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[March 16th, 2004]

It's been a mighty fucking while since I've posted. Sorry. Shit happens. I plan on getting a totally new blog set up within the week, so I can start regular postings again. During the past few months I have been blogging to some extent, so here you go: The Lost Blog.

[Feb. 4, 2004]

Today I decided that you've heard enough of my incessant ranting for a while, so we're going to have fun. Or at least that's my aim. Whatever the outcome, I wish that it may be one of positive effect.

TV Commercials- They say every rose has its thorn. Television has about 4 or 5, most noteably the Commercial Advertisement. It's a necessicary evil in the truest sense of the word, and nobody really likes them. Some companies at least have the curtosy to make them mildly entertaining, whereas others seem to strive to piss me off. Here we chronicle such instances.



This is just the noteable mention of Rachel Klem who got me a Wayne's World pin and made [this]. Or at least she made the fancy part. I scanned it and added the other words and turned it into a background.

If you hadn't seen it on Ethan's Xanga of Perpetual Bitchery, then you should look into the [Captain Capitalism vs. Commrade Communism] comic. It is most def. awesome.

I turned on CNN the other day to find out how things were going in Asia with the bird flu and how the pakistanis were handleing the LEAKING OF NUCLEAR SECRETS, and yet somehow the only evenful news pretained to Coby Bryant, Martha Stewart, and Michael Jackson... Rich, fucked up, americans. Anyway, discouraged by the coverage of stupid stuff, I just took to reading the scroll at the bottom.

I started with it at the very beginning, where it opens up all cool and techy, and this was what it said: Today is February 2, 2004 [Empty Space on the Scroll] 34 Days into the year 2004. And then it closed up and there were commercials. Note to CNN: Your scroll is leaking retardedness all over your airwaves...

Wade Broc said to me the other day he would 'Rather watch paint dry, than sit through another hour of German I.' Wade, you are todays offical cool dude.

For a while there in german class we were winning the War on Seats. He recently brought back out his demographic-ignoring-seating-chart-of-ass and reinforced its cruelty. In retaliation, 25% more of my vocalization is devoted to snyde comments, and overall good-vibe output is at an all time low. Mr. P has turned to the dark side, and it doesn't look like he's coming back without a fight. I may have to end up killing him, like Luke Skywalker killed Darth Vader in Return of the Jedi... Except Mr. P isn't voiced by James Earl Jones, and is not my father, in any sense of the word.

[Speaking of; If there was only room for one 'Return of the' movie, and my vote goes for Jedi, without question. I would take Original Trillogy Star Wars over LOTR 5 out of the 7 days of the week.]

If you use AOL's Instant Messanger client, you'll notice at the top of the buddy list window there are annoying advertisements [all of which go into the 'loser' category of the afforementioned segment]. One common ad is for 'One Tree Hill' where it shows a picture of 2 pretty women and the next frame is this dorky guy with the caption 'Who Will It Be?' Like Dorko gets to choose or whatever. This perplexed me, so I decided I would find out what was up with that stupid show.

In a brief momentary lapse of judgement and sanity, I clicked a banner ad. I know they rely on random people clicking because they're stupid, and in an instant of poor judgement, I became that said statisic. However... the WB apparently hired idiots to code their ad, because after clicking on it, nothing happened. And thank god... You know the fact that I seriously considered watching the show to find out about Dorko, made me feel better about not, watching the stupid One Tree Hill show...

Which brings us to today. I started this entry at about 1:20. Its now approx. 1:52. It took me until 1:15 to get all those damned notecards done for enlglish [I had 10 out of the 60 done starting when I got home tonight], and as I finish up I look outside. It's snowing like... a lot. And the Eastern half of Kansas is still covered with the remainder of the storm.

If we have that much storm left with this intensity of snow, I'm calling a snow day right now. Also because I did no other segment of my homework... but still.

