CD: Weezer, "Weezer" [2001]

If I don't turn off the television, I end up watching the war for eight hours, and that just can't be healthy. The satellite dish gives me about eight differnet channels to watch...I got ABC, NBC, CBS, ITV, BBC, CBC, NWI, CNBC, CNN, CNNFN, MSNBC, KMFDM, LMNOP, and, of course, NWA. All I know is that you can get those nasty pictures on Al-Jazeera's website even without reading Arabic, that the "War Desk" on CNNFN has my laptop on it, and that first night where they were blowing stuff up like crazy? THAT was fun, admit it! I do wonder how much less news I'd have to watch if the US and Iraq could stop using all that rhetoric about how victory is inevitable, and our soldiers are brave and courageous, bork bork bork. Maybe from eight hours to seven.

CD: Moby, "Play"

I recently bought a cell phone. That means you have to write to all of your friends and give them your new number, which they will easily forget the first couple of times they need to call you. That's not a problem. The most disappointing thing in my situation, however--and this was pointed out to me by one of the friends I wrote to--was that my E-mail was sent out to nine people. Nine. Sad, huh? I pay $35 dollars a month so I can talk to nine people. Four of them live in my house. Or is it more depressing when one of them writes back and makes fun of you for only writing to nine people? Or that he just got a cell phone, too, and will probably only call three or four people with it? Or that it's 11:20 on a Monday morning and I still haven't gotten out of bed? Alas.

CD: Pavement, "Slanted And Enchanted" (deluxe)

It is 12:10 AM. What a great day this March 23rd has been! Definitely in the top 1000 of good days. What did I do today? Oh, gee...let me think. Well, I was reading this newspaper, as I am wont to do sometimes, and it was really interesting! Yeah! But then I thought to myself, "Hey, I wonder if I have any E-mail to check." So about halfway through the day, at about 12:05 AM, I checked my E-mail! I didn't have any! Wow! I wonder if I'll ever get any more. I guess only time will tell, huh? Already a mystery. Then I decided that since it was a new day, I would add to my weblog. I was listening to my Pavement album the night before, so I started of my new post with the title of the album I had played. Coincidence? No, silly! Then I started writing my weblog. It was about 12:10 in the morning by then. Well, what a day! I better get some rest. Toodles for now!

CD: Rage Against The Machine, "Rage Against The Machine"

Spring Break has been a wash. Compared to previous Spring Breaks, where I was out of town and on vacation, I have done some homework. So this is a 100% increase. Yet, thirty minutes isn't exactly going to help me out like I'd hoped. On one hand, I did go bowling last night. It was much more enjoyable than, say, a study of 17th century Dutch economics. I really don't know how to fully articulate what I'm saying, because I was out all night and didn't get any sleep, but it's too bad I didn't get any papers done. I'll just have to blame the war or something. That darned Saddam! Why couldn't he be like that nice Timothy McVeigh boy and be easier to catch?! Hmm, I probably shouldn't have said that...like that. Wait, what did I just say? I better get some sleep...it's a good reason for not starting more homework, too...

CD: various, "Negros Blues And Hollers"

Most every night, my father sits on the couch once he gets home and doesn't get up. He eventually falls asleep on the couch, snoring and keeping me awake. Then I have to close my bedroom door and since the heater is in my room, the building goes cold while my room gets to be about 90 degrees, so I have to keep a window cracked open in the middle of winter. So last night I put my foot down. Well, my butt. I got home first, grabbed my laptop, the remote and a book. I laid on that couch for several hours before he got home. He sat on one end of the couch and started nodding off, except for the couple of times he would turn his head, slowly open his eyes and see if I was still there. You could see the disappointment in him. A couple of times he would mumble something about "Well I guess I should go to bed soon..." right before he would glance at me. At about 1:30 he finally capitulated and went to his bedroom for good. I had won the night. I told my sister what I did and we celebrated for several seconds. Then I told her I was tired out too from all my squatting and I went to bed. The end.

Edited by: TomServo0 at: 3/20/03 2:45:36 am

CD: Fiona Apple, "When The Pawn..."

This war thing is taking forever. Just think, if they do reenactments of it in 2203, it will involve sitting in the desert for 3 months, doing nothing. It'll be pretty boring, that's for sure. And then one of the troop reenactors will pull out a laptop computer and press a button, something will blow up, and the battle will be over. Not that I want anyone to die in this war, or that I want this war at all, but come on already. it really has been twelve years since this thing has started. I almost like Bush for being impatient. Saddam Hussein is like that one kid in elementary school that was so annoying that you wanted to pop him one but he never got caught doing anything wrong. He would make fun of you and then hide behind a tree in the playground or stand next to the teacher so you couldn't rough him up. Still, if you ignored him he would go away after a while...

Edited by: TomServo0 at: 3/19/03 2:34:36 pm

CD: Talib Kweli, "Quality"

My theory is has been tried and tested, and still true: If there is no specific reason to get together, as my friends and I did the other night, we will somehow end up at Denny's. That doesn't mean we specifically want to go to Denny's. What used to be a fun outing has turned into a tradition and then an out and out regrettable situation. Last night I decided that since I was driving, we were just going to drive down one road until someone decided what we were going to do next. We got halfway to driving off of the Niagara Falls when I had to give up and turn around. It's a shame when your posse physically GOES to several places says "NO! We must go do Denny's." But you know what? They have darn good sandwiches and pies and I barely care anymore. Moons Over My Hammy for everyone! I had a great time. Free refills!

CD: James Brown, "Say It Live And Loud: Live In Dallas 08.26.68"

Someone mentioned that it's going to look really bad when the United States declares war on Iraq and the world press comes to get our reaction, and everyone is drunk and dancing in the streets with party hats and floats because it's St. Patrick's Day. They're going to have a field day with us. I never really liked this holiday because I don't drink and don't like drunks, but since green is my favorite color I guess it's passable as a celebration. Interesting, though, that we're starting a war to combat terrorism (or whatever they call it) around a day celebrating the Irish, who would be World Terrorist Enemy #1 if it weren't for that whole Arab-Israeli thing. How many people have died from Irish terrorist acts? Nomatter. All we know over here in the states was that there was some sort of famine and what do you know, everyone in the Fire Department has a name that starts with "O'." Also, Lucky Charms is the best kids' cereal ever.

CD: Taleb Kwali, "Quality"

Yesterday I went to downtown Buffalo, which was interesting because it was actually nice out for once and people were taking walks, looking around at the city like they just came out of their bomb shelters. It was Saturday, so no one had much of a reason to be there. We were just surprised the sun was shining and stuff wasn't falling from the sky. On the windows of the abandonned Burger King was a sign that said "Fat, Ugly Italian Male looking for Nice Girl with a Sense of Humor, 878-xxxx." That was kind of funny. The subway was half-filled with people that didn't want to look at each other. I was the most handsome person there. I rode the subway down to its last stop at South Campus and the floor was really slippery, probably from the moisture with the weather and everything melting. Dangerous.

CD: White Stripes, "De Stijl"

Some months ago I made what could be called the Mother Of All Mix Albums, or MOAMA, for some foreign guys at work. Tonight I pulled it out and copied to my laptop and dude, this is fun! Now I technically have my own portable MP3 player! Whee! And it's already loaded with 200 of my favorite songs. The best part is that I forgot what songs I put on the thing so I get a pleasant surprise every three minutes or so. Now I recall the three days it took for me to put the MOAMA together; how I fussed over song selection, how I tried to be eclectic (no band appears more than once) while still fitting everything in. Finally my hard work, though relatively still useless, is paying off. AND, as an added bonus, WinAmp is automatically fading in between tracks. Fantastic.

CD: Pearl Jam, "Riot Act"

The best part about my winter trip to Europe may not be the actual vacation but the ability to refer to it in conversation later. Watching the news today they showed the Chancellor of Germany giving a speech to the legislature, and DUDE I was IN THAT BUILDING! Cool! Somewhere I learned that Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen's favorite tourist attraction in Rome is the Spanish Steps, and I was ON those steps! Whenever they talk about the Eiffel Tower, the EU headquarters in Belgium, the Vatican's plea for peace in the Middle East...I was there, making me an EXPERT compared to all y'all who are only TALKING about the stuff! So they want to rename French Fries "Freedom Fries" because they think the French are snooty, self-centered anti-Americans? Well guess what? I was actually IN FRANCE and they ARE snooty, self-centered anti-Americans. How about those pommes, Jacques?

CD: "Langley Schools Music Project"

Spring Break. Wooooooooo. There are no girls going wild here in farm country, nor do I see Fat Joe getting ready to perform. Even the upcoming St. Patrick's Day holiday fails to pique the interest of our Germanic neighbors. What to do then? Well, it seems that my academic adversaries, or "professors," have all designed that I must write them a 15-20 page paper. So instead of warm beaches and cold water (The ocean's always cold no matter where you are, isn't that such a disappointment?) I will get to visit cold libraries and search for old books. Maybe I'll even stop procrastinating long enough to write something down. My Beach House will consist of a bunch of bundled-up, grandfatherly dudes trying to look up totally rad geneology records! Party on!

