The old Blog

This is our old Blog.

Keith and I dont blog anymore because we don't work together. In fact, we have not worked together for almost 4 years. It's really interesting to think of the things that have transpired in the world, and in our lives over the last 4 years. We elected a Black president. We elected the first woman speaker of the house. We navigated through (those of us who were responsible with our finances) the worst Recession in 80 years.

We - as Americans - have also lost our first love...reading this blog. So stay tuned, folks...Keith and I might be blogging again with a new format. Granted we both have professional jobs now, and discretion has become the better part of valor (or ardor from blog to blog) in our professional lives. But there is a good chance you MAY see blogs here soon. I will toss it over to Keith for comment...

New for 2008

A Post!

Also, this survey. I've been messing around with Survey Monkey, and I'm trying to collect some data from a hack job survey I put together. Read it and love it people.

Andrew

This is my basic job search survey. Please take it!

Where IS Waffles, indeed!

Ok gang,

This site is also going to have to double as the official "Where's Waffles Headquarters". Since I don't have time to simultaneously run 3 failing blogs, settling for two failing blogs (but one that has dual purposes) is alright with me. Just so long as it's ok with Keith. Has anyone seen Waffles? Post your Waffles stories, pictures, comments, or (most desirably) sitings of Waffles here! Good luck and Godspeed!

-Andrew

Dealing with Ambiguity

Yesterday I started an internship in the Human Resources department of a medium sized company. So far I am, not exactly sure what I'm supposed to do with my time. I've been doing a lot of reading about workplace safety and lean manufacturing. Does anybody else have any ideas of what to do with the ambiguity?

I* fought the law, and the law won!

*someone else

This post is long overdue.

There's nothing like the thrill of the chase. Think about it: chasing your first love, watching the car chase in the Bourne Identity, chasing victory and achievement...they're all a thrill! I was able to live out one of my favorite chase opportunities just around 20 minutes ago as I was driving out of lovely Boone, North Carolina. What am I talking about? PO-LICE CHASE!!!

Ok to be perfectly honest this wasn't the screech-vroom-brake-crush police chase that you watch on cops. Oh no, my friends, this was better-and let Papa Andrew tell you why.

I was heading out of town to check on Carly's sister Cassie's cat. Link is a cat like no other. He fetches, he whistles like a bird, and I swear by all thing bright and beautiful that the cat can understand what I'm saying to him. He talks back to me! But why I talk to cats is not that this story is about, so focus with me. I'm heading out of town and had just stopped to get some gas. As I was pulling out of the gas station into the right lane, some douchebag comes whizzing by me in the left lane as if to say "WHY DON'T YOU PULL OUT SLOWER NEXT TIME!??!"** I muttered something under my breath about whippersnappers and their white neosatvaliers, and proceeded to speed up to show him what I was made of!

My little testoserone boost ended abruptly about 100 yards down the road when I came upon a stoplight in the process of turning from yellow to red. As a polite citizen, I slowed down and stopped. My friend in the satneovalier, who was a little ways ahead of me, almost stopped. I saw him tap his breaks, and instantly I could read his hesitant tail lights like morse code. He was thinking, "Oh man, there's no way I'm going to be able to get through this light, but stopping now would mean decelerating from 60 miles per hour to a dead stop within about 15 yards!" He wasn't going to stop for this one, but rather he let off his brake pad and pumped the gas as his car sped under the already red light. I just sat there at the light and thought "Man, if a cop were here, this guy would be toast."

Almost on cue, my head pans to the right to see who was stopped next to me. Bingo, it's a cop.

Here I was, a law abiding citizen, sitting patiently for him to turn out onto the road. Here he was, a ball busting cop, with his left turn signal on like he was going to head back into town to break up a reported "wrong-way-down-a-one-way-street" phone in. The light turned green for him, but he didn't move. I think it was at this point that the cop and I had a brief moment of unspoken communication:

Cop: Dang, I saw that...
Me: Heck yes you saw that! Giddie-yap!!
Cop: I don't know...my left turn signal is on...err"
Me: Hey cop! Every time I step out of line, I GET SMACKED! My car gets towed when I'm only illegally parked for half an hour. I get busted for speeding on new year's day. I get pulled over for dropping off my girlfriend AT HER OWN APARTMENT. Someone else NEEDS to get in trouble in this town, and plus I'll be right behind you as you track this guy down!
Cop: I love the chase too! Come on Andrew!

And just like that I see the cop take his signal off and go tearing down the road after this guy. At this point I'm so excited I just want to run the red light to see what happens. The light turns green and I explode off the line like I'm Prefontaine in the form of a car. I am going to be the first one in line to watch some cop bust a guy, and he doesn't even know it's coming! Yes!! I've often wondered what cops do before they pull someone over, and tailing this cop while he tailed this dude was pure bliss. It was like watching the discovery channel, when you see a lion stalking in the scrubgrass waiting to pounce on a carne asada steak burrito! The guy in the satneovalier kept flying down the road and had no idea a cop was behind him.

I hugged every corner of that mountain road just to stay within sight of this beat walker getting ready to make a bust. I craned my neck around every turn in anticipation of seeing the reds and blues hang over that pursing police vehicle. As I got closer and closer to Cassie's house my hopes of seeing a cop bust a fool got slimmer and slimmer. "I can't have come this far not to see this!!!!!" I thought. But then, right before my turn.

Bingo! Blueberries and cherries baby, it was all over.

So this dude gets pulled over for running a red light and probably speeding too. And I got to see it first hand! I think I derived a sense of relief to know that it was not me sitting in that car, all ashen and riddled with self loathing for running that light. I also derived a sense of shared pain with the poor sap in the car. Lord knows I've gotten hammered for smaller stuff than that, and every time I've done something that I can get pulled over for I think, "I wonder if that's a cop behind me?" But the sense of sympathy soon faded at the realization of what had just transpired: I got to see a little chase, and who doesn't love a good chase every now and then?



**I can neither confirm nor deny that I've done this very same thing. Hmm

France is always trying to rain on my parade

Andrew here.

It's been now a month and a half since someone posted here. I've tried to goad Keith into writing, but he seems to be in a state of quiet futility with our good, ol' blog. It's hard to get motivated to write a bunch of stuff when you're super busy all the time, or when you don't have the internet, or when your post-shower warmness doesn't stick around long enough to keep you warm all day. It's also hard to drop blogs about stuff that isn't on the whole, very interesting. So today, just as one who tries to start a camp fire using news paper has to quickly stuff sheet after sheet of paper in the fire in order to get a steady burn, I'm going to hit you all with some 'mini-blogs' that I've thought about writing before, but would have taken too much time and energy (and been relatively boring). That was a long sentence. But unlike Billy Joel , I WILL start THIS fire!!!