Other Random Facts About Today:

Lizz helped me win the Library... a game at which I typically lose [fscking Dewy Decimal System...]
I fell on my ass this morning, and again this afternoon on account of ice
Lizz also fell on account of ice; except she scared away an entire group of ducks in the process
Mrs. Sullivan is a pinko
Ethan Struby needs to get laid

-Time Warp-

[Feb. 8, 2004]

Since the blog kind of got borken, and Isaac actually has a life (unlike me) it will probably be a while before anyone sees this; in the name of content though, I am typing it up.

Alright, sadie's wasn't near as bad as homecoming. Hell it may have even fallen somewhere within the 'positive' realm of emotions that I make such infrequent use of. I'm not quite sure why either. All signs point to 'Because Tom is a Fucker'... But on with the recap...

So everyone shows up to my house. My tiny house. And they all show up at strange intervals, so I had to open our castle-like door 3 separate times. Then everyone felt it their god-given right to take pictures... holy hocking [new cool word] hell. I hate pictures. If you haven't heard my rant on this, allow me to explain:

A. I am an ugly piece of crap. [I'm told this is debateable; whatever, I don't trust any of you.]

B. I do not enjoy the sight of my own face; I'm quite content with my first person point of view. [Certifiably true. For reasons unbeknowst to me, I hate looking at myself. Thank god I am me; if I were anyone else I'd have to see me all the time.]

C. Why the hell would I want to remember highschool?! [My own personal malice against everything.]

After pictures I loaded my stuff into the car and away we went. To Berliner Bear. The most amazing place I've ever seen. Imagine semi-cheesy german horn-music droning on in the background as you are served random pieces of fried pork. ...I ordered a sandwhich, because I don't dig on swine. I also really like salami. Which might actually be part pig... *walks away*

So yeah. We managed to get through that alright, so off it was to get ice cream... in the middle of winter... while we were already late. I didn't want anything. Ethan and Becca made an amazing discovery about fluid mechanics where applied to the sharing of a milkshake. For that they both get moron-points.

Raaaah. Onward to school. Where I discover other strangely-dressed people I am familiar with. And crappy music. Every time I go to one of these things I always vow to never return on account of the poor quality of tunes. However, this wasn't so bad. We got there late, left early, and there were loads of interesting/fun people there. And after a couple of shots of punch... and being violated by Andy Acton, they played the slow crappy song.

Crappy songs are one thing. Slow crappy songs are an entirely different story. Not only did I get wrangled into that swaying bullshit everyone is so fond of, but someone took a picture as well. Please refer to the afforementioned rant about why pictures suck major, then help me hunt of the pictures and destory them in the manner with most over-kill as humanly possible.

So then we kind of left. And went to Kates. But we got there before Kate did. So we just sat down on her couch, drank her soda, listened to her music, and wore he clotheing. Seriously. But as soon as everyone showed up, Lizz and I had to leave on account of some curfew of sorts. I don't ask questions in the car... I just get geared up for those near-death expiriences I'm so terribly fond of.

So, we get back to Lizz's house and watched Empire Records.

Observation I
A. Rene Zelwiger = Hot
B. Liv Tyler = Hott [Note the dual-T action]

Observation II
A. Mark is crazy
B. Lucas is yoda
C. I am a manifestation of both in one person

Observation III [Refer to the movie, or else you won't get it.]
A. Joe
B. Lucas
C. Joe
D. Lucas...

And after that it was a good time for Donnie Darko; which for some reason I was unable to consentrate on. Even though it is one of the best movies ever, then again, the fact that it was 3 AM probably had something to do with it.

Then sleep.

Then waking up.

Then remembering where I was.

Briefly freaking out.

More sleep.

Waking up again.

This continued for about the remaining 5 hours of the night, being that it is colder than fuck in Lizz's basement, making it hard to sleep. I slept in my clothes because I am that awesome, and finally around 8 I went back upstairs.

There is Mr. Esfeld, reading the paper. I set my un-eaten 3 Musketeers bar on the table, and say to him "It's the breakfast of champions," and then walk away to sit down. I remember walking away thinking myself incredibly clever, but looking back on it now I have come to realize I probably seemed very drugged up.

