All over, people are suffering, persevering, and making their dreams come true. Somewhere in the universe, The Local Nutcase is reconsidering what his blog stands for. Where is the beer?

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

And yet, I continue to work here. Why? Because I love this place, warts and all. I love working at a college. I love working at a women's college, even though (SEXISM) women are the hardest people to deal with here. (I said it, Id say it again if I had to.) I love working in one of the departments that works orientation, where I can get out of the office and see the new crop of students, and laugh at their foibles. Not least of all, I love working with my two best friends.

Its a nice place to be, our fair school. Granted, I dont really agree with the way things are heading (I never really rally behind The Man coming down hard and fast), but its a beautiful place, and by far the nicest place I've ever been employed (not to mention the ONLY place I have been employed so long). The people are nice (not in MY department, but you know, generally) and the students wear revealing clothes at times (and I have a high window, if you follow me).

So. Up with Boobies, down with The Man, and Long Live My Love for the Environment I Sit In.

(Five minutes later)

Okay, Im ready for Seattle.

State of the University of HELL

This opening of school address has become a time for me to share with you issues important to the University as a whole and issues important to our school as it relates to higher education in Texas and the nation.

-Namely, how much money will all of these things be giving us?

All that I share today, I want to place inside the frame of Strategic Planning. Many of you know -- others will soon learn -- we are engaged in a 10-year Vision for our school, with a five-year Strategic Plan identifying Goals, Objectives, Targets, and Strategies.

-In other words, why are you glad you are leaving eventually? The world will soon know of my evil plan.

We label them "drafts" because all of us -- Finance and Administration, Student Life, Information Services, Marketing and Communication, and Institutional Development -- will need to adjust our Plans to be sure they support and enhance the Academic Plan that faculty will identify this fall.

- All plans must support The Commonwealth! Crush the opposition! The FACULTY is now in charge! BWAHAHAHAHA!

This Plan will also include a systematic way for our school to engage in Academic Program Review -- a process that we must commit to and then commit to acting upon the recommendations as they serve best the mission of the University.

-Serve the university......serve the university......serve the university.......

Important calendar dates for the Strategic Planning Process include:
June - August 2004: Identify strategic planning goals in areas of: Finance and Administration, Student Life, Information Services, Institutional Development, and Marketing and Communication. Begin academic planning.
September - Mid-October 2005: Identify strategic planning goals in the academic areas.
Mid-October - December 20, 2005: Draft a Strategic Plan.
January 2006: Refine Plan and prepare for printing.
February 24, 2006: Present Strategic Plan to Board of Regents.


-February 25, 2006: Make a single phone call, and call into action dozens of spookers in the highest levels of government and society. Execute Order 66.

We are not starting from scratch. Our School knows itself rather well.

-Do YOU know our school? You'd better hope so, because citizenship in the new world will be granted only to those who can pass a "Standardized Test" after taking my truth serum.

Our task is to:
Focus, so we do not become distracted
Make decisions about directions and stick by them
Involve the University in continuous assessment and improvement
Connect planning to the budget
Better educate the administration, faculty, and staff about their roles and responsibilities and the workings and regulations of a public higher education institution in Texas.


-OFMICB! Memorize it!

Enrollment.
We usually begin this address talking about enrollment. Let's do so again.


-HA! I've talked for close to 400 years, and they still hadn't realized I haven't yet gotten going!

When I arrived in Fall 2000, we declared a war on enrollment.

-With the utilization of a little thing I like to call The Denton Project, we will ensure a final decisive victory against all who oppose us in the third world country of Enrollment. The streets will run red with the blood of insurgent Enrollers!

It is left for us to "close the deal." One fact we have learned together is that the state only pays a university for the students who have enrolled and paid by the 12th day. If you permit someone to stay in your classroom who is not enrolled and not paid, our school teaches that person for free. We cannot afford to do this.

-Require all students to carry a copy of their class schedule, notarized and signed by the governer himself, to class daily. Any students without such documentation will be declared an Enemy of The State University, and will have a five second grace period before they are hunted down by our special team of teacher's assistants, hereafter known as the Stalwart Squad (SS).