CD: Green Day, "Warning"

I found this during my research and I though it was interesting. Some things never change . . . .

from "Republican Advocate" by D. C. Miller. Batavia, NY Fri. Evening 18 August 1826 VOL. 15, NO. 758
Pg. 3 col.1

<<“He who is not for us is against us.”—This is an old and trite saying—and whatever may be the hazard in any laudable untertaking, rendered necessary by the nature and state of things, the whimperings of nerveless friendship, doling out its fears of cousequences, is lost upon him whose purposes are as just as unchangeable; and could such friends duly estimate things, whey would consider their advice, as it really is—worthless. Armed with justice, none but cowards fear consequences. What are scoffs, threats and persecution to him who is bent upon purposes good? Simply stimulants to action, calling forth powers that put at defiance the demons of mischief.”<<

CD: Wesley Willis, "Daren Hacker"

Most of this was from an E-mail I just sent to Ed:

Guess who Joe and I saw last night? That's right, the one and only WESLEY WILLIS. The jam was a knockout! The singer rocked like a Magikiss! The show was supposed to be at Mohawk Place but because of all that Great White stuff the fire marshall had them move it to the Continental. It was the best show I've seen him do by far. He was on a Harmony Joy Ride for sure! He did the hits of course--"Rock and Roll McDonald's," "Cut the Mullet,"--but he unveiled some other stuff like "Michael Jackson," which may be his best song yet (just look up the lyrics), "Osama bin Laden," and the encore, "My Demon is the Devil's Son." They even sounded like different songs this time! He's gotten a lot better. Now he pauses right after he says "Rock Over London, Rock On [Buffalo New York]" so people can cheer before he does his slogan and the ends fade out. It was a success! There were about 100 people at the show! Suddenly, it was over. Just plain awesome.

I would also like to add that the toilets at the Continental are human rights catastrophies. I think there should also be a Toilet Marshall that goes around to bars and clubs to see if they're deadly or not. They're just accidents waiting to have already happened.

CD: Jimmy Eat World, "Bleed American"

I remember a long time ago (months!) I wrote a post about how Saddam Hussein released almost all the prisoners in his jails in Iraq. And I sarcastically commented that it must be this Great Coincidence that American troops were coming over to fight his country, and he needed troops for his army--hey, here are some, and they're big fans of yours, Hussein! Well now I'm wondering if they're actually in the Iraqi guard. If they are or they aren't, aren't they bored? Come to think of it, what are the Iraqi people doing right now? It's not like they can make any big plans..."Yo Abdul, you wanna help me move?" "Sure, Mohammed, but you sure you want to right now, what with the war and all?" "Oh yeah, I forgot. They might blow our houses up. Maybe later then?" Or maybe, "Yo Abdullina, would you like to come to my bachelorette party?" "Sure, Mohammedina, but you sure you want to get married right now, what with the war and all?" "Oh yeah, I forgot. They might kill my husband in a firefight and my future children could die of starvation. Maybe later then?" All I know for sure is that if I were living there right now, I'd be in the basement trying to get through Ulysseys.

CD: Oasis, "Be Here Now"

Uuuuugh. I knew it wouldn't work. So I got to the library at about 4 yesterday, vowing not to leave until I finished my five-page paper, which is due tonight. after about six hours, I had competed ONE PAGE. That's right, somehow I was able to sit in one place and only write ONE PAGE of a book review. How horrible is that? Right now I'm wasting my time on this thing (which is going much faster, by the way) but I think I've figured it out: years of all-nighters and last-minute writing make me unable to function as a regular student unless there is a pressing deadline upon me. I bet that by the end of the afternoon this paper will be done quickly simply because it has to be. The words will magically appear on the page--almost like its their destiny--but for now they will not come. No matter, I must sign off and forge ahead. But first...breakfast...

CD: Natalie Imbruglia, "White Lillies Island"

Today I fully intend to spend all day at the library and I just know it will never work. It never does. I tell myself I will work all day long but I end up goofing off for a couple of hours and then going back home. This time I have a five-page paper to write and I refuse to leave until I do...if I do leave, it's thirty miles to home so I have an extra incentive to stay. Nevertheless, I was supposed to be there a couple of hours ago and I just got out of bed. Now I'm writing this stupid weblog which means I will waste even more time before I even eat breakfast. When I first started writing these log things it was to practice answering those "About Me" essays on job applications, but now I see it's my new excuse to procrastinate. Once again I have ruined my academic career.

CD: Natalie Imbruglia, "Left Of The Middle"

I just saw the High School Play version of the movie Footloose, and I must say I expected looser feet. It was very unprofessional. But for some reason all I could think about during the play was the inevitable war in Iraq. So the hero of the story--the guy that just wanted to dance, dance, dance!--and his friends became the anti-war protesters, and the evil minister became George Bush, and the minister kept pushing for war because of some accident with his father in the last war--probably the assassination attempt--and he was all cantankerous and wouldn't listen to anybody, and then the hero got up in front of everybody and said "blessed are the peacemakers" but all the old people voted for war anyway...and George Bush really couldn't sing but he still got some applause because he seemed like a nice kid that tried really hard. I still don't know what to name my daydream: Trooploose? Obtoose? Oh well.

CD: Missy Elliot, "Under Construction"

Today, a first: I taught an elementary school class. Six, actually. Through this I found out something amazing: children are transfixed upon a television. It doesn't even have to be showing anything. A blank, blue screen will suffice; the children will love it. Today I played videos for all six of these classes. From Kindergarden through grade six, the kids just sat there quietly. It was amazing. Best classes I've ever had. I noticed that there are four levels of television understanding with kids:

Grade 5+6: Cool, it's video time. We don't have to do anything.
Grade 4+3: A movie! This is funny stuff!
Grade 2+1: Wow, a dancing elephant!
Kindergarden: [mouths agape. no comprehension until the songs come in]

CD: John Coltrane, "The Very Best Of John Coltrane"

I forgot how to read. After all these years, I forgot how to sound out words, read phonetically, stay on one line at a time. In college I developed the ability to read two or three lines at a time to better skim the material so I could spend my time more wisely not doing the dishes for my dorm. Reading the newspaper too often has made me skip whole paragraphs in a quick search for important quotes and concise summaries. So now, whenever I want to read a real book--or even a long New Yorker article--it's darn near impossible. I lose my place, I turn the page halfway through reading the one before it, and sometimes stop and say to myself "I don't know what I just read. I didn't remember a single word." It's been difficult, but with a few hours of practice every night I've tried to regain my reading abilities. Sure, every page of my graduate textbooks are a challenge, but so was inventing the light bulb and we're glad someone did that! So to conclude, reading is worth it. But you don't have to take MY word for it....

CD: Weezer, "Maladroit"

In Buffalo, the transition from winter to spring has been more schizophrenic than usual. Usually there's no spring anyway, but this year we just might give it a try. So this past week or two we have experienced temperatures of zero or below, then had temperatures in the 40s, then back to zero again. Today it was up and started raining, but now it is down and snowing again. As in city government, the weather can't make up its mind, either. Perhaps hail tonight? Maybe more snazzy snow. Nobody knows; we can't predict a thing. And in this town it doesn't really matter either way, because nobody will do anything differently with their day until a yard of the stuff hits the ground; one reason (and only one?) why living here is better than in Florida.

CD: Lenny Kravitz, "Greatest Hits"

Ooh, those crazy French. They remind me of this kid named Keith I used to go to school with that everyone wanted to beat up on the playground. He wasn't really evil or anything, just a dork. Even if he said things you agreed with, you still wanted to beat him up. So that's France to me. Sure, I'm not too fond about this upcoming war either, and I would probably vote against it if I were France, too. But it's the delivery, I guess. That, and every time someone threatened to beat up Keith--which happened often, by the way--he would run away like a little girl. And that is 100% France. I wonder what Keith is up to right now...probably pretending not to know English, and selling bottles of Coca-Cola for $4.50 a pop, and having national holidays whenever I happen to visit so I'll never get to see the Mona Lisa. Jerks.

CD: Beastie Boys, "Hello Nasty"

I had the chance to answer a few questions about Americans' view of a war in Iraq for a student paper in Brazil, so I thought I'd post my answers here as well:


Do you think that it is really important to USA win the war?

If the USA actually does start a war, yes. By "winning" we mean the USA would have to take Saddam Hussein out of power permanently. Many Americans believe we should have taken Hussein in the last war, when we had the chance. Personally, I do not think this is a war we have to fight. If we do not fight a war we will probably be no worse because of it. The only problem is that our country has made threats to Iraq for so long, if we do not back our words with our weapons we will look foolish to the world. President Bush put us in a bad position: if we are for him, we look like a bully, but if we stop the war from happening, we may make America look even worse.

"Veja", the most important magazine in Brazil (like Newsweek) is showing in the front page: "Bush makes the world furious". How do you fell about that?

I am against the war myself, so I can understand if the world is "furious." "Worried" might be a good word, too, because violence may spread in the Middle East. Since the attacks on September 11, 2001, however, America feels different from other countries. There is now the belief that much of the world hates us anyway, even if there were no war, because we are a rich, powerful nation. If you ask people that are for a war, they will say that the world simply does not understand that we have special responsibilities as a superpower nation, and that by taking out Hussein (even without UN support) we will be helping the rest of the world and not hurting it. Americans have all seen the protests from around the world on television, and some of the biggest protests were right here in places like Washington, D.C. and New York City. Americans have been very accepting of anti-war activists, though some of our leaders do not say it. The only backlash I have seen against the "furious" parts of the world has been towards France. Many Americans think France owes us for saving them from Hitler, and are only trying to gain politically from not agreeing with us. We also find it ironic that some of the nations that accuse us of starting a war for oil (France, Germany, and Russia) also have some of the most money invested in oil contracts with Iraq.

Are you nervous about the consequences that this war can bring to your economy? What do you think about the Iraq population? Are you afraid of terrorist attacks after the war?

The war has already hurt our economy. Petroleum prices are rising sharply now, and though oil companies blame the situations in Iraq and Venezuela for the cost, we believe they are just trying to make greater profits. The stock market is down, and consumer confidence is at a ten-year low. The war will make the economy worse still. As for the Iraqi population, Americans genuinely believe that Saddam Hussein is evil and is a greater threat to Iraqis than America could ever be. We have heard horror stories of torture and mass killings by Hussein for years now. Some of us think that the UN sanctions against Iraq killed many thousands of people, too. It seems that the only way for the sanctions to be lifted is to get rid of Saddam Hussein. Though I do not think war is necessary right now, it seems the only way anyone will ever remove him and restore Iraq will be by force.

