Monday, February 13, 2012

Marginally Interesting Mondays

Today has been cold. For SC, at least. Don't start bitching about "SC isn't cold! (Insert state here) is cold! Quit whining!" For those of you who are not familiar with how the body works, within a certain temperature range, your body actually acclimates to the local weather. So, 20 degrees in SC is like -30 degrees in upstate New York for those who are acclimated to the weather. And I've done 2 week long field maneuvers in that kind of weather, so don't try to one-up me with "It's colder here where I most certainly stay inside with the furnace on full blast except when I gear up and shovel the driveway."

That's one thing that annoys me. Why do people lack grace anymore. Why is everything a pissing contest about who has it worse? I am quite content not telling people about my shit days. I certainly don't want to hear how crappy you "had it." In the example above - the weather - stating that the weather suddenly dropped to chilly temperatures is a topic for discussion - not a topic for someone to start bitching about how cold it is somewhere else. We're not talking about somewhere else. We're talking about here. Go fuck a hooker with the herp.

Class is providing productive material to a conversation. Class is accepting a compliment with grace - not insulting the person by saying, "Oh no, my hair is just awful!" after they've complimented it. You just told them they have no sense of fashion or style. I think that while it's fine to "complain" about some things, like the weather, it shows lack of personality to always be complaining. Show people you're happy as a two-dollar whore working a bar near a military base! Be cool under pressure. Laugh at yourself. Just don't be the annoying plastic smile person, either.

Be more like this guy - happy despite certain doom!

Fun pic o' the day:


Sunday, February 12, 2012

Hey Man, Nice Miss

Yeah, I missed a day in blogging. To be fair, I did post in my other blog. I probably need to rewrite it. I'm finding that Beavis and Butthead is still entertaining. I tried watching it some last year and it annoyed me. But now that I'm watching the episodes with the music videos in them, it's actually entertaining me. I'm quite content with how my "90s restoration project" is going - like Rosie at an endless KFC buffet. Of course, throwing in extra good stuff that happened since doesn't hurt. It's like having permanently good television.

Unfortunately, I discovered that my computer doesn't have an on-board graphics card, after all. So I won't be attaching the second monitor and running video games... wait, I think I have spare video cards back at my mom's house. Damn, I need to take another trip home!

Fun pic o' the day:

Courtesy of another blogger found here:

Friday, February 10, 2012

Smells Like 90s Spirit

Recently, I started a new project. Recreating MTV - when it was good. I've gathered up all music videos from the 80s and 90s I could find (so far). All in .avi format. Plus some choice videos from more recent years. I've taken Daria and Beavis an Butthead and put them in .avi format onto my computer. I'm doing the same with Robot Chick (yeah, okay, so not 90s, but fits right in!) and The Maxx. Once this is complete, I'm putting them all into one giant random shuffle playlist on media player.

Add to that, gathering up all the NES, SNES, N64 game isos (ones I actually own only, of course) and attaching a second monitor to my computer. On my big TV screen, I will have my playlist going while on the second, I'll be playing oldschool video games. And as I described this setup to my friend, Weird Al's "White and Nerdy" started playing on my playlist.

I'm already loving what I've got so far. This is more epic than a bus full of cocaine, dead hookers, and napalm.

Fun pic o' the Day:


Thursday, February 9, 2012

The Blog Titles

Wow. I'm a typing maniac tonight! For anyone paying attention, I had posted two blogs tonight. It's one of my less hooker-ridden rants. However, because the undertaking of that blog is larger than Marlon Brando's ass on a C-5 Galaxy, I've decided to move it into an entirely separate blog. You can read it here:

Today, I figured I'd talk about my blog titles. Maybe it's vanity, but I really like them. One of my favorite things to do is come up with names for things. Maybe that's why some religions and people don't practice using protection. They just have an addiction to the baby naming book. But my blog titles might be confusing for some people. I'll just talk about the two blog titles as opposed to the numerous post titles.

My Life and Ice Cream is a title I came up with years ago when I tried something like a blog, but it was just more of something to share on a social site. I LOVE ice cream. I don't buy it often, but I will devour it like Fatty Arbuckle on the last chicken wing. Bet you thought there was going to be a reference to hookers devouring unmentionables. Well, now there is! So, the idea is that I'd be a very sad person if there was no ice cream. It would actually be traumatizing for me. So, ice cream is sort of an integral part of my life. It just seems fitting for a blog that more or less is about me. Yay vanity!