Our greatest challenge is to have new and adjunct faculty understand this process. So no matter how sad or emotional the circumstances are regarding a student, all faculty need to call roll each day of the first 2 weeks of school and identify anyone in the classroom who has not paid and have that person correct the situation or leave class.

-Weakness will not be tolerated. You KNOW who Im talking to..... (a man is suddenly dragged out of the room by armed agents)

Our 12th day numbers are the basis of our school's formula funding from the state. For FY 2005, 32% of our total budget was derived from this source. So it is a critical piece of our total resources. As you have seen over the past 3 years, the resources have been reinvested in you, the faculty and in students.

-FUCK THE STAFF!

The staff have not been forgotten.

-Whose heads do you think adorn floor 16 of ACT?

The FY 2006 budget is aggressive and focused on achieving academic excellence.

-Kneel before The Budget!

Before leaving the topic of the budget, I want to stress that not all monies can be spent as we might wish.

-Apparently, some BLEEDING HEARTS in the state capital still think that puppy-skin coats and depleted uranium are "improper" for a University President. (rolls eyes)

What follows are assorted notes from the rest of the speech, which indeed is still going on somewhere on campus in a room that smells of feces and death.

The Guest House, residence of the late "goodwill ambassador," opened to visitors at Homecoming 2005. -Haven't YOU ever wanted to stay in the haunted mansion?
Campus Lighting-- candle light is increased -Our candlelight has decreased SIGNIFICANTLY since the University was opened.
No debate is allowed.
-- one night I awoke with an epiphany - the north side of Halston Hall should do it.-After several months, we have come close to getting a building on campus laid. 40 Year Old Virgin indeed!
The Graduate Research Building must be addressed.-How have people been getting mail there anyway?
we will aggressively continue to renew our campuses. -Renew, dammit! Renew!

-All in all, we cannot rest on our laurels, Countrymen and women! We must FIGHT, DESTROY, KILL these educations like the puling rot they are! Down with Resting! Up with the new Republic of Women!

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

My Basic Mood today

!!!

Monday, August 29, 2005

FINE! MY seven! Ya jackyls!

Seven Things I Plan To Do Before I Die
Two Chicks at the same time, man. (not really)
Publish a novel, or, failing that, a collection of short stories
Have a breakdown onstage, during the show
Maybe have that be part of the script
Go to the bathroom 378,958,152,655.4 more times
Find a relationship with a nice, smart, funny girl, who loves me for me
Dump that girl for a model

Seven things I can do
Pitch socks with my dirty parts
recite all the words to Jive Talkin'
lie about my knowledge of BeeGee's songs with a straight face
decide who gets a scholarship amongst student assistants in my office
remember just about every conversation I have for reference later during fights
write the same thing twice
write the same thing twice

Seven things I can not do
see through lead
you know. (nods) I cant do...you know what I mean. Guys...you've tried it. yeah...you know.
get over the cancellation of Firefly
tipe prapeerly:::;;;;
go two fuck words without fuck saying the fuck word penis.
Wear navy socks with black pants and shoes
apparently, think of a reason to take anything too seriously right now

Seven things that I find really attractive about the same sex
sisters
daughters
mothers
grandmothers (i know)
coolness with other men (when they first meet)
coolness with other men (when hes on a date with me)
the ability for me to pretend they have no scrotum

Seven things I say the most
What
The
Fuck
Is
THat
Putrid
SMell?

Seven people I would like to see take this test
My clone
My clone's clone
NOT my clone's clone's clone (I hate that dude)
Sybil
Sybil
Sybil
John Cusack in Identity

Half a Million Bucks

Well, Nutcase is back in the house. I found out yesterday that I will be Stage Managing (all by myself, a real big boy stage manage) Inherit The Wind, directed by a long lost theatre buddy of mine. Huzzah! Bring on the religion!

For those of you who may not have heard, it is true, Mary and I are no longer together (the irony in that statement gives me ass pains). Its ok, she's still an angel in Orlando, just not MY angel in Orlando. I think the commute just got to be too much for us. But, she's still around, and I still encourage you all to read her blog. http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=memary
Its funny, she's funny, and its good bloggin'.

