Thursday, September 08, 2005

Fucking Republican Slime

Somebody should assassinate Pat Robertson. It's called karma, bitch. That fucking asshole was talking about the hurricane and said that "Judge [John] Roberts should be happy that a little tragedy has brought him some good." You're fucking kidding me, right? John Roberts should be happy that thousands of people died, which just happened to take attention away from the debate on if he should be a Supreme Court Justice? Fuck off, Robertson.
And you, too, Barbara Bush. Yeah, that's right. I'm telling a former first lady to fuck off. I was reading the NYTimes yesterday and, while at the Astrodome/Refugee Center, she said "And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this — this is working very well for them." What the fuck is going on? I'm alright with freedom of fucking speech, but have some fucking tact to go the fuck with it. Fucking republican, conservation, religious slime. I'm sure Homeland Security or Secret Service is looking this over because I decided to mention the old hag, but that's just too fucking far. Not everyone gets to live off of oil money in a nice house and is a "priority" to be evacuated if disaster ever comes their way. Fucking scum. Someone needs to make them "underprivileged" for a while so they can understand a little better. And, Goddamn it, yesterday, when I first read that old bitch's comment, I was in class with another annoying bitch. I was visibly pissed and the annoying bitch asked me what was wrong. I said "Fucking Barbara Bush," and the annoying bitch just kind of laughed and said, "Oh, that. Heh." You have no clue how close I was to just striking her across the face right then. Fucking republicans, sticking together like mindless drones. Fucking republicans.

There's one thing that I should mention. I've been watching the British show "The Office" over the last few days, and the theme song got stuck in my head. I decided to look it up and it turns out that the song was most famously done by Rod Stewart and the Faces. Now, this came as a complete surprise to me, so I researched it a little more. It turns out that it was on the record simply called "The Rod Stewart Album," which surprised me yet again because I actually have that LP. What surprised me the most: the song is pretty damn good. My LP version is a bit heavy on the instruments and the vocals get lost every now and then, but it's still good. The digital version was remixed, it seems, because it's pretty balanced.

Fucking republicans.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Thank you, Trisha, for sending your people back in time 1000 years

So, I really like the website digg. It's a great resource for all things tech and geek. I haven't actually registered yet to "digg" stories, but I hit the site at least three times a day to see what's new.
So, just a few minutes ago, I went there and the first article has the horrible title of "North Korea doesn't love Google long time." It seems that Google Earth, the wonderful little spy-type program that Google has put out with detailed satellite pictures of the entire planet, shows where all the bases and official residences are in South Korea. Since Google Earth is available to anyone, the South Korean government is freaking out because now North Korea has access to these maps. Okay, look, let's straighten something out. North Korea already had this information. North Korea not knowing where military bases and special spots are in South Korea is like Canada not knowing where the White House is. Second, sure, North Korea knows where South Korea's shit is, but it works both ways. Now, South Korea can know where North Korean stuff is, which seems like that would be more important in the long run. But, if logic follows, South Korea knows where North Korea's shit was already, since that's like a U.S. citizen not knowing where Toronto is. Wait, dude, shit, where is Toronto?
Anyway, enough of the subversive civics lesson.
Over the last 24 hours, I've become addicted to this game, Patience. It's a difficult but amazingly addictive game that I have lost several hours to, "Just one more game, then I'll stop." The only reason I stopped last night was because my eyes were burning too much and I needed to sleep.
Ah, Labor Day. So nice, so slow. Too bad it's almost over.
The SotP from last time was Smokey Robinson and the Miracles' Tears of a Clown. Stevie Wonder came up with the music, and if anyone has heard anything off of Songs to the Key of Life, it shows. The song is essentially the same song as the Miracles' Tracks of My Tears, about a guy who lost his love but is constantly around her, trying to put off a happy vibe.
Song of the Post: "She came down from Cincinnati; / it took her three days on a train. / Lookin' for some peace and quiet, / hopes to see the sun again."