I do not know what Brazilians learn about American society, but it seems that Americans are split between two ideas about terrorism. One feeling is that we should be very afraid for future terrorist attacks, should always be prepared, and should be willing to send the military around the world to prevent terrorism from striking again. The government has even created a color-coded Terror Alert System. Starting at this year's hajj in Mecca, the alert was at High Alert until yesterday. If you watched the news on television, there was a symbol on the screen saying "TERROR ALERT ORANGE: HIGH."

The second group of people is a bit more pessimistic. They think terrorism will happen again, yes, but what can we really do? We will be as prepared as we can be no matter what occurs. That group of people think the government is using terrorism to scare people into believing that policies like a war in Iraq are necessary, even when it was Osama bin Laden, not Saddam Hussein, that attacked the USA. They also think that President Bush is not giving the public evidence that there is any reason to be afraid, but by starting a war in Iraq, they will only make more people hate the USA and create more future terrorists. I am in this second group. The government recently recommended that citizens buy duct tape, plastic bags, bottled water, and other items in case a terrorist strikes. Only a few people in the first group thought the items would be useful. In the 1950s, the government said we could protect ourselves from nuclear radiation by hiding under a table. It will take much more than that to convince Americans--and the rest of the world--that we are using our common sense in 2003.

CD: Missy Elliot, “Under Construction”

Ooh, those sneaky church people. So the church started looking for new ushers, and my mother got it into her head that she knew I wanted to be one, if that makes any sense. After the sermon I was walking down the hall when one guy goes “Hey, your mother was looking for you; she’s just down the hall over there.” I went in the direction he pointed, and as I got there another guy goes, “You came! Great!” Huh? “The usher meeting is right in here; it will only take a few minutes.” I’ve been captured! And of course when I got in the room a third guy asked me if my mother “finally persuaded me to join.” All I could do was reply, “I really don’t know what I’m doing!” We all had a good laugh.


Edited by: TomServo0 at: 3/4/03 1:18:44 pm

CD: Velvet Underground & Nico, “The Velvet Underground & Nico”

In my freshman year of college I had a roommate named Micah who, besides dancing with himself and playing classical guitar covers of Dave Matthews songs, pretended his computers were his girlfriends and even named them. I laughed at him then. Alas, I was so very wrong to do so. With my new laptop I have given in. Her name is Ashley. Why, you may ask, is she—um, it—named Ashley? Could it be the black, ashen color of the laptop? Could it stand for “A Superbly Helpful Laptop for Educating Yourself”? Or could it be because actress Ashley Judd is just plain amazing? All I know is that it’s hard getting by without her. Well, I’ve got the other computer, but let’s keep that on the D.L.


Edited by: TomServo0 at: 3/2/03 2:36:54 pm

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CD: Robert Plant & Jimmy Page, "No Quarter"

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Edited by: TomServo0 at: 3/2/03 2:35:45 pm

CD: George Harrison, "All Things Must Pass"

OK, some time ago I named all the presidents I could remember in a post. I missed three. Now it's time to name all the states. This should be easier...

Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, North and South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, Minnesota, North and South Dakota, Montana, Idaho, Washington, Oregon, California, Colorado, Wyoming, Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, Nebraska, Wisconsin, Alaska, Hawaii, Massachusetts, Iowa, Texas, and one more! Arkansas! Ha HA!

CD: Bob Dylan, "Blonde on Blonde"

"I went to kennel and I got to work with the cats, finally! I have been in the dog room for the past 3 times. So anyway, all of the cats were good, and very cute. I didn't enjoy being totally covered inside (I swallowed and breathed some in...haha) and out by cat hair though. We did TPR's on all of them just like we do for the dogs. We also had to pill them...1/2 a tab of 250mg Lidocane...they didn't like that too much, but they were good anyway. Then all of us did the usual stuff, clean out their cages, sweep and mop the cat room, and feed them.

"So after I left kennel I went to the cafeteria. I decided to get a coffee, grapefruit and a chocolate chip muffin (b/c I am PMSing). When I went and sat down and went to eat the muffin, I was amazed that it was still warm! And it was fresh! The chocolate chips were all melty...my favorite! I was sssssoooooo impressed, I called my Mom on her cell phone to tell her about it...she was like...WOW! Haha! So yeah this was one part of my good day...the best part by far! Then when I went to Microbiology, I actually didn't fall asleep like I normally do! It was amazing! Then when we took our quizzes on fungi (molds and yeast) my prof. let us all work in pairs when she saw that no one knew any of the answers to her questions! It was kewl.

"This guy Joe (CarlWinzlow) that I went to college with keeps hitting on me lately. What is his deal? His he serious? Maybe he is...but I just told him that he just wants a piece of ***. He admitted to that part but wouldn't elaborate about anything else...eerr. Well if he is serious I know that he is a nice guy and that he wouldn't hurt me so we'll see. And Joe, if you are reading this...what the **** is up with you lately? FrEaKo..."

CD: Red Hot Chili Peppers, "By The Way"

I just ate a two-foot sub. Two feet! That's like eating a midget for dinner! So I am naturally very full. I can't move so well and I'm really, reallly tired. There is also an overwhelming urge to drink water. Strange, because I'm full, but I'm thirsty? Is that possible? I thought there was no more room down there. The only reason I'm online now is because I can use my laptop while laying down and I can't do much else. Why is it so tiring, like I just did some exercise? I can just see me in a gym right now. The sweaty guy next to me will say "I just benched 350 for the first time" and I will say "Yeah, but I just ate a two-foot sub." And he will look at me in awe and say "Dude, you must have been training hard." "Cuz two foot subs are nothing to laugh at. And they're dangerous if you don't use a spotter!

CD: Ben Folds, "Rockin' The Suburbs"

The cops called me up recently. The sheriff's deputy told me that he's been trying to get a hold of me for weeks. A couple of months ago I hit a mailbox at 3 AM in a snowstorm and not only did I leave the scene of the accident--I didn't know it was a crime if you don't hit something living!--they found my front license plate in the snow--I didn't know it was gone--so now I've apparently been on the lamb since Christmas. Even worse, I left the country during this time. I apologized to the policeman and I told him I was sorry he couldn't get to me earlier since I was in Europe. Then he says "You were in Rome? Did you see the Fountain of Trevi?" "Yeah I was..." "Did you go to that nightclub across the street?" What the heck? So the cop's a good guy and he says he doesn't want to waste time arresting me, which is also good. So next time in Rome....

CD: George Harrison, "All Things Must Pass"

I didn't really feel like going out the other night so I told my friends to just go along without me and "get drunk." I instantly thought that they would have a great time without me. Have you ever heard the one comedian talking about how you always leave the party at the worst time, and how your friends call you up the next day and all their stories start with "Ten minutes after you left...!" Today I thought ahead and called the friend up first. Of course, what do you think I heard? "DUDE FRED YOU MISSED IT! It was like the BEST NIGHT EVER! Blah blah blah we met up with and blah blah party and blah blah we got on TV and blah blah SOOOO funny bork bork bork." Worse? THEN you have to tell them what you did, and it was "I read the paper and went to bed early." Bork bork bork.

CD: Beatles, "Past Masters Vol. 1"

So my father was flipping channels and got to some old movie about the Lindbergh baby kidnapping. So he watches it for a minute and he goes "Did they ever get their baby back?" [ed. note: This is where the reader starts thinking "Barbeque Sauce."] And I tell him "No." Then I add, "They found it later." So then he goes "Was it okay?" Well if they didn't get the kid back, I don't know!! And THEN he goes, "Was it dead?" Oh my. I myself have tried to stop asking The Redundant Question. You know, comments like "Really?" or "You don't say" or "Are you sure?" I know it annoys some people to no end, while for others it is 90 percent of what they might deem--with conviction--"conversation." It's worse on the phone, where if you don't INTERJECT with banter like "Yeah," "Uh-huh," or "HAHAHAHA" people will think you're not listening and get all "Are you still there?" at you. Yeah, whatever, okay, bye-bye, see you later then. Have a nice day!

CD: Bob Dylan, "Highway 61 Revisited"

I just finished vacuuming. My father has taken quite a liking to eating popcorn, and he's also found a fine hobby in not picking up dropped kernels. 'Tis sad that I must clean up after others, especially with a college degree, but I do live here rent-free. I guess I should really be complaining that I don't yet have a career, especially with a college degree. Well anyway, I was sucking up all these unpopped kernels when one of them got inside the machine and made this giant POW. Then I thought to myself, "What if it's extremely hot in the vacuum, and it's actually possible to make popcorn INSIDE THE VACUUM CLEANER!?" I tried again as I drove over some more kernels but I couldn't get the same loud noise. Maybe I can get a scientist to work on it. With an unused vacuum bag, of course...

CD: Bob Dylan, "Love And Theft"

I'm stupid, stupid, stupid. I've complained about this problem with my computer for about a month now. According to my stupidity, the modem wasn't working correctly, as every time I connected my telephone line to the machine all the phones would go dead. Well. So they sent me a new machine, and the first thing I saw when I opened the box was a big sheet saying "How to set up your computer." On that was a diagram showing all of the ports and jacks and whatnot, but it didn't seem right...after all, my phone jack was on the side, not the back...OR IS IT. You know how an Ethernet jack looks a lot like a phone jack? Well, that just shows how stupid Stupid STUPID I am. Here I've been making calls for about a month when all I had to do was put the phone cord in the slot marked with a little picture OF A TELEPHONE NEXT TO IT. This is stupidness of "Did you trying plugging it in?" caliber. No, worse. Almost to the point of it being, "It's loaded, but I clean it real fast." Bah!

CD: Dan The Automator, "Wanna Buy A Monkey?"