100 Proof Jesus is what I'm titling a work in progress. The original idea was to write a long blog detailing arguments for and against religion and anti-religion. More appropriately, theism and atheism. The concept quickly turned into much more. I thought I could do it in two posts, but I think it's important to view the (shit, hooker reference - sorry, getting carried away with being serious) applications of logic and debate for this purpose. There's proper ways to debate subjects and I intend to highlight bad forms of debate, arguing, and fallacies commonly used today in a debate or argument. The title is self-descriptive, like scabies on a two-dollar whore, if not a little misleading. It isn't really about proving Jesus, but more about examining the possibilities of God - or a god. The 100 proof part is an alcohol reference and pun. Proof of the possibilities and 100 proof, at that. Because we know that 100 proof is only 50%. I'm not sure why they use proof instead of percentage, but my guess is one of two things. One, it's a marketing gimmick to make it sound more potent. Two, it came about during prohibition as a clever way of marking and disguising alcohol. I just made that shit up. I suppose I could Google it...

I think I'll start introducing "fun pic of the day" with my blogs. Sort of a "moment of Zen" thing.

Fun pic o' the day:


Wednesday, February 8, 2012

The Can Collector

Another day, another blog. I guess this is becoming a personal challenge to me. If you've ever tried to write a daily blog, it's actually kind of annoying. Especially when you have anti-social tendencies in the first place.

Anyway, trash day here is Thursdays. Last week, I put my recycling out the day before and not long after, I found a guy digging all the cans out of it. So, I helped him. Yeah, I think going through people's recycling is a crime. So, this week, I put all my cans in bags and laid them on top so the guy can just grab them and go. I guess that was my good deed for the year.

But on to more interesting matters. Today, while driving to class, some jackass starts blowing his horn at an intersection like a Vietnamese prostitute trying to make a quick twenty bucks. I had my window down, so the noise was super-effective on me. Then I heard the asshole yelling, "Hey!" to his friend that he saw while driving. Okay, I can tolerate the whole honk-to-say-hi thing sometimes, but make it short staccato honks and, for the love of not being a total douche, DON'T do it at a fucking intersection!

So, it prompted me to come up with this pie graph. And yeah, I realize it's the internet so someone probably already made this one, but dammit, I made it myself, so fucking enjoy.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Drunken Rant

So, I was just talking to a friend. When we were kids... You know, if you did something retarded, you got your ass beat, your parents got a phone call, and you knew when you got home, you were getting your ass beat again. And you spent the entire trip avoiding adults because they were all given permission to beat your ass. That old chestnut.

But, seriously, when I was a kid, Transformers actually transformed from the thing into a robot. You didn't have to take arms off and replace them because it didn't work otherwise. They were something of a mechanical marvel. And the story. Imagine being a kid and growing up thinking 18 wheelers were awesome as hell and your favorite guy, Optimus Prime, transforms into one! For those who didn't grow up in the 80s, giant robots and 18 wheelers go together like whores and crack. That was a hell of a time! Giant robots, fast cars, and laser guns - all the while fighting the forces of evil.

And the story? They made a movie in 1984 or 1986 - I forget the date. Imagine growing up with that kind of hero. Watching the cartoons every week and all that. Then you find out they're making a movie? If your parents loved you, you saw that movie in theaters. And your hero dies within the first half hour. That's right, Optimus Prime DIES. And the voice-overs included Leonard Nimoy, Judd Nelson, Weird Al, and some other names I'm probably forgetting. It was insanely awesome.

This leads me to my big deal. What happened, America? We can't find concrete on playgrounds today when the original instructions for lawn darts was to stand at the circle where your buddy is throwing the "missile of death"! I had to Google "flying the American flag upside down" because I saw it as a window sticker and it kind of pissed me off. Then I saw that it's a message to say that we're in distress. I guess that's my whole point. We're not the America we want to  or should be.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Lights In the Attic

So, I think I came up with a blog idea, finally. But because of the nature, it will have to run separately from my daily ranting. And of course, I'm not going to tell anyone about it. People will just have to wait and see. It will not be a daily blog.

Much the same as that guy at the party that tries to tell a joke, but ruins the punch line at the wrong moment and feels obligated to finish the story, this blog continues. At some point, it might come up with a theme and actually contribute something to the internet community.

For tonight, though. I think I'll try to save this blog some dignity and shoot it in the face a little sooner than usual. Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the zombies bite!

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Enter Sandman

I need to go to bed. I have some school work to finish up tomorrow and I need to start exercising again (which means being at the gym at 6am). And yet, I've managed to not post a blog yet today. So, here comes another impotent blog.

There's always someone you've known in your life who seems to have no purpose. Sometimes (maybe most of the time),  they even come across as completely brain dead. But you know that somewhere underneath all that uselessness, window licking, and paint sniffing, there's something they COULD be useful for. That's the stage this blog is in. It's like a teenager that grew up on too many 80s heroic fantasy movies... and glue.