Sunday, September 04, 2005

Birthday, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, Boxing Day, and any other holiday all wrapped up in one

Man, I think I'm in love. Yeah, this is ultra-geeky, super-dorky, and quite-a-bit-nerdy, but, man, this is just awesome. Somebody has created the modern-day equivalent to a padd from Star Trek with the Oqo. This micro-computer runs Windows XP and most applications. It's essentially a laptop that is about the size of a quarter of a piece of paper, and just under an inch thick; we're talking roughly Ipod size here. It has a 1 gigahertz processor, 256 megs of RAM, a 20 gig hard drive, built-in microphone, a thumb keyboard, and on and on. It costs just shy of two grand, which, considering how frickin' awesome this thing is, is a hell of a deal. It won't play hardcore games, but that's not really the idea. This is essentially the mother of all PDAs. It has wireless and Bluetooth support, and a video on the site shows some actual occupation related applications, like doctors filing charts and diagnosing patients with it at bedside. Yes, I'd use it to watch videos, but I'm sure I'd use if for other things, as well. The site also says that the hard drive heads will automatically stop and protect themselves if the device registers that it is freefalling. The battery is only ranked for 3 hours of life, but if it's smart and they do what Creative did with their Zen Micro, by plugging it into the wall, it should charge the battery and work at the same time. Man, this is just friggin' awesome.
Also, I found (well, someone on digg.com found ) this opinion article/blog entry about whether bootlegging and pirating really costs the recording and movie industries anything. The man has some good points about whether or not people would actually have gone out and bought the CD in the first place if downloading hadn't been an option. It also gave him some "street-cred" when he pointed out that he had written several books that were currently on the net. It's a pretty smart article that makes some good points.
God, I hate work.
And new people.
And airhead blondes.
With really nice legs.
But who curse like a sailor while watching a college football game at work.
Yeah, there's a story that'll be told later tonight, I'm sure.
Ah, Song of the Post time. Last time's SotP was Jimmy Buffett's cold-weather-drive-me-insane song Boat Drinks. Buffett has to deal with always being thought of as "The Margaritaville Guy," which was made fun of in Broken Lizard's Club Dread as Bill Paxton's character claimed that a "Son of a son of a bitch" stole his hit song, "Pina Colata Town," or some nonsense like that. Anyway, Boat Drinks is the story of a man stuck in a place he desperately wants to leave and goes a little crazy while there. It's a fun song that adds to Buffett's light-hearted image, and it's a song that I think is far better than Margaritaville.
Song of the Post: "Now if I appear to be carefree, / It's only to camouflage my sadness, / And honey to shield my pride I try / To cover this hurt with a show of gladness. / But don't let my show convince you / That I've been happy since you / Decided to go."

Friday, September 02, 2005

Where it all ends, I can't fathom, my friends...

Man, I love Fridays where you don't have to do anything. No class, no work, and a handful of errands that could wait until tomorrow if I'm so inclined. Ah.
Okay, so, I was Stumbling again (it's my new favorite hobby) and found this hilarious website called In Passing.... This woman overhears insanely stupid things and puts them on her blog. Here are a few favorites:

"Mom, I need to go to the bathroom."
"God, sweetie, what have I told you about TMI? I didn't need to know that, and neither did anyone else here."
--A girl who looked to be about 4, and her mother, in line for checkout at Andronico's.

"His phrasing is weird, it's offbeat. He's not pausing at the commas. Hear that? Wait a minute... Dude, he's pausing at the big words."
--A girl watching Bush's press conference on the TV in the lobby of my hotel. (FinalJump's Note: I've actually observed this presidential tendency myself, so I can't blame the girl for saying it)

"So I get home, and she's sitting at the kitchen table with a notebook, counting all the carrot sticks."
"Again?"
--Two women talking outside Pegasus books

"Good call on the reservations. Makes it look like there was advance planning."
"There was. We made reservations."
"You know..."
--Two women arguing in the bathroom at P.F. Changs

"It's smoking. What's wrong with it?"
"That's steam. Are you not familiar with things that are hot?"
--A girl and a guy outside the Cheeseboard pizza shop.

(FinalJump's Note: This one's for the dwainker)
"I asked for Guinness and this is obviously Lagunitas. Guinness isn't clear. Guinness isn't golden. How do you get those two confused? Can no one hear me? This is what's wrong with life. This is the way the world ends. Lagunitas for Guinesss, boom."
--A girl at Cafe du Nord, at the Mike Doughty concert

And finally:
"Gina is a dum ho."
"The defense rests, your honor."
--Written on the wall of a construction site near Lexington & 59th.

