new year.

for your new year's resolution.. be sure to include picking a fight with a person smaller than you. because that way.. if that small person is bothering you.. it's perfectly legal to reach down and punch them right in the forehead. and if you have long arms.. or you drop down to your knees.. you can give them a shot right in the stomach. and when it happens.. you'll be glad that you accomplished something. reached a goal. that type of stuff. but now only if weight loss was that easy right? that's when that small person will go from clutching their stomach and rolling around crying.. to lunging at you with some.. barbed wire he keeps in his pocket. and he'll pull out your appendix and show it to you.. and he'll say.. 'it's ok. i'm a doctor.' but you'll feel awful. and you'll say.. 'arraaarrggagaaaah.. put it back! put it back!' but he won't hear you. because it's midnight. and he's already filled your appendix with champagne and he's drinking out of it. what a fucker right?

happy new year. and when the year gets old for you, you can go back to being less happy. and i'll be the first to tell you that you got it all wrong.

smell.

i thought i smelled something but i didn't.. it was weird. let's just say.. i'm glad it was a more subtle odor.. and it wasn't something like.. strawberries. like if you think you smell strawberries.. the next step is to not double check.. because if you think you smell strawberries.. but it turns out it's a bag of garbage your nose will do its best to vomit. which it can't. but it'll try. and you might vomit. but if you're pretty sure that it's strawberries.. then smell and sniff away until your lungs explode. i'll take the safe route.

holiday.

i'm having really weird dreams. like the one where i lost my watch. there were railroad tracks going straight through campus.. and a neighborhood in there too. and when i got to the parking lot it didn't look like cal poly anymore. it looked like uci. and i felt awful because i lost my watch somehow. then another one had bugs bunny doing weight loss ads. if anything he should be doing weight gain ads. but in the end that skunk was really attracted to him for some reason. and i woke up.. and i really wanted to say.. what the fuck? but it was like.. christmas.

bear traps.

things not to take on a desert island:

-sand
-pictures of yourself
-leaf blower (for leaf blowing purposes)
-bear traps
-blank CDs
-one shoe
-donald trump


without any macguyver-like knowledge all that stuff is pretty much useless.. extra sand will probably get you a nice sand castle until the tide comes in and makes you cry. pictures of yourself aren't as useful as they may seem. a leaf blower.. you're missing neighbors to annoy.. and leaves to blow. my desert island is the kind that's just an island and a palm tree. bear traps.. because i'll step in them myself. blank CDs.. aside from reflecting light and stuff.. i'll end up throwing them in the ocean. one shoe.. anywhere is a bad place to take one shoe. and donald trump.. he's just awful. we'll end up dividing the island in a 'you stay on your side. i'll stay on mine' way.. a month later his side will have a 100 story office building and an airport.. with a population of 900 million.. and i'll be on my side.. stepping in bear traps.

infection.

you know what happened to me today? i ran out of antibiotics. and the hole in my mouth.. just might get all infected. fuck. right? i'll have more in the morning though. and hopefully this swelling of the left cheek will go away. i look like i'm saving a snack in there like some fat person that does that.. i don't think fat people do that.. in fact.. i don't think anybody does it. so yeah.. it's pretty awful. skipping over a couple doses can't be beneficial.

while the left side of my face was numb.. i managed to bite down fairly hard on my tongue for about 30 minutes without realizing my tongue was being bitten. i mean.. there was this bloodied up gauze in there and it felt pretty tonguey so how was i supposed to know my tongue was going to sneak in because it wanted attention.. i think there's some cheek in there too. because those two areas hurt more than the stitched up hole.

i have a thing about being blind like a bat. they have excellent sonar. and moles have incredibly large hands. and they're both blind. and here i am... with my vision, but without sonar. and shitty digging hands.

and i thought i was the clever one that stayed up late to sign up for classes..

wisdom.

it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts.. and then you take some generic vicodin.. and it doesn't hurt anymore.. but now i feel like throwing up. or that's what the head says.. the stomach feels differently though.

'hello bartender, i have thought it over.. and far from being a fat pig you are... very nice. and i would like another drink..'

i can't keep my arms still..

it was about.

my ribcage is taking a beating from my heart. my throat feels like i swallowed a fistful of burning embers. so it's not a good feeling. it could be worse though. i mean. you can pick up the wrong bottle.. and try to smash it against the table. but it won't work when you don't have the right bottle. if you try hard enough with the wrong bottle, you'll end up hitting yourself in the head instead of breaking the bottle... my nose is runny. put on a jacket before you get sick. but the brief moments before you get sick.. when you can feel yourself being infected.. you know you're going to be sick really soon. but right now i just feel cold. even with all the layers of warm clothing.. i feel cold. icebox type cold. a song titled 'i don't feel so good' is playing.

i'm still upset about getting a B. looks like it took 22 years before the asian overachiever-ness decided to kick in. fuck it. i'll go back to doing what legs mcneil said..

one word.

since i can't find my guitar pick.. i decided to pick up a binder clip. it worked out nicely. but this just means.. i need to buy more colorful guitar picks.. or put my guitar picks in a more findable area. such as.. that cave where saddam was hiding.

the only way i could describe it was.. 'it's like jumping off a cliff.. but only your ears go.' it's this huge dive. slow and very pleasant. like bungee jumping through molasses. so i guess there's another way to describe it.. maybe a better way. since you do come out of the dive into euphoria.. and you just float along until the next dive. which is just as enjoyable as your first shot of heroin.. ask the addicts what it's like. i wouldn't know. but every time they shoot up.. that's exactly what they're going for. that first hit. that same feeling. is my bloody valentine's loveless like heroin? maybe.. for me it'll be like heroin. when you hear it.. you'll say..'what the fuck is going on?' and then you'll realize. or you won't. because you'll be thinking.. 'this shit is way way way way way too fucked up for me to listen to.' which is perfectly fine.

so i picked up the wrong bottle of wild turkey. but still.. what's with the cork? and what's with that weird groove in the back under the label? the cork makes me feel extra classy.. when i don't feel like being classy. and that weird groove.. just confuses me. why is it there? the only thing i've come up with so far is that it's a fat 'T' for turkey. but that's probably not it.

i'm shivering.. but i feel warm. maybe i'm cold.

i went to borders to pick up fear and loathing in las vegas. but the dorks didn't have it.