I will have to say that Nutcase: Year 23 (my twenty-fourth actual year on this planet) has been a tough one. I guess not as tough as high school (lotta hormones) or college (lotta hatred from the roommate, not much sex) but this past year probably had more actual tough problems and horrible happenings. Now, I know I get complainy all too often, and I don't want this to be a pity party. Its just that more than once this year, I have told my good friends Catpants or E3 or Babs or Lestat what has been wrong lately, and they stare in shock that I haven't immediately leapt in front of the nearest team of Clydesdales.

You know, aside from all my problems (even with them), I am the luckiest guy you will ever read a boring blog of angst about. I know that as well as I know my own name (Nutcase). I just...

I know that probably my two closest friends (Catpants and E3, even though if you pay attention to his blog, he doesn't technically exist anymore) would not be able to name a time when I was 100% more happier than I am. I think the difference this year is the amount of time between unhappy moments. This year, its pretty much been cut down to an average of a couple of weeks before something horrible happens. (knock on wood to that one, Im on week two of reasonable straightforwardness; or was last week the week Corky died and I broke up....it was. Rest easy).

But, I have stuff to look forward to. My next sunrise. The next time I see my friends and break bread with them. The next time I do something special and make my mom happy (which happens so rarely, it seems lately). My beautiful life in Seattle, and all the trips that get ready for that. My next pet, and the next time I make a girl smile by being funny(hopefully that last one will happen, you know, within the next lunar cycle, but you get my point). I have so much to be thankful for, much less to look forward to. I love you all, and I seriously hope the tone of this blog hasn't taken on a suicide note quality.

(I know its cheesy of me to always put lyrics on my blogs to show what Im feeling, but fuck ya if ya cant read a Steve Winwood song.)

It used to seem to me
That my life ran on too fast
And I had to take it slowly
Just to make the good parts last
But when you're born to run
It's so hard to just slow down
So don't be surprised to see me
Back in that bright part of town

I'll be back in the high life again
All the doors I closed one time will open up again
I'll be back in the high life again
All the eyes that watched me once will smile and take me in
And I'll drink and dance with one hand free
Let the world back into me
And on I'll be a sight to see
Back in the high life again

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Preparing for the Upcoming California Gubernatorial Elections




Tuesday, August 23, 2005

The Long-Lost Science of Reading

Here is something you probably never thought you'd be thinking about today.

In porno stores, when you make a purchase, they offer you a free "magazine", which is actually just a catalogue of movies and "marital aids". 80% of the people offered these magazines turn it down, under the auspices that they prefer the moving image.

Uh, ok, people. We're talking about a book that is ONLY pictures, and is free. Its not like they ask you to choose between Pravda and Jugs.

This, to me, is kind of alarming. For some reason, I think our society is pushing back from intelligence and reading. Remember when intelligence became really hot in the 80s? Everybody wanted to be Matthew Broderick in War Games, or Val Kilmer in Pure Genius, or, god forbid, Doogie Howser. The 90s saw people like Janeane Garafaolo and Matt Lauer and a hundred other stars who were as smart as they were pretty (I will one day have Garafaolo's baby).

What's becoming popular now? NASCAR. Shows, on the Discovery Channel admittedly, but about morons working on cars. Wrestling.

It also doesn't help that the highest levels of our government are encouraging us to dispute science. Thats GREAT! I agree. If ANYTHING, we have come too far as a society. Time to take a step back, and put more of our kids minds into the hands of a 6000 year old book, not, god forbid, ANYTHING WE'VE LEARNED SINCE THEN. Bring on the Dark Ages!

I, for one, am going to stick with smarts. The chicks will always be hotter, and I'll feel better about myself in the morning.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Corky Duncan, 1993-2005


Well, for those of you who heard me express worry about my ailing puppy, this just in. She left us last night at around 12:30. She hadn't been feeling well, and definitely wasn't acting up to her normal self.

I can remember the first time mom brought her home, when I was in 8th grade. She was TINY, and she had such a nervous countenance. Soon, though, she became friendly enough enough with me to always sit in MY lap, to always sleep in MY bed, (and to always hump MY leg, for those of you who were lucky enough to see me fend her off).

She was a good puppy, and I hope I was a good daddy.