Ah, stupid people: you make the world go round and make it miserable for the rest of us.
So, I think I might be bipolar, or manic depressive, or whatever the newest term is. I came to this realization when I noticed that I have days that are essentially exactly the same, but some are really good and others are really bad. There are days where I cannot laugh at anything, and days where I'm in an extremely good mood for no reason at all. I mean, just look back through the blog and you see days of total snarkness due to a bad mood, and then there are posts were it's all lighthearted. Sometimes you can see that swing within a post. I don't know, maybe I just want to get in on the "crazy like everybody else" craze. Heh, a crazy craze. Stupid punny language.
So, in the non-structured day that has just passed, I've played a lot of Xbox. Not a 12-hour marathon, but it's been a lot of go in, play Star Wars: Battlefront for a couple of levels, turn the box off, do something else, go back to the living room, lather, rinse, repeat. I beat the game long ago (no, no silly Star Wars pun there) and now just keep playing a couple of battles over and over again. The one that's probably most fun for me is the Battle of Geonosis, from the end of Episode II. I choose to play a Republic pilot and jump in one of the gunships and just blast every fucking droid away. Oh, my God! One time I played it and scored 128 kills and no deaths. Now, considering that the Confederacy only gets 220 troops for the entire battle, that's just awesome. Yes, I know, I'm betraying the Joe Normal score I got on the nerd/geek/dork test, but that game is a blast. I figured that it'd be boring, since it has only about 13 battles that would play through the same way each time, but the battles are pretty fresh each time, which is pretty cool.
So, I joined facebook a couple of weeks ago, but didn't put any information up. At all. So, for about a month, the only info there was my name and where I went to school. A good friend of mine, who was the only person that I told about my signing up, finally sent me a message that told me that I needed to update my info, and that I would only get out of facebook what I put in. Now, considering that I wasn't really expecting/wanting to get anything out of facebook, I thought about just ignoring it. But, for some reason, her message got through to me and I put some info up. Mainly it was the basics: favorite movies, music, and books, and what I did at my job. I listed Rod Stewart as one of my favorite musicians, and then today I got this invite to a facebook group called Rod Stewart Rocks! Now, look, there's no way I'm joining this group. I'll be honest: I'm listening to a Rod Stewart song as I type this paragraph. However, there is no way that I will belong to a group called Rod Stewart Rocks. My brain forbids it, my soul forbids, and my right index finger forbids itself from clicking "confirm invite." It's not an embarrassment issue, it's just the principle of the matter. There are groups for several other musicians on my list, but I have no plan on joining those, either. After getting that e-mail, I started looking at other groups on facebook, just to see what's out there. There's "I went to a public school, bitch," which the title gives the only real character to. There are several devoted to basketball, which is depressing. "Saved by the Bell rocked my world" is equally depressing. Ultimately, I think that facebook is just a method for implying socialization without actually doing it. It's also a vain attempt to try and be cool. For instance, there's a celebrity who went to our school and has a profile on facebook, which has led well over 3000 students here to "become friends" with her. I find it kind of sad, actually. I also decided to search for my high school and see who I knew on there and where they ended up. First, almost no one from my class is on there. Second, there were a few people one there who I've know since they were extremely young, like five to my ten, for instance. Now, some of them have graduated high school and are off to college. God, that made me feel a bit old. The only plus that I've run into involving facebook was that it reminded me about my old friend from the last post. It didn't give me her e-mail or anything like that, it just had a picture that made me go, "Wow, I should send her an e-mail." So, what exactly, my dear last-name-that-no-one-can-ever-pronounce-correctly, can I get out of facebook? That sounds a lot harsher than it should, by the way.
So, since the SotP from last time is currently playing on Winamp, I guess that it's a hint to wrap this post up. The SotP from last time was Peter Gabriel's Solsbury Hill. The song is just frickin' awesome. I've already talked about interpretations, so I'll leave that alone. Last summer (not the one we're currently living in, the summer of '04), I had to leave my college town and go back home to work. I really didn't want to. There was a lot of stuff going on that I knew if I went home would all fall apart. I didn't have a car at the time and my father was going coming to pick me up. I delayed as long as possible. I seriously dreaded going home. One day, Solsbury Hill was playing and I realized how true the lyrics rang with me, with, obviously, the line "'Son,' he said, 'Grab your things, / I've come to take you home.'" hitting me the most. Home was the last place I wanted to go, but, of course, ended up there anyway. It was a pretty worthless summer. And, of course, things fell apart back here, too. I hate always being right.
Yeah, so, there you are. I started this post out quite happy, and now it's a pretty depressing post.
Alright, so, I guess it's time for the Song of the Post: "I know I should be leaving this climate. / I got a verse and can't rhyme it." Wow. I love Songfacts. This song has a funny little story behind it from the artist themselves, their self, themself (I don't know, take your pick. Stupid genderless grammar):
"It was February in Boston, and I was cold and wanted to go home. Rum and tonic was the antifreeze, and the newspaper was full of ads for warmer climates. I was in a place owned by Derek Sandersen, who was a very famous player for the Boston Bruins in the '70s. I came out of the bar and couldn't find a cab except for the one that was running in front of the nearby hotel. There was no driver in it, and I was too cold to care about the consequences. There is an old Navy expression which says, 'Beg forgiveness, not permission.' I hopped in and drove back to my hotel. I did leave the fare on the seat."