What do I mean by that? Take a look at some of the great heroes of people who grew up in the 80s. The Last Starfighter is the perfect example. A kid basically decides to do nothing with his life except try to get the high score on an arcade game. He even says something to the effect of "Screw going to college! I know I'm meant for more in life!" That may be one of the most assinine thought processes I've ever seen. Eventually, aliens visit the kid and he discovers that his ability to play that arcade game is key to him helping save the galaxy by becoming a space fighter pilot.

That's exactly the kind of mentality I'm talking about. The whole concept of feeling like you're meant for something greater and just sitting around waiting for it to happen. I hate to ruin anyone's delusional movie fantasy, but life doesn't work like that. Some old wizard isn't going to just show up and give you a ring and ask you to save the world (and if he does, don't be surprised if saving the world involves giving him 20 bucks and polishing mysterious wands through a hole in a bathroom stall). Everyone feels like they're meant to do more in life. The problem is, you can only do what you assert yourself to doing. That doesn't mean sit around in your mom's basement and practice trying to use The Force for eight hours a day before you jerk off to Carrie Fisher wearing a gold bikini.

Speaking of which, here's a photo of Carrie Fisher.

Courtesy of from the article found here:

Now imagine her in a gold bikini. Hope I didn't ruin anyone's Star Wars fantasy.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Febreezing the Brain

Okay, so blogging is harder than it sounds. It's easy to put down some random bullshit, like "Oh, today I did my fucking nails and the guy/girl I like looked at me and smiled! I nearly creamed my panties when I saw she was wearing a Twilight tee shirt!" And the general public's give-a-shit-ometer is pegged out at zero. By the way, for the grammar police out there, my use of pronouns in this blog has so far been entirely intentional.

Yes, I thought writing some bullshit on a daily basis would be easy. But there's more to it than that. Where's the real point? What is it I'm writing that readers actually WANT to read about? Smut, science, elephantitis, video games, beastiality, drugs... or, more importantly, what can I keep up a blog about that I not only know about, but can phrase in an interesting-to-read kind of way? Sorry to get anyone's hopes up, but I'm not writing about any personal peculiar sexual fetishes, tendencies, fantasies, etc. Well, not anytime soon. 

Now I'm starting to think. Is there something I can do with a blog that's never been done? Should this be my goal? Can I make a blog about making a blog about finding a purpose to a blog that becomes the blog's purpose? If blog isn't starting to sound like a funny word to you by now, try saying blog about bloggity more times. You're welcome for that.

Friday, February 3, 2012

The Internet Gods Are Not Kind

So, for those of you who pay attention to dates, you'll notice this blog and the first one are dated for the same day. To put a long story short, I did a stupid and deleted the previous blog, but not before copying it and finally repasting it. But it's a boring story, so I'll spare you.

On the other hand, I'm trying to get a feel for where to go with this thing. I think I'm going to make it some kind of project - blog every day for a year or some such. But right now, like an eunuch in a whorehouse, it lacks purpose.

I guess I'll just talk about my day... (overwhelming sense of self-emasculation).

Dear fucking diary,

Today, after Heat Transfer class, I was really hungry and really lazy. So I went home and, instead of fixing anything one might call an actual meal, I opened a thing of canned ham my mom had sent back with me after my most recent visit. Needless to say, canned ham is about as good as it sounds. An eighty-year-old prostitute with an over-developed meth addiction looks better than how my stomach felt. I skipped my second class. However, after a few hours, I felt a little better, manned up, and attended my last two classes of the day. Then I came home and ate the rest of the canned ham.

The Beginning

So, here I am joining the millions of users on the internet attempting to become some sort of pseudo-philosopher blogger with millions of fans and pave my way to fame... Or, more accurately, become completely self-absorbed by writing a daily blog about my own stupid self. Beware, there shall be fucking swear words and, like most popular artists of today, I shall whore myself out to anyone who will give me five seconds of attention - like a disease-ridden hooker with daddy issues. There will also be vulgar references to hookers.

So, why bog? Obviously because I'm so pretentious that I think people will give a fuck about what I do in my daily life. Also, because I heard Google will pay me to write shit if I get enough readers who like to click links. To boot, I've not been sober in the past twenty-four hours and I need to feed my addictions. I can't buy whores, alcohol, illegal substances, and bribe crooked cops on taxpayer money alone.

Okay, so this thing is supposed to be about me and I suppose with that being the case, you deserve to know about me. I'm a 32 year old student attending the University of South Carolina on GI benefits. What am I studying? I'm glad you fucking asked. Mechanical Engineering. I'm sure I'll talk about some boring science stuff at some point, so there's your warning. I live alone with two ferrets. They provide most of the entertainment - and personality - in this house. I think that's enough about me for now. Get off the internet and go do something productive. Or, if you're slightly cooler than myself, navigate away from this page to your favorite porn site and fap to your most recent sexual fetish. Then you can spend the rest of your evening with the realization that you might as well go to bed because creaming your three-day-old underwear was the highlight of your night.