August 16th, 2004
August 10th, 2004
tea cake never had it so good
Tonight, Megan came with me to go downtown and try to make phone calls for the Bus Project. I say try because after an hour of hot, sweaty driving, a near head-on collision and something else to make it an even three, we arrived at the correct building and room only to find the Bus People mysteriously insubstantial. Resilient as ever, we took a "detour" down MLK and ended up near Reed College, discovering in the process a very decent Thai place. I hope Roddy likes Thai food. We also saw a rabid raccoon staggering down the next street, where only minutes before three little kids had played in complete ignorance of their impending doom. Sucks to get the hydrophobia when it's 104 out, that's all i can say. We knocked on the door of the nearest house to see if they wanted to call animal control or whatever, but the lady said the cops were too busy to come get a raccoon. Oh well.
Afterwards, we went to Rimsky's to drown our sorry of not finding the phone bank in chocolate and whipped cream. After being hit on by the gay waiter ("You two get comfy and I'll be back to harass you in a minute!"), I think I will only go back to rimsky's with a large group or much later at night when it is more crowded. I've never seen the place so empty as at 8pm. The heads- they stare at you.
No updates for a while. I leave tomorrow morning for Crater Lake and the Crater Lake Marathon. I'm still not sure whether i will keep this site when i leave for college. I may retire it forever, as a shrine to myself.
August 9th, 2004
The Reggae/Reefer Conundrum
This week, we mourn the passing of funk singer Rick James, who died of natural causes in his home on wednesday. In celebration of the colorful life of Mr. James, I have "Super Freak" spinning on the Juke today. You may have noticed that the bass riff for Super Freak is identical to the line in MC Hammer's "Can't Touch This." This is because he borrowed it when the two collaborated on the chart-topping R&B hit. Mr. James, I salute you.
Last night, I went with my family to see that symphony + michael allen harrison at the rose garden in washington park. It was good and all. I'm not a huge MAH fan, but i will admit that he is a very talented musician. Then, tonight, jen invited me to go back and see "Lumaria," a reggae band from p-town. They were thoroughly enjoyable, to be sure. It is interesting to note that despite common misperception, reggae and reefer are not mutually
exclusive inclusive and may still be enjoyed in the absence of the other. Reggae is a reminder that there is still hope out there for trombonists to get gigs. There is still hope.
After the concert, we went out for gelato. As a gelato virgin myself, i was amazed find just what an experience it was. It turns out that gelato is much like ice-cream, but awesomer. Read on. I had grapefruit-flavored gelato, because grapefruit anything generally kicks ass. I was not dissapointed. The intensity of grapefruit flavor nearly caused me to soil my undergarments and go running into the night. You would do well to expose yourself to some grapefruit gelato sometime and join the ranks of gelato enthusiasts of which i am now a part.
August 8th, 2004
i'm george bush, bitch!
Many things have occured even since my last update. For those unfortunate souls who missed PYJO at the Kennedy School last thursday, despair not. The Bones and Brew festival will be coming up and PYJO will be performing again on September 11th. Granted, it will be a slightly different band, as people such as myself will not be there largely due to college. The concert the other night was a blast. We finally outgrew the gymnasium, people being forced to stand in the back, nose to derriere. I hope, however, that we made it worth the discomfort - certainly it turned out to be an excellent run with volume a'plenty. Thanks to all the people who came and watched: that's what it's all about.
Yesterday, I took my last Bus Trip of the summer. After meeting at Grant High School, we rode The Bus down to Eugene. Before sending us off, portland mayoral candidate Jim Fransesconi gave some motivational words. Once we arrived in Eugene, we were met by the consignment of local busees, resulting in the largest group of canvassers I have ever witnessed. Among the speakers were Secretary of State Bill Bradbury, journalist personality Alan Siporan, and the three candidates we would be walking for: Bev Ficek, Flyod Prozanski and Dale Barnhart. I think there should be a law in oregon requiring you to pick a normal name if you run for public office. Anyway, I was assigned to Bev's campaign and spent the afternoon knocking on doors trying to convince people to vote for her for State Rep for Eugene. Also, I tried not to say "Fie-sek" or Fucek (i.e. entry of the gladiators). As per usual, some people were very receptive ("I don't care who she is. I'll vote for her as long as she's democratic") and some were not ("I don't care who she is. I don't vote for democrats"). One old lady thought I was a delivery boy from Sears, even though i was wearing a shirt that clealy stated "volunteer." I guess those guys at Sears are working for free now. Another man opened the door, turning out to be a different guy than who was supposed to live there. Either way, I was kind of bored because nobody had been home for several houses, so i gave him my pitch anyway and he seemed to imply that he would vote for Bev.