I have developed a theory which I call "Denny's Late Night." Research for this theory has taken about five years and possibly hundreds of dollars. The theory is as follows: when it's the weekend, it's after 11 and no one knows what to do, we end up at Denny's. Sad, yes, but true. I thought the theory was only applicable in the Buffalo area, but apparently it works in the Southtowns as well. I'm almost positive it works on Transit. Anyway, after arguing in a parking lot for near half an hour, the theory kicked in like clockwork. We TRIED going to Applebee's. We TRIED going to Chili's. We TRIED looking at shows and considered hanging out at someone's house. But the Theory, man. Maybe it should be declared a Law of Nature, like gravity and the Yankees. We need more stuff to do.

CD: White Stripes, "De Stijl" [again]

This is my post about paper clips. First you got your dinky clips. These are the ovular ones that are too small to ever be used on more than 3 sheets of paper. Can’t stand them. Then there’s the medium size. Those are almost okay, but sometimes they have little ridges or niches and I don’t know why. I don’t see it helping the clips’ semi-dinkiness any. So then you get the big ovular ones, which are cool. You can put like 25 sheets in there securely. Awesome. You also have those ones that look like two triangles welded together. I may prefer these. In this case the mediums are probably best because the large ones tend to let sheets slip out if don’t use them on enough papers (ten minimum is probably good). Then you got the black clamps. They usually only come in one size, unless you’re some sort of industrial secretary. You need at least 30 sheets for those. Ever use them with only 15 sheets? Schwag. So my pick goes to the medium-size triangle clips. Word is bond. And with that, I have written a post about paper clips. We can only go up from here.

CD: Justin Timberlake, "Justified"

[It's actually not half bad. It's not half good, either, but it's not half bad.]

The best part about talking to other teachers is hearing their stories. There are a lot of odd children out there….Anyway all you have to do is mention one interesting thing that happened “in my school today…” and they will all chime in. It reminds me of a pick-up game of basketball, actually. It starts out with you just shooting around, nonchalantly, at an empty hoop. Then some friends shoot around with you. That’s cool; you’re just enjoying the company. Then it gets competitive. They want to play a real game. But you wanted to just shoot around, dangit, you didn’t want to work up a sweat or anything. But now you have to do it. And then someone’s playing defense on you and they get all up in your face, thinking their story, I mean their game is better than yours. And then you have to fight them. They chose knives. Stay cool, boy. Bernardo, no!

CD: various, "The Roots Of Rap"

This is going to sound extremely disgusting but I think I’m sick again. This time it involves the collection of metric tonnes of mucus, phlegm, snot, spit, and other things that are pretty much the same thing in the way that magma and lava are synonyms. No later than every thirty minutes of every day this week, I must go through the process of draining myself. Blowing my nose has become a marathon event—and no, it’s not running! Each nostril, one at a time, must be configured to give ample space for “release”; basically meaning that it’s like a canal lock in there. It will take days to get there, sure, but eventually the stuff will reach its destination. Unless it goes the express route, which is a singular violent, unexpected and potentially embarrassing cough. But that’s enough about that.

CD: White Stripes, "De Stijl"

Joe’s making fun of me because he’s a stupid idiot. Here I am at his TA office at UB, just making sure he’s not minding his own business and working hard, and here he’s all “bork bork bork chemistry bork bork” and trying to correct papers. Well phooey on him. I’m looking at him right now, the big oaf. With his big, reddish sideburns and $110 blue jeans, telling me how he finally got this ONE problem done after working on it all day. Oh, now here he goes, out the door. Going to be stupid elsewhere. What a moronic imbecile. I’m not sure if I believe this “chemistry” stuff exists or he’s just writing a bunch of arrows and numbers on a page. Real scholars are going to look at his notes one day and tell everybody he’s King Tut. Wherever he is now, I hope he falls in. Hi Joe, I know you’re reading.

CD: Dan The Automator, "Wanna Buy A Monkey?"

So anyway the good folks at Dell are like anyone else when you have a complaint. First they actually try to help you, because chances are you're dumb and fixing the problem will only take a second. When it's something worse, they'll try to sound like they're helping but they really don't know what they're talking about. They will offer you a solution that might not work, but it pacifies you and keeps you off their tail. They sent me some replacement parts, but in a couple days I would have to call them back and complain again. So they tried Step 2 on me again and I was like "been there." That means I had to step it up by myself, and demand to see a manager. Of course I had to tell the operator that "it's not your fault, but I have to speak to them," because if you don't they either think you're hostile and need more psychologial support than technical, or you want to get them fired out of blind vengeance. If you keep bugging the manager--who will try only to reiterate all the bad solutions you've heard before--they WILL help you out, but only according to protocol. In this case I learned that the company's last resort is to give you a new hard drive. It has nothing to do with fixing a modem, but play along. The next day the hard drive came in the mail, the modem still didn't work, I called in again all formal like, and it was all wham, new computer, thank you ma'am. And to think I didn't learn anything while working at Burger King....

CD: Jurassic 5, "Bonus Tracks" promo

There's a commercial playing on TV nowadays that supposedly shows the Dell Tech Support Center (the Interns turn the lights off on them at night). The point of the ad is to show that the good folks at Dell work 24/7 to handle Your Call and help you get on your way. Like all ads, half of it is true. Yes, they're actually quite helpful and polite and whatnot, but there is a glaring error in this one. In the commercial, everyone speaks English! I dare you to call Dell Tech Support and get someone who speaks English as a first language! And after about a month of pondering it, I've finally decided that the people who DO work there in Real Life are all Korean. Why are they all in Nashville? No clue! But it sounds like I keep calling the Wong Family Reunion because they all sound the same, and they're nice as h*ck but NONE of them can get my laptop working. Oy!

CD: Blur, "M.O.R."

It’s around President’s Day, so here’s my attempt to remember all 43 Presidents by the end of this television show. Ready? Harrison (2), Johnson (2), Roosevelt (2), Bush (2), Adams (2), Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Jackson, Fillmore, Polk, Arthur, Lincoln, Pierce, Cleveland (counts twice, non-consecutive terms), Van Buren, Garfield, McKinley, Kennedy, Taft, Wilson, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, Clinton, Grant, Hayes…uhh, Letterman, Shaffer and, uh, Schrock. Nuts, I was THIS close….Stupid 19th century.

N.B. Missed: Tyler, Taylor, Buchanan

CD: Mahalia Jackson, "Gospels, Spirituals, & Hymns" disc II

My first decree as Emperor of the Free World will be to suppress all those who dare question my power. That goes without saying, really. All opposition must be squashed. How to destroy these rebel forces is the problem. Should I simply isolate and ostracize them? Should I infiltrate their infrastructure and tear them apart from within? Should I kill off their leadership and let the society fall into riotous turmoil? Should I bribe the populace with weapons, food, and lower taxes? Oh well. The second decree is to ban nuclear weapons, because everyone who opposes me will be gone so I won’t need them anymore. That was hard. Third? I’m buying the Buffalo Sabres. They will also get 25 points added to their season record so when they don’t make the playoffs this year it won’t look so bad.

CD: Mahalia Jackson, "Gospels, Spirituals, & Hymns" disc I

If you have a satellite dish, you can watch tons of sports you’ve either never heard of or never really cared about. Right now the World Cup of Cricket is playing a reel of highlights. I still don’t know what the heck they’re doing over there, but they seem to be training pretty hard. I can watch handball, curling, lacrosse, and something that I think is called slamball. Slamball is basketball, but with trampolines built into the floor. So now the players can dunk from three-point range, assuming someone doesn’t try to block them in midair, causing them to collide twenty feet up. And hit the ground. And bounce back up. The first time I saw it I thought it was a Gatorade ad, but then they cut to commercial. I just sat there thinking “Wuh?” Have you seen this sport? Oddness.

CD: Pete Seeger, "American Industrial Ballads"

The President used to look really stupid, like the kind of guy that needs extra time to read things. But since that whole September 11th thing, and that whole Iraq up the wazoo thing, it looks like he’s been thinking a lot more. You know, really pondering stuff and doing some problem solving. So now he looks smarter, but he also looks angrier. It’s been my racist opinion that dumb people are usually happier. I think it’s because they know of more problems in the world, like war and famine, while the not-so-thoughtful people watch American Gladiators. And while looking at this weblog a second time before posting it, I can see that my lack of word variety, such as the using the word “thing” three times instead of using more descriptive diction, just proves that I’m at least borderline inside the American Gladiators group.

CD: Coal Chamber, "Chamber Music"

Sometimes sentences seem really strange out of context. I heard one of them from a friend several weeks ago. He said, “I got addicted to sushi in Nashville.” Addicted? Sushi? Nashville? Those are three nouns I never thought I’d hear in succession. Anyway, it’s just a fun game to play with yourself if you feel bored at work, school, or especially while talking to your parents. (They always end up bringing up medical stuff, and that’s hilarious.) So the newest addition to the canon was at church the other day. At the end of the sermon the pastor gave this big, involved story about, um, lots of stuff. To sum up, he said: “God may not need your baloney, but he wants to give you his chicken.” Yep. Goodnight.


Edited by: TomServo0 at: 2/18/03 5:49:19 pm

02 07 03
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CD: Ben Folds Five, "The Unauthorized Biography Of Reinhold Messner"

I haven’t added to this weblog thing in a long time. And you know what? I don’t really want to! BWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! But I’ve been thinking about a few things. Like, would you rather find mayonnaise in your peanut butter jar, or peanut butter in your mayonnaise jar? Think about it. What else was I thinking about? I forgot. Ooh! Why is a bicycle called a bike and a tricycle called a trike but a unicycle not called a unike? I need answers! Why do animals follow kids home, but don’t follow adults? Why did that one guy quit Limp Bizkit? Why are they called Limp Bizkit? Why did they spell Bizkit with a Z? Why does everyone else call Z “Zed”? Who thought up all these silent letters? I DON’T LIKE SILENT LETTERS. Especially when it’s P. Silent Ps are messed up. Hey, I wrote another post!