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

As sure as night is dark and day is light...

Well, dwain has pointed out that it's been some time since he read any good news. Now, while "news" is rarely of the good variety, I kind of find myself agreeing with him. After all, it's been raining here for the last three or four days, but it feels like it's been months since we last saw the sun. Today it stopped raining, but it was still this semi-miserable day. So, of course, that puts essentially the entire town into a depressing mood (and also seems to make people forget how to drive). Also, this hurricane puts a damper on people's spirits, regardless of whether it directly affects them or not. The mayor of New Orleans is stating that thousands are dead, which seems to me to be through stupidity in evacuation methods more than anything else. I mean, taking people and stuffing them into a football stadium? Yeah, let's put thousands in a huge bowl and not expect for a frickin' class-5 hurricane to blow a hole in the roof. Makes perfect sense to me. I was stumbling about two weeks ago and found this website and it gave me a laugh at the time. However, when you look at that map, it does make you wonder just a little bit. I mean, God's got more important stuff to do, right? Now, however, the map is just a little morbid. You can shrug it off and point out that several southern states voted for Bush, it's just a coincidence, but there's this little voice in the back of my head that says, "Yeah, but those paths are a little suspicious."
So, anyway, because of dwain's comments, I decided to embark on a quest to find good news. Not funny news, but good, "restoring-faith-in-the-human-spirit" news. Oy. What have I done.
The first thing I came upon was this article. As a guy, this makes me cringe, big time. It also is not rooted in a "good news" sort of way, but I like that someone is standing up and trying to stop a horrible and extremely dangerous tradition. Now, I'm not blind, and I can read between the lines a bit. South Africa is one of the most racist countries in the world, and the inventor of this device is a white woman. I get the feeling that the majority of these, ugh, devices will be distributed to white women to "protect" them from black men. However, rapex could easily be given to black women as well for the same purposes.
So, after some digging and sorting through some non-Katrina related stories, I did find this bit of good news. I might not be around in 10 million years, but it's nice to know that guys might (assuming we don't develop some marvelous method for wiping ourselves out in the meantime).
Now, maybe this seems a little too "good," but there is this site, which covers good news events. It seems a little dated, but they're working on a new site, so their time is split.
This one makes me happy, since I just got off the phone from a two hour conversation.
Finally, there was this story that actually had some of that faith-restoring power. Just that one line, "You don't want to hurt your neighbor," said a lot to me.
So, yeah, the bad overpowers the good in the news. But maybe the day when we report good news as if it were the rarity and not the common is the day that I might just want to check out.
In my psych class this morning, the teacher pointed out how people in New Orleans were looting, but in some cases it was for food and water. The question was whether or not that was really wrong. The story of Jean Valjean comes to mind, the man who stole a loaf of bread to feed his sister and her kids. He didn't steal it for himself, mind you, but did it for others. He gets caught, does his time, and yet Javert dogs him for stealing that loaf for the rest of his life. Valjean was a man who did an act which was legally wrong but morally right. However, the looters in New Orleans aren't looting for that reason. Sure, they're taking care of their families, but they're really screwing over all the other families. Stealing food to feed yours first takes away from the people who might need it more at that moment. Additionally, stealing food and water for the purpose of selling it is even worse.
Alright, now for a little "outside-my-little-corner-of-the-world" stuff. Today in methods, we discussed how isolated Americans generally are. We have a comfort zone and most try to never leave it. Of course, this ends up with Americans believing that they are really the only ones that matter or have certain problems ever happen to them. I heard a lot of people say that Americans were lucky because something like the Boxing Day Tsunami of 2004 had never happened to us. Welcome to the big leagues of disaster, boys and girls. No, it's nowhere near the size, scope, or devastation as what happened "over there," but it's a nice little black eye to remind us that nothing is ever going to happen to just one place. Americans generally don't realize that they need to be part of a global community and stop whining when things don't go their way.