the fox sweater is probably the best thing to come out of jc penny. if it had pockets i'd probably put stuff in them.. but it doesn't. so stuff is left in the car.. or moved to the pants pockets.

if the incredible hulk played baseball.. you wouldn't watch it because he had all this muscle power to hit balls. and perform muscled abilities.. you'd watch because this green freak was going to try and hit a ball that's being thrown by some other muscled freak that's on steroids.

that was a very strange sensation.

if you've ever heard times new viking's devo and wine you'll know that it's brilliant. or you'll probably think that it's a piece of shit. which is fine. if more people were fine with things.. 2pac would still be around singing about.. stuff. i need to listen to more rap.

you want weight. something to hold you down. drinking makes you feel heavier. the right kind of drinking. because if your drink doesn't hit you.. all you're doing is hydrating yourself the wrong way. so don't do it. but if it does hit you.. then you feel it. you're being lifted. you feel lighter. but you're weighted down. you won't go flying off. you'll stay put. but you're lighter. up in the clouds. because then it's easier to come down.

they definitely gave me a reason this time. no mindless actions this time. if uci doesn't want to replace my bad grades because i retook classes at a jc rather than a uc.. well.. fuck them. fuck the whole uc system.. except berkley. they're doing something right.. at least in the civil engineering field.

marc bolan deserves more recognition and credit for what he's done for music. i remember reading or hearing from a video that some guy's jacket was in the back seat of his car when he died.. what would it be like to be in that situation? do you wear the jacket again? or what do you do?

if i could pull out my brain from my head.. and then smash it against a canvas. then you'll see what i see. and then you'll know. but you wouldn't understand. you'll come up with your own conclusions. but you won't know what any of it really means.

grades.

3 units of B's makes the grades look less like they're screaming. it makes it look more like.. sheep. or swedish music from the 70's.. with a bunch of extra A's. it's like scrabble.. but if i can't come up with anything with the letters i get, it's a pretty good quarter. unless i get all F's.. because then it's like.. fffffffffffffffffff........... FUCK!

tah-dahs

'lord please don't you let me down. don't let me down. don't let me down. lord please don't you let me down, like i did to you.'

last one.

the hardest part of tomorrow's final will be keeping the scantron dry.. like if i happen to take it with me to the bathroom and drop it in the toilet or something. or the more likely situation of rain falling all over it.

it's never really the last one is it?

ET and finals.

ET is an asshole. he stole my reese's pieces. what a fucker. sure. you could make the argument that the reese's pieces aren't really mine. but actually mr. reese's.. hence the name. but still. what an asshole. you don't steal something twice. once is already too much. he's not using my stupid phone to call home.

i'd really like to punch UCI in the neck.. but it's sort of like punching a fat guy in the neck.. you don't know what the hell you're punching.. but you're pretty sure it's not their neck. so i'm probably going to give up on that.

i can smell a 4.0. it smells like m&m's. either plain.. or the ones that come in the light blue package.. crispy.. or crunchy.

cap.

there are these really high pitched noises in this song.. but they're in the background. it's bothering me. something tickles my right ear at times when i listen to music. some fucking ghost or something. stop it. i suspect my hair though. writing is no longer difficult. it's now the easiest part of my projects.

i'm a robot. apparently i'm on the dean's list.

slowdive - souvlaki

this is what a balloon feels like. happy until somebody with a needle comes by.. and pop! you burst into two or three pieces. and you fall to the floor. on the floor you sink some more. you do your best to keep from sinking too deep. but that just makes you sink some more. then you fall out from the bottom. and float down the same way leaves float down. then mr. leaf meets mrs. foot. and crunch. a couple more pieces and the sinking begins again. but you're sinking the other way now.

toilets.

i want to say.. something punched me in the neck like.. 30 seconds ago. and it still hurts. something like.. this coupon i have for 40% off any one regular priced item. i'll spend it on glue or popsicle sticks. you know. so i can sniff the glue. or i can wish that box of 1000 popsicle sticks wasn't a box of 1000 popsicle sticks. maybe.. a box of $1000. that's be better. but then i'd have this useless box to deal with. small children are fascinated by boxes. i know i was. that.. and toilets.

floor brain.

a couple days ago, i was 90% sure that when we sleep we all end up in the same place. this time coach green came after me with a bat. but as it turned out. he was really angry with the mexican kid standing behind me. so me, the mexican kid who i've never seen before, and coach green just happened to be in the same place at the same time. and my brain was laying on the floor when i woke up. lying on the floor. i don't care.

confidence

merriam-webster says:

Confidence

Main Entry:

¹con·fi·dence

Pronunciation:

\ˈkän-fə-dən(t)s, -ˌden(t)s\

Function:

noun

Date:

14th century

1 a: a feeling or consciousness of one's powers or of reliance on one's circumstances confidence in her ability to succeed> confidence> b: faith or belief that one will act in a right, proper, or effective way confidence in a leader>

2: the quality or state of being certain : certitude confidence of success>

3 a: a relation of trust or intimacy confidence> b: reliance on another's discretion confidence> c: support especially in a legislative body confidence>

4: a communication made in confidence : secret confidence>


no retarded piece of paper is going to bring me down. unless i'm a rock without a pair of scissors.

vomit.

i'm very good at giving myself motion sickness. you have no idea. constantly going through flythrough animations over and over and over.. and then over one more time right before you really feel like vomiting because your head's spinning is a very good way to spend your sundays. it's sort of like church.. but not really. because i feel like vomiting. but if you feel like vomiting after church.. you probably shouldn't be going. or you should be going to another church. one more inclined toward your strange satanic rituals. or the other way around. the important thing here is.. nobody vomits. unless you have an eating disorder or worms. i have neither. so to me.. vomiting isn't enjoyable and it can be easily avoided since there's no freakish pig worms in me.

i really feel dizzy though.

this is.

THIS IS BULLSHIT!

except i'm trying to think of something other than bullshit to say. because bullshit isn't appropriate. please don't tell me to replace 'bullshit' with 'Sparta!'

sandman.

these new headphones are too comfortable. like. the ears are sad when the headphones are gone. and they get overly happy when they're around. catch 22.. if i knew what that meant. so they turned my ears into one of those hyperactive dogs that sits around all day.. until they catch the scent of opening the garage.. and they piss all over the place with joy. my ears are like that now. minus the pissing.