Edited by: TomServo0 at: 2/18/03 5:47:47 pm

CD: Liz Phair, "Whip-Smart"

For those of you that don't know, I'm keeping my eye on you. I have saved, with several exceptions, every IM conversation and every personal E-mail from the past 4+ years. That means you can pick a day--any day--and I can tell you what you said to me. (I can also tell you what other people said about you, but that would go against my principles.) When I sent my computer in for repairs I kept these texts online, stored in my online mailbox, but after a month without a base the mailbox is getting full. Now I must transfer almost 200 correspondences to permanent data storage (a disc). That's going to take me a long, freaking time. Nuts. But if you ever DO want to know what you were saying (especially when you weren't sober, which happens more offen than you'd like to admit it) give me a ring. (P.S., I don't record phone conversations.)

jeoffroi (4:21:49 PM): the language of blog is a language of paradox
jeoffroi signed off at 4:21:52 PM.

CD: Squirrel Nut Zippers, "The Inevitable"

I was just thinking back to about a month ago when my father enlisted my help to get a desk out of my church in the middle of the night. It was one of those larger secretaries' desk with the filing cabinets built in. Also remember that it was around 0 degrees outside and windy, and the path from the door to the car was uphill and covered with about six inches of ice. The desk took an ample amount of pushing just to get it through the door (it technically did not fit), but it was the freezing cold and the absolute lack of solid footing that did me in. And I must be honest: right there, in front of my father and on church property, I still yelled out "F*CK!" as I slipped and let that 250 pound piece of office furniture fall on top of me. The end.

CD: Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, “Xtra Acme USA”

For some reason this little light has been on in my car that says something like “Service” underneath it or something. I had no idea. Eventually I had to pull out the manual and find out what the bloody thing actually WAS, let alone what it meant. After searching through a few pages of hieroglyphics, I found out it was the Engine light. That could mean a lot of things, like “the car’s computer needs tweaking” or “it’s going to blow up.” I figured it was closer to the first thing and only yesterday got an appointment at the dealership. After setting a time they gave me some line about the gas cap not being on tight enough or something, and to check that, but it’s almost an insult to my intelligence to suggest I missed something like that (of course, I once drove from Indianapolis to Columbus with the tank door upon). I then tried to think of something quick, almost an excuse to say I was in there for a Reason other than ineptitude. “Well, I, uh, hit a couple mailboxes a while back.” “Oh!” they collectively cried. That was a couple months ago, but I got those guys on my side now. Plus, now they’ve got a story to ask me about when I’m hangin’ out over there tomorrow! Keen!

CD: Black Label Society, “Black Label Society”

Joe was in my room the other day and commented on all the books I had. Well thank you Joe! Looking at them right now it does seem like I have a lot of books--like a wall full. I must admit, however, that it is an illusion. For instance, about a quarter of my shelf space is taken up by vinyl records. It means I’m less of a reader, though it does make me cooler. There is a small section at the top corner which is really not books but old magazines and yearbooks, which are only worth looking at once every couple of years. My stereo takes up the rest of the top shelf. So that leaves only three small shelves worth of books. Now I must admit that I read a whole shelf of me. I did NOT, however, read the other two shelves! For example, about one shelf is a bunch of history textbooks I took for free from a teacher that wanted to get rid of the promotional stuff she’s saved over the years. And the third shelf? On the bottom of each book is a little sticker that says USED SAVES. No REAL book-reader in their right-thinking mind would proudly display Used Book stickers on their Used Books! Take a second look, Joe, I’m not as smart as I look!

CD: Eminem, ¡§The Eminem Show¡¨

I¡¦ve been going back and forth with the good people at Dell because my computer is messed up. I thought that they must have these giant banks of people in Customer Service, but apparently there¡¦s just this guy named Walter that handles all my calls. Poor Walter. He has an accent from who-knows-where, and he does this weird thing where he slows down and speeds up what he says in mid-phrase, sometimes pausing in between. If I knew what the accent was, I might be able to translate! Anyway, the first couple of times I called Walter seemed all chipper and ¡§How may I help you?¡¨-ish. (Kind of cocky, too, if you ask me.) But today he seemed depressed. He talked slower and signed before he said stuff like ¡§Thank you for calling Dell. How may I help you today.¡¨ „²Note the period! I hope everything is all right at home. Walter seems like a decent guy, and having to work at Tech. Support you gotta feel bad for him. Sadly, the two hours I spent with him today probably just made him feel worse ¡¥cuz he couldn¡¦t help out at all. He seemed happier at Wegmans.

CD: U2, "Best Of 1990-2000"

This afternoon I finally got my voice back enough that I can speak whole sentences with cracking or going into a coughing fit--well, mostly. But it has also given me an extremely low voice. Maybe I have somehow widened my voice box or something, I don't know, but when I can talk I sound like Barry White. So my brother met one of my friends at his work today and they decided to call me. First they didn't know who it was, but once they figured out the situation they put me on Speaker Phone at Guitar Center and had me say stuff for fun like "Ohhhhh Bay-bee" reeeeel slooooow. This is the one part about strep throat that I'm going to miss. That and sleeping in until... well, sometimes I didn't "technically" get up. I wonder if it's possible to get my voice box surgically widened so I can talk like Barry White all the time! Oh baby! Or James Earl Jones at least! "THIS IS CNN." Cool!

CD: Cucumber + Ginseng, "El Presidente 2: Thology"

So Jeff and I were discussing the show "Inside the Actors Studio" and the part at the end where they ask the actor those Bernard Pivot Questionnaire. The last question is always: "If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?" I misread it and though it was "What would YOU say when..." But we both agreed that the least inspired answers came with this question. Always something cheesy and humorless. So he brainstormed the real question while I took the dead guy's point of view... Here's some of what I came up with.

Q. If Heaven exists, what would you say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

"This is already better than the 'Taxes'."

"You mean I'm never going to see my wife again?"

"I seek the Grail."

"Hey! You're just James Earl Jones behind a curtain!"

"Will I have to live next to Italians?"

"Hell yeah, I'm in! Rock on! (makes devil horns with hand)"

"So the Jehovah's Witnesses knock on your door too, huh?"

"What's the meaning of li... oh, now I remember. Never mind."

"It smells like couscous up here."

"So you tell us to build our faith on a foundation of solid rock, but then you built the Kingdom of Heaven on this CLOUD?"

"Now look, sir. I may be just po' country folk, but I know that back in Kansas we got long hard days on the dirt farm, bland food, and boring children. But we're a community, gall-dungit. A good one, with good people. And no, God, it don't matter how much influence you may have got o'er the universe, or what power you have o'er life and death, or what any of your fancy "Commandments" say, you're not going to take a God-faring American man and his family from the farm they've worked for four generations to save and move them away to some 'Heaven' place just like that! Not today, not ever!"


So yeah, we were really bored tonight.

CD: Cucumber + Ginseng, "El Presidente: Anthology"

The group Cucumber + Ginseng has rocked audiences around the world, but that is nothing compared to what they will do next. With the world at their oyster, record sales in the teens, and live shows that--literally--shocked their neighbors, C + G took an unpublicized long-term break from the music business. Dave "Dio" Hill has built a second cult following in his side band, "Tops Markets." Joe "Licks" Ferguson just performed at the world-famous Grand Old Opry in Nashville, only to be kicked out for being too "Rock & Roll." Frederick Charles Thomas "John Paul Jones" Schrock has taken up award-winning photography and hosts the popular game show "Name That Smell." Well guess what. The band has reunited with a new member, Tim "Novice" Schrock on drums, a new name, The Squeaky Divas, and a new mission: To rocK with a capital K. Because K is a really tough consonant.

CD: Soundgarden, "Down On The Upside"

Right now I am looking at my Gorby Dolls. Actually I guess they would be called Yeltsin Dolls but I've wanted a set for a long, long, time. You know those Russian wooden people witht the people inside, and when you open up one you get a smaller one and a smaller one, et cetera? They also come in a "Leaders of Russia" set. You got your Yeltsin, Gorbachev, Brezhnev, Kruschev, (sp?) Stalin, Lenin, and I think that's Czar Nicholas II in the very center, or just maybe they made Karl Marx instead. It's not up-to-date--no Putin--but hey, i's got all the Communists I need! I got it in East Berlin anyway so I wasn't expecting full modernization of doll technology anyway. But here's the Catch-22: You can't fully enjoy them unless you take them out and display them simultaneously, but the only way to have real fun with them is to keep them inside the big one to play with them later! What's an American to do?

CD: MC5, "Kick Out The Jams"

People still don't get it. After almost five days of barely speaking because of strep throat, people are still calling at me from opposite ends of the building and expecting to hear me yell something back. "WHO IS THE PHONE FOR?!" is probably the most frequent utterance. Well, I can write it down for you, or I could completely ignore you if the phone isn't for you. And since I'm running a fever and am really not in the mood to entertain such trivialities, I think I'll just lie here and let you keep yelling! In fact, what am I answering the phone for anyway, you lazy bum?! The best I can usually get out is a raspy, "Hall--hallo?" These past few days of near silence has given me a greater appreciation for Actual Silence; maybe by the end of the week I will discover it, too.

CD: Queens Of The Stone Age, “Songs For The Deaf”

I took 26 rolls of film in Europe. About 8 pictures came out well. First, I turned them into the good, unpaid and ununionized folks at Wal-Mart, which required that I fill out 26 of those Photo Envelope things. I told the girl I’d be back in “about an hour” which is AN IRONIC TWIST OF FATE completely lost on her. Then she said they’d be ready by Saturday, which they weren’t. So I came back Saturday and they said “That girl CRAY-zee, they’ll be ready on Monday,” which they weren’t. Then I came on Tuesday and yes, they would be ready, but not for two hours. What to do? I looked at the (censored) CD section. I ended up buying a Game Boy game and being quite upset at myself for “wasting my money.” I then bought a Veggietales DVD, and by then my good sense nearly walked. Ninety more minutes. I decided to take a walk outside. I checked out the dollar store and then—ooh!—a discount shoe store. I bought me some sneakers for the first time in 2 ½ years and somehow felt like I accomplished something. One of the most fun ways to spend an hour and a half is “trying out” new shoes, skipping and jumping up and down and basically doing the mating dance of the dodo bird in a back aisle near the storeroom while playing with new toys like shoehorns and ankle stockings. By the way, developing 26 rolls of film costs about $200, give or take a dollar. Just enough left for a set of 20 pencils at the Dollar Tree next door.