As dwain pointed out, the Iraqi bridge incident is pretty bad, but anyone who cared could see some sort of event coming. But, of course, most Americans don't care, they just notice that the American dead from the Iraqi Mission (It's not a war, not yet a quagmire) is around 1800, and are absolutely appalled by it. Okay, first, look at a different set of numbers. Second, let's compare. American deaths, according to this website are at 1882, overall. Now, in WWII, American dead numbered 405,399. Doing some simple math, WWII lasted 1397 days, meaning that there were 290 deaths, on average, each day. Now, the Iraqi Mission has lasted 896 days and the average is 2.1 deaths per day. Why on Earth do people keep bringing up these "devastating" casualties as reasons why the war is wrong? People point to 2.1 American deaths per day, but they ignore the at least 27.3 Iraqi civilian deaths over the same average 24 hours. Yeah, you know, the Iraqi civilians, the ones who we're giving democracy to, the ones we're there to, um, protect. Nice work, folks.
Who wants to be the last man to die in the Middle East?
I've made jokes riffing off Springsteen about how we can put a rifle in somebody's hand, send them off to a foreign land, so they can kill the yello--I mean, Arabian man (By the way, I finally got that acoustic version of Born in the USA. It's actually really, really good. He holds one bit too long--the "he's all gone" line--but it's amazingly good otherwise). However, I also realize that this war is nothing but trouble, and the problem is how to get out. I look at it and know that we can't just pack up and leave in the middle of the night. That would render undoubtedly more than 30,000 lives lost meaningless. Yet how many more lives does it cost to make it worth it, and, really, what makes it worth it? Giving a people a republic government is just going to end up with some dictator in power that people all over the world will hate. I think America proved that one true all on its own. In fact, America has never been a really good team player in the global community, but we just haven't learned how to butt out yet. Okay, maybe we can ensure safety for America, and maybe the world, from "terrorists." Well, maybe not. Um, cheaper fuel prices? Ha! I laugh at your gullibility. First, duh. Second, do you really think that the best way to spend billions and billions of dollars was on a method to keep us addicted to a non-renewable energy? And third, duh. I mean, come on. I'll take any guess you've got. But, I swear to God, if your guess includes the term "Axis of Evil," I will hunt you down. You buy into that soundbyte and you are just too Republican for your own good.
Okay, enough ranting about the world.
I recently got in touch with an old friend. She and I have technically known each other since before birth, as our mothers knew each other in lamaze class. We were pretty good friends though high school, with the only real difference between us being that she was a firm vegan and, as anyone who has eaten a meal around me knows, I am firmly not anywhere near a vegan. We kind of lost touch after the first year of college, despite the fact that she was at a university less than two miles away from mine. Anyway, the other day, I was looking up fellow alums from my high school on facebook to see where they had ended up and found my friend's entry. After a little mulling, I dropped her an e-mail to find out what she was up to, having just finished up an anthropology degree. She responded promptly that she had just moved to Michigan to go to MSU's law school. She thought it was an interesting coincidence that I e-mailed her that day because, in her first class, she sat next to a guy who (at least she claims) is my twin, which made her feel a lot more comfortable there. I guess that's nice, since she has that trademark southern twang to her voice, which she said makes her stand out in Michigan. I guess if you move that far away, you embrace that which looks familiar, which I guess implies something about our friendship, given that she hasn't seen me in four years. I'm not entirely sure why I'm putting this up. Oh, well.
Alright, so, I guess I should do some SotP catch-up. The last, formal SotP was Phil Collins' Something Happened on the Way to Heaven, is a seriously upbeat song that deals with lost love. Yeah, bit of an oxymoron there. The song is pretty straight-forward, about a guy who had love but let something stop him from fully embracing it, the something that happened on the way to heaven. Basically, if you've seen Chasing Amy and know the general jist of Silent Bob's speech, you can understand the song.
The last post I made was of the lyrics for Born in the USA by The Boss, sans the chorus. I guess that the only problem that Springsteen encounters is that he's essentially a pop artist, meaning that his songs generally sound upbeat. Both of his "Born" songs, USA and to Run, are kind of sad songs, but have this poppy music that cover that up. In recent years, he's really stepped away from that, making his songs more vocally and lyrically driven, giving them significantly more weight. Of course, from what I understand, his album sales have taken a hit because of it, but, after all, this isn't 1984, kids aren't going to buy Springsteen, no matter how he sounds.
Song of the Post: First, some background on this SotP. There's this great website called Songfacts, where users can contribute what trivia about songs and what they think it means. This song was inspired by a Bruce Springsteen concert, coincidentally. It's done in 7/4 time, and the singer's ex-wife supposedly attempted suicide while playing this song. While most people debated whether the song deals with religion or not, the one interpretation that I liked most, though don't believe at all, is that the song is about a sniper about to kill someone. Heh.
"Today, I don't need a replacement, / I tell her what the smile on my fact meant."