Friday, August 19, 2005

Fear

(Steve Irwin voice) You can see 'im down there.....


You know what I like and am interested in? Sharks. You know the one physical thing that scares me? Sharks. And we all know the coolest and scariest one, dont we?




The great white. The most talked about and popular shark, certainly of the last 30 or so years, since Jaws. Actually, I think, not the most dangerous. That falls to the tiger shark.




But compare this...



...to this. No contest.




This, to me, is the scariest vision of a shark. You know what this guy is gonna do? GET EATEN BY A FUCKING SHARK. Know what he can do about it? FUCK ALL! Perhaps thats the thing that scares me. In the water, swimmer though I am, Im slower than molasses. I cant quite beat a swimming, eating, little-baby-shark-making machine. Nor would I want to get pugilistic with a FUCKIN SHARK. I know, I know. "If you get attacked by a shark, hit it in the gills, or on the nose or eye." I know.



Go ahead and take a swing at it, Cassius Clay. See which one of us ends up with the possibility of a promising banjo career.

Have you ever seen Deep Blue Sea? Seriously, the only real contender for Jaws as far as shark movies go. Take a look at this. Even the Punisher is leaving a trail of warm water right now.



Picture yourself underwater. Suddenly, you see a dark shape moving around. The water is filmy, and you cant see very far. Then....

Thursday, August 18, 2005

OH.....MY.....BACKSTROKE

http://www.winterson.com/2005/06/episode-iii-backstroke-of-west.html#ha

Apparently, when the japanese make a bootleg, they translate it from English to Japanese back to English.

Hilarity ensues.

AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

















"Like that episode where Gilligan gets sick of being teased
And he breaks into the Professor's lab and makes some LSD
Peaks freaks and eats the Skipper's brains then beats Ginger with coconuts
As Mr. Howell and Lovey burn alive inside of their grass hut
Oh he'll kill again that Gilligan they should of let him be
And like a postal clerk I'll go berserk if you don't stop teasing me
see the trick is only pick on those that can't do you no harm
Like the drummer from Def Leppard's only got one arm"


I dont know whether or not its because Im a guy, or because Im wearing blue, or because I said the secret fucking word, but I am SICK of getting shit at work. Everyday, I feel a bit closer to mooning everyone in the building, or perhaps just launching into a rage filled rant wherein I dont censor myself ("Rhonda, I would say it was about to get ugly in here, but you've been at work for hours!")

Good GOD. AGGGGGGGGGGHHHH! OWWWWWWOWWWWWWWWWWWWW! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!

FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

I feel no better.





Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Own your own little Patrick Bateman!

Complete with naked, taut body, "soft, clear, well taken care of" facial skin, bloody chainsaw, and copy of Huey Lewis and The News' Fore!

New sets include raincoat, business card design form, and head (from the freezer!)

Also purchase the two-hooker "Love" scene playset!

Ok, so I watched American Psycho last night, FINALLY. It is very interesting, and thought provoking at times, not to mention being a HILARIOUS spoof of yuppie life in the 80s. (example, in the first scene, 4 men sit around a table, having just finished dinner at one of those funny looking restaurants where they serve you, like, a carrot. The waiter drops off the tab. One of the men says, "Hey, $500, not too bad." Then they all pony up with the Amex.)

I only had one problem with the movie, and it wasnt even a problem with the MOVIE. My darling mother, who had seen it, described it as "disturbingly violent." I had heard this from a couple of places, so I admit I was intrigued. So, after watching it, I was horrified with myself. Thought provoked though I was, I never once flinched, or gasped. I'll admit to you (dont spread this around) I laughed through most of the film. When an open refridgerator unveiled a head in a plastic bag, I laughed. The chainsaw scene? I laughed. The "brains" line? Are you kidding? Yep, laughed there too.

I could make a statement here about how, as a society, we are all desensitized to violence. The problem is, as much as I love other humans, I dont really care about YOU GUYS. Im worried about ME! Shouldnt I be more shocked when people are brutally maimed and murdered?

I can only say that it is important how it is presented. In the first scene of Lean On Me, I was FURIOUS. It was the kind of rage against injustice that gets me to put on those tights every night and patrol the city.

