Reading List

So far I have read (more or less in this order):

- Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now! - Theodor Geisel

- Twilight - Stephenie Meyer (Guilty pleasure!)

- The Futures of Feminist Criticism: A Diary - Susan Stanford Friedman

- Caged Wisdom - George Bluth, Sr.

- Δημοκρατία - Plato (In the original Greek. Of course.)

- Goodbye, Arms - EArnest Hemingway (Yes, EArnest Hemingway is Ernest Hemingway's lesser known half-brother, twice removed.)

- Soy Hating Tweens - Boethius

- The Act of Marriage (Revised) - Tim LaHaye

- Commentary on the Commentary on Boethius ‘On the Trinity’ - Helena Bonham Carter

- All of The Hellenistic Philosophers - Long & Sedley (I don't do "various bits.")

- The Tyger Voyage - Richard Adams (Considered Adams' true masterpiece.)

- The Qur'an - Allah

- Thomas Aquinas. (Yeah. All of him. It was okay.)

- Beyond Good and Evil - Friedrich Nietzsche

- How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read - Pierre Bayard

- Singularities in Collapsing Stars and Expanding Universes - Stephen Hawking

Right now I am reading:

- The Brothers Grimm - Fyodor Dostoevsky

- Latin? Greek? Child's Play. Have You TRIED Reading An Asian Language? - Ho Chi Min

- I Had Some Pizza For Lunch - W.H. Ocares

- I Think I Found Us A House - Wendy Canou Skypenext (?)

- - Adrastos (So unreal, it supercedes a title.)

- True Pretentiousness - N.R. Williams

- Selected Poems - T.S. Eliot

Aclsusstehrfauctk.

Stop taking good pictures and slapping them on Flickr accounts. Everyone needs to just calm. Down.

If any of you put "metallic" for number six, I'm gonna be really upset.

I have many delightful things to look forward to over the next few months. These include:
- Wearing my new rain boots
- Acting a fool at the sold-out Ratatat concert
- Shoving Insomnia Cookies in my facehole
- Not regretting Halloween
- Camel, Tugboat, and Sal's return from abroad
- Becoming more proficient in Korean
- The Third Tri-Annual Onion-Fest Oh-Eight
- Concocting the Perfect Chicken Noodle Soup
- And of course, Joseph and Heather's Wilkesboro Bananza

What'cha got on that puppy? It was traumatic for everyone involved.

Stick it in your facehole.

Yes, I'll have a decaf water with organic ice.

I present to you: Pig in a Blanket.


Actually, I lied. It's a towel. Pig in a Towel. He says: "Who wants to take care of me while Jonathan is drafted into the Korean Army?" I'm just playing, but seriously - Pig needs a home while I'm abroad. Any takers?

Hey there, Sailor. Did you just step off the S.S. Fabulous?

The Second Tri-Annual OnionFest Oh-Eight Formerly Known As The Second Bi-Annual OnionFest Oh-Eight is coming. Is your stomach ready?

Cozy interlude.

Ridiculous blogging has reached fever pitch. In response, I've decided to let Pig write this entry.

jiu [-l8

Profound, no? Indeed, this entry took him a full 3 minutes to type out. 'Tis true. He's quite the tired now after a most taxing endevour. He has since decided to take a nappy nap to the lull of Ben Gibbard.

Would you like some bread? Would you like some bread?

Restaurants ravaged: 2
Distance between restaurants (in miles): 1.3
Deep fried onions devoured: 3
Calories consumed: 6630 (+ bread, entrees, and dessert)
Trips to the bathroom: 3
Biffs met: 1
Existential elevators: Let's talk about this.
Conversations-over-the-head: 17.3
Turn to the left: MEDIAN! MEDIAN! POLE!
Date for The Second Bi-Annual OnionFest Oh-Eight: TBD

Thanks The First Bi-Annual OnionFest Oh-Eight participants for a fantastic evening!

Stirred with aurum.

SMMG's presents:

The First Bi-Annual Onionfest Oh-Eight.

We have so much in common, we both love soup and snow peas, we love the outdoors, and talking and not talking. We could not talk or talk forever and still find things to not talk about. That's not a bee, that's a bear in a bee costume. This is my euphemism, Stephan.

The players are trying to get the booty.

Ineffective conversation of the day:
Choice Cuts: My dad played in the Davis Cup.
Ginger: Yeah right.

Overly ineffective conversation of the day:
As they stop each other next to Phillips.
Non-descript Asian Boy: You're such a stalker.
Non-descript North Faced Girl: You're such a stalker.
Long pause. Part ways.

Choice Cut logic:
Asian 1 searching for his size in a pair of women's shorts in Sears + Asian 1 attempting to find a proper fit in Boy's 8-13 gym shorts + a drastic craving for pineapple = Asian 1 is pregnant

You may have just poisoned Korea with your cash crop, Italy - but Truett Cathy is having the best blog post ever.