Ate a muffin, tricked the dog, and home we went. I got my camera and stick back, which was good. So now I'm running on 5 hours of cold-ass-basement-sleep, putting off this murderous amount of algebra II homework, and typing an entry of Blog that isn't even going to be posted. Why?

You tell me cowboy...

[Feb. 17, 2004]

-I fought the law and the law won-

In the name of service hours, myself and Lizz were comissioned to bake cookies for the kids at the LINC place. Easy enough, right? You just follow the stupid recipie on the back of bag of chocolate chips. (You know you're fucked when you can't even spell recipie)

For seemingly normal people, this is no great task. As I have now come to realize, I, nor Lizz, are anything in the realm of normal. Getting the stuff mixed together was enough of a problem: We had to microwave our sorry looking concoction because we mixed in butter... without melting it. So after that painful process, we put little lumps of the stuff on a pan-thing, and go back to watching Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Fourty minutes later I smell cookies.
Charred, smoldering, BURNT cookies.

We try again, this time leaving them in for the exact, designated, length of 30 minutes. They still come out burn. After a brief reasessment of the Chocolate-Chip bag, we find the time was really like... 9-12 minutes or something. The fucking third batch was not bad; The fourth we forgot about and was also burned.

20$ for baking supplies
5$ for rental of Indiana Jones
Fucking up chocolate-chip cookies: Priceless

We managed to produce about 15 edible cookies for the poor kids while using 20$ worth of tax-deductable baking goods. Into the trash with all the burned ones, and then we finished Indiana Jones. Thinking we'd seen the last of our cookie foibles, we went on our happy ways... we were wrong.

2 or 3 days later, we're all sitting down at the lunch table for another rousing episode of lunch. I pull out my usual turkey-sandwhich, bag of chips, cookie, and juice box. That day Lizz also had cookies; CHARRED, SMOLDERED, BURNT COOKIES. Her mom had, out of sheer spite, thrown our cookie-failures into our faces. All 20-or-so of them too...

Later on that week Lizz and I were at Loose park at night. It was then that, for some reason, I recalled a myth I had heard long ago: That Narcs roamed Loose Park during the night-time-hours. Sad to say, we didn't see any. I was disappointed. I did start to freak myself out thought, but thinking about this idea for a great horror movie:

People get into a car at night-time at loose park. They're about to drive away when they realize their car is surrounded by trench-coat-wearing, pale-faced, heroin-needle-weilding Narcs! Ah! The Narcs close in, and start tapping on the glass with their needles. Tap-tap-tap... As the people are distracted by this, the SmartNarc picks the car-door-lock with his heroin needle! Ah! Scary! Coming Summer 2007! Ah!

So the school has finally gotten to cracking down on weblogs because people are using them to be mean. Wait a second... this sounds familiar. People using various types of media to mock one another? No. This hasn't happened with books, radio, movies, and Late-Night-TV. Ever. For fuck's sake. YES MR. HASHMAN, I SAID FUCK. FUCK FUCKING FUCK. *roar of anger and frustration*

Lets get this straight children: You have no right to bitch that Miege/AnyOtherStupidSchool is reading your website. It's public, they're entitled to that right. If you're going to have a website, at least have the self-worth to stand by what you say. I mean every word that I type on this thing. If I didn't, THEN I WOULDN'T HAVE TYPED IT IN THE FIRST PLACE. If you're scared that certain people are reading your site, then take it down. You are underserving of the median because you don't have the guts to stand behind your own thoughts and actions.

Lets get this straight school: You can read my stuff all you want. I don't care. But no one invited you here. I didn't walk into your house, and make you go to this page. You came here on your own accord. If any of this offends you, then go the fuck away. That's the risk you take with the internet; and books; and TV; and the radio...

On a mildly unrelated note: Mr. Hashman, you can blog me- I mean blow me.

Since the blog went down initially, I've been typing everything in a little notepad document, and I've come to the conclusion that notepad is a lot nicer than word. It's much simpler, and it doesn't take the liberty of formatting "Hogan" to "hoggin'"; something I appreciate greatly. It also loads faster and makes me feel hardcore.

