Monday, September 26, 2005

With friends like this, who needs sanity?

I forgot the name of our chorus teacher in high school, so I ask my friend Brett who knows everything about the place (even won most school spirited senior year). This is the transcript of that conversation:

KingManton: yo who was our chorus teacher
KingManton: Barbara......
KingManton: what was her last name
KingManton: it's killing me
Bschmuck7: mechagodzilla?
KingManton: fucking no
Bschmuck7: mechastreizilla
KingManton: the one who had a tv fall on her
KingManton: just recently
Bschmuck7: is this someone i know personally or ive heard of b4?
Bschmuck7: i never took chorus
Bschmuck7: hahahahahahahahhahahahhahaha
KingManton: you're fucking worthless russell you really
KingManton: really
KingManton: are
Bschmuck7: dude, i know nothing about chorus in prhs
KingManton: who is the music teacher
Bschmuck7: popolizio
KingManton: you didn't take music
KingManton: you still know
Bschmuck7: dude
Bschmuck7: sorry
Bschmuck7: honestly.. just tell me
KingManton: Farugia
KingManton: I didn't know I was asking you
Bschmuck7: alright, so i remember that name
KingManton: holy shit russell
KingManton: I'm going to stab you
Bschmuck7: but i never had her
Bschmuck7: nor did i ever speak with her b4
Bschmuck7: therefor i have no idea
Bschmuck7: sorry buddy, so shes ur teacher?

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

The Writing Challenge

I think 3 people have now told me that they read my blog. Now, I feel rejuvinated, invigorated...slightly horny. I felt like I needed a challenge, cause I didn't have anything to really write about, so I asked Pam to give me a topic.

She chose Bumper Stickers.

Obviously she has a great mind for the obscure!

Bumper stickers are as useless as shirts with stupid writing on them. "Don't piss me off, I'm running out of places to bury the bodies!" Oh man, that guy, that guy right there is CRAZY don't talk to him! "I'm not weird YOU are!" Of course not, pink-and-black stocking wearing, big clunky black shoes you trip over but looks "goth" and your hair that is unwashed becaues you're "rebeling." The new shirt? "I'm a jackass who you can easily label as an asshole, so just get away for your own good."

but on the back it says "How do you keep an idiot occupied? Read the front!" Ho ho!

Bumper stickers are only good when they offer the oppurtunity to see breasts like the genius Opie and Anthony WOW stickers. Usually they have terrible, clicheed things that don't make anyone laugh. In fact, they just make you want to ram your car into their rear, and when the whole mess is pulled over to the side, they will ask you some questions. "Why sir, did you slam into my car at 90 MPH?" At that point I would punch them in the face because whiplash alone does not let you get away with "You Can't Hug With Nuclear Arms."

As they lay on the ground confused, I'll point at their Dodge Minivan and spit on them. Even then, I will feel like justice has not been served.

People that aren't funny and attempt to be funny are some of the worst things in the world, like Osama bin Laden and cancer and the new Weezer CD. Nothing touches people who think they are HILARIOUS and can clear a room faster than Magic Johnson with a cut gushing blood.

These people get bumper stickers. They think they are hilarious. They think that everyone will enjoy reading their sticker, have a little giggle, and make everyone's day a little better.

There is a divider on the left side of you - please veer your wheel harshly into it. Thanks in advance.

ps having JESUS inside a Jesus fish is a bit redundant, isn't it? Wouldn't it be a Jesus Jesus fish? Silly christians, just wanna toss'em to the lions.


Friday, September 16, 2005


This is as horribly stereotypical as this thing is going to get.

I have a girlfriend as most of you 3 bored people I know are aware of, and her name is Haley. I did not believe that people could be in love when they were teenagers, that there was no way we could really grasp the concept or idea, and that it was just an odd extention off of lust or infatuation.

Well I was pretty wrong.

I just don't lust for her, I don't just want her, I don't just have physical attractions. Sure, the alone times are...fantastic, but christ it's so much more than that. It sucks that in order to describe it I have to go into movie cliches but she really is the other part of me. She does complete me.

Did I have you at hello? Or in this case "this is?"

We had a great summer together, and now we are apart for the better part of 8 months. We talk every day on the phone for a nice chunk of our productive time, which is good, but it's not enough. I can't hold her and tell her something and hear her laugh, see her face react. I can't catch a wiff of her as she walks by me and I can't sit and look her in the eyes (if I ever don't look at her breasts) and have a conversation without saying a word.

It's times like these where I get out Coldplay and be a little girl. I'm going to go to bed, half the man I used to be (which is now, what, 4/183rds?), and hopefully I won't cry....

No fuck you I'm not really going to cry but it was a nice way to end it.

Fo serious.


....ok there was this one time that I said something and she thought it was something different and it was before my Humanities final and I thought about what would happen if I lost her while looking at the sistine chapel and listened to Coldplay (there it is again)'s Shiver for the first time ever and I started to shake and teared up.