Firestarter One: France!! I was in the bar yesterday ordering some awesome chicago style pizza, and I heard some dude ripping on France. I guess he had just come back from being abroad, and was relaying his adventures to his friends. The only snippet I caught from his conversation from across the bar was, "I F*&$ing HATE FRENCHIES!!!" I silently nodded his way in approval. Today, I learn the Scientists in France have released a report about global warming. They have now proven the earth's core temperature is rising, and within a hundred years the earth will experience the most devastating meteorilogical cataclysm since the ice age: winter is going to be shorter. I was like "ARE YOU KDDING ME?! THIS IS AN ANSWER TO PRAYER, NOT A CAUSE FOR ALARM!!!!" As you all know I hate winter, so to hear the report from these scientists that in 100 years the earth might be 11 degrees Ferenheight warmer was music to my ears. Apparently not everyone is as pumped up about global warming though.

So in the report the French scientists make a note about how we can stop the global warming nightmare...oh wait, no they don't. Of course they don't!! No one's got a solution to global warming, of course. The fact of the matter is 6.X billion people inhabit this earth, which in itself is enough to cause ridiculously high carbon dioxde levels. Couple that with the fact that we have to work, eat, live, move, and generally manipulate our environment in order to survive, and I think it's a wonder the earth isn't warmer! I love how these same scientists, who are well versed in talking about pre-historic climate shifts, ice ages, and the like now freak out about an 11degree temperature increase. These dang French don't know how good they have it! Think about how all the dinosaurs (never forget!!) must have felt. I bet if you would have asked them how they would have liked an 11degree climate increase, they would have jumped up and down on their dinosaur legs with joy! "11 degrees vs. extinction?! Hooray for global warming!!" they would proclaim. Anyway, I thought it was perfect for some French scientists to whine over global warming then propose nothing to correct it. Viva la France!!

Firestarter Two: Speaking of Ice Ages, yesterday in North Carolina they were predicting the biggest snow/ice storm of the century. They had been talking for days about how we in North Carolina were going to get 5-6 inches of snow in the early afternoon, then get about a quarter inch of ice on top of that, and then have freezing rain all night. Boone, NC came to a halt yesterday. Schools closed down, skiiers unpacked their ski equipment, and salt trucks cruised up and down the street in anticipation of this winter maelstrom. Heck, even my college classes were canceled! I was under the impression (thanks GCC) that colleges never, ever closed. However one look at the forecast, and ASU closed up like something that closes up quickly. Surprisingly, I was really excited to see this storm. I figure a storm this bad, especially in lieu of global warming, had to be a rare sight in NC. I was looking forward to people freaking out, and falling down on the sidewalks, and taking their cars to the "Ride with Pride Car Wash" across the street to get all those inches of salt off their cars.

Anyone want to take a stab at how long it snowed yesterday? 3 hours? 8 hours? Try like 50 minutes. It snowed, stopped, the sun came out, and it got up to 40+ degrees. I was so bummed. That's the second time that has happened this winter. The first time it happened (a predicted winter catastrophe ends in a whimper), my friends and I left our conference in Sarasota, FL early just to avoid it. Of course there wasn't any precipitation then. So what I have come to devine is that people down here, sort of like Frenchies, like to make a big fuss about something that cannot control at all and overstate its impact on our lives. Maybe I actually live in France...

Firestarter Three: My new year's resolution is to put on a few pounds. Every time I say that to people they always ask the same exact question: "Why?!" Well people I've weighed the same for about the past 4 years. I've decided this year I'm going to bulk up and be huge. So far I've gained about 8 pounds. My grocery bill has shot through the roof, and now I'm hungry ALL the time. It's so weird. Anyway, that's about all I have to say about that. If this plan backfires on me, and I can't fit into any of my cadre of suits, though, I'm going to be one hot little potato (or a hot big potato).

Firestarter Four. Senator Hilary Rhodam-Clinton, or however you spell Rohdam (or Hillary for that matter). Wow...wow. I just saw a news report about a group of feminists who think she's too conservative, and that she's a war monger. This deluded group also claimed to be her core constituency. If a group of people who think that Mrs. Cliton has been too soft in her opposition to the war claims to be her constituency, image the people on the far left of her constituency. Yikes. I said it a long time ago, and I'll say it again, if Hillary wins the presidency I'm emigrating. Carly and I have talked this over, and she's cool with it (I think).

Firestarter Five: I guess Mrs. Clinton did initially vote for the war and has voted to send more troops, money, arms, etc. to Iraq, which could make her vocal protest of the war somewhat of a hypocrisy. Maybe the Dems are going to churn out another flip flopper. By the way, the highlight of this news story with the crazy feminists was that this one girl said that the democrats couldn't afford to have "another flip flopper" nominated to run for President. "Uhh I voted for the war, but only after I didn't vote for the war"...sound familiar people?

Firestarter SIX!!!! Speaking of the Presidency, how sweet is the revelrie "Hail to the Chief"? I doubt there's been a better song written for a President, and you can take that to the banc.


Alright people I'm going to make some more coffee. Keep it real.

Again?!

New post on the other blog people. And it's serious* business.

go here soon!!!

Merry Christmas (again!)

Lowering your electricity bill the old fashioned way!

You wanted it? You got it!!

I told you last time that I was going to be publishing a running series on how to make life entertaining when you’re poor and in graduate school. If you’ll recall, the theme of part one was something like “Take Joy in Making Others Happy”: it doesn’t cost you anything, and it makes you feel good! The theme of the second in a cavalcade of awesome blogs is something akin to “Making Your Heating Bill Go Further.”

I was thinking about this topic the other day as I was scanning my electricity bill. For those of you living North of the Mason Dixon Line, down in the South a lot of the heating apparatuses for the winter run on electricity…not gas. It’s a blessing and a curse. So my electricity bill is getting higher and higher as winter rolls in, and I’m starting to have flashbacks about my nightmare apartment on Elm Street (search the archives here…the Elm St. Blogs are classics, people). I’d love to be able to turn my heat down, but if you know anything about me you know I hate to be cold. After reviewing my bill, which was starting to climb into nosebleed territory, I decided to chill out and take a shower.