On the way home, I talked to a man who had met some other interesting characters as well. The first house he knocked at contained a happy drunk man and another contained an elderly women and her meandering, naked, 20-year-old, son.
After canvassing, we met at Cozmik Pizza in Eugene, and ate free pizza while listening to a local musical group. Also, Jan Elliot (writer and illustrator of the comic strip, Stone Soup) talked and gave us a little history of political cartoons, along with a Q&A afterward. Very enlightening.
I would highly advise everybody still in town on August 21st and/or August 28th to sign up for the next trip. It's a ton of fun, you're doing something valuable while sticking it to george bush one house at a time.
August 5th, 2004: PYJO Concert Tonite! "A Tribute to Count Basie: Basie, Live at the Sands". It's at the Kennedy School McMenenimans, on NE 33rd. 7pm, $3. Be there.
Cheap as free!
Are you still an AHS student? Would you like to get a leg up on the pile?
I have bags and bags of old notes, tests, assignments, projects and random humus from the last two years. These notes are free for the taking for whomever wants them. They are even roughly divided into subjects! It doesn't get any more easier than this, folks.
Advanced World Lit. (Hell)
If nobody wants these notes, I will burn them before I leave for college. Time is of the essence. Run, don't walk to my house and come unburden me whilst expanding your cranial nooks.
Some of my more observant readers may have noticed the innocuous countdown clock above, clicking off the seconds until the Crater Lake Marathon, in which I will be running. I have been training hard all summer, getting ripped and becoming increasingly sexier all in preparation for this momentous event. Now, I am searching within myself for the proper motivation to complete this task nobody has asked me to do and I would propose the following plan.
Each segment of the marathon is nicknamed something encouraging, such as Skull Head or Cloud Cap. I have decided to dedicate each of these segments to somebody I know, whose spirit will assist me as I run. Don't wait, you too can get on board and be part of this inpiring act of lunacy.
So yeah. I'm an eagle scout now apparently. Check out today's paper in the Willamette Weekly section for a little blurb about it. Higher up on the same page, see Roddy in full monochrome. Kudos, Roddy.
It's not often that I have a truly profound thought, but then again...sometimes it just happens. The other day was my dad's birthday, who happens to have been born in Austria. That got me thinking and I came to the realization that while everybody has only one birthday, you actually have two birthdates. Hear me out on this. Say, for example, that you were born in New York on July 20th, at 2am. At that precise moment in, say, Oregon, it was about 11pm, July 19th!. Your birthday is July 19th/20th! The question is, on which day do you celebrate your birthday? I'm sure most people would say that your birthday would be July 20th. But if you moved from New York to Oregon, shouldn't you change your date of birth? After all, in Oregon it was July 19th at the moment you were born, not July 20th. Depending on the time of day, your other birthday is either the day before your "real" birthday or the day after. These are just some of the things I think of in the absence of structured learning.
Speaking of birthdays, Happy Birthday to Zoe Bundy.
Sweaty all over.
When people think of Oregon, images of lush temperate forests of deciduous trees and various hydrophillic fauna come to mind. However, most of Oregon is actually desert (i.e. everything east of the Cascades). Why do you suppose they named a town "Boring?" Because that's what it is. It was to this unmerciful climate that I found myself and a couple buds travelling to for the last 5 days, the majority of which was spent in the unbelievable oasis that is the Steens Mountains. Beginning in the hamlet of Frenchglen (population 2), we drove about 20 miles to the Steens Campground, from which we entered the Little Blitzen Gorge. The gorge is a canyon that surrounds the aptly named Little Blitzen River, supplied by glacial melt. Glacier water, by the way, is delicious to drink and numbing to swim in. From the campground, we began our 3-day trek through Little Blitzen Gorge, up and over the mountain rim and back down Big Indian Gorge. Words cannot adequately emote how beautiful this place is. Even pictures do not do it justice (I will post some when I get to it). The Steens harbor an unbelievable array of plants, animals and insect, unspoilt by the mar of humanity except for a crappy, inconsistant dirt path that you don't really need anyway. It's hard to get lost when the only options are to go up river or down river. I think the only garbage we saw the whole trip was an ancient-looking rusty tin can and a couple of hats probably lifted off the unsuspecting heads of vacationers at the Lookout (more on that later). When you hike anywhere, especially in Eastern Oregon in the summer, you really realize how crucial water is. I probably drank at least 4 liters a day, refilling from the river. The sun was brutal and sunscreen was relatively innefectual, resulting in a wicked farmer's tan.
