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What was to be a holiday gift for all of you, I had planned on posting an hour-by-hour recap of the most mundane details of my life on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but, of course, my lack of motivation stopped me from even making such a promise in the first place. Speaking of New Year's resolutions ... what? Do you really think I have any? Here, have some pictures. 
  Things I am still waiting for: Flying cars. Slave robots like the one in Rocky 4. Rocky 6. Nuclear winter. The hijacking of a plane on which I am a passenger. Millions of dollars. Dinosaur resurrection. Civil War II. Revolutionary War II (in which, of course, the Americans fight to be ruled by the British) Good music. Brain chip. Pizza with doughnuts (trust me ... there are SOME cases in which this is desperately needed) My novel to write itself when I am not looking. Your mom. I bow down to excellent weblogs. Belle de Jour in one part Sometimes, after watching a person for a period of time, and listening to how they speak, and seeing how they conduct themselves on a daily basis, and never talking to them, I begin to like this person and think they are the coolest thing since ... something cool. Then, finally, I speak to that person, and, in fact, they are nothing like what I previously thought when I didn't know them. People I don't know have NEVER lived up to my high expectations of them. It's sad really. Perhaps this is why my expectations of most people are so low. For some reason, the TV listings just seemed extra funny today. No, I'm not stoned, damn it.  P.S. Who the hell gives Die Hard 2 three stars? I mean, I like the movie and all, but three stars? I remember looking at a TV Guide many years back seeing that it only gave White Fang two stars. I was so pissed, and still am to this day. Die Hard deserves two stars. White Fang, while sappy and for little kids, deserves three fucking stars, whores! Running into people I knew from high school is probably my biggest fear in life right now. There are three types of these people. 1) There are the people you knew really well ... who you need to stop and talk to and ask questions about their lives (from what you knew about them 4 years ago) and maybe even exchange phone numbers with the promise of meeting up in the future (which will definitely never happen). 2) There are the people you never knew personally but recognize from your school. These people are the easiest to avoid, because you don't feel bad about snubbing them, and chances are pretty good they are trying to avoid you as well. In the event that you make eye contact, you have the option of pretending you dont recognize them and looking away, or giving a slight head nod, or simply grinning slightly with your lips and walking away. There really is no wrong way to deal with these people. They are meaningless. But seeing them is still painful. 3) The absolute worst people are the ones who fall between the two said categories. These are the people who you knew slightly and, at one time or another, had at least one meaningful conversation with. Still, you may not have talked to this person since ninth grade, but for some reason you both feel compelled to say SOMETHING to each other, even if there is nothing at all to say ... and, indeed, there never is. "Hey, how are you, what are you up to, what school did you go to again?" And that's it. There is the brief, yet always awkward silence that then follows, meaing the conversation is officially over. "Well, I hope to see you again sometime!" or "See you soon!" or "Give me a call sometime." Whatever you say at this point it just a lie, and you both know it, but somehow this does not relieve any awkwardness. Once you're done with the conversation, you simultaneously feel the relief of getting away, and the pain of worrying if you had said the right things. Thankfully, the latter feeling lasts about 2 minutes. I despise running into these people so much that I consciously look out for them anytime I go into public. This increases my chances of heading in the opposite direction before they ever see me. Then again, maybe I'm just a socially paranoid freak. Tonight, I managed to watch myself on my cell phone, as I moved around in front of my computer's webcam. And while I have not yet figured out a practical use for this feature, I was amazed by it nonetheless. Sometimes I think no one in this world is as obsessed with the past as I am. This is not to say that I don't think about the future. In fact, I think about it all the time. The present, however, barely ever seems significant ... unless it was 3 minutes ago. It's nice to see how people are coming to Munchies these days. I hope these people found what they're looking for.  