I'm sure you'll all recal the War on Seats. Bad news kids... we lost. One day a while back Mr. P. got mildly pissed, and moved us all back for no reason. He also wrote all of the offending party's names on the board... [Yeah... that'll get me. Seeing my name on the dry-erase board really gets me to feel like following directions.] To be honest I was surprised he had the balls to do it.

Even thought what he did pisses me off, I'm kinda proud of him. Mr. P. has always been kind of a pushover, so I'm glad he's finally able to stand up for something he wants... however stupid and lame it may be. Looking on the bright side [something I do more frequently now, because EVERYTHING has a knack for sucking], I'm now by the window. Windows provide a substancial amount more of entertainment then Mr. P does... so I guess it all evens out in the end.

In other news... I'm totally going to hell. I'm sure most of you have figured this out by now anyway, but now this one Girl I Used to Associate With has confirmed it! Please bear witness to this awesome revelation of the mind:

chick: maybe, but i think your behavior was unforgivable
Daemon1330: That's ironic, coming from a person whose religion's backbone is unconditional love.
chick: yeah, too bad i'm not as holy as i should be.
Daemon1330: Doesn't seem like you're trying that hard.
chick: but God'll forgive me
chick: you? i'm not so sure
Daemon1330: I don't care what god thinks of me.
Daemon1330: I am what I am.
chick: and you're as good as in hell.

Well SHIT. Now I'm really in trouble. Better break out the bibles kids, and start praying for my poor, sickly, hell-bound soul. Psh. And maybe later monkeys will fly out of my butt. I'd go off on my standard theological rant, but I doubt anyone cares.

[Feb. 29, 2004]

It's totally leap day today. Leap day is the most amazing thing ever. In case you did not know: The time it takes the earth to circle the sun is actually 365.25 days. After 4 years, that .25 (1/4 for the mathematically challenged) adds up to 1. To commemorate this accumulation of spare time, we have Leap Day! Houray for calendars being right again! For some other complicated mathematical reason beyond my understanding leap years ending in 00 [1900, 1800, etc.] are not bestowed with a Leap Day; unless they are divisible by 400 [hence why 2000 WAS a leap year].

Whoever the hell thinks this stuff up must be shot on sheer principal; anything that arbitrary is just stupid.

Ever had one of those math problems where it's like:
'Joey has 456,089 dollars in his pocket in nickels and dimes.
How many nickels and dimes does Joey have total?'

I hate those stupid problems. A. They're hard to do B. Who the fuck cares? I mean really, a lot of math seems useless, and it is, but at least most concepts server a single, however dorky, purpose. Joey's pocket full of coins? No purpose at all. While we're at it, lets use MORE useless information to predict Joey's birthday and whether or not he's still a virgin! Standardized tests are invited to join Mr. Hashman in blowing me. [It the most figurative sense for christ's sake...]

For some reason my parents rented 'Out of Time', the latest Denzel Washington flick. Let's start with the fact that I really like Denzel, I just hate his movies. He plays the same character in practically every movie, blah. I'm not really going to get into it, but Out of Time was actually good. I wouldn't buy it, but it's defiantly worth a rent; if for nothing else to see Denzel climb out a bathroom window and then fall off a roof.

It's spring time... sort of. And you know what that means... Yes, that's right. Chicks & Rabbits returneth. If you've read the archives, which is doubtable, then you'd know I have an accute addition to these things [And yes, Ethan-Fucko-Struby, that was probably an improper use of the word 'Accute', but it sounded cool so just go with it]. Anyway, I'd avoided them in the cabinet for about a week; hoping that perhaps this was the year I could break free from their addictive tendancies and live a free, clean, chick/rabit-less life. Get to know my kids and stuff, right?

Wrong again. My mom shows up in the van on thursday with a bag of them. Sean had never had them. I told him not to... but it was already to late. We somehow [the 3 of us] managed to down about half the bag in the 7 minute drive from Miege to Vis. It's going to be a long spring, and when they stop making them during the summer/fall/winter... it's going to be even worse as my family, and Sean now, collectively go into withdrawl...