Anyway, the first full day took us up the Little Blitzen River (yes, named after the raindeer). We set up camp in a meadow at the end of the gorge at the head of a tolerably-sized waterfull. After so many miles of hiking, even a 50-lb pack feels like a hawk perched on your shoulders, digging its talons into your tortured shoulders. Being as we arrived early, we had several hours to kill, which we occupied by trying to swim in the river (the closest we really got was dunking ourselves and screaming like little girls about how cold it was. seriously, imagine a river full of ice-water and make it colder. It couldn't have melted before about 5 minutes prior.) and exploring the end of the canyon. Justin took a nap in his tent while Harris and I decided to climb up the south side of the rim, to see if it would be manageable with packs, being closer to our destination than the tamer north side. Along the climb, we found various freaky high-altitude plants, caves and lots of rocks. We actually ended up doing a little rock climbing as it got higher, but eventually we had to turn around, shut out by the forboding cliffs just shy of the top. Near the top, I was visited by a hummingbird, which took about 2 seconds to determine that my red t-shirt was not a nectar-filled food source, as it had probably supposed.
Day two took us up the north side of the canyon. This particular climb was accomplished at a breakneck pace of approximately 1/4 mile per 2 hours. Seriously folks, it was damn steep. Even the north side had some formidable rock formations we had to scramble up. Exhausted, we arrived at the rim and hitched a ride with some tourists driving to the peak. The top of the rim happens to be occupied by the Steens Loop Road, also known as the highest road in Oregon. Arriving at the look-out (also known as the hat thief - see above comment), we bid our transportation good-bye and started out for the summit, home to a radio tower and geological station (I believe). There, we ate lunch, gaping at the incredible view from the top. Considering how flat the rest of Eastern Oregon is, perhaps you can imagine just how far it is possible to see from there. Unfortunately, we saw no bighorn sheep, which is just about the biggest animal around those parts except maybe swarms of mosquitoes. Also, we could see the beautiful Wildhorse Lake (incidentally, we saw some wild horses too later. They were really healthy looking.) After lunch, we began the most treacherous leg of our journey, descending the rim into Big Indian Gorge. I have no picture documentation of this part because I was too busy concentrating on not breaking my neck. Most inexperienced people will take the downhill over the uphill anyday. Runners and hikers will tell you, however, that the uphill may be difficult and painful, but the downhill can be hellish. There was no discernable trail down the rim, leaving us to inch our way down slopes of sage brush, loose gravel and more rock formations (really, more like miniature cliffs). Loose gravel is also known as Skree, which, according to Paul, is the sound one makes while falling down a mountain. Omnomatopeia strikes again. Actually, the descent was doubly hard because there was another gorge after the first one (a false gorge). I don't know if that makes sense, but trust my assertation that it sucks. At one point during the descent, we had to lower our burdensome packs by ropes to avoid falling to our respective dooms. Somehow, we made it to the bottom and staggered about a mile to a mosquitoe-infested meadow, where we camped for the night.
The last day was a hot and long, but relatively uneventful hike out Big Indian Gorge and back to the truck. We went back to Frenchglen and acquired Sprite, then took a detour out to the Pete French Round Barn Historical Site. Folks, it's a fucking barn. And it's round. And it's filled with about 50,000,000 hungry mosquitoes that feed on the blood of gullible tourists. And there's a visitor center nearby where you can buy Round Barn shot glasses and Round Barn christmas ornaments and Round Barn oven mitts. We also stopped to see the town of Diamond, which apparently consists of not a damned thing. We proceeded on to the Crystal Crane Hot Springs, which was very cool. The natural hot springs is about 500 degrees, so they pump the water into a pond lowering it to a more moderate 180 degrees. They have a camp ground there, so we pitched our tents and waited for the sun to go down so we could go in the hot springs. I should point out that the water there is sulfur-water, which tastes like water with a hint of eggs. Delicious. That night was actually last night, so this morning we got up early enough to see the sun rise over the desert and started back for Portland by about 6:30. We listened to lots of country music in the car. Not because anybody particularly loves country music but because you really just have to when you're out the middle of the desert. It's not an option.