Ya know what I love? People who make jokes. Wanna know I love more than that? People who make jokes in the middle of class. What do I love even more than that? People who make jokes in the middle of class and then end up laughing at their own funny. Could I possibly love anything on God's green earth more than that? Of course! With all my heart and soul I just adore people who make jokes in the middle of class, laugh at themselves, don't realize that they're the only person in the room who's found anything remotely humorous in their outburst, are convinced that the sound of them laughing alone gives them full permission to try a second, third, fourth, even fifth time in less than two minutes - all the while conducting an ear-wrenching symphony of gum smacking and heavy breathing within two feet of my head. Yes. Indeed. That's what I love most.

In other news, 5 _____ has unveiled the highly-anticipated details of this millennium's premier social engagement.* Mark your calendars, lose some weight, and hide your leather bustier - because you are all invited (or not invited) to 5 _____'s Wedding Extravaganza. Who's the lucky groom? To be decided. When is it? Yet to be determined. But, where? Oh... I think you know. Indeed, the reception will be held at the behemoth of all wedding locations: the Chick-fil-A at the corner of Six Forks Road and Forum Drive. Yes, Chick-fil-A's outside seating area, conveniently situated next to the drive-thru ordering mic, makes it the ideal location for this (and any) wedding's 17 person guest list. I know what you're thinking... who's watching porn in here. I can't answer that now, but I can tell you who has made it through the rigorous selection process and can expect to be graced by a gold-encrusted Save the Date magnet. Check it.

1. 5 _____ - Bride
2. TBD - Groom
3. Tugboat - Maid of Honor
4. Asian 1 - Best Man (Yes, TBD doesn't have a say in the matter.)
5. Feed Bag - Bridesmaid #2
6. Camel - Groomsman #2 (Again, no say.)
7. Genevieve - Ring bearer
8. Mr. Outdoorsman - Father-o-Bride
9. Mrs. Outdoorsman - Mother-o-Bride
(Yeah, TBD's parents will not be in attendance.)
10. Mr. Outdoorsman, Jr. - Guest
11. Choice Cuts - Guest
12. Asian 1's Mother - Attendant
13. Camel's Mother - Attendant
14. Tootsie (Ginger's deceased turtle) - Lady in Waiting
15. Gary Busey - Master Ceremonies
16. Tracy Jordan - Pacific Rimmer
17. Truett Cathy - Guest of Honor**

Wanna come? Too bad. You're probably not invited and the stated guest list is final. Suckers. Also, guests will all be dining on cut-in-half sandwiches, lemonade, and IceDreams - of course.

* When trying to determine this millennium's premier event, a certain Wilkesboro blow-out was not considered. Had it been, it would obviously have given the event discussed above a run for its money.
** Neither 16. nor 17. are actually expected to attend.

Meet Satan.

Has he been kicking ass and taking names? Em, more like sleeping in and getting swimmer's ear.

According to Camel's mother, the recent burst of graffiti near Seven Oaks is only further indication that gangs are successfully infiltrating North Raleigh. I don't necessarily wanna expound any further on the topic. The only reason I really brought this up is so I could recount the conversation Camel and I were having in the car en route to the surprisingly well-decorated Red, Hot & Blue.

Asian 1: I mean, what do gangs do anyways?
Camel: You know... they're just bustin' caps and ridin' dirty.

Banter!

What's on the to-do list for tomorrow? Glad you asked! Tomorrow, I get the pleasure to pick up 5 _____, peace out to her ghetto-fab Alma mater, grab Feed Bag, and make our way to the nearest Mickey D's for a Fillet-o-Fish showdown. Get jealous.

You smoke it... it's legal...

Is this a riddle?

Okay, someone interpret the cheese.

As it turns out, my 8 o'clock resembles a one-armed four year old child whose mild case of ADHD is being remedied by a mixture of RC Cola and cocaine. Honesty? It's a circus. Huddled in my favorite seat towards the back of the room, I prefer to pass the majority of the time pretending I'm the only normal one. That girl who looks like a Seussical the Musical reject? The instructor that verbally curb stomps any opinions that differ from his? The loud-mouth boy who thinks he knows everything, breaths louder than an asthmatic after a 5K , and is under the delusion that he's going to be our next Commander in Chief? Yeah. I'm totally better than them. Actually, that's probably not true at all - but like I said, it's what I like to tell myself.

Also - Little Feet, Pretentious Camel, and I had an enchanting conversation over dinner tonight. Here's what we concluded. If I was an immigrant from Austria who:
- Had strung together a raft and by means of creeks and streams somehow found a way out of my land-locked home country through the rest of Europe, into the Atlantic, and to the shore of Elizabeth City, North Carolina
- Was the proud father of eight painfully talented singing rugrats birthed from my first two (and now deceased) wives
- Had a third wife carrying my ninth child
- Maintained an attractiveness not understood by the American standards of beauty
- With no money or valuable skills to speak of...
... my ideal job would be a porn star. Big surprise.

Not now. Not like this.