But getting two women drunk, having sex with both of them, and then maybe eating them? LAUGH RIOT!

Monday, August 15, 2005

HB

Yeah, I dont know what brought that on.

Anyhow, I realized, yet again, that I am the next to youngest member of my friends. Woohoo! Live fast, die younger than everyone you lived younger than!

Happy birthday, you beautiful Catpants, you. Here's to a solid 100 more years of rocking.

Next song!

What smells like assburgers?

She climbed into the large, white, claw-footed bathtub, and awaited her secret lover.

The rush was always slow to start. As many times as she had felt it, as many times as she had brought it, she never knew what would be brought with it. Sometimes, clear images, fantasies, bits of lyric, memories came, each with its own history, each of which she could trace back to its origin with reasonable simplicity. Other times she could have classified them as feelings, but to do so would make her feel like a freshman year poetry student, who would chalk all of life's mysteries up to "the dark chambers of the heart". A poet she was, but freshman year had ended for her almost (oh Jesus, what a thought) ten years hence.

She instead referred to these (to only herself, of course) as the wispy, blown kisses of her muse. She never got around to putting a visage to this fantasy angel, or even a sex. (What would be the fun in that? She asked herself often, with good humor.) Her muse was always just on the outside of her actual vision, like the name of a movie you could never remember right away.

These silent kisses sometimes flooded her head at the time of the rush, sometimes did not come for weeks on end. She never missed them so much as she subconsciously noted to herself that they were not there. She got by just fine without them, but at times, when the ink would dry on the first word of the poem she was attempting to put on paper, she got the urge to bring the rush, and raise possibilityilty of her muse, her long time acquaintance in her heart, bestowing upon her a color or an ambinoiseosie to bring to her words.

As she turned off the tap (the water had risen above her breasts, steamy and cooling at the same time), she wondered if anyone else had ever been lucky enough to be able to use these kisses, whether in their professional life, or for their spiritual health. If so, would she ever be able to talk to such a person about it? She thought, with no real sadness, not.

She had never been an overly shy girl, but she had definitely not been brought up to share her deepest thoughts with anyone. She was smart enough to know not to be embarrassed about anything she did, but she knew that some things just stayed ripe if you held them for yourself. Especially if you made them yourself. She had, in the bottom drawer of her dresser, in between two pairs of panties, a small, yellowed piece of paper, folded over twice, which held the simple haiku

Light through the blinds and
The feel of your hair in my
Fingers, my rose drips.

It had always been her favorite poem, for reasons she could not begin to fathom. She had written it one day in high school, back when boys absolutely clamored to get near her, when she herself had trouble keeping her virginity from becoming a nuisance, like the clothes she desperately wanted to peel off so there could be nothing between the skins of two human beings. She had never shared the haiku with anyone, and no one but she even knew of its existence.

She lay back in the tub, closed her eyes, and slowly let herself be swayed by the gentle current within her own world.

Sometimes, she began with a fantasy. She had many daydreams of the normal, guttural sort (the new bagboy at the grocers was delicious, as unromantic as it sounded), but sometimes she thought of different, more esoteric things. (These were the most sensuous, and by far the most vivid.) This time, she pictured herself in front of an open window, on thirdthrd story of a southern mansion she had always dreamed of owning. She was naked, her long black hair flowing down to the small of her back as she stretched her arms out and felt the wind of a cool summer breeze blow against her body. She felt her thighs begin to sweat, both with normal perspiration and also with the heat growing between them. She saw herself close her eyes as four, ten, a hundred dark hands crept around her body, touching her in places both intimate and seemingly innocent. Her hands crept lower in the bathtub as she saw herself lifted up, her legs being spread, and the hands slowly, gently caressing every part of her body. She felt her nipples harden as she sunk lower, feeling that slightly heavier than air feeling of being fully enveloped in sweet smelling and hot water. She felt herself relax in every muscle.

As her fantasy turned, she began to tense up, more and more anxious of the coming rush. She now saw herself sitting in the bathtub she now inhabited, only now her hair was being stroked and rinsed by her husband. (This was an actual memory; she had come home from a long day at work on her birthday to find he had scattered rose petals all over her bathroom, lit what seemed to be hundreds of candles, and run a hot bath for her. The memory itself was a good one, as he had been a good husband then and forever. It was an erotic one, because she could not remember a time when every nerve in her body had seemed so exposed, when the slightest feel of his breath against her neck had brought her so close to the rush she felt on her own.)