Well, I am tired and I think I shall go eat some more. I'll post some pictures later, when I have time.
today's segment brought to you by swiffer.
Today, I pretty much slept, ate, slept and ran. In that order. I'm not telling you this because I think you'll find it particularly fascinating, but because I'm feeling the increased pressure to report every nattling little detail of my otherwise trivial life due to the recent upsurgence of livejournalers. I remember the good old days when we used HTML code to make websites and there was none of this canned blog crap. We wrote code until our fingers bled like mice in a sausage factory just to bring you, gentle reader, fresh content everyday. And we liked it, damnit.
Here are some pics from paul and my 22 mile hike over mt. st. helens a little while ago. It's hard to take a bad picture of mt. st. helens. My favorites are 6 and 10.
these are big files, so if your internet hook-up can't handle it, I would suggest you go out and buy a faster modem.
sphere elevated pliable neoprene
I have discovered something truly amazing. I once thought the random words displayed at the end of spam emails were just that...random. Now, I am wiser.
turn and cough
Today marks the day I can cast ballots, buy knives and get credit cards. It also marks the day we were supposed to pull out of Iraq, but Bush seems to have a thing about doing stuff prematurely. Eh, it was probably for the better that we slipped out early - probably saved a few lives anyways.
Incidentally, Spiderman 2 kicks some serious ass. I think that's the first midnight showing I've ever been to. I seriously expected to see some dudes in spider man costumes and Dr. Oc get-ups, but alas none were to be spotted. Dr. Oc happens to be the nickname of a chemistry professor whose class I sat in on whilst visiting CWRU.
I went up to the snack counter to buy some candy. Essentially, the following sums up my experience.
Cashier girl: "Here's your miniscule bag of m&m's, that will be $3.25 please."
Cashier: "Thank you, enjoy your show."
Me: "Seriously? They show movies here? I was just buying groceries. What don't you do here?"
Cashier: "Well, we certainly don't rape you up the ass every time you buy a ticket or concessions. Oh wait, yes we do. Bend over."
Cashier: "We'll let you back into the theater, but you'll have to leave a pint of blood and wash the manager's SUV. With your tongue."
I learned a few things last night/this morning.
- Firstly, your contact lenses will never be comfortable when you wear them past 10pm.
- I am incapable of carrying on intelligent conversation in public anytime, but most especially when I'm temporarily blinded by said contacts. My apologies to all involved parties.
- The dealer always wins in blackjack.
get on the bus and walk
Holy crap, it's been busy. (that's the impersonal "it," as in "it's been raining") I've been quite happily learning 70% of a semester of calculus over the course of about 4 days, taking the mid-term and final consecutively. Seriously, it took me one year minus four days to do three units, then four days to do the other seven. I imagine my professor will be thrilled to find 31 pages of homework in her box. Oh well. Turns out calculus kicks ass. I never knew. Yo nunca sabe (that's a little inside joke, there).
After I finished my final at PSU yesterday, I was walking around the park blocks there, where they were having the Portland Arts Festival, and this guy started talking to me. It was something about FDR and acid and lord knows what else, but it took me about 10 seconds to guess that this was a LaRouche guy. They're worse than Hari Krishna, by a long shot. I've never talked to a LaRouche supporter without getting pissed off at some point. At the convention, one of them tried to tell me that classical music (meaning European classical music) was the only "real" music out there and that jazz, for example, was primitive and simplistic. They have this whole pseduo-intellectualism thing too. They're convinced everything is a conspiracy, that Darwin, Pythagoras and Newton were frauds and that the universe is actually experiencing "negatropism" (negative entropy, but I'm pretty sure he made that word up). The guy at PSU said that he read an article in "some magazine" ("Scientific American, I think?") that documented a fungus that actually became more ordered as it grew (thus, demonstrating negatropism). I asked him about the fungus a minute later and he was like, "naw, actually I made the fungus thing up." What the hell? Why am I supposed to believe anything you're telling me when you freely admit that you fabricated a story about fungus? He seemed unaware that entropy is only a tendency and that you can go against it with a little thing we like to call "Gibbs free energy." Still, I'm a big believer in entropy. That, and YCW theory.