CD: Radiohead, “Amnesiac”

I’m quite proud of the fact that I skipped the Super Bowl for the first time since 1988. Maybe if I stop watching it altogether, the teams I want to win will actually do so…Nobody talks about the game the next day anyway; they only want to talk about the commercials. But since I didn’t watch the Super Bowl, here are some other commercials I like (see how I’m scraping for blog subjects?):

-“WHERE’S THE BEEF?!” Still the best.

-The one where the guy is sniffling, sneezing, headache, cough, etc. That guy looks like crap.

-The Hose Roller thing where the “Other Guy” keeps fumbling with his hose, eventually dropping it, whereas the lady next to him has that Hose Roller thing and can do it with one hand. Note how the guy also has an untucked shirt and ratty hair. He just can’t keep ANYTHING together!

-I miss the Pets.com dog.

-You know, the one where the mother in the family is all happy to be doing the laundry or the dishes or making breakfast that no one has time to sit down and eat? But thank goodness she spent X dollars on the brand name version of X that somehow makes banal chores like cleaning up after, feeding, and washing her family (something they should really learn how to do by themselves) just plain magical. Remember that one? As magical as dancing stuffed teddy bears, floors with animated bald men looking at you through their shine, or flying cereal bowls that metamorphose into granola bars mid-flight. Hey mom, whatever keeps you off the Vicadin.

-Sign up for the Army, get a free pair of socks!

CD: Beastie Boys, “Check Your Head”

School has only been going on for a week but I’ve already noticed some trends. In one class, the professor felt it necessary to warn us about the courseload; he wants us to know as soon as possible that readings of up to 75 pages per week will be assigned. Gee, I know this is Grad School, but why is he demanding so much of us? Seventy-five pages might take over an HOUR to read!! In another class, I told the teacher in her office that I had Strep Throat and probably should meet her at another time (it’s an Independent Study Course) and then noticed she had been smoking and drinking coffee for the past hour and had a hoarser voice than me. I didn’t feel so bad then. A third teacher was impressed that I was the only one who had taken the cellophane off the textbook. I told him Chapter 9 looked pretty interesting, to which he replied “Oh yes, that’s written by a very good author.” Nobody else in the room knew that he was the author… Umm… there was one more class. AH HA! The guy with the accent. Very bright and entertaining, but he writes with his left hand like it’s his left hand, y’know? The text slopes upward at about a 55 degree angle. It’s a Arab studies course, so I’m assuming that writing English for him really IS writing backwards. And that wuz me furst wik at skool.

CD: Liz Phair, “Exile In Guyville”

When Donald Rumsfield said that France and Germany were the “Old Europe” and didn’t know what they were talking about when it came to the War on Terror, he shows he apparently hasn’t been to Berlin. I don’t think half those buildings are more than twenty years old. Not to mention their parliament building has only been in use since 1999. And as for terrorism, I think the Germans know darn well what a terrorist regime is! Dang! Who hired this guy? And isn’t this the wiener we have a picture of shaking hands with Saddam Hussein in the 1980s? EWW. Those are cooties of the highest order! Did you wash your hands, Donald? Because you’re not getting dinner until you wash your hands! And take off your shoes, they’re all mudd…DON’T SLAM THE SCREEN DOOR! How many times do we have to tell you? You better learn some manners, young man!

CD: Outkast, “Stankonia”

Today I went to the doctor and for the first time in over five years I didn’t have to take off my pants! Whoo-hoo! It’s about time, cuz that lady must be bored of me by now. (That poor receptionist… Just kidding.) For some reason my REAL doctor is either too busy to see me or I’m just not bleeding enough for him to be interested, so they send me to the nurse practitioner. Last year I busted up my knee, and had to take off my pants for her to look at it. She had some weird system where she gave me one of those paper blanket things to put on my lap, but she also needed me to lift my leg and twist it around…it was inevitable that she see my underwear. But hey--I’m an adult, you’re a doctor—and they’re boxers! Not a problem! Before that, I came in for my college physical, and, well I’ll leave the details of that to myself. So it was really great that I could walk into that room and hear “Fred, nice to see you!” instead of the regular “Drop ‘em.” Or whatever the medical term is.

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CD: Alicia Keys, “Songs In A Minor”

I can’t speak. Some weird throat infection has taken control and all I can mutter out is a painful cough once in a while. Ironically, once you get a throat infection you have to do more talking. You have to explain to people you meet that you can’t talk because of your throat infection. You have to call in to work and explain to them that you can’t go in today because of your throat infection. You have to call the doctor and tell the receptionist that you have a throat infection and you need to set up an appointment. Your friends call and want to know what you’re up to and you strain to tell them that you’re doing nothing because you have a throat infection and you can’t do anything later. And, of course, there are the jerks that keep asking you, “Hey, is your throat feeling any better?” from the other side of the apartment and expect you to yell back “No, I still can’t talk!” at the top of your lungs. I gotta go make some calls now.

CD: The Strokes, “This Is It”

There is a house on Main Street that was abandoned a few years ago. It was pretty downtrodden and finally the property was sold—so I hear—to put up a new Dunkin’ Donuts (YES!). So the building was torn down last fall. Its remains sit there still, covered in several inches of snow. Apparently, but not shockingly, that’s illegal. The big bad town of Newstead is trying to bring the owners to task for getting rid of the debris. The weekly Akron Bugle seems confused, however. Sure, what’s left still legally a “building,” but it’s like they don’t know that WE know it’s really a pile. This week’s paper reiterates that “Owners of the property will have an opportunity to appear in person and provide evidence that the property is not in violation of the provisions of the Unsafe Building Law during the hearing.” Good luck, guys! It also outlines what the Unsafe Building Law STATES, like we need to know that? I was originally going to list all 12 possible violations of this “building,” but come on. There is no building. The walls and roof are parallel to each other. If you wanted to vacuum the carpet you’d have to rent a forklift. To light a fire in the chimney, you would use the master bedroom as kindling. This is a Late Parrot!

CD: Tenacious D, “Tenacious D”

Ladies and Gentleman, the new college semester is now upon us which means one important thing and one important thing only: Late Lunch at Subway! Oh Subway, how I’ve missed you so! For so many long and torrid weeks I have yearned for your fresh lettuce and cucumbers! Oh how I have desired your choice of choice of five kinds of Subway™ breads and sauces! Great Subway, do I not rejoice at the speed in which your Subway Sandwich Artists create such wonderful delectables? Do I not stand in awe at the amazingly low number of grams of fat in your sandwiches, not including, of course, the addition of cheese or condiments? Yea to your Hot Chicken Teriyaki sandwich! Yea to your Italian B.M.T.! And yea to your Three-for-a-Dollar deal on chocolate chip cookies!

CD: Presidents Of The United States Of America, “Pure Frosting”

I am “teaching” a study hall right now. There is this one kid—where did he go? Oh, there he is—that just keeps staring at the computers longingly, as if at a picture of a long-lost lover. See, he spent the first ten minutes of the period typing OYOYOYOYOYOYOYOYOYOY into the computer and turning on the computer voice to read it to the class. So we kicked him off. When it comes to computers in school, kids don’t think to themselves, “Yay, research!” It’s more like, “Darrr, com-pyoo-trz r fun!” and their brains stop. Computers are an excuse to NOT do work; four years in a wired dorm has taught me that lesson well. Now he sits in the back muttering “Now I’m so borrrrrrrrred.” Aw.

CD: Radiohead, “I Might Be Wrong: Live Recordings”

The dentist is all proud of me and stuff. I hadn’t been there since—lemme think—August 13, 1996, but man, he took one look at my pearlies and was like “Wow, you’ve really kept up your teeth; what’s your secret?” Well, Dr. Dentist, it’s ancient and Chinese. Actually, it’s because I didn’t follow doctor’s orders. Once he told me that it looked like I had weak gums and should switch to a soft-bristled toothbrush. Then I did, and when I went back he said the exact same thing. Forget that! So last year I decided to go for it and bought myself a MEDIUM strength brush. I bleed every once in a while, but it’s worth it! That’s my secret: I don’t go to the dentist and I don’t listen to a word he says!

CD: Bikini Kill, "The C.D. Version of the First Two Records"

Today I spent 2-3 hours with the good folks at Dell trying to figure out why my laptop has suddenly gained the ability to disable every telephone in my house. Somehow, whenever I plug a cord into my modem our number loses its ringtone. Now I have to wait a week to get a new modem sent to me. It also means that I will be subjected to sitting up when I use the Internet, an act that, once you're given the option of lying down and take it, is something you hate to go back to. Therefore, since I am lazy and have also just written ten pages on what I did on my winter vacation, This is a perfect excuse for me to stop doing daily blah blah blogs for a while; about a week to be exact (I hope) before I get the computer fixed. I will also take this chance to officially retire the Daily Quote because it just makes this post thing that much harder to write. I'm still surprised people read this stuff, anyway! Maybe I'll try some new things this year, like rhyming what I right, if I can get my timing right. But if the Dell folks spoke correctly, I'll go right back to my writing directly.

The other day I bought a black shirt and some black socks. The day before that I applied to the University of Rochester. I'm turning into Steinman.