Now, taking a shower in my apartment isn’t necessarily the greatest experience one can have. The water pressure is just one notch above “slow trickle”, and in order to get my shower “hot” I have to turn the “hot water” handle completely on, and sort of jimmy the “freezing water” handle a little bit to get an adequate amount of hot water. If I give the cold handle even a quarter turn, the cold water completely eclipses what little heat my water heater can produce. But what’s awesome about it is that the hot water kicks on right away and the cold water doesn’t start until about 3 minutes later. So on many occasions I’ve been in the shower thinking it was the right temperature, only to have my wonderfully warm shower turn into an ice bath. It’s as alarming as it sounds, let me tell you. The only good news here is that my landlord pays for the water heating element in my apartment, so thankfully that’s not part of my utility bill.

Since I can never really seem to get the temperature right in the shower, what I’ve started doing is just not turning on the cold water. I know what you’re thinking: “Andrew, that would probably make the shower dangerously warm…I don’t know if that’s a good idea”. Well, it does and it’s not. But while I was standing under scalding hot water the other evening, I realized that I could solve my lukewarm shower AND outlandish electricity bill ALL AT THE SAME TIME!!!! Think about this: When was the last time you were in a hot tub? Probably pretty recently. Hot tubs are great not only because you can relieve yourself in them and no one knows, but also because after about 20 minutes in the hot tub, you are REALLY hot. When you get out of the hot tub, do you instantly become cold (provided you’re not in a hot tub outside when the weather is terribly cold)? NO! Your core body temperature rises and you stay relatively warm for at least 20 more minutes.

This is the crux of my story people! I found out that by standing in a shower emitting dangerously hot water, my core body temperature was being raised! Consequently, whenever I got out of the shower I was pretty warm! If you have read the last few sentences and observed the inordinate number of exclamation points which I have used, you can get a sense for how excited all of this made me!!! What I am now starting to do is when I wake up in the morning, I turn my heat off. I quickly run to the shower and turn the “hot water” knob on. I then take a painful shower, but afterwards I’m able to get dressed, eat breakfast, and get out the door to class without being cold! It’s a miracle!!!! I won’t know how well my plan works until next month, but I’m sure it’s going to lower my electricity bill a little bit. That way, if I leave my heat off ALL day, whenever I come back to my apartment all I have to do is hop in the shower for about 10 minutes to get all roasty toasty, and then I won't mind the period of coldness where my apartment is starting to warm up. I think my idea is just shy of "genius" level, but somewhere above "legendary" status.

That's all for this installment of helpful tips for you struggling kids out there. Make sure you stay tuned for more insight, "learning by doing" life experiences, and an update on when you can catch Andrew in a town near you (i.e. maybe I'll get to see some of you rascals over Christmas).

Until then, Merry Christmas (not Haunakah or Kwanzaa)

"This one's on the house"

Hello friends!

I just wanted to drop by to make a re-appearance on the old faithful blog. I'm going to link this blog from my other blog so hopefully everyone will come over and read the genius that is "Keith and Andrew Fight Back!" Speaking of Keith, where is that kid anyway?! You make sure he comes back and blogs. But for now, take THIS!!!!!!




Back when I was in college the first time, I learned very quickly that just because something’s ‘on the house’ it does not automatically mean it’s a good thing. It could be a good thing, in the following examples:
1) You get a free beer from your favorite bartender (“Hey, Smith, it’s on the house”)
2) Someone does you a favor (“Don’t worry, Smith, there’s no charge”)

But consider:

3) Some 6’4” inebriated college senior startles you awake at 3 in the morning because he wants to jump into your bunk bed, cuddle, and then twist your nipple (“Smith! Smith, don’t worry, this is on the house I promise”).

When I think of the phrase “It’s on the house”, this is the scenario that comes to my mind. Welcome to my sophomore year of college, and while we’re here let me also introduce you to Foust, my senior suite-mate. Foust taught me a lot about life. He taught me that some people actually do get fired up about hockey. He taught me how to structure my scholastic priorities (“SMITH!!! 10 years from now are you going to want to say that you STUDIED all Wednesday night or that you got to hang out with FOUST at BENJAMIN’S?!!?!!). He also taught me the value of respecting people older than you (“SMITH!!! If we don’t get some food on the way home, I’m going TO KILL YOU!!!!”). And above all, Foust taught me how to make sure that when you’re going to do something to someone that they probably won’t enjoy, it’s best to preface your action with phrases like “Hey, this is going to be on the house”. It makes them feel better, I guess.

Fast forward now to, well, right now. For the better part of 4 years I’ve been slinging the phrase “It’s on the house” or “There’s no charge for that” around whenever I feel like doing something that someone isn’t going to like. At this point I say and don’t think about it. But lately it’s sort of been troubling me for two reasons:

1) I say it to people who can’t hear me.
2) I think it’s funny

Let me tell you whenBeing as that I live by myself, sometimes I forget that my road faces one of the busiest intersections in Boone, North Carolina. Every single day, at every single minute of the day the roar of traffic from the intersection of routes 421 and 105 fills my apartment. Since I live by myself, and since I don’t have anyone to tell me otherwise, sometimes I forget that when I’m changing my clothes, everyone outside can see me. In fact, not only can the people who are stopped in traffic look right into my window and see me, but the people at the car wash across the street can also see me. It’s great to be the center of attention all of the time, but I doubt that the people across the street who have just seen a flash of Andrew in his underwear feel the same. It’s amazing how desensitized I’ve become to it! Every morning I do my usual routine: wake up, open the blinds to see if it’s still raining, scratch my chest, yawn, stand there for a while, and then go get a shower. Inevitably, some guy in a car looks up at me and quickly turns away. Or sometimes the lady with her kids, who is washing her Ford Windstar is staring up at me all offended like. It’s usually when our eyes meet that I realize that I have no pants on, and that these people are probably none too happy for having seen me in my britches.

This is the entertaining part, people. Since I’ve become so used to being on display for everyone to see, what I usually do when people spot me is point at them, give them a little head nod and mouth the words “That’s on the house!” I usually get a big kick out of it, and chuckle to myself thinking “that person just got a free show…lucky”. It seriously happens all the time. I’m changing for class…BAM I’m spotted, and that’s on the house! I’m getting in the shower, WHAM how about THAT for a view and of course there’s no charge for that! I feel like I’m in the Red Light District in Amsterdam what with all these cars whizzing by and people gawking at me. But the main difference is there’s no charge at my house! It isn’t until about 5 minutes later that I realize how retarded I am (or “MR” or “special” or whatever the preferred nomenclature is these days). It really isn’t that funny, but it gets me every time.