Today, I went on a bus trip. A bus trip, that is, with the Oregon Bus Project. For those of you who did the MPNC, you'll remember the Bus Project as an assemblage of the convention's most dependable lunatics; advocates for the young, the uninformed and the mis-represented. All under the booming but benevolent voice of Jefferson Smith. I did my Eagle Project (Allison, I will pick up those pictures, I promise) for the Bus Project, but I also decided to check out these trips. At 10, this morning, we met at Grant High School and rode the Bus (yeah, that bus) out to Gresham. There, we canvassed for Laurie Monnes Anderson (for state senator), Jim Buck (for state representative) and Rob Harding (for speaker of the house). They're good people, I reccommend them. Laurie is a nurse. And Jim was the superintendant of the Gresham school district, where he helped start a special needs education program. A lot of really interesting people in Gresham. Or at least I'd imagine they're pretty interesting, not being home to talk to me. Still, we got around. Some people actually cared enough to tell me the burning issues on their mind (health care, meds, the war, etc.). Some of them just shook their heads and shut the door upon eyeing my clip board. But it was a worthwhile experience. If you ever feel the need to talk to complete strangers, advocating candidates about whom you have no more than 20 minutes of expertise, go do one of the bus trips. It's a good time. There are many opinionated, fascinating, enthusiastic, and opinionated people involved. They fed us lunch and there were a couple of guys with guitars at the "after party."
On an entirely different note, I just discovered I can pick up wireless internet from my bedroom. This was fairly surprising, as we do not have wireless internet. I think that's pretty comparable to discovering you have a secret tunnel to Disneyland in your basement. I'm not really sure where it's coming from, or how happy they're going to be if and when they dicover I'm sucking up their bandwidth posting innane stories on my website. Yay technology.
June 8, 2004. 3:15
support your local garage band
Bach Invention #13 in A minor - JS' invention diagrammed for your diagrammatical pleasure.
Flirt - Free 2 CD Set in mp3 form. Indie rock at its best.
Intertwined: I Hope This Helps in Some Way - Another free indie CD in mp3 form.
OUR FRIEND THE SACKBUT...
May 31, 2004. 23:55
A long and winding road
Almost without ceremony, the year seems to have ended. I say "almost" because there was a ceremony or two, including that big one in a few days. Nevertheless, the year seems to have tapered to a gradual halt. Much like a train that has been gradually applying the breaks for four years before coming to a halt at the station of higher education. Except there's no conductor and it's one of those circus trains with holes in the ceiling for the giraffes. It's as if I just looked up and suddenly I need a visitor's pass if I want to go back in the building. But I guess that's a problem that solves itself, really.
I have to make a mental switch. Before, I thought of Grinnell as "they." Now, it's "we." That's pretty weird, considering "we" at this point really only refers to me and the corn. I've met a few people so far, but I haven't really "met" them. Just a noncommital handshake at the prospective student day back in April and a "how do you do?". How many people that I "met" back then will actually end up as my peers? Hopefully not that one big guy who breathes really loud (it sounded like that deep breathing, almost snoring, that people make when they're sleeping). He seemed more interested in taking gender polls of the room and reporting back to me than listening to anything the speaker had to say.
It seems like heresy to say this, but I hope I can keep my brain at least somewhat engaged this summer. Every year, there's that awkward period in September while we re-learn how to form a coherent sentence and put our pants on properly. They say college is hard. I'm thinking it sure would be nice to spend that awkward period learning where the washing machines are rather than re-learning the ion charge for Chloride or how to spell "exemplifies." It's all about salvaging what I can mentally, while still playing as much frisbee as humanly possible.
May 22, 2004. 22:00
I guess the below picture could use some explanation. What you are seeing is the "bull's eye pattern" which is a series of concentric rings caused by laser light interferance. Basically, you just set up a laser, split the beam with a beam splitter and superimpose the beams on themselves on a wall. The farther away, the better. I did a demonstration for the class in the orchestra room and it worked wonderfully. Curtis manned the bass drum and you could see the ripples in the pattern. Or the spasmatic movements of the mirror bouncing around on the table from the sound vibrations. All in all, it worked great and I'm glad I opted not to make holograms. I'm very anti-cancer/death these days. Call me crazy.