The other day [and by 'the other day' I mean 'I can't remember when this happened] we were in forensics class talking about congress stuff. Mrs. Reynolds starts talking about how she saw this drug store that gets drugs from Canadia and how we should ask them how they get around the fact that importing drugs from Canada is mildly illigal. She goes on describing the place, and tells us it's name is 'Canada Drug'. Suddenly I spin around and say [quite loudly] "You mean the one by the Asian strip market?!"

-Crickets-

I've actually seen this place. It's by this strip of random asian shops where I went with Rachel and Hope one time. After my little outburst though, my forensics class now things I go around hitting up Asian Strip/Drug joints... which is truer then they think.

[Mar. 03, 2004]

Some randomly entertaining images: [Which I'll post soon, sorry, it's late]

[Juice Pouch]

Lizz fasted on Ash Wednesday like all the other good catholic children [I ate meat]. The following thursday, her mom put this in her lunch...

[Emo]

Sean was reading the Best Buy adds a few weekends ago. Apparently Best Buy has discovered EMO, and can define it with Webster-Esque-Accuracy...

The Other Day in religion class we had to do Gospel Skits. By some strange occurance, I appeared in 3 out of the 6 productions... in 2 of which I played the role of Christ. In my own groups skit [the group I was assigned to be with] we weren't doing so well. Our gimmick was that Mel Gibson had covered the last 12 hours of Jesus' life; we were taking care of the other 290,068 of them. Basically it was set up like a trailer, with us re-enacting the most exciting exorcisms, death-raisings, etc. Without any sort of rehersal we sped through the first 4 of our gospel stories, falling far short of the 5 minute minnimum time limit. I had Lazarus and the cleansing of the temple to fill TWO MINUTES.

Lazarus bought me about 20 seconds. So I drew the temple-cleansing out to around a minute... and then ranted about how bad I [Jesus] had it for another 20... and then just to spite Mr. Hashman/Sean by making the time limit, I railed off thanks to my numerous sponsors for 20 seconds.

Becca Bryon was in tears, many others were getting there.
For 5 minutes of golden improve, I was a golden god.
And not just because I was playing Jeus.
That was my ego trip for the day.

I AM FUNNY.

[Mar. 11, 2004]

So today my mother decided I needed new pants. For me, pants means jeans. And that means I had to go to the Gap. Don't get me wrong, I'm actually like a fucking poster-boy for the Gap. Half of my clothing comes from there. Mind you this isn't even my doing. I just wear the clothing; my family buys it at random intervals.

But today was different. I have a single pair of pants I love more than... well more than TV. [That much]. I figure I just go and get another pair, case closed. 2 sets of pants-goodness. Not today, or ever. Apparently they don't make my favorite pair of pants anymore. The same cut doesn't have the correct wash... some stupid clothing terminology like that.

So the man sends us away to 'Lucky Brand Jeans' and tells us they may have what we are searching for. A little flag goes up in the back of my head and screams 'Uh-Oh'. We get there, and past all the trendy random shit, they actually have some nice pants. In the dressing room though, I made a horrible discovery: The Button Up Fly. Whoever invented this should be kicked in the face; twice.

1. The concept is that its easy to get open and a bitch and a half to close. Meaning you don't close it. [They're implying that I have sex in these jeans!!]

2. For those of us not having sex in our jeans, buttoning these things up is like a fucking Rubik's Cube; or at least of the same magnitude of frustration.

Anyway, as I'm trying to master this new art of complexity, my mother comes up and knocks on the door.

-knock- *whisper*Tom!*whisper*
*falls over* What?!
Tom... put your jeans back on and lets go.
What is it?
Those pants you're trying on are 120$
SHIT! [I really did yell that, quite loud.]