We're opening up a whole new kind of tastelessness in these munchies. 1:48 PM After going sledding last night for the first time in about 3 or 4 years, I have determined the following: a) I am old. b) I am out of shape. c) I am still the meanest toboggan surfer there ever was. Five years ago, a friend of mine told me he had the sudden urge to throw an unopened can of soda at the back of some lady's head, not because he didn't like her, but because the sudden idea struck him as being appropriate. Since then, almost every person I have ever met, I have imagined throwing a can of soda against the back of their head. Walking downstairs for the first time today, I was a bit surprised to find two pictures of Brianne Christian, taken in 7th grade, sitting on the bottom step. My mother, completely oblivious to what I say in these posts, had found them in the pocket of a coat I wore during middle school that she was throwing away. I do not remember taking the photos, nor do I remember ever bringing a camera to school. But there is no doubt in mind as to why I took them. There are several reasons why I feel I shouldn't post the pictures. Then again, I wouldn't want to deny my readers the details of my life, now would I? Here's one of them anyway. Without a scanner right now, I had to simply take a picture of the picture, but I tried not to crop out anything in the background because there is so much to it that makes it an amazing photo, in my opinion. 1)  Mother of God, NOOOOOO! Just kidding, Melissa. Actually, if my 'Hey, thanks' was what prompted that comment, I must admit those words practically came out of her mouth when I wrote them. 2) Being a strong supporter of senior citizenship, I figure I should no longer strain the eyes of my elderly readers. My tendency to talk to myself aloud is becoming more frequent, and therefore scary. The most common words spoken aloud to myself are FUCK YOU. I tend to say it a lot while I'm in the shower, in my car, or basically anywhere that I believe I am alone. The words are simply my way of yelling at someone or myself about a conversation I had or situation I was in anytime during the last few days ... or years. But more recently I find myself saying these words, or others, in less private of places. The bathroom at work, for instance, isn't safe unless you look under the stalls first, which unfortunately I forgot to do one day. Hopefully the person inside didn't peek through the crack to see who I was. Then again, if that person is anything like me, I'm sure they peeked. After all ... it's much easier to watch someone outside a stall from within, rather than vice-versa. Anyway, I'd rather not be neurotic, so if anyone has any suggestions as to how to shut me up, I'd greatly appreciate it. Hey, thanks! 12:18 AM Sometimes, that is, when I am listening to good music, I begin to think my life is much less interesting when I am not listening to good music. The problem here is that I have been waiting for good new music since about 1999. Am I looking in the wrong places? Most definitely. But when that one song comes along that I haven't heard before ... that one song out of about 1,000 ... nothing beats that. Nothing beats memories from 7th grade - rolling an abandoned car tire down a steep road and watching it smash into the front of someone's parked car - riding a bike as fast as possible through pitch black woods, trying to follow the voices along the path - taking the long way out to the buses just to catch a glimpse of Brianne Christian taking her coat out of her locker. I'm simply not capable of producing such emotions anymore. Life will always have its more vivid ... more memorable moments ... but to feel so strongly about the smallest things in life, those moments are gone. Then again, give me one good song, fast, slow, a bunch of noises, as long as it has some effect over me, even turning off the last light before going to sleep at night can seem just as meaningful as signing someone's 8th grade yearbook and saying goodbye to that person forever. As soon as the music stops, this will be a very regrettable post. Just in case you thought otherwise, my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they're like "It's better than yours." Damn right, it's better than yours; I can teach you, but I have to charge. |
Late night snacks. Bite-sized ramblings. Old-fashioned eats, served fresh daily. Open 24-7.  Other blogs Fireballs and Tsunami JeffreyDavis.net Mismatched Parentheses NimbleSixpence One Tortured Soul Palpably Inadequate Picnic, Lightning Pony Legs, Temporarily Supernouveau Wander Lust In my DVD player Archives June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 Other stuff Homestarrunner One Slime DeepDiscountDVD Olde English Sketch Comedy Live Music Archive Copy Army Copywriting Service Love & Radio This One Time Email me mmjunior / at / hotmail   
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