'the sandman never sleeps.'

sometimes.

sometimes. sometimes. sometimes. sometimes. sometimes. sometimes. sometimes. sometimes. sometimes. sometimes. sometimes.

beards.

when edward gates calls you a 'born engineer' you grab onto that and don't let it go.. not even to grab onto other notable phrases like.. 'this whistle isn't very clean.' and 'nelson shouldn't be allowed to travel to cuba to see if he can hide a pirates treasure map in fidel castro's beard.' all i have to say to that is.. i bet i could hide a treasure map in there. or perhaps even the treasure. note to cia. hide treasure in osama's beard so people shovel up his head and leave him with a hole minus the treasure for a face. i think i'd be very good at hiding stuff in my beard.. if i had one. it'll be like doraemon's pouch. i'd pull stuff out of it when my dork nerd buddy can't do his homework and requires a homework doing machine that'll end up eating all my chocolate.. then dork nerd will get beat up and learn his lesson. everybody wins. except me. i won't have anymore chocolate.

ffn.

i have to write this report on fast food nation.. i read it like 2 years ago. so i can't remember anything from it. but i feel confident enough in my awesome writing and presenting skills that i'll get full credit.. well.. even if it's a piece of shit.. i'll get full credit. frank says. 'if you're here wednesday and you're breathing.. you'll get full credit.' so i don't know why i'm so worried. i read the book. i just need to talk about how these corporate fuckers screw up. or how these corporate fuckers fuck us.. but having two fuck's in a row sort of ruins the effectiveness of the word. FUCK! see.

shit dumpster

i'm supposed to be writing this report on civil engineering. but i can't get started. or i can.. but everything i write sounds like shit. so i'm tossing all my shit into the shit dumpster. what will be left is a jewel encrusted, golden report on shit i put together in 2 hours. so.. here's the shit.

this is not ice cream. and ice cream probably doesn't go well with whiskey. for some reason part of me thinks that'll be good. cookies are pretty good with it. is that ice cream or whiskey? does it matter? cookies are fucking great! the word 'fuck' should be more common in business. things would be easier. no more long winded terms for owing somebody money.. all you need to say is.. 'are you fucking me? you're fucking me aren't you? you mother fucker! i ain't your mother..' and you break some legs. now that this is out of my system. i just need some magical writing juice which the actor in the lost weekend enjoys. fuck you CE report!

in my sleep.

what the hell does asparagus do to your piss to make it smell the way it does? it smells like.. highly potent piss. um. like jellyfish stings would be all better after you poured this piss on your leg. or arm. or ass. or whatever area you let the jellyfish get you. and the toilet. upon receiving this potent piss would flush as you were urinating.. spraying all sorts of aerial bacteria at you. and you'd be forced to stand there.. because if you moved out of the way.. you'd end up pissing all over the wallpaper. or if you're stupid enough to do something awful. you'll end up pissing all over your dinner because for some reason you thought it would be a good idea to have a meal in the bathroom. retard! that's probably the 3rd worst place to have your dinner.. i'm going to say.. the 2nd is at a breakfast convention. and the 1st is inside a fat lady.. who ate you.

my mind is like a knife. it's very sharp and you keep it in a drawer. or you carry it around for protection. bang bang. you're dead.

i'm going to do economics problems in my sleep now.

do it in your sleep.

my eyes are lemons. and my brain feels good. my ribs feel out of order. they should be rearranged back to the proper. more comfortable. order. my knee is not centered. my stomach is full of aspirin that does nothing to the pain. or for the pain. like. if the pain wants the laundry done.. aspirin won't do it. nor will it slice up pain's gums and watch it bleed all over the floor. aspirin won't do any of that. and economics is such a terrible thing. what the hell kind of retard writes economics questions.. because the stuff i had to do today was really messed up. 'suppose for a year a company purchases 6 computers at a time when the interest rate is 8% for $90 each while the final savings in the 3 years after is $80.' it was just fucked up stuff like that.. but now i can do them in my sleep. i wish i had a sleepwalking problem. i'd get a lot more done. sleepwalk out to the kitchen. take out all the cans of corn for a unbalanced breakfast of 6 cans of corn.. then.. i don't know what i'd do. i'm almost certain i'll just rearrange stuff. if i could rearrange my ribcage that would be good.

california raisins.

'nelson. stop acting like a fucking lunatic.' said the voice in my head. or maybe it's the green faced seasick cricket. who looks like jiminy. but it's not jiminy. because disney would sue my ass. and i'd be assless in the weeks or perhaps months to come while my ass was in court. the rest of me will have to deal with such wild and outlandish ridicule of not being able to sit that i just might stuff a fat rabbit down the backside of my pants.. just to remind myself how soft and comfortable asses are to sit on. dear peta. i don't really mean that. rabbits are probably a very bad choice for an ass replacement. but you guys fucking nuts. 'peta. stop acting like a fucking lunatic.' said the voice in their head..

bring back the california raisins. i'm going to write my congresswoman. dear congresswoman sanchez. i didn't vote for you. in fact.. while the other student in my 8th grade history class was doing a report on you.. i was shitting my pants trying to think of an opening line to my horse eating speech. it was like.. don't fucking eat horses. because that scene from the godfather is not what you want on your dinner plate. it was like.. vote yes on proposition h.. so we don't end up eating horses. the filipino kid in my class made the mistake of thinking no meant no.

i'll say thanks. if you're pouring my drink.

bitter hands.

eating those grapes that fell in the dishwater may or may not be a good idea. and if they happen to be a good idea.. i'm almost certain i won't be asking for my fruits to be dipped in dishwater before i eat them. almost. although i did wash them again. but the outside tastes bitter as hell. i blame bitter handed pickers who in turn passed it on to bitter handed shippers then finally to the bitter handed store owner.. who then sold it to the bitter handed consumer.. that'll explain why i don't have good handwriting.

the drugs don't work.

the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work. the drugs don't work.

it's a large number

i wasn't expecting it to be so large. but it's a large number. it's like 4 million digits or something. what the hell.. i was scrolling through it and i felt like vomiting.

sunday.

i don't want to drink. but i will. and then i'm going to listen to all sorts of songs about sunday. which is... so far.. the best day to write a song about. and no. friday can kiss my ass.