Europe Journal

BERLIN

So what I remember learning today is that the Germans are really, really, really sorry about that whole Holocaust/World War II thing. They can’t apologize for that enough. One large city block is cleared to be a memorial for all murdered Jews. Just flat land. Very depressing. Ate a Berliner (a jelly doughnut, not a citizen) and it was okay; Ed Jr. wanted to stop at a Dunkin Donuts for breakfast which really says “native foods,” don’t you think? What else do I remember? Well, they’re still cleaning up from the war. There are still bombed-out buildings hanging out, especially in the East. The Checkpoint Charlie Museum is filled mostly with old warning signs that told all the Germans that their country was split in half. They all start with “Achtung!” and then they say something like “Do not cross the river under penalty of death” or “Have proper identification ready” or “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” You know, stuff that people would yell under stress if they had to. In East Berlin I bought me one of those wooden Russian dolls that you can open up and find a smaller doll inside. Neat! I always wanted one of those! This one is of Soviet leaders, from Yeltsin all the way down to Lenin and I think Karl Marx, but it’s too small to tell. So far my impressions of German folks are good. Their trains run right on time, which means they’re just like Buffalo’s subway except it works and it takes you somewhere. At the Reichstag (German Parliament building), the placards try to make abundantly clear that “The sham government of the Third Reich never held session inside our government headquarters.” It’s like Okay, guys, we’ve all moved on now! But everyone remembers when the Berlin Wall fell, and there’s a line through the city marking where it was. It’s an odd photo opp, especially as you try to take pictures of it in a busy intersection. Maybe it’s their way of getting the last Americans out of the country.






AMSTERDAM

You know, if you don’t smoke pot, like hookers, or own a bicycle, Amsterdam’s probably not for you. But we tolerated it for a few days. The first thing I remember is the bike garage, which must have had something like 7000 of the things on three levels. What I want to know is, how do these people get from their house to the bike garage? Anyway, I had the pannekoken. There’s the Beastie Boys lyric that says “When I’m in Holland, I eat the pannekoken,” and I always thought that referred (no pun intended) to marijuana. How foolish of me—they’re pancakes. And you roll weed in them. I’m just kidding. But speaking of drugs, we were walking down the street when Joe just kind of blurts out “Hey, as long as we’re here, why don’t we buy some crack?” Two seconds later, a guy walks up to Joe and asks him, “You’re looking for crack?” “No, I was only kidding.” “Are you sure?” “I WAS MAKING A JOKE.” He was very nice for a drug dealer, though. I actually felt bad for Joe because he really wanted to go to the Van Gogh museum but we didn’t have the time. We did make the time for the Anne Frank House, however, and it was a total waste. So these people hid in the attic, right? And fifty years later, someone thinks “Hey, I can make some money off of this,” puts up a couple of guardrails and wham, charges people like $6.50 to look at an empty attic. Whoo. And it brings in people by the droves; they line up down the street to see Anne Frank’s wallpaper. What else? You can’t take pictures in the Red Light District, but for the most part you probably don’t want to. And because property taxes used to be based on how much ground your house covered, all the buildings are really thin and high (in altitude, not under the influence). In order to get furniture upstairs they use a rope-and-pulley system outside, and so the furniture doesn’t hit the wall on the way up the building actually comes out towards the street as it goes up. So every building looks like it’s going to fall on you. That really makes me fell bad for the people walking around on mushrooms…dude.





PARIS

Paris on New Year’s Eve is nothing like Dick Clark does. First and most disappointing, there’s no big clock. People just sort of collectively decide when it turns into the next year, so it is midnight from about 11:30 to 12:30 in the morning. Second, the use of such explosives in New York City would probably get you deported. Paris doesn’t have a fireworks display, but the Parisian citizens compensate by bringing whatever sparklers, M-80s, rockets, or scud missiles they’ve been storing up for the last twelve months. And I’m only kidding about the scud missiles. Under the Eiffel Tower is Ground Zero, and anyone down there has to prepare to dodge everything thrown at them—purposely. We tried to stay away from the action but there were a bunch of kids—Joe and Ed refer to them as Arab terrorists (?) —that would run up to you, light a firecracker in your face, yell “Bonne Annee!” and throw them at you. We did a lot more running that night than we expected to. While trying to leave the area at 12:30, the major road was filled with cars that were scattered in fifty different angles—there was no use driving, the morons—and drunken revelers danced in between the four lanes of one-way traffic, personal champagne bottles in hand, jumping on car hoods and chasing after random girls to, well, French them. The French really aren’t as rude as people say…wait, yes they are. And I completely forgot that they closed the subway there at 1 AM meaning that 3 million people in the street had to walk home in the cold. THAT’S rude. Especially when the riot police is yelling at you to get back while he closes the metal gate to the station right in front of you. ESPECIALLY when your hotel room is like ten kilometers out of town and you end up walking for the next four hours in the cold. Speaking of subway stops, the ones near the hotel happened to be open, where we found two Anglophone girls about our age trying to find their way to Nation station, meaning they were too drunk, stupid, or both to notice they passed that stop twenty minutes before they actually got off the train. One said they were from “Vancouver,” the other from “Texas.” Yeah, right. You sound like you’re from Michigan State. Anyway, they asked what we thought of New Year’s in Paris and Joe says something like “It was one of the most awesome experiences I’ve ever had,” to which Texas girl says, “I’ve partied harder.” So I feel bad for her, since she could have had a much more exciting time in her Michigan State dorm drinking a 24-pack of Budweiser in front the strobe light she bought at Spencer’s, instead of blowing all her parents’ money on a trip to Europe to get the same effect. The next morning we slept until 1:30, mostly because we needed that five hours of sleep to keep alive. Rockin'.






GENEVA

Switzerland is the only place where we had to exchange our money, from the universally accepted Euros to the lesser known Swiss Francs. Darned Swiss. You know they just joined the UN last year? In their attempt to be completely unbiased and peaceful, they’ve stayed out of the EU. That means one Euro is work like 1.34 Swiss Francs, or some weird computation that’s like measuring time in quarts. Our impression of Switzerland is very good, however, even though the city was on holiday that night and virtually empty. After all, they do have the UN there, and the Red Cross, so they must be decent folks. The Francophones there are polite, and every where you go sells Swiss Army Knives and Toblerones. We went to the church Martin Luther preached at after he was kicked out of Germany—I think that’s what happened—but it was closed. So we went to dinner at Movenpick because it was the only thing open and we sat next to an old lady that spent about an hour and a half picking at her $20 dinner (about 34n3.Q Swiss Francs) until she happily asked for her check. Like she was making a sand castle or something. We found a few statues in around the UN-Red Cross area that looked pretty odd so I made Ed and Joe stand next to them and imitate them while I took incriminating photos. I hope those came out. Did I mention Geneva is in the middle of the Alps? I don’t know how we did it, but we walked uphill the entire day. Even when we were backtracking. Strangely, we never saw the Swiss Army, that is until we got to Rome….






ROME

Rome is nuts. I’m a history major, and I almost went into shock. There are so many historical thingamabobs, or monument whatchamajiggers to commemorate the historical thingamabobs, that we eventually stopped walking around for fear that we’d find more stuff to look at. I wore a light brown, cordoroyish shirt with large breastpockets, where I put my oft-used camera and my daily allowance of five rolls of film. I went trigger-happy for two full days and Ed started calling me Generalissimo Photog, which kind of stuck. We had a tour book that said one of the hostels was called “Fawlty Towers,” coincidentally just like the old British sitcom. Then I found out it was actually based on the British sitcom, so it was even funnier. Then I found out that’s where Ed made our reservations and it was like winning $5 in the lottery! Sweet! The Roman subway has less stops, more people, less seats, more graffiti, less reliability and more sudden brakings than the one in New York City. Rome has the Pinto of subways. Still, whenever you get off, there’s tons of cool stuff! We went exploring around the Coliseum and found a 16th century chapel that was just covered in murals and other interesting artistic endeavors. We found the archaeological remains of a pagan temple and the Circus Maximus within a couple minutes walk. One of the best things was outside the city—the catacombs—and I was happy to have dragged Ed and Joe to it. I don’t feel bad about getting off at the wrong bus stop, or making them walk down a rural road with no shoulder while little Italian cars missed them by inches going about 70 miles an hour, because we got there, right? It’s weird finding a cave that second century Popes were buried in. A Spanish lady who spoke decent English told our Italian tour guide that we should pray and that made all the opened graves seem a bit more homey. Still, the tour guide told us that she once took a group of British folks down there and she hasn’t found them yet. Nuts, I tells ya!






VATICAN CITY

The Vatican is the shiznit. Word. It is the smallest country in the world, but per square mile it is ten times cooler than anything else out there. Even better then Luxembourg. The Vatican is also where I was the least able to get along with, and Generalissimo Photog should apologize to his comrades for acting like a military sergeant as I tried to make time for everything. First off, the country is protected by the Swiss Guard; how cool is that? And you wonder, if the Swiss never fight, are they good? Then again maybe the Catholics hired them because they DON’T want them to fight. Either way they’re armed with axes. Yeah. We took the elevator to the top of St. Peter’s Basilica…well, not exactly the top. That takes you to the rim of the dome, probably the most impressive sight of the entire trip. It’s crazy stepping into that doorway and realizing you’re ten stories up and there is a 300-foot chasm right in front of you. And that chasm, and the dome over it, is covered in gold, mosaics, and Who knows what else. The extra 330 steps to the very top were almost as interesting, as you had to walk up stairs sideways as you went up the side of the dome. I could talk all day about this place. In the Vatican museum, Joe had to walk against traffic for 20 minutes to get back into the Sistine Chapel because he didn’t know “the picture with the two guys almost touching” was in there and he had to see it before we left. There were wall paintings and carvings at every step. Even if the museum were empty it’d be a great museum. And what supposedly remains of St. Peter is underneath the Basilica, in it’s own special room with golden everything and diamond encrusted stuff that nobody can look at except through a window. I’d like to spend another week in the Vatican, just snooping around, trying to sneak into the Pope’s basement, but the Swiss Guards would probably hack me to death. The next time I go I’m going to bring a bunch of postcards with Martin Luther on them, just so I can get them stamped with the Vatican postmark.