Monday, August 29, 2005

There has to be a fool to play my part

This is the only website that I have ever looked at and actually stated aloud,

"You've got to be shitting me."

I "stumbled" this website and read about 18 "things" and had to stop. My main problem with this whole concept is that I can't really comprehend why this guy would still be with this woman. They aren't married, nor do they seem to be engaged. They possibly have a child together, but since when has that stood up as a reason for people to stay together in the last ten years.
Of course, this brings me to a group conversation I had with some peers today. Many of the people in my program are married, engaged, or in a long-term relationship. "Many," of course, means "almost everyone but me." Like, there's me and then there's one other guy who, well, let's just say that the dwainker knows this cries-while-begging-his-advisor-to-let-him-in-the-program guy. Don't get me wrong, I get along okay with this guy, but he got rejected from the program fair and square, then had to whine and cry his way in. Of course, given someone else who got into the program fair and square, this guy deserved to be in compared to her.
Anyway, so, it's odd because I'm not really jealous of these people who are attached. It's kind of nice, considering the year of hell that I'm walking into, that I don't really have to worry about being home at a certain time, or waking someone up when my alarm goes off extra early, or having to call someone the instant I get a free moment. Some call it freedom; I'm not sure what I think. I generally prefer being single, I guess, but there are moments, and sometimes people, who make me think otherwise.
Well, at least that gives me hope that I have the sense to get away from a person like Margaret if I ever find someone like her. I mean, the kitchen door? How to pronounce Jonathan? Problems with using a mirror to shave? I know that this crap isn't made up. Nobody has that much free time.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Ha!

Well, in response to the dwainker's post, here's what I am:

Joe Normal
43 % Nerd, 39% Geek, 39% Dork
For The Record:

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.
You scored less than half in all three, earning you the title of: Joe Normal.

http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=9935030990046738815

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Sometimes I question my own behavior

Okay, so, this is going to be a pretty short post, at least in comparison to my others. There's this poem that I want to put on here and I want you to guess what the title of it is and who wrote it. Don't cheat, don't look it up on the internet. Chances are, you've come across this poem before. Just read the words and absorb it. If you can't figure it out, or think you know but want to check, go ahead and look it up.

Born down in a dead man's town,
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground.
You end up like a dog that's been beat too much
Till you spend half your life just covering up.

Got in a little hometown jam,
So they put a rifle in my hand,
Sent me off to a foreign land
To go and kill the yellow man

Come back home to the refinery,
Hiring man says "Son, if it was up to me..."
Went down to see my V.A. man,
He said, "Son, don't you understand"

I had a brother at Khe Sahn fighting off the Viet Cong.
They're still there, he's all gone.
He had a woman he loved in Saigon;
I got a picture of him in her arms now

Down in the shadow of the penitentiary,
Out by the gas fires of the refinery,
I'm ten years burning down the road,
Nowhere to run, ain't got nowhere to go

Monday, August 01, 2005

God Fucking Dammit!

Somehow, someway, blogger.com really messed up. I had this down before, but it wasn't showing up on my dashboard. I'd view the blog and it was there, but it never updated my dashboard. So, I decided that I should republish the blog, just to see if that'd work. Instead, it just lost my post. Stupid fucking site.
Alright, let's see, what did I say...
Shit, the title had some meaning, but I don't remember it. Damn.
Damn, I don't feel like retyping all of that. If you saw it, congrats. There was a lot of anger in that post, which related to the last few hours in my old apartment. I'm not sure I'll ever type it out again. Just ask me about it in person if it doesn't show up here in the next couple of days.
Then, to make my anger flair even fucking more, the university decided to charge me an extra $750 because I dropped one summer class and picked up another. So, instead of saying, "Oh, he switched, that's cool," they said, "Sucker. Make him pay." So now I have to go and try to talk my way out of that one. Like money wasn't already fucking tight.
Damn.
I typed out about the last SotP, but I'm not going to do that again until next time.
I'll go ahead and give you the Song of the Post for next time, which came from the subject line from an e-mail a friend sent me today. It's a question that boils up within me every now and then; whether she knew it or not is beyond me.
Song of the Post: "Can music save your mortal soul?"