fuck you all for breathing, goodnight.
Zoso was soso.
A+ on the music.
F- on the crowd interaction. I felt like I was in church.
Maybe I wasn't in the right mood. Who cares.
I dressed alot differently than my normal t-shirt tonight. I got some strange looks. I'm not scared of those looks. I'm scared of the looks that signify "Hey... you're in frat." because hey... I'm not. And I never will be. Don't touch me. I'm also scared of getting burned by the really fucking stupid guy dancing and waiving his cigarette around. You fuck.
Work is soon upon me. Sleep is what I need I guess. Along with a way out of this.
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you speak with a forked tongue
I'm still trying to get clover to get off his lazy ass and say something important.
Maybe he'll do it by then end of the weekend. We'll see.
On a serious note, I wanted to say something about Mary Kate and Ashley.
I used to think these 2 broads had it good. Now, I dont. What happened to them? Ones "in rehab" for a supposed eating disorder while both should be in rehab for being complete fucking idiots.
Oh yeah.
Ruud Van Nistelrooy is a
fucking badass.
Do it Ruud. Do it.
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bumfuck nowhere
Today, I was going through a stack of pictures from the past 2 years of school. Lots of memories. Good and Bad.
About 3/4 of the way through the stack, I came across a really special picture. A picture which took me back to freshman year, damn, almost 3 years ago.
Me, Nick, and Chase were partaking in one of our occasional all day movie passes. After the 9 o'clock show, we walked out to my car. I almost didn't notice it at first because it was raining. The picture was under my windshield wiper. The following 10 minutes were of complete confusion (mixed with random segments of humor and vomiting.)
What would you think if you found this on your windshield?
What would your reaction be if you flipped the picture over to reveal this?
the handprint jumped out at me
please let the ass and the rest of melissa know that she failed in getting her message to the correct person. if you recognize the handprint, maybe you could do some detective work to find out who melissa is. if you do find her, you may also let her know that her ass is proabably now responsible for causing some kid in bumfuck iowa one horrible masturbation experience.
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Here's my ticket, I'll be sitting next to you, thanks.
I know. You're already thinking it.
But I promise, this time, I have to explain. It's worth it.
Really, really worth it.
It was Saturday Night. Notice the S and the N. Very strategic.
I, myself, Chase, and Luke are downtown. (PBR is a great cheap beer by the way.)
We've had our hand at various bars, no luck at finding that special place.
Somewhere to call home for the rest of the night. And then we found City Bar.
City Bar.
Before I know it, Luke is dancing with half-naked ladies on the bar, and in fact,
is half-naked himself. But I'm straying from the message here.
This is not about Luke's legwork at the helm with baring breasts.
This is about something much, much more serious.
Following the conclusion of Luke's lesson on how to collect #'s, we have a drink.
Last call shortly follows, so we begin recollecting on the night. Stay with me.
This is when it gets interesting.
I take a sip. I look up. I see (we'll call him Virgil. why Virgil? because I'm fucked up and don't remember his real name. but names aren't important here.) Virgil. Virgil is dressed in a white hanes tee and a pair of slightly worn faded glory jeans. his hair short, his shoes...there.) But if you look close, really really close, you notice what most might easily miss. Virgil...has a prosthetic arm. Not one of those really cheesy arms that are made to look exactly like human arms, but one of those straight out of Terminator arms with stainless steel hooks at the end... which are 100% functional. Upon further inspection, you might notice that Virgil's other arm, is... well, invisible. Yes, I said it. Invisible. Spell it out if you need to.
Non-existant is the word which popped into my mind as he sat down at the table with us. Have a beer I thought, but only, I couldn't bring myself to say it. I could only pull this cigarette out of his mouth as he nodded me to do so. (Am I dreaming?) I pulled the cigarette from his mouth and he nodded accordingly. How polite. He then asked us if we had heard of him. Heard of you? Is this a joke? Where are the fucking cameras???
You know the Red and Black? The Red and Black, the school newspaper. Remember? Thursday. That was me. Thursday. That was me.
HOLY SHIT. The Thursday Red and Black. Of course I remember. Out of the last 30 odd Red and Blacks published on Thursday, of course yours sticks out above all. You were the guy on the front WITH NO FUCKING ARMS. AT ALL.
Honestly, I don't remember you being on the front Virgil... but it's really cool that you were. This is when it happened. "Hey man, check this out." And did we ever check it out.
With the ink pen, which was still in his mouth, the pen which I didn't pull out (I pulled the cigarette out, remember?) he began to sketch on the stack of napkins in front of him (which I am almost certain he simply materialized in front of us... where else would he get them?) a portrait of Luke Himself. Luke.
Here, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the actual sketch made by Virgil onto the napkin at City Bar
'Luke Himself' by Virgil, June 2004Now, I don't know if you know Luke or not, but Wow. Those of you who know Luke instantly notice how Virgil brilliantly caught the strong jaw and the relaxed forehead. Friends of Luke also instantly notice the striking resemblance because of LUKES LACK of EYES, NOSE, MOUTH, ETC. PICTURE PERFECT VIRGIL.
Now, as Virigl is working, I can't help but notice the smug looks on Chases and Lukes faces. I sense they are ready to go. Virgil needs a new pen in the middle of his work. A real artist... running out of ink in the middle of a work??? UNHEARD OF. Virgil assures us he will return after borrowing a pen from the bar. He can't get 5 steps away form the table without Luke and Chase streamlining for the exit. I follow. But not without getting our money's worth. Luke left Virgil a dollar bill for his work. A dollar I thought which not only paid from the sketch itself, but then pen as well. So off we run towards the car, myself feeling shame for leaving Virgil mid-stroke, others feeling relief from being away from Virgil.
On the way back to the car, various comments, jokes, etc were made about the unfolding of our night. Honestly, the only thing that could be agreed on was that... YES, IN FACT, VIRGIL HAD ZERO...ZERO ARMS.
Chase decided to let me know that I, in fact, would be going to hell because I referred to Virgil as "the Guy who had one prosthetic arm.... and ONE INVISIBLE ARM....) Remember, I'm going ot hell for this.
To conclude this long story, I want to warn you. Not just warn you. Ready you.
If you happen to come across this man. You may remember him from the Thursday Red and Black. Be kind. Understand. He's got a family to feed, just like the rest of us. ...He just can't use his arms to do it. Why? Because he doesn't have any. That's why. If you run into Virgil (the guy who obviously ran over the "make your arms invisible" mushroom, let him sketch your portrait. It'll only take a few mins, and you'll really be giving a helping hand....to a man with NO hands. You'll feel better about yourself for helping him, he'll feel better about having to hail a taxi tonight with his feet.
Added 06/20/04 @ 2:10 PM
Guess what. Since I'm such a nice guy, I did a little research. And I did it for the benefit of you all. I would hate to see what happened to Virgil happen to you.
So. If you are walking down the street and you see this mushroom:
DO NOT RUN OVER IT!!!!!!!!!
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