So after years of incorporating Foust language into my vernacular, and after just 3 months of living in a one bedroom apartment, this is what I’ve resorted to: entertaining myself by making nonsensical quips to people who can’t hear me and who probably don’t want to see me either. I guess it’s all just as well…we have to entertain ourselves somehow. And in case you haven’t guessed by now, this is just ONE blog of MANY which will give you tips on how to entertain yourself if you are a poor graduate student living in a rural mountain town. Stay tuned, because there’s nowhere else to go from here but up.

And speaking of looking up, if you were driving by my apartment this morning…that one was on the house.

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming

I've been blogging about how horrible the South is. You've all read my opinion (probably five times since I'm so slow). But before finishing this series, something got my ire up again. I can't stand it. I know you all want to hear about what could take me twenty minutes at a Dairy Queen ... and still end up without CHOCOLATE FREAKING ICE CREAM!!!! Be patient kids. Very patient. I have another tale to tell. One that smacks of ...

JIBBS! Yes that's right, the rapper Jibbs, commonly referred to as, "Young Jibbs" so as not to be confused with the other widely known, "Old Jibbs." Give me a freaking break. Jibbs has decided to grace the musical world with a new, "hit" single. He shows off his musical prowess with his song, "Chain Hang Low."

I have a couple gripes about the song, past the first that it obviously sucks something terrible.

1.) The song's beat and chorus are off the old children's song, "Do your ears hang low?" If you want to establish some credibility, say I don't know, writing your own music, and then do a cover ... go for it. But to start your musical career with a sample that someone else did all the work for ... c'mon man! Forget you! That's so weak!

2.) The beat. I could have made this simplistic baby beat with a keyboard, a block of wood, and a spoon. Seriously. Give me a production room and five dollars. I'll top this one.

3.) Your name is YOUNG FREAKING JIBBS!

4.) The lyrics of this song. I know rap isn't all about the lyrics, but let's look at some quick excerpts. (These are off his website by the way ...) MY COMMENT IN CAPSLOCK!

"my chain hang
all it do iz blang blang,
have blue have red
like my diamonds gang bang
and don evn thank
we on tha same thing
charms so heavy they couldn' lift it till the crane came"


CHARMS SO HEAVY THEY COULDN' LIFT IT TILL THE CRANE CAME! WHAT THE HECK DOES THAT MEAN! HOW DOES YOUR NECK HOLD THIS CHAIN?!?!

"(chain)Yeah yeah yeah yeah
I'm so icy (do yo chain)
my trunk so heavy that my neck dont like me (do yo chain)"

MY NECK DON'T LIKE ME! I HATE YOU TOO!

"my music give u a black eye
cuz of the beating
they think i am a mutant
they way a boy iz beasting (chain chain chain chain)
i stay when n sometime u a call it cheating
yeah my boyz alwayz around
like iz a mee-ting"

I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START!!!!! THANKS FOR EXPLAINING WHY I HAVE A BLACK EYE. I GOT A BEATING FROM YOUR MUSIC. A MUTANT APPARENTLY IS BEASTING. I MISSED THAT IN GRADE SCHOOL. MY BOYZ ALWAYZ AROUND LIKE IZ A MEE-TING!!! WE FORGOT HOW TO SPELL MEETING APPARENTLY WITHOUT A DASH. I'M SO ANGRY MY HEART JUST EXPLODED I THINK!!!!!

FINALLY THE CHORUS

"(Do your chain hang low
do it wobble to da flo
do it shine n n the light
iz it platinum iz it gold
could u throw it ov'r ya shoulda
if ya hott it make ya cold
do your chain hang low)"

WE'RE DOING OK UNTIL IF YA HOTT IT MAKE YA' COLD. GRANTED YOU RIPPED OFF A CHILDREN'S SONG FOR THE BEAT OF YOUR CHORUS, BUT HOW DOES A CHAIN IF YA HOTT MAKE YA COLD?!?! PLUS EARLIER HE SAYS THE CHAIN HANGS 24 STINKING INCHES!!!!! HOW ARE YOU THROWING THAT OVER YOUR SHOULDER!

Anyway I'm so pissed that this song is on the radio. I can't believe it was produced. I can't believe people like it. Scratch that ... I'm ashamed for my country that people like this. It's a top four download on freaking iTunes now for like three days straight!!!! What is wrong with you people?!?! Go find a friend that has it, listen to it, and then punch them in the face for liking it!

That is all for now. I'm going to listen to some wholesome music!!!! Anything not by Young Jibbs!

2nd and 3rd Levels

The 2nd level, of Dante's Hell that is, would be not just entering the South, but having to stay there for a few days. The levels become progressively worse and involve having conversations, staying longer, and purchasing property. So for the purpose of this blog ... I traversed the 2nd and 3rd levels of hell.

When you left me last time I was leaving, NAY FLEEING, the state line of West Virginia. We continued to drive through North and South Carolina until reaching our destination; Savannah, GA.

**A side note. Although we did not stop in Charlotte but just drove through it, it seemed to be a reasonably sweet city and the only place I saw that I would live. The rest of the South was undeniably READ THAT ANDREW UNDEFREAKINGNIABLY terrible.**

So it was the Fourth of July weekend and hotels were a tad scarce. We also are shackled by my parent's darn dog, Toby. So we have to find pet friendly hotels, which is great for the guy allergic to dogs and cats. I can handle my parents dog as he has hair, so he doesn't shed, as opposed to fur. But I assure you the majority of the muts at this hotel were not hair dogs. My allergies are going crazy. So we got to our hotel room, and as is the unwritten law about hotels, it's hot in the room. No one wants to leave the air on because it's wasteful. I can understand that. No one wants to blatantly raise electricity bills and hurt the environment (except me). But this hotel ... the hotel of the south ... has gone too far. Allow me to elaborate.

I'm sure some of you have seen hotels that have placards telling you they will only wash towels left on the floor to conserve water. So if you will reuse your towel, hang it up, and Mother Earth thanks you. Some ask you to turn the water off when brushing your teeth and help save a stinking whale or something. It's irritating, but no big deal. Allow me to say that I usually leave the water running and throw clean towels on the floor to make them wash them. I hate stupid stuff like that. So I take the extreme and I'm wasteful. Where as before I would have been responsible and polite.