and isn't it great how you can hear the cold again? if you don't know what i mean.. start listening. it's calling. like. 'hey. the sun is only here for the visual effect. i'm going to freeze your ass. and maybe unfreeze it later in the future along with walt disney's brain. or was it hitler's brain?'

tv

hey. good tv should be like a healthy intestine. one right after you take a shit.. so there's no shit left over. but plenty of twists and turns and whatever the hell else your intestine has that i don't know about. toss in a couple things that are pleasing to the eye. or one something that pleases both eyes. and you have perfectly good tv for retards like me to enjoy.

fat people.

if you no longer fit in a chair. then it's probably time you thought about going on a diet. or getting the fat sucked out of you. or the other one where they staple your stomach. either do that. or complain to the chair companies that they're making chairs too small. then people like me will feel extremely comfortable.. or we'll fall down into the ass groove down to china or something. no. this isn't really for the fat people. it's really for the oh my god you just ate that entire cheesecake, i was saving that for the meeting and you ate all of it, not really all of it. you left the strawberries, but you ate the wax paper stuff. and i think you sat on my cat. whiskers? are you ok? he's ok. but my god you're fat. you know. those kind of fat people.

ow.

hello. my left arm hurts. not quite the entire arm. it's more of a concentrated pain around the finger-hand-wrist area.. more so the wrist area. but it only hurts when i do stuff with my fingers. so i decided to include the other areas. so i'm going to sleep tonight. and it'll be better tomorrow. because that's how things work. i bet some monster comes in and rewires all my veins and organs and stuff while i sleep. i should leave him/her a tip. in the form of a puppy or kitten. monsters like to eat puppies and kittens right?

laughter

laughter is wayyy too infectious. you know?

genius farm.

'advanced surveying? that's an oxymoron.'

ha! but you don't get it.

from your friendly and not so friendly livestock at the genius farm.

this thursday?

cookies are great. the ones with the m&m's are pretty tricky though. are you eating a cookie? or are you eating m&m's? you don't know.. because they're stuck together.

these thoughts will be replaced by other more difficult problems.. although not much more difficult.. because i'm a freakin' genius.. come thursday.

this is why i need a time machine. one where i can't mess things up.

where's thursday?

those aren't my shoes. you must be looking at the person next to me's shoes. yeah. that'll work.

i filled my cup half way. or emptied it half way. but it'd have to be full if i were to empty it. so... next time somebody says you're some pessimistic fucker. because you say your glass is half empty. tell them to fuck off. because i'm thinking way too optimistically for you. the glass is half empty because i drank the other half. so rather than getting half a glass to drink.. i'm thinking about getting a whole glass to drink. unless that glass happens to be full of poisons. then you're in trouble. but either way.. i really don't think this makes any sense at all. and i'll just say it's 'half full' because.. 'half empty' has one too many syllables.

will thursday never come?

my bloody valentine - loveless

so.. loveless is an excellent album. kevin shields does this stuff.. and you'll turn to look at him and ask..'what the fuck was that kevin?' but he won't be there. and another song will come on.. and you'll be spinning around in circles trying to find out what's going on.. but it'll be too late. that bald evil guy on the island with the volcano has all the detonation launch super codes.. and the president is being held hostage.. and a laser from a satellite is pointed right at your ass.. even if you're sitting down.. it'll shoot a hole straight through the earth just to get to your ass. but you won't care. you won't care at all. because you're listening to loveless.

i'd say.. 63.5 crayons/64 crayons. like.. you have the box of 64.. but one of the crayons is slightly used. or some body builder borrowed it.. and snapped it in half while he/she was using it.

chi epsilon

these headphones make my ears hot.

the wires on the floor wish they were snakes. i would prefer it if they would remain as wires.

chi epsilon? ha! once again.. uci can kiss my ass.

pills.

pills. certain pills make my head spin. i felt like throwing up. and it didn't quite help the symptoms.

ow.

ow. my chest hurts again.

blurred vision.

if i could only pour my ideas out of my head.. without killing myself. or causing large amounts of brain damage or killing of brain cells.. i'd do it. once my ideas are out though.. i'll need to figure out what to do with them.

-

fuck the dash. fuck the minus. the hyphen.. or all the other stuff that this '-' line represents.

art

even if i wanted to i couldn't write it down.. because i had no idea what i was doing. it sounded nice and all.. but i did't know a thing about it to actually write it out. like the artist without paint and piles of shit for stuff they call art.

drugs.

i need more outlets. and less oddly shaped plugs. but i still don't know what i'm doing. when i think i know what i'm doing.. but i don't. that's when things go wrong. and that's when you burn yourself with a soldering iron or something. and that's when you slice up the side of your foot on something you can't remember.. but you do remember that you sliced up your foot with something.. maybe metal. because there's a scar on the side of your foot now. there's finally a cool breeze passing through my window. or the ice monster is passing gas outside my window. it's fine. it doesn't smell. it's a lot better than the fans and stuff though. my papers don't flap around. i bet if you took acid on a hot day you'd spend your time figuring out ways to keep yourself from melting. and you'd probably kill yourself in doing so.i could be wrong though. i really think i am. don't get any type of hallucinogenic drugs near me.. i'll see some really awful stuff.

i don't think drugs taste the way they should.

shake some action

if i smoked, i'd have an ashtray full of cigarettes. and a blank page.

get something written. it's all there. or here.. but in a bunch of little pieces. i need to figure out how to arrange theses little pieces into something bigger. not like a puzzle. more like cell division or something. i don't know. maybe i'll blame the sun for the lack of ideas. the sun does nothing but cause trouble. lou reed said it best. so unless you're riding into it.. who cares that it's shining. who cares that it makes plants grow. and who cares about the other things it does. but not because of broken hearts. but because it's just way too hot. that's a great song. people have no idea. well. some people do. but most people don't know what the fuck they like.


shake some action. and i'll get it done. it might not be good. but at least it'll be done. and i'll go from there.

hot.

it's hot.
is it too hot?
i think it's hot.
but not too hot.
when it gets hotter than it is right now.
then it'll be too hot.
when my brain melts and pours out of my ears.
then i won't have anything to say about the heat.
maybe.. 'phaaaaaaaaa.. it's hot.'

day 14 - i'm done counting.

water is useful for keeping individuals hydrated on a warm day. and it makes you piss a lot. which is also good.. i think. unless you have to use the bathrooms at the park.. where's the winter. or a cool breeze. or some ice monster that sucks up all the heat because he or she no longer wishes to be an ice monster.. but would really enjoy being a water monster.. and then a vapor monster.

i need a new jacket.. or.. and old one that's new to me.

day 12+1

my drink smells funny. hey, if i die later, sue pepsi for me.

with blood getting cold on the ground.

day 12

i'm not quite sure why i remember things from a week or maybe even months ago.. but i can't remember stuff from 5 minutes ago.

seeing random clips from a doctor performing heart surgery was interesting. the last clip was the heart beating.. it's crazy.



with blood still warm on the ground..