So we motored out of that place fast, and settled on a similar pair of jeans back at the Gap. The nice man there was like someone out of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. I laughed and I really enjoy my new pants. As does the rest of the world, because for every new pair of jeans I get, that's a gaurenteed month nobody has to see my lower torso. *cheers*

That same night we went and bought CDs at Best Buy. I really hate giant conglomo places, but Best Buy redeems itself via massive collections of Bowie and the Beatles. That particular evening, I purchased Please Please Me [Beatles] and Greatest Hits I & II [Queen].

As a result of the Queen purchase, my mom, my sister, and myself rocked out Wayne's-World style to Bohemian Rhapsody on the way home. It was a sight to see. [And shit can my sister head-bang...]

[Mar. 16, 2004]

-Vacation-

On the way out of Kansas City, I see a hell of a lot of billboards. Close to the city, they're all for Fireworks. 6 for 1 for all that. Whatever. When you get further out though, almost every single one is for XXX Video & Club, Exit 84A. I counted... like 7 separate... establishments. Which begs the conjecture that rural Missouri is incredibly horny.

Also, lots of tobacco stores. Cigs & Beer is the recuring theme for their kind. And as for Hotels, who knew that HBO, ESPN, and a Hot Tub were the life-fulfilling items that were missing from my dreary city life.

We passed a sign outside of St. Louis that said 'Last Rest Stop in Missouri'. A few miles into Arkansas my sister spots a rest stop and proclaims:

"The First Rest Stop in Arkansas! This is the apex of our trip!"

My mom tells her "Now Erin, don't say that. We've got a lot more to do."

I turn to my sister and say "She's right Erin, this isn't the most exciting part of the trip... but it is the highlight of the state of Arkansas."

-Burn-
[Freaking hate the south. For no real reason, other than its the South.]

Here's another family-fun scenario:
'Rents: Hey kids, we've made it to Arkansas!
Erin: Are Kansas!
Tom: Ar-Crap!

There was also this random girl in some trashy VW Beatles that had this outrageous amount of shit crammed into her car. I saw her as we got out onto I-70 and refered to her thenafter as Junko-Girl. She sped past us and then went off over the horizon. 3 Hours later, just outside of St. Louis, we totally pass her, as I scream triumphantly:

"We win, Junko-Girl!"

In St. Louis there's this place called Union Station. They redid it kind of like the one here in KC, but also kinda not. They put this big courtyard thing under this giant psuedo-covering that used to be for trains. So we're walking around there at night, and I'm totally freaking out because there's sort of a roof above us, but the rain is coming through it, so for the remainder of the night I kept asking, very loudly at the sky/covering:

"Are we inside, or are we outside??!?!?! Make up your god damn mind!"

We also went to the Bud plant there, and went to Graceland and walked around Elvis's house. This conclude the vacation segment, and the Lost Blog Special.

It's been a while, hasn't it cowboys?





-News-

[March 9th, 2004]

Things are slowly crawling along. We've chosen to host with MidPhase, and if the 'rents are going to cooperate in the credit card department, that should be up and running soon.

I've also found a tutorial for seting up Greymatter, and it seems easy enough, so that's all golden. The one final hurdle is finding a way to get the archives from the current Brak Blog it its up-and-coming bretheren. Wish me luck on that one...

Expect blog back up mid-spring-break.

[The Backstory of this Mess]

Alright, this is the deal:

Isaac's site was actually down because we've all been using graymatter, which has some hole in it that hackers can exploit, bleh, whatever.

I've seen this as an opportunity to do a number of things:
  1. Rid Isaac of my infernal self. I have knack of making a lot more work for the poor kid...
  2. Going off on a web-venture of my own
  3. Using this said web-venture for blogging purposes of my own, and perhaps...
  4. Allowing others an add-free space on the web as well
Or at least that's the idea. Sean and I are looking at hosting options and mulling over domain-name ideas. Things are kinda still in the prelim phase, but its a start.

On a second note: I haven't been slacking off in the past month. There is a mighty-fuckload of bloggage sitting in a text file on my desktop just waiting to be enjoyed, so please be patient while I sort out this mess.

Again, any new updates will be posted here first. Anything specificly noteworthy will be shouted by me as I run through the streets in an orgasm of glee.