There are also other hotels that when you enter, you have to leave your hotel key in the wall for the lights to be on or the air to be on. This is annoying, but easily averted by, oh I don't know, ASKING FOR A SECOND FREAKING KEY AT THE DESK. How hard is that? The concept started in Europe so it's undoubtedly socialist, but has since made its way here to the States and I abhor it. As aforementioned, I always get an extra key, leave it in slot, leave the lights on and the air conditioning on high when I'm gone. Yes I'm a turd.

Allow me to say that I'm a bit of a harsh user of the environment. Everything grows back. There's always more water. Nothing is being destroyed. Please. I hate recycling. You all know that. Also, and let me put this bluntly ...

I would drill right through a reindeer's head for a gallon of oil. I'm sick of people telling me that drilling in Alaska is bad. Please.

So this hotel we stay at has a new, and even worse form of protecting the environment and conserving energy. It's called The Energy Eye. I had never seen one before this trip and it's terrible. It's kind of like a motion detector that comes with your house's security system. It detects motion in the room and people so that when you're in the room the air kicks on higher and colder. But when your gone there is NO WAY for you to make the air cooler so when you return from the 110 degree day in the sun, that your room is refreshing like your home would be.

So here we are, at a pet friendly hotel, my allergies are bad, it's 110 out, and we can't make it cooler. Not to mention that my pillow had blood on it. I'm sure that was to save the environment too. They probably killed the last heavy user of water and buried him in the earth to grow a tree. We can't get the air cold, and the eye doesn't seem to work well. It barely senses movement, so when you're in the room, if you don't move in your sleep it will cut out and back on. I can't stand it.

I went ape on The Energy Eye. I broke it off it's stupid post and threw it against the wall. I then placed it on the table right next to us so it sensed every motion possible. What you have to do, after breaking it off, is put it next to a fan or something tht blows a shirt in front of it. Then you too my friends, can be a harsh user of the environment again.

So that's it for now. I was going to blog more, but this one got a trifle long and out of hand. Next time stay tuned for our interaction at the Dairy Queen where they took 20 minutes to get us ice cream, barely spoke english, and didn't have chocolate.

THE SOUTH WILL RISE AGAIN! If it takes them 20 minutes to get a freaking blizzard, I'm banking on some 200 years before they think of rising again actually. I think we're safe Yanks!

1st Level

Man I need to post an alarm clock that tells me when to blog or something. It seems like just yesterday that I blogged when in reality it was like 2 weeks ago. Hmmm ... has to be an easy way to remedy that.

So back to the subject at hand. My parents have long talked about moving somewhere where it's not always winter and never Christmas (name that reference you smart kiddies) so they started looking at more "fortunate" climates. After several trips and journeys to the south, they decided that Savannah, GA was where they would make new root. So after a life in Western Pennsylvania, and some hard years no less along the trash filled Monongohela river, they moved to sunny climates, multiple golf courses, and easy access to water that's not polluted.

My parents being the strong supporters of capitalism that they are, have accumulated a fair amount of goods and junk during their years on God's green earth though and needed some help and extra muscle, mostly the former, in moving their worldly possessions down to Savannah. Solution: Keith generously offers to take his summer vacation to move Mom and Dad down there and help unpack their stuff on the other end. In return a get two rounds of golf and food for the week. Sounds like a plan to me?

So we leave Pittsburgh. Yep, you guessed correctly, the sky was gray, but oddly enough you couldn't see a single cloud in the sky. That's the way it always is. It's like a curse from God for something we did years ago I'm sure. But I get to drive my Dad's Jaguar down with XM radio. It's pretty slamming. I'm cruising listening to anything from the Goo Goo Dolls, Pussy Cat Dolls, to Classical Music ... ok no pussy cat dolls since I hate them. They're awful. I can't even come up with something witty to say I hate them so much.

Anyway, we stop for dinner in West Virginia. No, we didn't eat road kill, we stopped at a gas station where I got a piece of Pizza that had been there since roughly the Jurrassic period. It was rather unfortunate since we saw an oasis of Burger Kings roughly 5 minutes later. But I did decide to eat a piece of food that has descended from God's hand to us here on earth. I wholeheartedly believe God gave us this food in order to make us a more happy people ...

None other than ...

The Fruit Pie.

Those things are so slamming. Sure there is approximately 75,000 calories in one and I think maybe 164,000 grams of fat, but who cares. Once you bite through the hard and frosted coated crust and get to the fake fruit filling, all is well with the world. The Apple Fruit Pie might make me smile more than like 99% of all other things in life. Other contenders being like the Steelers winning the Super Bowl.

Now if we could have had the Steelers serve me a fruit pie after winning ... hmmmmm ...

The trip went downhill after this moment though. Well, that's not entirely true. We did get out of West Virginia without contracting anything as serious as say, I don't know: The Bird Flu, SARS, 1 tooth, or a sister for a wife. So I'd say that was a positive. But as we continued further south to the Mason Dixon line, things only continued to get worse. Next time allow me to marvel you with stories of:

1.) Our Hotel!!!!!!!! Dirty, hot, and concious of saving the environment! Damn Liberals!

2.) My 20 minute trip to Dairy Queen!!!!!!!!!!!! Still no chocolate ice cream!

3.) Our trip to IHOP!!!!!!!!!!!! Nothing like slow service when you're waiting for breakfast food!

The North reigns supreme!!!!!!!! Just like Jefferson Starship! We Built This City on Rock and Roll Guys!!!!

Life Without Internet Part 2

Woah ... Keith is alive. Yes, not only am I alive, but I'm back from some absolutely horrifying and sobering adventures. Which, yep you guessed it, I will explore in detail right here before your very eyes.

First off, Andrew is right, life without the internet is tough. I'm surprisingly ok without cable. I mean yeah, sure we missed Avril Lavigne either A) growing up or B) getting lots of surgery but who cares. I also had no clue that there was some Nic Cannon show on MTV (which as a side note I haven't watched since March of 2005) which is called Wild On or something. I thought that was a show on E! last time I checked. So on the one hand while this makes me feel old and like I'm one step away from saying, "I can't stand the music you guys listen too. It's so horrible!" It's better since I'm not being forced to watch horrible shows. When you bring back good sitcoms, then you'll bring me back to paying for cable. Capitalism at its finest folks.

But life without internet is a drag. You're hanging out at the apartment and you want to know what time a movie starts ... hmmmm ... you have a few options:

1.) Check your newspaper (woops don't get one)
2.) Call 411 (That costs a whole $1.50 so who's doing that)
3.) Rely on a friend to look for you (kind of lame but doable)
4.) Drive 5 minutes down the road to your office and mooch their internet (also good for blogging).