Shinsha Project: 1/1

Out pops the cracker, smacks you in the head,
Knives you in the neck, kicks you in the teeth.
Steel toe caps takes all your credit cards -
Get up get the gunge.

- Thom Yorke, "Wolf at the Door"

Quip. Snark. Non sequitur.

Verbal cellulite and a giant sex wall.

So to keep myself from fashioning my One Card into a razor blade and putting an end to the gout-induced boredom of my one o'clock - I've decided to blog. Currently, I'm sititng next to the better half of W.A.M. - AIM-musing at how the word "bitch" in all caps makes it that much more aggressive. bitch. BITCH. See?

Hm... listy list:
- I got a new haircut. Camel got it first. Actually, Ginger got it first and then gave it to Camel. He's shaping us all in his image. There's a joke somewhere about not following Fidel's example and keeping his Body Nazi regime, but I'm not feeling witty.
- There is plenty of Love in my desk drawers.
- Entourage is close to perfection.*
- Josh Weinstein is a lightweight pen-stealing fuckface.
- Democracy Now? Democracy later, I have to pee.

*It would be perfection is Sinbad had a cameo.

Excuse me. Yes, what the hell are you talking about?

Filetto-o-pesce e The Madre siamo nella classe. Siamo annoiati. Invia aiuto, per favore.

Please don't lynch Tiger Woods in a back alley.

Drunk Rastafarians Eating Armadillo Meat: A lesson on tact.

Walking down a darkened street. At night. In Mexico City. Avoiding robbery:
G: I have SO much money!

Post soccer game:
5_: I do know one thing in Spanish! Aloha!

Dinner:
A1: Quiero... quisiera guac and chi-chi?

Bullfight. Three rows behind a Jewish woman:
5_: She's Jewish.
A1: WHO'S JEWISH?!

Airplane:
A1: I'm feeling hot and bothered.
5_: Is it Jonathan?
A1: No, it's whoever's in front of me that I can't see.
G: ... that's five year old girl.

Stuffing cracker packets down the front of his shirt. Restaurant:
A1: Lime and Brandy? That's SO classless.

Witty banter from the cockpit:
Captain: Be sure to turn off your BlackBerrys, blueberries, raspberries, and unplug your George Foreman grills.

After not eating anything all day:
Flight attendant: We're happy to offer you three choices for your on-flight snack tonight: peanuts, cookies, or cheese crackers.
5_: YES! Let's each get one and share 'em!
Flight attendant: Actually. Just peanuts, bitches.
(Okay, she didn't really say that, but G really wanted her to.)

Looking out the plane window:
Woman with fugged-out mensies-colored hair: This is like, ya know, when you're flipping through the channels and you're like, "Wait, whoa - what was that?"
A1: No. No, it's not like that at all.

Final thoughts:
A1: I really hope that man got to have his booty call.
G: Ya know, some people wish for a safe flight, or that people get to be home with their families, but no.

Truthiness and a newly discovered love of Philip Larkin.

I've grown unabashedly accustomed to falling asleep in Nick and Andrew's room. I offer the last two nights as proof. Sometimes I intentionally want to have a sleepover and other times, like last night, I just lay down and stray in and out of consciousness until I eventually nestle into the third or fourth stage of my sleep cycle. It's not that I don't like my own bed - not by any means - but after midnight, and with a lack of sleep from the night before, their futons become unbelieveably seductive. With all the appeal of a well-mannered whore, Andrew's futon is the most comfortable and sleep compatible. Nick's futon, though slightly gimpy, has its own appeal too. Well that, or I'm just not a sleep diva like some gingers and pianoplayingcarobsessedbusinessschoolingphotographers I know. Just kidding, but seriously.

Who has plans for Valentine's Day? I do!

Also, Apple = Andrew porn.

"Let me put some pants on."

Asian 1: You're going on an IV leadership retreat?
Pretentious Camel: Yeah.
Asian 1: Why?
Pretentious Camel: They wanna make sure none of us have died.
Asian 1: You can't say that - people actually get cancer.
Pretentious Camel: No one in IV has cancer.
Asian 1: You don't know that.
Pretentious Camel: Fine. No one in IV publically has cancer.
Asian 1: Well, what if I got cancer? Would you be sad?
Pretentious Camel: [Thinks - Actually, I'm writing this with the help of P.C. and he says that I should have put Ruminates] Yeah, I would be.
Asian 1: [Touched] Really?
Pretentious Camel: Well. Yes. Actually, I would probably laugh first, but I would cry on the inside.
Asian 1: Not uh. You would laugh. I bet if I really got cancer, I'd tell you and you'd just laugh.
Pretentious Camel: That's only because I would think you were joking.
Asian 1: [Throws banana] Now I'm mad at you. You would laugh. Gah.

1 pot of pop-it-yourself-Orville Redenbacher-popping corn + 1 rat named Ratatouille + 1 ginger + 1 trash can kicking ballerina = the rest of my evening. Peace out, fools.