She suddenly had a vision of herself on horseback, wearing only silk negligee, riding on the beach in a rainstorm. She saw her thighs, taut with muscle, heaving upon the back of the black stallion she rode. She saw and smelled her hair as it whipped behind her. She felt (almost a glimpse) of the sweat between her thighs, and she moaned.

Then, without warning, came the rush.

She felt herself leave her body, all conscious thought forgotten, and felt the kisses of her muse. A thousand sense memories flooded her (the smell of cookies in her grandmother's kitchen, the sound of her husband's quiet snores, the feel of silk stockings as they are being pulled on) and, with these, a thousand things she could never put into words. She felt every inch of her body tighten. And then it was gone.

She watched lazily as the waves in the water slowly receded. She placed her hands on either side of her, and her mind became quiet again. When she realized from her slow breaths that she was falling asleep, she drained he water from the bathtub, stood up shakily, and stepped out.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Customer Service Out The Ass

You ever have that moment where you totally lose all customer service? Where, either from being tired or exasperated from work, you totally lose all tone in your voice, and you kinda give everyone the "Youre an idiot" vibe? Thats what I got right now. This chick from the Art department called and the following occurred.

Art CHick: Hi Chris! Theres this one grad file that has had a bunch of problems, and the girl cant register.
Me: Is there a hold on there?
AC: Well, see, its been put on hold for a lot of things. THe last thing I heard was that yall were missing a transcript.
Me: Well, Ill just look her up....
AC: And I was just talking to Brandon, and Ive talked with Lamesa, so Id really like to get this taken care of.
Me: Well, wait. Did they say they would take the hold off?
Ac: The hold IS off.
Me: Then whats the prob, as we say?
Ac: We lost the Grad File.
Me: Did Brandon or Lamesa resend it?
AC: Yes.
Me: Well, itll take, you know, as long as it takes the mail room to come and get it....
Ac: They resent it last month.
Me: Oh! And its still not there! Well, Ill resend it...
Ac: I have it right here.
Me: ...
Ac: So what do I do with it now?
Me: ....What do you mean?
Ac: We have the packet, now what do I do with it?
Me: Um, Im not sure. We always leave that up to the department...
Ac: Well, we normally send it to the grad department. Should I do that?
Me: (lonesome sound of a gunshot, dampened by the Gwar-like sound of Hell's orchestra opening up before me with a seat saved for me in the viola section, but not first chair, oh no, that would be too good, that really IS hell, being a viola stuck in third chair my ENTIRE HIGH SCHOOL CAREER that stupid bitch wasnt as good as I was she picked her nose and joined the navy dated a real JERK junior year and kinda nice guy senior year and nice guys finish last and....etc)

This reminds me of all those comments you have when you are asked stupid questions.

Moron from Teacher Education Department: Chris, Im having trouble pulling up my portal account.
Chris: Am I the fucking help desk?

Etc.



Remember Gwar?

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Your IQ Is 120

Your Logical Intelligence is Average
Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius
Your Mathematical Intelligence is Genius
Your General Knowledge is Exceptional





Your Irish Name Is...








Peregrine MacSween



Good god, Im a hottie

Your Mood Ring is Purple

Sensual
Clear mind
Purpose is known

Friday, August 05, 2005

Like a good scary story?

http://www.scifi.com/cityofdreams/episode05/episode05.html

This is the best, most original scary story I have heard in a long time. If you listen (and I demand you to), stick with it. It gets better. I am toally serious when I say it is the most fun experience Ive had on a non interactive website to date.

Frizzle-Dizzle

Well, its another Friday. As much as Im sure weve all said this, I swear, I could live EVERYDAY as a friday and working orientation.

Indeed, I worked freshman orientation yesterday. We had about 225 people show up, (at least while I was there), and for the most part, they were pretty chill and good enough people. There were a few funny things though.