So I think once Drew leaves me here next week, so sad, I think I'm going to try to get internet again off someone for cheap. That way you can keep up to pace with my life playing video games and reading as I blog about it! I know I know contain yourselves please.

But I started to talk about adventures before I got off on that tangent now didn't I. Oh I had one large adventure over the last two weeks. It was an adventure that involved scorching heat, wailing and gnashing of teeth, people moving about slowly, and never ending torment. Noooooooo I haven't been to hell and back, but you're close. Wait for it ...

I VISITED THE SOUTH!

Yep, you heard it right. I went south of the Mason Dixon line, and it was horrific. My parents have moved to Savannah, GA and I went down to help them move. Now it's not all terrible though. I did stumble upon a lovely fast food chain called Sonic. And sweet mother alive do they make some slamming burgers and shakes. But it also takes you twice as long to do anything in the south (probably because if you move at regular speed you melt, like actually melt into a puddle). But I'm going to chronicle some of my happenings next blog. Which will be soon I assure you. Sometime next week, or perhaps this weekend. So until then, don't go further south than the PA state line. It's not worth risking it. Cause if you do, you might end up looking like this ... Yep you might turn into Bubba Sparxxx!!!!! Booty booty booty booty rocking everywhere! Oh no!



No seriously ... it's not. That wasn't even a joke.

Later y'inz guys!

Life without internet is a dangerous thing

OH MY WORD IT'S ANDREW!!!

Yeah that's right folks I'm back to drop a short article at you, namely because:

1) Keith hasn't in a long time
2) I'm at Carly's house-my only outlet for internet bliss
3) Carly is watching "Days of Our Lives"...a show I could do without having in the days of my life (oh snap!)

But if you read this blog you nwill note that as stated in point 2 here, Carly is the only source of internet that I have right now. I used to have a computer, but that computer belongs to my former employer (who was obstinantly against me paying them good legal tender for the computer, which has been used and abused for 4 years now) and I must have return it. So therefore the only way I can get on the internet is if I come over to Carly's. I've found that I've missed out on a lot of cool stuff by not having the internet. Here's what I've been missing:

1) Apparently PNC park was put to its first good use since its creation a few years back...serving as the host stadium for the MLB 2006 All Star game! MY friend Ryan told me that "the game" was in Pittsburgh this past week. He actually had to explain to me what "game" he was talking about and I was instantly shamed. Apart from not knowing that the All Star game was going on literally in my back yard, I also felt like a heel because it shows how disconnected I am to professional baseball-a sport which happens to be "America's Pastime". Because I wasn't able to check sites like FOXNews.com, espn.com, or Accuweather.com for the past 2 weeks, I've been made to be a heel-and even worse a heel that doesn't even respect America!!

2) EMAIL!!!! I've gotten several important emails over the past 2 weeks sans-internet. I know because I just checked them. In my email cache were emails pertaining to (but not limited to):
a) an accepted transfer student to my alma mater who had not heard peep or pipe from my alma mater confirming her studentness. When you get emails from students with the subject title "Do I exist at your school?!?!", you know things aren't going well.
b) copious amounts of vacation planning with my 4 best friends from high school. Me, Mike, Bill, Colin, and Jeremy are all headed to Virginia Beach tomorrow with our "respective" girlfriends (but Jeremy is engaged so his FIANCE is coming...please take note). In addition to a rock solid friendship and an overabundance of side splitting tales or misadventure, we five friends share a penchant for apathy when it comes to planning seemingly large events. However over the past few weeks gmail has logged probably close to 30 emails from our little rabble of ne'er-do-wells all of which involve planning our vacation:Who's buying the keg of Yueng, who's cooking what meals on which days, who's bringing Colin golf clubs, how we're all going to car pool down...this is big stuff here! I of course have been out of the loop because of the lack of internet at my disposal, and so I just hope that Bill picks me up on the way to the beach on Saturday morning.
c) A .pdf file of a fax from a one Honorable F.R. Spohn of French Creek, NY announcing that he was absolving me in his court of any potential outstanding charges of "Theft of Serives". Whew!

3)Did you realize that I've been invitied to hang out by Laura, been invited to join the Tara Wagner Fan Club* , and I've been poked by Carly about 3 times over the past few weeks on facebook.com?!?!? NEITHER DID I?! It just so happens that all of these things have happened to me without my knowledge...and facebook is really important so I feel at a loss for not knowing this sooner.

4) Bloggggggging! I know I don't have a whole lot of important things to say, but I do miss blogging a lot.

I plan on getting a computer soon, so before you know it I'll be pirating wireless internet from my neighbor and making more hilarious blogs that make you say "Uhhhhhh!!"** I'll talk to you kids soon.



*TREATED!!

**IF your name is Judge F.R.Spohn and you just read that last sentence, pleaes pretend that you didn't. I am not a crook!

half an hour until lunch!

Hello all.

This post is to sate the hunger of those in blog land who long for an update. Last time we chatted I told you that I was going to make a year-long-blog. This is something I'm really excited about, because good ideas and the impetus to act on them don't usually go hand in hand for Andrew. After receiving tons of feedback on the what this year-long-blog should be about (read: not a one person gave me feedback save for Trey ) I've decided that I'm going to explore a topic both indigienous to Northwestern North Carolina but universally entertaining as well.

Next year I'm going to a large state school which some of you are familiar with thanks to Patrice O'Neal. It's called Appalachian State University and yes, for your information, it is hot hot hot!! ASU is going to be very different from my alma mater, Grove City College. For one, ASU is larger. For two it's more diverse (oops, I didn't say that). For three people are ALLOWED to get drunk! Since people are allowed to drink at ASU, as a socially responsible scholastic entity ASU provides a service to shuttle students around from bar to bar. Now granted this form of "public transportation" is most likely intended to be used by students so that they can save money on gas, and not have to worry about parking their vehicle on campus. The reality though, as any able bodied and hardy livered college student will tell you, is that "college town public transportation"="drunk bus"!! Enter, the APPALCART !!!

The APPALcart of the 21st century isn't the applewagon of days gone by, though I'm sure it still manages to attract a number of rotten cores. From the innards of the APPALcart, I will bring you a weekly set of fantastical stories! This documentary of sorts will last for (you guessed it) one whole year!! This year long canticle will document weekend after weekend of "Stories from the APPALcart"! There will be romance! There will be comedy! There will be tragedy! And hopefully there will be a few socially disastrous debacles which my nimble pen will transform into APPALcart lore. Personally, I could not be more excited to see what shenanigans unravel in the APPALcart!! But come hell or high water (or come spells from fire water!) I will endeavor to post a blog about my experiences as a passerby on the APPALcart. I hope it's entertainig, and I hope that I get to meet some cool people. I also hope that I can chuck this inane formatlity of holding in the SHIFT key every time I want to write APPALcart.

