eh, I know it enough," and he's right. He passes with flying colors. He's the cool guy at parties but not the center of attention, my roommate IS Han Solo. Also, just by coincidence, in all honesty, (not that I'm proud of this, and sorry girls but you might be grossed out) but I'm probably one of the hairiest guys you'll ever meet! Just like Han's wingman, Chewbacca! It's so cool! I've already gotten us into some sticky situations (of which I'm sure to write about later in this blog) and he sticks by me every step of the way. Steve and Alex, Han and Chewie: the adventures await us.

NOT up to par

2006-02-02T12:11:00.000-08:00

66 to 53. You know, Texas is ranked 7th so I thought Mizzou actually had a shot at winning last night's game. But when a team plays basketball like the Tigers last night, they can't expect to put up much of a chance. It's not like the effort wasn't there, Texas is just a better team. But is that to say Texas is really all that great? Football? Yes. Basketball, not so much. But Mizzou is the premier school in Missouri. Is this the best our state has to offer? I was there, Mizzou students have as much spirit as anybody, and really love their team. But by the end of the game, the fire in everyone's hearts was all but extinguished. And how are we going to expect valuable recruits when the athletics program just isn't what it's supposed to be? It's odd, a bit of a spiraling effect. The best players want to go to successful teams and they get better, while the worse teams get less talented players, and stay mediocre while other schools get better and better. Not that Mizzou is beyond saving. There's a lot of buzz about Quin Snyder leaving, and a new coach is always grounds for renewed hope.

So very tired.

2006-01-31T13:05:00.000-08:00

It's what, like the third week of class and I've really learned something: I'm in way over my head. Everyone knows that English classes require a lot of reading, except my english advisor, apparently. He talked me into enrolling in all these upper level English classes all at once. Even though my instincts told me to take it easy, I AGAIN made the foolish mistake of listening to my advisor (See below for mistake #1). And now I'm burnt out. So much reading, so much writing, God I can't wait for death. It's gonna be sooo relaxing. In fact my brain is so fried that I did quite possibly the dumbest thing ever last Friday morning. No joke, the following story is completely true. I woke up Friday morning at 8 o'clock. With an hour before my first class, I decided to go get breakfast at Rollins. So I rolled out of bed, put some flip flops on, and staggered up to the dining hall. Still half asleep, I ate breakfast, which was amazing as always, Thanks Rollins, and then came back to my room. My roommate was up and asked, "Where were you?" I said, "Getting breakfast." And he says,"in your boxers?" I was speechless. I looked down to discover that I had on my white undershirt, flip flops, and NO PANTS, just a pair of boxers with little green shamrocks on them. My roommate sees what happened and died laughing. I guess what else can you do, so I started laughing with him. It was a great way to start the day, and I'll be sure to never do it again.

What's it all about?

2006-01-26T12:51:00.000-08:00

As I'm totally new to blogging, I'm still trying to find some direction with where I want to go with this blog. I like writing about my life because it's cathartic (I think I used that correctly), but then I began to think that nobody gives a damn about my life. But I started posting a kind of "my life" thing on Facebook, in the About Me section and I actually got a considerable response. It seems that I am exactly average in about every way. I get okay grades, but I have to work for them. I like sports, and I play alright but I was never the first one picked for the team. I read every now and then, but I'm in no way a scholar. I've had a few girls in my life, but I'm not what you'd call a player. Kind of funny, kind of nice, kind of smart, just kind of out there. And for that, people relate to me. Of course I've gotten into it with some liberals who just hate on kids that are fine with being ordinary, and some conservative kids have hated on me too, saying that I'm wierd. I just think I'm living a life of a normal college student. Classes, work, parties, friends, it's really not so tough being a middle class white guy. So my direction seems to be drifting into a blog that might be a social commentary on the city of Columbia. Entertaining (I hope), and useful (I hope moreso). Something you can relate to, and think about: The Life and Times of the Average Tiger.

Why my schedule sucks...

2006-01-24T12:06:00.000-08:00

My schedule this semester sucks. It really does. It's probably because I didn't register for my classes until the last day before Thanksgiving break. Gee, Steve, why on earth did you wait so long, you ask? One reason: Keisha Duncan. Keisha Duncan is a useless, self-absorbed, seat warmer passing herself unconvincingly off as an advisor in Cornell Hall. I wanted to transfer majors out of business and into english, so I met with "the Dunc" to find out how that is done. When I told her I what I wanted to do, she said it was no problem and dropped me from the business school. She gave me a copy of my transcripts and sent me on my merry way. Little did I know that she had neglected to inform me of a very important document: the Transfer sheet. Here's where it gets messy. I go to register for classes, but I can't because my registration has a Dean's hold. Days go by as I flow through all the channels this school has, trying to figure out how to lift the Dean's Hold. Finally, I get some help when I ask an english advisor specializing in graduate students what I had to do. It was odd to me that this guy had the answers to my problem, since I'm not a graduate student and it's only my second year here. Assuming my old advisor already had me fill out a transfer sheet, this advisor said I had to fill out a Grad Plan because I'll be graduating next year. So he helps me finish my Grad Plan and tells me exactly where to go to turn it in. I rush there to turn it in because it's the day before Thanksgiving break and the person who takes them is about to go home for the day. I'm told I can't turn it in because I'm not in the system. I'm not in the system because I never properly transferred into the department i.e. I never filled out a transfer sheet. Then I'm told the deadline for transfer sheets had passed two days earlier. It boils down to this:
I can't register for classes because I have a Dean's hold...
which can't be lifted until I turn in my Grad Plan...
which I can't turn in until I fill out a tranfer sheet...
which I can't fill out because I waited too long and the deadline had passed...
which is because Keisha Duncan, for all her vast skills in the fast-paced world of advising, neglected to inform me of the existence of such a document!
The Grad Plan office pretty much told me, "GAME OVER. YOU LOSE." Oh, I don't think so. With fire in my eyes, I storm over to Cornell Hall to settle this vendetta I've just conjured up in my heart. I walked into Keisha Duncan's office and told her what's up. Big K tries to give me the run-around by telling me that the english department is in charge of me now. "Ha! I don't think so. I'm still in the business school, because you never had me fill out the transfer sheet, so you're still my advisor! Now just lift the Dean's hold and I'll leave." Then she tries the old "there's nothing I can do" approach. My response: "You better hope there is because I'm not leaving until you lift the Dean's hold." That one took her off guard. We sat there in silence for a few seemingly endless seconds, and then she got up and left. She came back a couple minutes later with another woman and a file. Keisha says, "Look, don't try and pin this on me because I got the file of everything that was said the day you met with me." I'm like, "Good! Read the file, because nowhere in it will there be anything said about a transfer sheet. And I'm not here to turn in my transfer sheet, I'll do that next semester. I'm here to get the Dean's Hold lifted so I can get my classes. Just give me what I want!" She reads the file, and the other woman, who I assume was her boss or something, sees that the incredibly knowledgeable and totally competent Miss Keisha, had indeed screwed me over big time. The woman tells Keisha to click on my name and hit F9 and Enter. She says, "Okay, the Dean's Hold is gone. Sorry for the trouble." F9 AND ENTER??!!?? That's all you had to do? I was so disgusted by the whole ordeal I just got up and left. I couldn't say anything because I think I was in shock. And so now you now, friends, why my schedule sucks. It was a long and frustrating road, but hey, it got some good laughs from my friends later on. So it was totally worth it!

First post

2006-01-19T12:53:00.000-08:00

This is the first post.