Σ F = 0
Σ M = 0

day 11

dress to kill.

day 10

can you relax a little, please?

table. first law. second law.

day 8/9

i can't remember.. does the midnight thing only apply to cinderella? or do werewolves also fall into that category? like.. midnight! here's a werewolf.

i can't remember..

day 7

it's 7:00am, do you know where your mind is?

day 6

17-1671. i should leave earlier today. if not later. matrices which contain the wrong numbers or variables can be quite troublesome.

day 5

sleep is the problem. all the troubles of trying to sleep and trying to get up would go out the door. and along with it.. messed up dreams about conducting science experiments when a boa constrictor escapes from the teacher's car and slowly slithers toward you.. only to have a giant python flank the hell out of it and they got all tied up like some shoe laces or something.

it was much easier to wake up after that.

day 4

the retarded drummer has gone from drumming at 5 in the afternoon. evening time.. to 9 in the morning. the only way i can describe it is slave drumming. a single beat played over and over and over.. like you see in the movies. row you mother fuckers! there are no rivers where i live. if there were.. and slavery were legal. then i'd understand completely. but fuck! he/she had better be doing flips or some shit like that.. because that's the only way this kind of drumming is entertaining to some people. but the fact that i can't see them drumming.. and the fact that i'm not too entertained by flippy, spinny, dancing drumming.. doesn't help much either.

day 3

today is the real day 3.. unlike the fake day 3 that was yesterday.. which happened to be the real day 2.

a download for an episode of 'highway to heaven' made me think about how i never actually saw the show. but i always saw the credits rolling because cartoons were on after it. cartoon or talk shows with fat people in cake eating contests. i can't remember. all i know is.. they stopped showing cartoons in the mornings. and they stopped showing cartoons in the afternoons or less cartoons. but i'm pretty sure they've stopped completely. so kids these days are turning into retarded fuckers who don't know what the fuck they're doing anymore. also the shitty cartoons they do show.. are drawn by a pencil stuck between somebody's ass cheeks.


checkmate. no wait.. king me.

day 2

i can't remember if this is actually day 2. or day 3. but i'll be calling it day 2. so forget about day 3. in fact.. forget about all 3's. the number 3 is the dork of all numbers. stick a one next to it and it becomes a real fucker for the superstitious.

find your own branch.

day 1

i've been wondering how somebody who's never seen their reflection would react. i'd probably be terrified to drink a glass of water because there would be some tiny chinese person in the glass.. and that's how my day was spent. this as well as other things.. involving numbers and a small amount of letters that represent numbers.

break ice

it would probably feel really good to have a couple of those karate people break a large block of ice with hammers on my stomach.. as i lay on spikes or something. i mean.. the ice part will feel good.. for a couple seconds at least. and if the spikes don't manage to pierce me like.. how they're supposed to.. then i'll be very happy. even if the whole ice block breaking on spikes doesn't happen.. i'll be pretty happy. the only reason a large spike should go through anybody is because they were some bad guy in a movie. yeah.. but ice is very organized. it looks great at the atomic level.

i don't know why i feel so tired.. but the guitar certainly sounds sexy. and the french curvedness of it is also sexy.

whales

if human fat were as valuable as whale fat.. then we'd all look like santa claus.. and some liposuctioned freak will bring us gifts in the summer. but human fat is pretty much worthless.. and so is our vomit. whale vomit on the other hand.. can go for $100 a pound.. if it's the right kind that smells like ass or something. whales are assholes.. i'm only saying that because they can't come on land.


i'm sick of this normal weightedness.

wryyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

if anybody has a problem with mickey mouse.. they'll have to go through me. which will probably be really easy if you have a gun or a knife.. or painful fists and feet. but if you lack those.. and maybe even a broken bottle or something that may cause me to bleed either internally or externally.. preferably externally. then don't fuck with mickey mouse. or do fuck with him. i've completely forgot what i was trying to say. long story short. this glass with mickey mouse on it from mcdonalds.. when disneyworld was celbrating something.. i don't know what exactly.. but the cup says 'remember the magic..' which i won't.. since i've never been to disneyworld.. where am i going with this. yeah. ok. mickey mouse is probably the best mouse in the world. aside from all those lab mice who we perform such terrible tests on.. but they do good work. like giving them the human equivalent of 10,000 apples to determine that apples are carcinogenic.

i remember too too much. half of the stuff i don't intend to remember but i do.. and the other half.. is stuff i should remember but i don't. but it's still too too too too too too too too too much of the stuff i don't intend to remember.. but i do.

wryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

if you understand 'wryyyyyyyyyy!' then you're like above average.. have a glass of whiskey before you sleep. it'll.. i don't know. it's probably better than milk if you're lactose intolerant.. which i'm not..


wryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!

maggot brain

it would be nice if i didn't feel this way on a tuesday. if it was thursday.. then it'd be great. but the extra 'h' and 'r'.. and lack of an 'e' just ruined it.


come on maggot brain..
go on maggot brain..

eddie hazel knows how to make you feel sad.

tremolo

tremolo.

stop me before i start reading. or start me before i stop reading.

eeeed.

i think weed allows you to understand dog.. you know.. like the language dogs speak. either that.. or weed teaches dogs english. beeeeecause.. weeeeed commercials always have talking dogs.. or other stupid ideas. what ever happened to those anti-cigarette commercials? those were much better.. no talking dogs there. there should be a ban on all these smoking type commercials.. because after seeing this talking dog shit.. they only thing that will help even things out is a commercial about how great the flavor country is.. i just feel like terrible after seeing that talking dog. that's like.. 30 seconds of my life i could've spent watching one of those careerbuilder commercials with the monkeys.