*When a girl told me that her last name I was Williams, I gave her a cocked eyebrow and said, "I dont know, sounds made up...." She got an exasperated look on her face and said "WILLIAMS sounds MADE UP!?" I paused briefly, looked at her, and said "I was joking."

*A girl came back to our table from trying to set up her email account, saying that "We had done something wrong with her name." We showed her what we had on our list, to which she got very aggravated, and said "Guh! YOU MISSPELLED IT! I dont know why this is so hard! Its OSTDDNDSDHSKJCBNJCWXXXX." (all said in a rapid fire that I couldnt have followed if it were "Jones").

*At around 8:45, a gnat started buzzing around my face, the results of which pretty much cemented my position as "that High Functioning Retard who works in student records".

*Two kids came in separately, one a boy, one a girl, both with their mothers. She was cute, in that "funny girl" way, and he was, I dont know, a boy. When they saw each other, the exchange was like this:
(girl notices boy)
"Hey, dont we know each other?"
"...Gina?"
"Brian!"
(both)"Hey!"
(the mothers notice the exchange)
"And who is this, Brian?"
"This is Gina, we went to elementary and junior high together."(boy has the "bored, high school 'DUDE' thing going now, while the girl has the "funny girl, but shyly gazes adoringly at boy when he isnt looking" thing)
"Oh how great! And now you both go to TWU!"
(both kids) "Yeah."
"So are you staying at the dorm?"

I had to restrain myself from applauding and saying, loudly, "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaah! They're gonna be having sex in NO TIME! WOOHOO! Giggidy! Thats HOT!"

Oh, to be a freshman.

So, today I sit back at work. Work work. Sucky work. "Im Five Seconds From Blowing My Brains Out" work. Huzzah. There is nothing Id like better than to go sit on a COOL porch somewhere in a comfy lawn chair with a mint julep (or some other such nonsense) and my new copy of The Batman Handbook:The Ultimate Training Manual. Except maybe hang out with friends, or my beloved angel in Florida. Hmm.

Soon enough, my fiends (not a typo).

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

I never had a Bar Mitzvah

So today I was thinking about that movie, (which I will be watching tonight, prolly), and thinking about my dream acting role (something funny, but sad, with a big knockdown, dragout, crying scene). You know that feeling you have when you are crying, and you sob so hard, and its like like you are all cried out, but you still have more crying to do? Like you cant possibly cry hard enough?

It occurred to me that I havent had that feeling in years. Literally years. I guess it means I havent had anything to cry about like that for years, which is a good thing, but its kinda sad, because I feel like I have years worth of crying built up. It sits on my heart like the stress of work sits in my shoulder muscles.

Hmmm. It makes me wonder if this is how its supposed to be, for men, or adults, or something. Granted, I dont wanna be Jimmy Swaggert, always in tears for Jesus, or anything. But when did we reach the age that we just never cry anymore? I mean, I cry at movies, or at a particularly sad book, or sometimes I even shed a tear for a breakup or something. But I havent really really cried in a long time. Does this mean I never will, really, again?

(knocking on wood, wanting NO REASON to cry.)

On a side note, I dont know if yall have noticed, but since I started dating Mary, I have so much more to blog about.

THE MOST ROMANTIC QUOTE EVER

In Moonlight Mile, Jake Gyllenhall plays Joe Nast, a young man who's fiance has just been killed. After the funeral, he stays with her parents, and while they all grieve, and are drawn into the legal battle surrounding her death, Joe meets a new love. Its very sad, Im told, but upbeat to an extent. (Isnt it funny how thats totally possible?)

Anyhow, this monologue is given by the dead fiance's mother (Susan Surandon) (the dad is Dustin Hoffman!) to Joe, talking about what she wants of him now that her daughter is gone.

When I go to bed at night I do 4 things. I drop my robe, slide under the sheets, turn on my left side and stick out my ass. That's it. That's the signal. I just - I back it right up there because I know when I do, no matter how cold the damn thing is, no matter how difficult it might feel, no matter how desperately we want to kill each other it's gonna be met by this warm body on the other side that's gonna hold it. Two arms that... wrap around, pull me out of my head, quiet the voices, save me from myself... without ever having to ask. Every night, 31 years. Every night there's my ass and every night... he never lets me down.