AUSTRIA

After two very long days in Rome, it was actually nice to get stuck in a stuffy train car overnight. On the way down from Rome we were put in a sleeper with this Italian guy and his snoring, four-year old son, and some girl named Ja Young, who didn’t say a word the entire time but had a stuffed koala bear attached to her backpack next to the name tag that said “Korea.” Nice people, but too many for a 6 by 6 by 8 cell. So this time Ed tried to make sure no one got in the cabin. He had us shut the door, close the curtains, turn out the lights, and stretch waaaaay out over the seats so it looked like there was no room. But first we had to get rid of three guys from Senegal, or some other country. Their language sounded like a mix of Spanish, French, Swahili (though I’ve never heard Swahili and don’t really know what I’m talking about) and Mooklar, a language I just invented. But they seemed very nice. One they left we put our plan into action and took over the cabin. We slept head to head to head, just like the Beastie Boys’ “Hello Nasty” cover, and talked girl talk all night. At about six or seven in the morning an Austrian border guard—the real freaking military—threw open the door and yelled “PASSPORTS!” Joe and Ed didn’t wake up fast enough to notice, but he was smiling the whole time. It must have been really funny watching Larry, Moe, and Curly fly around leap up from a pile of coats and luggage like startled moles. Bumping into each other for no reason other than we were still dreaming, Joe gave him his ticket, or the first piece of paper he could find, to which the border guard yelled at him again until he figured it out. I had mine but he barely looked at the thing; his smile just got BIGGER. Then he yelled “THANK YOU!” and we never saw him again. So that’s what I remember about our 45 minutes in Austria.






MUNICH

Munich¡¦s a good, hearty town. I think it was Sunday that day, so everything was closed again. We got there about eight or nine in the morning and Ed knew of a nice pub that we could go visit, and since Joe and I didn¡¦t know where we were going (a normal occurrence) we just followed him. The pub makes its own beer, is about five hundred years old and prefers natives to tourists. We forced Joe to drink a liter of beer for breakfast, and Ed already posted about that; it¡¦s as funny as it sounds. ƒº A great part about this tavern was that certain tables had a coat of arms hanging over it. We found out that certain groups of local men claim these tables, and no one else is allowed to sit there. Ever. Their own special beer mugs are kept locked away for when they come. And there a group of them was, 10 AM on a Sunday morning, preparing for a long day of drinking beer. One guy even had a drinking glove so as not to get repetitive stress injuries in his hand. That¡¦s Messed Up. There was a band and everyone was having a pretty good time, but we had to go, especially Joe, who had to pee like nobody¡¦s business. Outside at noon we watched the town clock go off, especially interesting because it¡¦s one of those old ones with little people in them that dance around every hour. About fifty people came out to watch it, and it was interesting for a full two minutes; good thing we ran out there in the blistering cold to go see THAT. I can¡¦t really remember anything else about Munich; Joe was drunk enough for all of us. Now where did we go next?





COLOGNE

Ed really hyped up the cathedral in Cologne, Germany (which is Koln, Deutchland to the natives). “You really have to see it, Fred.” “It’s really cool, it’s the biggest Gothic cathedral in the world.” Blah blah blah. So one day we step out of the train station and Boom, there it is. This 700+ foot church is standing right in front of us. Big, black, pointed, covered in gargoyles. It’s so big it blocks out the sun. And we just stand there, staring at it. “Holy CRAP.” And nobody says anything for like three minutes. Then Ed says, “Yeah, the first time we saw it we were like ‘holy crap’ too.” Ed and I came back a couple days later and I was still like “Holy CRAP” for a full day. I just kept repeating, “It’s so BIG!” But inside was sweet. Imagine a building like that full of mosaic floors with stones no bigger than your pinkie fingernail. The thing took 600 years to build! They also just opened a museum in the basement with some funky relics, like some cattle brandings from the 17th century that’s supposed to cure Mad Cow Disease. Wuh? The rest of the city was pretty nice as well; there are hardly any cars downtown because like most cities in Europe, the streets are too small for ‘em. They tried the same thing in America: they call them shopping malls and since they’re away from population centers the parking lots and highways needed take away the convenience they supposedly make. Ed and I went to a store called Media Markt, kind of a Circuit City. Over there they still have a “Black Music” section for CDs. That really isn’t a big a problem as Ed and I going CD shopping, because we both have serious problems in that category. I think we got like 12 CDs total and then went to Pizza Hut. Ed has been hankering for American food the whole trip—he forced his parents to go to Dunkin Donuts in Berlin for breakfast—so I let him succumb to his urges for once. I took the plunge and had the pizza with pineapple on it, because I figured, hey, yesterday I had pizza with tuna fish on the top; how could this be any worse? I came out of there a convert. Bathrooms cost no matter where you go, and I paid the attendant double because I just felt bad. What else happened in Koln? Well, it was settled around 60 AD by the Romans, but that doesn’t have much to do with my trip.






AACHEN

Aachen always reminds me of the Castle Aaaaaaaaagh mentioned in “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.” It’s almost as historical! Here we saw remnants of an old Roman watchtower (still in use), and the church that Charlemagne used to control the Holy Roman Empire from. There’s a bust of Charlemagne in there that actually contains his real skull; Ed found out that whenever a new king took power they would bring out Charlemagne’s head to welcome him. Geez. There was some other story about how the church was bombed during World War II but the late Charlemagne’s Magical Powers deflected everything off the roof. Instead, the bombs all hit the church next door! Ha ha ha ha ha! Ahem. I took pictures of quaint streets and old stones while Ed bought postcards. After all, if you take a bunch of pictures, why buy postcards, and if you buy a lot of postcards, why use a lot of film? We dropped off Joe a day or two before, and realized that our conversations focused more on history, school, and big words compared to when Joe was with us. By the end of the trip, a good 80% of what Joe said involved the word “Bork!” Remember the Swedish Chef from “The Muppet Show,” and nobody knew what he was talking about? In Europe, it was like we were meeting 1000 new Swedish Chefs every day, and we imitated them often through our brash American ignorance. France: “Qu’est-ce que le bork bork?” Germany: “Borken ze bork?” Italy: “Borka borka! That’s-a spicy-a meatball.” Ah, Aachen.






BRUSSELS

Brussels was cold. Hot d*ng, it was cold. You know how cold it is outside now? It was COLDER there. Ed normally prefers walking to the subway—What better way to see the sights?—but we gave up quickly because we were turning blue. So anyway, we kept going into a bunch of churches for no real reason other than they looked neat…and because we were COLD and trying to stay warm! The only thing colder than the weather was the reception we got at the Court of Justice, a really great building where, apparently, some serious shizzy was going down. In Flemish, “shizzy” means depositions, asylum requests, and other international Serious Business. We scrammed without taking pictures because we were afraid of getting arrested. Earlier that day we had the totally required Belgian Waffles and some chocolate (good!) and made our vacation compete visiting the Mannekin Pis. At the waffle place we realized that all the nice French people left France, for several reasons:

1.) The store was closed, but they let us in and took our order

2.) When we left a tip, they got all upset and tried to tell us in French that we paid them too much!

3.) A fellow American tourist’s credit card didn’t work and she “had no money” (sounds dubious) and was allowed to come back later when she found a cash machine

4.) They were awesome waffles!

We also went to the new EU complex, where we found a Tourist Information center with more free stuff than I could carry. So I made Ed carry it for me! Ooh, what else? BRUPARCK! A leftover from a World’s Fair of old, BRUPARCK! has the greatest movie cineplex in the work, a 300-foot tall model of an atom, and fish and chips (good!) for only 7 euros 50.






FRANKFURT

I went to the airport in Duesseldorf to fly home, but not only did the flight get canceled, United Airlines declared bankruptcy and by the time I got there the company had packed up and left. Somehow I ended up in Frankfurt. Frankfurt’s airport has about 400 front desks, and that’s not an exaggeration. I don’t remember how I got home. I mean, I took a plane, but other than that I’m pretty clueless. All I remember is having a cold, running about a mile down a hallway, and having about ten security guards get friendly with me in the course of seven minutes. I played a lot of Game Boy on the plane and tried not to throw up. And that’s the end of my trip! Thank goodness, because I’ve written ten pages about it and I don’t want to write any more. Time for a nap. Bonne annee!

2003

CD: various, "All Areas Volume 35"

Hey, folks. I decided to skip out of the country for a couple weeks, so, Jiminy, I'm really behind on my posts. So the first posts will be about my trip to Europe, done on a per city basis. I also have an aborted trip log that lasted two full days (don't laugh, it lasted longer than the "running schedule" I instituted last summer). But I'm stuck in the house with a cold and I'm determined to make up the sixteen days I missed. Including this post: Happy New Year! 2003 is shaping up to be a real humdinger of a twelve month cycle. Speaking of which, a more accurate calendar would have thirteen 28 day periods based on the cycle of the moon, which was the intent in the first place. The problem was that 13 is an unlucky number, so they cut it down to twelve and made sure Black History Month got the short end of the deal. So what should the thirteenth month be called? Here are some suggestions, in brainstorming order:

-Bush!
-Rocktober
-Winslow
-Lavigne
-Bork Bork Bork!
-Shibby
-Stern Rules!
-Friday
-Dick Hertz
-The Extra Month, brought to you by Pringles New Sour Cream and Onion Chips. Pringles: Once You Pop, You Can't Stop!
-Month of the Llama
-Grunge
-Danko
-H (the H is silent)
-Atari
-Hammertime

That's enough of that. Finally, the quote of the year so far:

Margaret: "You smell!"
Jerry: "What do I smell like?"
Margaret: "Like the inside of a turtle!"