i neeeeeed a drink. something's wrong with the 'e' key. but only sometims.. like that time. the extra e's just sounded better.. or.. at the time they did.

chairman mao

seeing as how so many people enjoy 'simpsonizing' themselves.. i decided to try it. mainly to see if you could really make it look like yourself.. because people have some really fucked up simpsons.. but not having the portrait style pictures they need.. i was stuck. until i realized a portrait of chairman mao stares down on all the people at tiananmen's square.. so i uploaded that. and out came a really shitty looking chairman mao. to start things off.. i had to add in the hair.. and what's with them not having mr. burn's hair for me to stick in? that would've been perfect chairman mao hair. and for some reason i can't make him into the wide, fat chinese person that he is. but i was able to stick that face mole on his chin. which made me happy.. but aside from that.. this simpsons mao looks like bear dick. however, mii mao was pretty damn good. aside from the fact that i can't stick the mole on his chin..

chairman mao loves you. or... some of you.

umm.. please stop watching the simpsons so they cancel it. and stop using that stupid website to 'simpsonize' yourself.. because it looks nothing like you. if you can't get chairman mao right.. then there's no reason to do anything else. at least they got spinal tap right.. turn on the lasers!

haha..

ha..


haaa...

ahahhahahhahaha.. ahahahahhhahaaaaahahhaahahah.
ahahahahahahahhhahaa.. ahahhhaaahhahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...




mickey mouse watches are fantastic. also cookies are fantastic. also things which are fantastic are fantastic. um.. cookies shaped like mickey mouse watches.. aren't as fantastic however. and cookies used as mickey mouse watches may attract ants if you fall asleep in the park. or you know.. little mexican kids if you go to edison park.

does anybody else get gene hackman and bill murray mixed up.. you shouldn't right? it's sort of like how i used to get pomona and pasadena mixed up. now it's easier to distinguish. pomona is the one i go to. and pasadena is the one my brother goes to. and both have equally as loud fobs that enjoy yelling at each other when they talk.

less

-"I didn't know it was loaded" is not an acceptable excuse. "I wasn't there" or "I never met those people" are better excuses.



i could've put less thought into this. as well as other things. and that's exactly what i'll be doing now.

ok

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...


uhhhhhhhh...


uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...


uuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhh
h
h
h
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh









ok.

feeling the awfuls

what a terrible night to have a curse.

knife

what's going to end up happening is.. a knife is going to be stuck in my left hand. not stuck.. like i'm holding it really tightly.. but stuck. like it's through my hand. and it's a very serious medical situation type thing. i'll probably leave before the ambulance arrives though. because i think gauze will fix everything. what do you mean it doesn't? don't tell me i need leeches.

and that's what's going to happen when you get me, a watch case that won't open, and a knife together. hey. if there's anything as thin and rigid as a knife i'd like to know. well. surgical tools maybe.. but i'm not that stupid.. well. i am. but i don't have the money for surgical tools.


i'm somewhat affraid of sleeping. after thinking that you're pretty much half dead while you do so. also my mind can be a terrible place to spend 6-10 hours every night. but seeing as how i lose my mind when i don't get at least a couple hours of sleep.. i guess it's worth dealing with thoughts like.... um.. dwight from the office chopping your arms off with a katana.. or governor arnold chasing you down in a hummer. those stand out for some reason. or that one dream i had when i was little.. where a couple of robbers were in the house. and i tried pulling some home alone type shit.. by pouring a bunch of sunny delight.. across the floors trying to make them slip. it didn't work out too well. also we had those western swingy doors instead of our regular ones.

yeah right this is 10% of my brain at work.

watch

i need a new watch battery. but instead of that.. i bought a new watch. a better watch. mickey mouse is on this watch. so when i want to know what time it is.. mickey mouse will tell me the time. he lets me call him mick sometimes.. i'll say. 'hey mick, what's the time?' and he'll point towards some numbers and show me. then i'll ask him again an hour later.. and he'll be pointing at the same numbers.. because this watch also needs a new watch battery. and he doesn't let me call him mick anymore.


the blob is a winner. and we're not.

quiz

yes. today was a good day. top of the morning and stuff. i said. 'take that, thermo quiz!' obeyed the hell out of the first law. and used proper engineering problem solving techniques to arrive at the conclusion.. that quality is the mass of the vapor divided by the total mass. which is equal to the mass flow rate of the vapor divided by the total mass flow rate. people like to overthink.. i'll start overthinking as soon as somebody tells me i'm thinking too much. so far.. all i've gotten was my history teacher telling me to write in complete sentences. which is understandable.. because my answers look really retarded... or not really.. i really think she doesn't like my group.

cardigans are very fashionable. oversized. normal sized. undersized. full of holes.. etc. and the other etc. but none of that zipper shit. buttons are the way to go. buttons are also very fashionable.. except for the button fly pants.. cause if you need to pee. and i mean.. really need to pee. you panic. and buttons become difficult. but it sort of makes the urination more enjoyable with all the relief and stuff.

sound

i believe i'm no longer making noise. i am now making sound.. not quite music yet though. but sound is much more pleasing to the ear than noise. i blame the more sophisticated music i've been listening to recently. not really.. sophisticated. but i didn't know what else to say.. if you want.. i can say this. it requires no thinking. unless you're reading it.

music i are listened to is being good of the nature for ear tone. highly standard lacking not awful notes now with three and more playings. find me out when in the morning. tomorrow for me is will be good for fingers when i cut them to the nail get shorter. do. re. mi.

ass graft

and when i thought i sounded bad.. this thai guy on youtube said to me.. 'nelson. no. this is how you sound bad.' and i was just blown away by such shitty sound. like his playing made my speakers grow a digestive system.. just so they could produce the shit that he's making with his voice and guitar. mainly the guitar. and then he has a little video of him sounding very good.. because he's faking the playing and singing. he has some cd or something of the choir's it's cold outside. and that's just a brilliant song. so it was upsetting to see him do that.

and to top it off.. he says. 'I don't think I ever played so good. It is a great song it just has so much energy.'

if i ever see this guy get famous.. i'm telling my doctor to take some of my ass meat and graft it over my ears so i won't need to hear his garbage.. and if you ever see me get famous.. i'll pay for your ass grafts.. or send you a postcard. whichever you prefer.