May 19, 2004. 4:28
No sleep and no sleep make Ben a dull boy
I got this to work at about 3:30 this morning. Enjoy...
Clear your calendars now. Go see the fantasmic Aloha High School Jazz Band at the Rose Festival Jazz Band Classic right here at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall Saturday June 12. Trust me, your cat's grooming appointment can wait. You won't want to miss this. Tickets are on sale now, only $10. If you miss this, you will have nothing to talk about all summer.
May 12, 2004. 23:31
Today I learned that by tapping the wall of the social studies office with a common bathroom pass log, one can cause a temporary black out. Thanks to paul and curtis for helping restore the lights and thus saving my ass.
New WTSDBA: Coxswain. Thanks to anonymous contributor.
May 11, 2004. 20:24
it's all wrinkly and it smells like orange.
It feels so damn good to be done with my AP tests. Forever. That word has a nice ring to it..."forever." Of course, I'd bet money that ETS writes the MCAT's but that's not for a few more years yet. I would have had the same ambiguity about the the SAT's had you asked me in 7th or 8th grade, but I guess that's relativity for you. Highlights of today include finding an orange that's been withering in my cubby for several months and securing a scientific laser for my AP physics project. Oh yeah, there was an AP Chem test too. True to form, Mrs. Gupta's guidlines for the project were, in not so many words: "Think of a project and do it. And make a powerpoint presentation about it." Of course, more instructions will probably be forthcoming after the due date.
Motorcycles and Chernobyl
Donated bodies blown up by Army
Are you sitting home lonely on a Friday night?!?! Come to Music 'Till Midnight. Aloha High School Auditorium. $5 cover. Mild language, but should be fine for kids. 12th Ave. Hot Club will be there. They are damn good. So will various other personages the names of whom escape me! Also see John Mark, famed rudimental snare player who won state only one week ago! And Curtis (8pm), the famed flute player who will kick your ass if only you will go and listen! Also, I will be playing with the jazz band plus my state solo circa 10pm, so don't miss it! Find me at the show, and I will give you five dollars! (if you wash my car)
May 4, 2004. 1:01
That schnauzer is a bitch.
I promise to update my website once I have free minute (i.e. after AP tests). Honest. I have quite a lot to talk about, really. Like about how State rocked and about the latest BS theories we come up with in Physics. Seriously, you guys are missing out. Except for the only people who probably read this anyway probably aren't missing out on all that much. But I digress. I don't understand the context, but I would like to state that I am anti cock-stabbing. It's a simple choice, if you ask me. Do I cause myself immense and irreversible pain, or do I resist that temptation?? Then again, maybe I'm just against it for myself. Some people probably shouldn't be allowed to reproduce, and thus should be encouraged to perforate themselves willy-nilly. And if you'd ever seen somebody just go off perforating willy-nilly, you wouldn't be laughing. It's not fucking funny.
We need to set a date for the official paper burning. I'm not even kidding. We'll do burgers.
April 26, 2004. 15:20
Prom - wonderfully fun. Let's hear it for ventilation, folks.
Voter Drive - 64 new voters, rock on.
And now I am staying home sick on monday. I woke up again at 2:30, and I thought to myself, "man, it must be, like, 10 O'Clock." Hopefully 15 hours of sleep will be enough to resuscitate me.
No sleep + homework + prom + voter registration drive = Ben will die, very soon.
April 21, 2004. 20:22
A treatise on the practical applications of futility
It's scary how naturally crap like this just oozes out of me.
The Importance of Good Nutrition:
5. I believe that nutrition should be a prevalent thought in the mind of every individual. It is especially important for active persons to acquire the proper balance of nutrients, as it helps to maintain physical energy levels as well as facilitating good mental focus (very important for students). People who eat a well balanced diet - keeping unproductive foods that contain unnecessarily high levels of polyunsaturated fats and sugars to a minimum – will obviously be at a lower risk for disease and obesity, but will also feel better and more energized on a daily basis. In times when fast food has become an overarching force in society and convenience dictates lifestyle, people tend to assign a lower importance to the maintenance of their bodies. This is a self-destructive tendency for the nation, which has become increasingly obese and acquiescent, and will only be counteracted by increasing public perception and education of the value of adequate, if not proper, nutrition.