You find your home, and it may not be what you thought - you know; colour's off, style's wrong... but there it is anyway and to hell with you if you can't take a joke.

You find your home. Ben's mine.

QUOTES

1.
They're escaping under cover of afternoon in the largest car in the county!

2.
You're 32 years old, and you've achieved nothing. Jesus Christ was dead and alive again by 33. You better get crackin'.

3.
You know, in a situation like this, there's a high potentiality for the common motherfucker to bitch out.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

My Wit

Man, ain't it great to be on the smart side of a conversation every once in a while?

Copy and Paste of a convo had today between a coworker and I over yahoo messenger:

NC:I used to have an english teacher who called me a "silly hilly billy"
Andrea : did you sleep with her?
NC : we're talking about ME in Junior High, not YOU in PRESCHOOL
NC : ZING!
Andrea : now that wasn't nice
NC: ...
NC:...I said ZING, didnt I?
Andrea : i'm sorry you couldn't get laid
Andrea : lol
NC : yeah, Im really sorry I couldnt get laid in junior high too
Andrea : hmmm
Andrea : you know, i dont' have sex a lot, i just really enjoy it when i do
NC: ", was quoted Andrea from an August 1989 Denton junior high school paper.
NC : ZING!
NC : man, im hot today
Andrea : glad someone thinks so
Andrea : ZING

I guess we all get it in the end.

Aint NO WAY y'all will get these

1.
SID 6.7: Hey buddy! How's the wife and kid? Still dead, huh?

2.
Delbert McClintock: There ain't no spiders here.
Collins: Look! There's a giant spider web over there in the corner.
Delbert McClintock: Well yes, a spider web would reveal an arachnid presence.

3.
"Oh, I nearly forgot. Here, your hat."
"The hat, it fits!"
"My son! Now, you are a mouse."

Monday, August 01, 2005

ALMOST FORGOT!

Your quotes for the day.

1.
"He's plastered!"
"So are some of the finest erections in Europe...."

2.
"Good afternoon. If you and your undershirt will take two paces backwards, I could enter this dwelling. "

3. And especially easy...
"Honey! C'mon over here, Sugar-buns. This machine just called me an asshole!"

Aww, Jesus, Its Monday

So, back we all go to work. I have told several of you that lately, I have been feeling childishly paranoid at work. It seems like there has been a LOT of shit goin down lately, and I always seem to be involved. My paranoia is totally not the fear of losing my job, but just the feeling of "Hey, why is everybody picking on me?"

A good example is something that happened Friday. I worked trsfer orientation on Friday, where we go check everyone in, take their transcripts and analyze them, and then fax them to Academic Advising. (we only happened to have 4 transcripts this time, so not that much work needed to be done) So we get in, and I ask my coworker who is holding the transcripts if she would like to divvy them up for evaluation. She says, "No, don't be silly, there are only like 4. You know what you could do, though? Could you fax these off right now?" I ask, "But don't they have to be evaluated BEFORE we fax them?" "No." So, I go to fax them, make up a cover sheet and all, and before I can send them, another coworker (who has worked here FOREVER) says, "Hey, you have to evaluate those first!" I take them back into the initial person who had them, and tell her that they DO need to be evaluated. SHe looks at me for a minute, then says "Well? Am I supposed to do it?" Now, I don't really talk about myself like I have a high self esteem level, but I am actually pretty smart. Was it not obvious that I knew this was a bid for me to do work and her to get credit for it? Or for her to at least get credit for offering to do it?

Catpants has a theory that the fact that Im the only straight, non-suck up male probably has something to do with the occurrences that have been....well, occurring. Also, the fact that rebellious though I am, I generally try to have a good attitude at work, so people may see me as sort of a doormat. Well, they are in for a big surprise. As I said, I don't speak overly highly of myself, but I aint no fool.

God, Fuck these people! (Thats not really a command.) Im SO ready to haul up stakes and never see this place from the inside again. Even though its the best job Ive had thus far. Even though I have a COUPLE (literally) of friends here (besides my blog readers anyway) who I will miss. Even though I will miss walking in everyday to a bunch of morons who blame their own annoying habits on the fact that they havent quite "figured out" birth control.