dreamt

did i dream how the world was going to end? it was really weird stuff. like.. it started out really normal.. then it's like the future wanted to fuck with us.. so they sent this frozen explosion with a sign next to it for us to look at.. i forgot what it said.. but there was this explosion outside my window and it was just stuck there. sort of like a mushroom cloud.. but it wouldn't go away. it was motionless. then later after that went away.. there was like a cult outside my window. all these people and cars and stuff. and they were being very cult-like.. then we had to get on a train.. because something was going to happen. and i saw my brother. and we really really looked terrible. imagine us looking like shit.. we looked worse than that. and i woke up after getting on the train..

when i fell asleep again.. i was like.. a security guard or something at big lots... or whatever the new pic and save is. and i locked my keys in my car or something. or i got into a fight in the parking lot.. something happened in the parking lot. i don't remember. i should write this down when i wake up.

i think melatonin does more than help me sleep..

last time i took it i dreamed about a sapphire blue spider with fangs on its ass. and it was really big. and it was next to a doorknob. and i had to open the door.. but the spider was there. so i took a ruler.. knocked it off the doorknob.. then pinned it down with the ruler. and its ass popped. and i didn't even open the door after that.


dreams are rather bland without it.

monster

there must be some leaf monster outside.. because all i've heard for the past 3 hours is somebody's leaf blower. i just don't know if i want to go out and help. if they happen to be eucalyptus leaves.. i'll need to get a koala. or fire. either one will work. monsters hate fire. unless it's a fire monster. and koalas aren't cute at all.. they look all grouchy.. like somebody's made them drink too much coffee and they haven't slept in 9 weeks. they're the real monster.

lines

i get it and i don't get it at the same time. these sleeping pills are supposed to make some brain juice that makes you sleep or something. but how do they know that this particular brain juice makes you sleep? biology is an ass for an assless man. i don't know what that means. and i really don't care. as long as nobody is drinking my brain juice.. and the pills aren't the kind that make you see weird stuff. really weird stuff. seeing that line on the floor move doesn't count. and that acid test shirt that my professor wore doesn't count either.. but that shirt was just a bunch of stripes. but they really looked like they were moving around. my eyes really don't like to keep things still.. especially lines that have absolutely no reason to be moving around. unlike lines of cocaine.. which the extremely rich enjoy moving into their nose and through their bloodstream.

rotate.

i got a 20/20. and an 'excellent!' on my homework. then i noticed i had a bruise on my knee. must have been from when i kneed. kneeed. knee-ed. that's really confusing. but it must have been from when i kneed that car during one of those street fighter bonus rounds.. or i probably got it from rotating around in my turny chair and banging my knee into the junk under my desk. i blame the chair company for making my chair rotate. and i blame myself for finding enjoyment in rotating around in a chair.

and that's why the side of my knee is blue. internal damage is the best.

voodoo

my leg felt funny. and when i looked down at it there was a bunch of blood on it. and it was all coming from this really small cut. i don't think that makes any sense. small cuts shouldn't produce large amounts of blood. or maybe it's some conservation of mass type thing.. where a shit load of blood needs to pour out so you don't screw with the laws of physics.. we need some amendments to that stuff.

but yeah. i cleaned it up and stuff. but i still don't know how i got the cut. so if you're pulling some curse type stuff. with voodoo dolls and pins and knives or something.. it would be nice if you wouldn't give me random cuts. also stick a couple hundred bucks in my hand. and stop sticking pins in my eyes in the morning.

this is probably what i get for picking baron samedi in goldeneye all the time.. or not so much anymore. but when that used to be the game to play. hey. anybody who can run around in a tophat and no pants.. and just shoot all sorts of breathing holes in you is pretty fantastic.

stolen chair

i stole this chair and it smells like urine. there's no such thing as good smelling urine.. unless you're a monster that pisses oranges or something. if you happen to be that monster. please piss on my chair. and remove the armrests.. but what the hell. the armrests are keeping the chair together.. so i can't take them off. so i have to hold my guitar at such weird angles because the armrests get in the way. or i'm forced to make noise on the guitar while standing up.


the black & whites - you're the only girl
it's brilliant. only if you're into that stuff. most people aren't because they don't use their ears properly. ha!

quatro de Julio

somebody's fireworks sound like a really really thick fart.. the kind that's extremely dense gas that emits some low pitched bass fart. or you know.. maybe it wasn't some fireworks. maybe somebody was standing outside of my window letting out identical sounding farts a couple seconds apart. i'll never know though. because i didn't look out and check.

above the influence

how much is being spent on these above the influence commercials? because you could just take that money.. and really do some good. cancer research is always nice. we need more cancer research commercials. but why don't we ever see cancer research commercials? because they don't want to fuck around with our money.

i need either more power outlets. or less plugs. either or. i bite my thumb at them.

powerpearls

if your ears were to separate from your body.. and not die from the lack of blood and nerve endings and or whatever the hell it is that keeps your ears warm and functional.. they'd go from record shop to record shop until they've found this Powerpearls series. or at least.. that's what my ears would do. your ears might.. join together and fly around like a butterfly.. see. they're much more difficult to find when they're like that. and they'll buy gas cans and burn things. so. either don't let your ears separate from you.. or listen to the Powerpearls series so your ears will have something to look forward to when they're free.

propaganda

i may or may not have cut my hair too short. and i may or may not have noticed that i cut my hair too short. i'd say.. mostly may. but toss in a couple not's and we'll have an argument because i really did cut my hair too short. oh well. at least the hair does what it likes to do... grow. and be black. and not take bird shit.

i think something's wrong with my ears. like i'm hearing stuff. but it's not as loud as it should be. also it's somewhat delayed if i'm not focusing on it. i blame einstein. i already made relativity my bitch.. no need to go through that stuff again. but um.. the photoelectric effect.. that's another story. no bitch making there. or maybe i did make it my bitch and i don't know about it yet. like.. you.. are not my bitch.. yet... and now my ears want to make things all loud. music is just brilliant stuff.

isn't it strange how a 5 week history course will tell you most shit you ever heard in a 5 week span? just relax. everybody needs to relax. if i ever found a college of some sort.. the whole mantra thing will be.. 'can you relax? just relax.' and i'll tell anybody who applied to UCI to fuck off. unless they're upset about not being accepted. then hey.. let's go vandalize some stuff and steal their rabbits. nerds at UCI are no help.