So that's going to be my year-long-blog ('ylb') next year ('ny'). On a lesser note, I'm probably not going to blog for a while. Whereas Grove City gives me a cool computer to use whilst I'm employed at the College, they take it from me when I leave. Thanks alma mater. And it turns out that my last day of work at Grove City College is tomorrow. As of late, though, I've been blogging too much-it's time for Keith to take over and hoe this row for a while. If you get really bored and absolutely HAVE to read an article by Andrew you can scan through some of our archives and find some old gems to sink your teeth into. Since I probably won't see you all for a number of weeks, have a splendid summer and keep your eyes peeled for "Stories from the APPALcart!"

We're all a part of the same body, but it's still ok to chop off your arm

Hello blog friends (and Nathan),

Yesterday I composed a rather compulsive, scathing blog about something near and dear to my heart. It's also something that's near and dear to my work...actually it is about my work. In talking with Keith about the appropriateness of posting my blog, he advocated an exercise of caution and restraint. Being as that restraint has NEVER been a strong suit of mine, I've worked out a compromise. Herein I will not include the contents of my aforementioned blog. But if for some reason you actually want to read what I'm reticent to post on the internet, I'd be more than happy to email you a copy of my blog. It's a revealing portrayal of how another office affects the effectiveness of my office...and that's all I officially have to say about that.

PS: does anyone know of an apartment for rent in Boone, NC that I could rent? I'm really hurting here...

The Year Long Debate

Hey gang,

First and foremost let me say, for those of your disappointed about not being able to look at matoke every day, I had to take the post down. Just looking at the stuff every time I signed onto the blog made me ill...I feel Keith's pain. So it's down, sorry James.

For those of you who are glad to see Matoke go (and glad to see another post come up, of course!!!) let me pose to you a question-a blog feedback question if you will. Most of you know by this point that Keith and I are going to split up here by the end of the summer. I'll be down south of the Mason Dixon line , and he'll be up here in Horriblevania. Don't worry, we're going to try to keep the blog going-so you can wipe the tears of sadness from your eyes and blow the snot out of your nose. But the question I pose is one I would legitimately like your feedback for.

Since I'm moving, and am going to be living in a completely new area, I'd like to chronicle something in my weblog for a year. I take inspiration from people like this fellow and others who decide to chronicle otherwise mundane activities, but infuse them with intrigue through the power of blogging. I have no idea what I'd like to chronicle, or what annual canticle I would like to regale you wonderful people with.

I'm sure you can guess my question by now: what kind of things would hold your interest for a year if I decide to document them? What type of thing would make you say "OH! It's Thursday! I wonder if Andrew's put his weekly blog up yet? I can't wait to hear about what _____________________________________ is like this week!!" The floor is open for discussion, so let me hear it people. I will tell you I do already have one idea, which would no doubt be a blog-blockbuster; but I still need you to give me more ideas.

When Andrew leaves and heads down south, what one blog theme would hold your interest for one year if it were consistently chronicled? READY?!?! COMMENT!!!!



On a lesser note, I'm trying to revive ama mizu's now deceased blog (and believe me I'm trying to use mouth to mouth recussitation a haaa heh heh heh yeeaaahhhhh!!). You should start a deluge of comments on her page to make her come back (and if you can somehow bring her back from North Carolina, that would be great because I miss her a lot).


Ok to the task at hand!! En Viamos!!

The "L" Word

So I keep getting yelled at by people since I never blog. These people are right. I don't blog. I don't know why since I have tons of time on my hand, but I think it's because I always figure my blogs should be about something. They should be well-researched, solid, and potentially read by conservative radio personalities since they're sweet.

Well ... my blogs are not like that. I think I just need to accept it. We tried to reformat, but try as we might, Andrew and I are still blogging about semi-trucks and stupid people. So without further ado ... I'm back. (I wonder how many times I have said this in past blogs? At least a half dozen I'm sure.) So I was looking for some TV clip of the Today Show (read Horrible Show) when I clicked on a link to an article, The Right Time to Use the 'L' Word: Love. A couple of points come to mind:

1.) Thanks for defining what the 'L' word is. I was really confused. I thought you were referring to licorice.

2.) This article is written by someone with a doctorate. I have lost all faith in higher education. I could have written this article. Here's a link to her site. Read the Tom Brokaw quote in the bottom left!

3.) He used the word sagacity! That's unreal. The second paragraph of her "About her page" includes the sentence, "She has interviewed Woody Allen, Tom Brokaw, Gail Sheehy and Rosie O'Donnell" Wooooooooo! Man she's so sweet now. I didn't even know Dr. Gail Saltz existed 24 hours ago, but I'm thinking she's lame.

4.) This article is garbage and I'm going to point a few reasons why. The internet allows stuff like this to become important and taken as serious writing. This article is so lame and here's why!

In paragraph four she says, "The power of the 'L' word is intense." Then in the next paragraph she goes on to define what love is. If you're going to make a serious point, can you use more serious terminology please? We're not in third grade here. You're not passing me a note asking, "Do you like me check yes or no?" Can we just come out and call it saying I love you. Can we call it something a little more mature here Dr. Gail?

Then in paragraph five she gives us this nugget of wisdom:
"What does love mean anyway? Sometimes the definition is murky. When you say, “I love you,” you may mean that you feel close to your boyfriend, he seems right for you, and you want a future together. He may see saying “I love you,” as meaning that you have to get married. And if he doesn’t feel obsessed with you, then he may not think that he’s in love with you. Sometimes people confuse lust and love. Having great sex is terrific, but does it mean love?"

Are you serious? Did you just write a paragraph FOR MSNBC.COM WHICH IS A FREAKING NEWS WEBSITE listing examples of what people may think love is?!?! I think she did. These are thoughts that we all have on a daily basis. I just wasted like 30 seconds reading it, and now like 15 minutes more blogging about it. How is this worthy of being a news site? Shouldn't this be in like Cosmopolitan or something?

More sage advice from Dr. Gail, "Someone who can’t say, “I love you,” may have a problem with commitment."

Really?

You think?

I never would have guessed that. Huh.