...........and when I left for BU freshman year, I cried then, too.

Ok only those times, really.

...........................and at the end of Seabiscuit, god knows why.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Writing stinks

Do you, simple readers, understand how hard it is to write something? Well, no, let me rephrase that.... Do you guys know how hard it is to write something of quality? Just out of the blue, find a topic, make it sound good, and put it on paper for others to read and enjoy?

I know because I tried my damndest to write an 800 word column, one of 3 necessary to get a job as an op-ed columnist at the school paper, the Daily Free Press. Here is the abortion that I came up with. I'm embarassed and ashamed at how terrible this is, considering I'm supposed to be a writer. Ugh. Anyway, here goes...

There are few things worse than the iPod earbuds. I think that if one could make a list of things that are evil in this world, it would and somewhere between colon cancer and Saddam Hussein. One could argue that nuclear annihilation could ruin a day just as well as putting those flotation devices deep into your inner ear, but I would have to disagree because at least you would die instantly.
Well, there is that whole slow death by radiation thing…. Now if that poor fellow was listening to Vertigo while spinning around on his click wheel when the bombs were dropping and the nuclear dawn was approaching, well, I pity that poor soul. If there is a God, He/She/It must have really hated that person.
The real problem with the earbuds is not that they come standard, because anyone can go out and find a pair of headphones or ear pieces that fit comfortably into one’s ear. The real problem is that Apple found out a way to make it cool to wear them around. Any walk down Com Ave and you will see at least some person with those white strings of cruelty hanging from their ears down into their body. Take a closer look at that person, and you might just see a tear coming from behind their 2-feet-tall sunglasses.
Pain is beauty.
Are we just a culture that would do something that looks cool and put our own safety on the line? We all had Tomogatchis, and all they did were eat a bit, move slightly from left to right to show it wasn’t dead, poop, and then die in a week. The emotional strain was so bad, in fact, that my sensible mother wouldn’t let me play with them, for seeing that 8-pixeled baby die would be too much for my li’l emotions.
I could also be a big baby….
Does anyone remember snap bracelets? Did those things ever work as anyone planned? They were also recalled since they would dig deep into a little girl’s skin and not let go, like wearing a plastic cobra.
How many toys are recalled every year for the horrible things that they do to kids? The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle car would shoot small pizzas with what could only be described with laser vision right into your eye socket. Creepy Crawlers should have come with their own Bone-Chilling Burn Unit and Tickle Me Elmo conditioned kids that inappropriate touching was ok, leading to countless repressed memories from Uncle Bill.
Remember kids, if your Uncle says you’re a Sesame Street character, just say no.
Violence certainly sells, much to the chagrin of parent groups. Grand Theft Auto is great because you can kill, well, anyone you so want to, Mortal Kombat had more blood than an early Peter Jackson movie, and let’s not forget all of the ducks we destroyed Duck Hunt (unless you did skeet shooting, you wimp).

Some questions you could ask: does this article has a point? No, not really. What was I trying to get at? Obviously what I was getting at was that writing is hard.

Thesis statement made and repeated. Boo yah.


Monday, September 12, 2005

I've become what I've hated

I wonder how it feels to finally give in? Is this what it was like when Saddam was sitting in that li'l hole in the ground when those marines came busting in?

After years of saying how stupid and trivial blogs are, and how I'd never have one, I finally caved. At least I did it with a nobel idea in mind. This is not for anyone to really read, but for me to keep writing. I've heard that baseball players play baseball, engineers enginner, writers write, and star trek fans get no ass (sorry), so therefore I'm writing this blog to keep my skills as honed as possible. Also, I will refuse to write about star trek, cause, well, I like getting ass.

Once might ask yourself: if you want no one to read it, then why are you linking it in your profile? Good question, and while I don't want anyone to read it, it doesn't neccessarily mean that I'm not an attention whore who would like compliments because they are so insecure that they need them to thrive. Or something.

It's also sort of conceited of me to even think that some people read the above and thought of that question, that anyone is reading at all. From what I've seen of blogs, it seems that no one reads them. Hell, I don't, just out of prinicple of the fact that people want them to be read. I don't care about you Ashley and that guy in class that doesn't like you. I don't care about you Suzy and how you're different and special and that's why you don't care about that and wear what you want when really you want everyone to notice you and read your words. This blog will have none of that.

Although there is a cute boy in my classes...i think we cud b best friendzzzzzz !!!!!1

This will be a place for me to rant and rave to no one at all, about nothing in particular, and to offend only those who I hope don't read this. If you ARE reading this and I'm talking about someone that shares your name, characteristics, and general attitude...I'm a writer and I'm making it up. Call me later !

I'm sick of this whole idea already. God dammit. I'm such a fucking sell out....