i think that the signs around campus that have the warning about high voltage is brilliant... there's this electric monster shocking the hell out of some person retarded enough to touch dangerous electrical stuff while not grounded... but what do i know about electricity.. i shocked myself when i was unplugging my printer. my pinky wouldn't stop moving. who needs drugs when you go electricity to make you do stuff you don't want to. in the future drugs will be replaced by super controlled electricity that'll just re-wire your mind momentarily. or not. i know nothing about drugs.

see. chinese poets would get drunk and do their poetry thing. i say.. 'no beber' to reclaimed water. and that's what the signs on campus tell me. i do as they say. if they ever make a sign that says. jump here.. and it's at a cliff. i just may do it. i just won't jump forward like retards will.. and i'll live.

drug music

i like drug music. you should too.

i'm making history my bitch. time machines for sale.

eggplants

i thought eggplants were poisonous. i don't know why. probably because of that eggplant fucker from the kid icarus game on the nintendo. he'd toss eggplants at you.. and if you got hit you'd have to walk around with this eggplant stuck to your head. and you looked like a dork. don't ever go near one-eyed eggplants that are wearing robes and shouting at you. eggplants are weird.

i happen to be very far ahead with my readings and stuff. like.. i'm so far ahead that when i turn around.. i see myself. what does that even mean? if i ever turned around and saw myself.. i'd just freak out.. and my head would explode or something. note to self.. never travel through time to surprise yourself.. myself.

chase

my nose is runny. i think i'm getting sick or something. but it's cool. as long as i don't sneeze in anybody's face it's cool. or maybe i'm too cool. and that's why i'm getting sick.

leave all such chasing to the police.. and the people behind me because i'm fast. and when you get those high speed chases.. those are the best. they usually end with people laying on the hot pavement and burning themselves because they decided to drive around in circles thinking the 50 police cars.. and the helicopter. and the thousands of people watching.. would get tired of him driving around in circles. but they don't. it's kind of like nascar.. except the driver isn't getting paid for driving in circles.. they get to go to jail.

and.. if you're drinking and decide to try out a high speed chase you'll just end up splashing yourself with.. i don't know.. battery acid. because you enjoy the taste of it. either that.. or. glue.. you drink some really messed up stuff. so you know what. just leave any sort of chasing to the professionals.. they're called the retarded kids from the lucky charms commercials. you can't catch a leprechaun named lucky.. who has hearts, stars, clovers, horseshoes, and blue moons. pots of gold and rainbows, and the red balloon. i think that's all of them.

endorphins

more things need to be like those old timey bikes with the big wheel in the front.

less things need to be like US history. especially the kind you learn in 5 weeks.

the sun needs to relax a little. or greenhouse gases need to relax. you know.. like spray some endorphins up there or something. how many zombies do we need, to gather up the correct amount of brains, so we can spray the sky with endorphins? and even if it doesn't do anything for global warming.. at least people will be feeling pretty good about things.. unless their brains were used for the spray. or if i have my biology completely wrong and endorphins aren't made in the brain.. and they make you feel like you're eyes are under very intense pressure. like a fat man is sitting on them while farting.


dear biology,

i don't like you.

love,
nelson

it smells like cheese. french cheese.

what am i going to call it? rice krispies and lemonade? that's how it all sounds to me. at least through these headphones.. that's how it sounds. it has the same snappingly, crackingly, poppingly of rice krispies. and for some reason i think that sounds english. like.. english muffins aren't as nice as regular muffins. and not quite as nice as this big muff pi that i spent my money on. very crunchy sounding. like.. somebody stuck their leg in a bone crushing machine. and out came this wonderful sound of chopped up soundwaves with a dash of mrs. dash.. she's such an asshole. everybody likes distortion right? like. your face is distorted and it's extremely attractive. like you stuck a magnet in your face.. and i'm made of metal. that sort of thing. or the other way around.. with the metal face and magnets being me. dr. doom is so sexy..

i managed to find this series of superstastic powerpop called powerpearls. 10 volumes of the best music you've ever heard.. but you haven't heard it yet.. because this stuff is extremely obscure. like.. you get this german powerpop. and you have no idea what they're saying.. but it's like.. fuck. you fucking nazis know how to make stuff extremely bubble-gummy. and you get japanese powerpop. tojo knows how to make stuff move. so basically.. world war 2 knows how to play some nice powerpop. this stuff is fantastic. trashy.. yet extremely catchy. usually you throw trash out. i tend to let it pile up.. and then throw it out. i'll say it's a good 3 feet high now. or a yard. or exactyl 91.44cm. because the metric system is the best system ever.. right after the super nintendo. and maybe the other nintendo systems.

i've grown slightly fond of the whole 'whiskey and gin' thing. let's all drink to the death of a clown and such.

i want to say.. something smells like cheese. but nothing does.

!

finals

you always tell your finals not to fuck with you. but the first thing they do is.. they fuck with you.

if you really don't want to take your finals.. you can always bring a lot of soup to class. and instead of taking your final.. you'll have 2 hours to enjoy some soup.

or you can study. or not study because you're such a genius like me and spend half your studying time staring at the price of a guitar hoping it will magically change for some reason. i did manage to get it to $1400 from $1999.. but no magic was involved. i just found a new place to stare.

energy drinks make me pee.

el carios

it would be nice to know spanish.. or some form of it. after somebody wrote 'el carios' in the dirt on my dirty car i went and checked a spanish to english dictionary and got nothing. so either this is some mexican slang that the people who make dictionaries like to overlook.. or whoever wrote that needs to learn some spanish.. or let me know if its portuguese or something. but looking at it backwards.. you get soiracle.. sort of like.. miracle. but with soy. you also get.. 'is car, ole!' after rearranging a bit.

if dyslexic vandals are learning spanish or english.. you let them write on your car. let them write whatever they want..

they did it with such neat penmanship. their finger was probably all grayed up with dirt after they were through.

2 weeks. kapow!

if school was a couple weeks shorter.. i'd do a lot better. unless i was on the semester system. because a couple weeks shorter there means i'm stuck with this awful 10 week system.. where everything just turns really awful around week 7. awful like the way milk is after it's milk.. but before it's cheese.. or yogurt or something.. i don't know. how does milk work?

i'm stupid.

good day.