Ok this one is good:
"The point is to try to wait to say, “I love you,” until you feel pretty certain you and your partner are on the same love page. Discuss your feelings for each other to test the waters." Wow. Talk about your feelings. Wow.

Ok, I know I've never really dated anyone. Shocked out there right? But are our couples really just messing around so much and watching so much TV on dates or just going to movies so that every single date they never discuss their feelings? Like there's not one date even when they discuss how things are going? If that's the case, like what are these couples talking about when they talk about things? Are they talking about cheese? Cleaning products? Sports? I'm just kind of perplexed.

Last one ...
"And if you’ve said the “L” word too soon, it’s OK to say, “Oops I blurted out in a gooey moment and I’m not really I am not ready either.”"

Is that quote really going to fly with your significant other? I don't think so. A gooey moment?!?! C'mon now. This isn't Saturday morning cartoons or the Disney channel. I know real life isn't like a Matthew McConaughey movie, but you should be able to come up with something more articulate than gooey moment. And you can't just change your opinion by saying, "I'm really not ready either." Words are like tooth paste man - after it's out of the tube it's not going back in ... ever. So let's not pretend here. Be mature enough to talk it out or just let some time pass and then talk about it.

I guess my problem with this article is that I think I could have written it, it's basic, someone with a doctorate wrote it, it's taken as serious, and it's horribly lame. Most people deal with this on an every day basis. If you can't think this stuff through yourself, you shouldn't be in a relationship or telling anyone that you love them.

And a whole other blog for another time should be, "Why are guys painted as idiots?" I know we usually drop the ball and suck and have commitment issues, but this whole article is about the girl saying I love you and the guy being like, "Love (grunt) not good (grunt)." Some of us are a little more advanced than this.

Now if you excuse me, I'm going to go eat a snack pack and read about video games online.

Just another Collab-creation!!

Hello all!

I've heard disquieting rumours* that some people are not content with starting at the wonderful Avril Levigne forever. To placate those dying for a blog update, I present to you the first (of many?) collaborations between our blog, and that wonderful satchel of satire and wit known as Joel's blog! I know that Keith and I have always been a fan of "You Better Believe It" and now is one of those tangible ways in which we express our affection. So without further ado, I present to you a blog FROM Joel, ON our blog. It's mindblowing, right?!

____________________________________________

I try to avoid blantant ranting on my own weblog, but every once in a while, duty compels me to go against my beliefs. And when Keith and Andrew asked me to do a guest spot for theirs, I had to man up, strap on a pair, and get mah RANT on, mutha truckas.

So in the spirit of fighting back, here we go, and just remember the number one rule about reading an article from Poppa Joely: YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT! Ha! Get it? Because that is the name of my weblog. It's the title, and I was using it as a tag...line... ha... okay.

Semi trucks are great. That is, they are great if you like enormous, awkward, lumbering box-things that cannot make a turn, veer into your lane around a curve, spray jets of water at your windshield, blinding you when it rains, and could literally roll over your Satneovalier (or in my case a 1995 Pontiac Grand Am with a leaky heater core) and not even think twice about it—or even realize it! So yes, semi trucks are wonderful, if you are into that sort of thing.

Personally, I am not. Now, we have all seen the slogan, “Without trucks, America stops.” Of course you have probably never seen this slogan anywhere else than on a sticker on the back of a semi truck itself. I take issue with the slogan, myself. I prefer this version: “Without trucks, America doesn’t have to awkwardly back up to make way and then crash into cars behind and around it.” Please, let me explain.

The other day/week/month/whatev, I was driving a fraternity brother’s pickup truck to the bank in town (not National City—I loath National City). For those of you who are familiar with the G.C.C. area, you know the stop sign down by the police station on the way into town. And you also know that it is a pretty wide intersection. Plenty of room. But you also would probably agree that that is no place for any vehicle bigger than maybe a pickup truck or possibly a hummer. Maybe a tank, even. But seriously, no bigger than a tank, or you’re pushing it. Well, one unfortunate truck driver did not seem to get the memo that semis belong on the highway, not barreling through the narrow streets of small Pennsylvania villages.

Here is what happened: I was stopped at the red octagon, like any law-abiding driver, when, from the right, a huge semi truck comes chugging along. Quickly I realize that the driver intends to make a left turn. No problem, I thought, he wouldn’t even attempt that turn if he didn’t know he could make it with me sitting here. Wrong! Without so much as slowing down, this truck starts going at it. Um, dude, I said nervously. Dude, what are you doing… I’m sitting right here…. No dice, the driver must not have noticed my worried expression—or my fifteen hundred pound bright red and purple vehicle either. Understandable how he could miss that (?!). I realized quickly that I was going to have to back up fast or literally get run over.

I started to drive in reverse slowly, because there was another pickup right behind me, also stopped. He began backing up, and I sped up. I looked back the the front, and this truck was seriously inches from hitting me. At this point, it was either bump the guy behind me or get rolled over by an eighteen-wheeler. I hit the gas. Skreeeee—THUMP!!! That is what it sounds like to narrowly avoid death by semi truck. Flustered, embarrassed, and breathing heavily, I got out of Dave’s truck and walked over to survey the damage. The other driver was really nice about it. After we agreed that there was no harm done, we got in our trucks and continued our day. But the fact that there was “no harm done” is not the point here. The point is that semi trucks are rude, too big, clumsy, and inconsiderate. Their drivers seem to have concern neither for other people, nor human life in general. This is not the first time something like this has happened!

So, you get my point. I have long said that semi trucks are like fat guys in a crowd. Think about the metaphor, you’ll see what I mean. And you will agree, or I am going to get in a big rig right now and run over your house.

Let us stop the madness now, before it’s too late and people start to die. Horrible, grisly, semi truck-related deaths.

Obligatory disclaimer: I was talking to my dad about how I hated semis at a baseball game the other day, and he informed me that the man standing behind me was a truck driver. Of course, I felt like a huge chomp. So let me just say that I’m sure not all trucks are bad. I am sure there are many drivers out there who are courteous, kind, and considerate. To those men and women I would like to say, WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN! PLEASE START DRIVING ON I-80 LIKE RIGHT NOW! BECAUSE YOU SURE AS HECK HAVEN’T BEEN THERE THE LAST FOUR YEARS OF MY LIFE!!!!1!11

Thank you.

fin

________________________________________

*(British spelling!!!)

This is what happens when you get rid of cable

You miss the amazing metamorphosis of pop punk princesses!














When did this happen, America?! When?!??