Before I leave for Iowa, here's the Voter Reg. Drive page, for anybody who's interested. If you want to change anything or sign up for anything, just email me and I'll help you out when I get back. Damn, I'm tired.
April 15, 2004. 00:38
I have a cab to catch in 2 hours
The Great Voter Registration Drive - '04
April 10, 2004. 23:04
Where are the Owls?
Yesterday, I had my first Hooters experience when I went with Mike and Co. for his 18th birthday. I say experience, because it's not just a restaurant to eat at, it's an experience. From the moment you walk in, you are greeted with unabashedly friendly bossoms, just pleased as punch that you chose their fine establishment for your dining needs. I guess most people don't really go for the food, though. Hell, I didn't even order anything (this vegetarian/kosher-for-passover thing can be hard sometimes), which might have been a problem had I not been in a party of ten.
I think somebody had a birthday approximately once every five minutes or so, a higher average than most restaurants. It was even the old quadraplegic in the wheelchair's birthday, lucky dog. I'm sure that if he could form coherant syllables with that machine that breathes for him, he would say that this was just exactly he wanted for his birthday...to be reminded how much it sucks not have command of his lower extremities.
I think most people would make a remark somewhere here about the degradation of it all and the decline of moral society. I'd have to say I agree with it being degrading, except I'm not talking about the waitresses. The way I see it, if you choose to work at a restaurant where the standard dress code is a cleavage-baring tank top and hot pants...well, you check your shame at the door. No, it's degrading to guys. I will use an anology to communicate my point. Let's say you're going out to hunt some deer, a solidly masculine venture, to no one's disagreement. Now let's say that instead of going out into the woods with a rifle and a compass...let's say that you go to a restaurant instead. And let's say the deer come over to your table, shoot themselves and grill themselves right there before falling into a bun on your plate. And they brought beer. Is that sporting? Hardly. Don't get me wrong...I appreciate a hot girl as much as the next guy, I even appreciate large numbers of them in high concentration. Still, I just can't shake that unmistakedly fake feeling to the whole thing. Essentially, Hooters is for horny 15 year-olds who can't get into Peeps yet. Lord knows why women agree to come there.
Afterwards, we went and saw Hellboy, which rocks fairly hard. The story-line didn't really flow flawlessly, but the monsters were bad-ass. Especially those hell-hound-squid-things and the collosal octopuses that chill in the clouds above apocalyptic earth. So no argument from me. They sure showed that Nazi clock-work-sand-bag-assasin when they shoved him into the pit of spikes. Hah. Bastard.
Horrible Site of The Day:
Further proof that anime, Harry Potter and excessive free time are a deadly combination...
April 7, 2004. 18:58
"We're losing the war on AIDS. And drugs. And poverty. And terror. But we sure took it to those Nazis. Man, those were the days."
--Glen Luther (The Onion)
Thanks to Jeanette for this one.
April 3, 2004. 22:40
Yesterday, we went to Warner Pacific, a little private Christian School no one has heard of. I took a much-needed nap in the pews of the chapel where the bands were performing. If all churches are this comfortable, I may need to start rethinking my theological ventures. It was sort of a weird day. We left several people's music home in addition to Sid, who nobody noticed was missing until we got there, amazingly. While waiting to perform, Paul, Andrew, John Mark and I went over to shoot rats at the dump...or hang out by the dumpsters, rather. Given the prevalent lack of focus throughout, we did perform fairly decently and even sight read well. After we got back, I went over and played frisbee golf at Cooper Mt. with Curtis, Pat, Robert and TJ. I managed not to hit Pat in the back of the head, and only lost by about 10 strokes or so. Today, I did some history, ate some Baja Fresh, did some health, played some more frisbee, and learned how to play "Do Right" by Jimmie's Chicken Shack. I'm fairly retarded (seriously, I was dropped on the head as a child) when it comes to guitar, so that was no small feat and my fingers are presently comfortably numb.
April 2, 2004. 00:22
Protest-Records.com...it's good stuff.
Actforchange.com celebrates April Fools:
Draft the Bush Twins First!
Appoint Mayor McCheese as Assistant Secretary of Manufacturing
Starbucks, "Tall" is not Small
Hands Off Halliburton!
April 1, 2004. 00:30
have I got something for you
Hey loyal fans-
I found this totally sweet website that will pay you cash for your irreplacable organs. And you don't have to pay tax on it, because it's all under the table.
Check it out.
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