Kramer

Today is allegedly the 3rd Anniversary of Michael Richard's (AKA, Seinfeld's "Kramer") racist tirade at a comedy club in Las Angeles. If you're not aware of the situation, then let me explain:

Richards was performing his stand-up routine at a club (The Laugh Factory, I think?) when a couple of rowdy black guys started heckling him. At first, he ignored it as any professional should have. However, he eventually lost it and started screaming the N-Word, and about how "50 years ago you all would've been hanging from the trees with forks in your butts!". I'm still not sure what that last part means, but it was nonetheless offensive and Richards, dreading the impending media backlash, fled the public eye for several years.

While he was in absentia, he made a call to David Letterman during one of Letterman's shows and apologized and for a brief moment, we were all glad he wasn't some lunatic bigot. Unfortunately, just as soon as he'd popped back out into the spotlight, he disappeared again for another several years.

Fast forward to, uh, now. There was recently a scene from "Curb Your Enthusiasm" (the show is the platform for the famous Seinfeld reunion) that was satirizing that horrible event. Watch.


Bugh. I actually had to go to TMZ.com to get the video. *Shudder*
 
I thought it was funny. I thought it was a good move for him and might be a therapeutic experience both for the actor and the audience. But what happens? TMZ is running a huge campaign against the scene, calling it "inappropriate".
 
Alright, listen here, TMZ. Howabout you grow up, huh? You know what kind of people don't have a sense of rumour? Communists! If you don't laugh and sigh and enjoy the cathartic irony, then you, sir, are a Communist. I mean, sure, the guy went a tad nuts a couple of years ago, but seriously, it would take an otherworldly exhibition of restraint not to say something inflammatory towards those unruly hecklers. So, maybe the N-Word was a tad much. I'll give you that. But let me ask you this: If you're up on stage, and a kid with glasses starts pestering you, and you want to shut him up, what's the first thing you're going to make fun of? His glasses, of course! What about a fat kid? I'd be hard pressed not to believe that you wouldn't say something like, "Hey, Fatty McButterpants, all that interrupting you're doing is probably the most exercise you've gotten in a month!" What about Kasey Rogers? Er, well, that's a weird case because, to be frank, what ISN'T there to make fun of, amirite?
 
Anyway. I love Seinfeld and Michael Richard's "Kramer" is one of the greatest characters of all time. I just think that people that dwell on drama in the past are a lot like high schoolers, or FGCUers. Get over it and stop taking everything so seriously.
 
11:57PM and I am going to bed. 'Night!
 
-J

You to Thank

Joey Earle told me to write a blog, so I'm writing a blog.

Twitter is sort of my new blog, anyway. It's easier than having to log in and ramble when I can post bite-sized rambles whenever I want. Plus, my no-doubt diminishing fanbase coupled with my no-doubt diminishing writing ability is sort of a one-two punch to my motivation.

This is my sixth (or seventh?) week at FGCU. The first two weeks were very good. The food was good. The classes were good. The people were good. Slowly but surely, things went downhill. I think it's partly because every student at FGCU is a clone of Wes Diaz and Chase Wade. I can't talk to anyone unless the words "beer, drunk, high, police, boobs, or Tapout" are an integral part of the conversation. It's insane. People are running up and down the hallway, banging on doors at 1 in the AM. And the funniest thing (to me, at least) is that no one is awake before noon on weekends. NO ONE. FGCU is a Ghost Town before noon. I guess no one has jobs, or they're all sleeping off hangovers, or both.

Joey Earle called my videos stupid. Well, for your information, William, I'm going to try my hand at film production next semester, and I thought I'd get my feet wet with some computer animation, if that's fine with you. Punk. You want a funny video? Here's "Aquagize".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PyVlSfbXVXc

Or, better yet, here's the famous (or infamous) Ponce de Leon video that sent Jack and I to the Regional History Fair in Mr. McGarry's class. We lost to Canterbury and their ridiculous budget.

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=24003058

Hm. What else is happening? I'm sort of in a funk because all my friends are gone. I went to watch a Panther's game by myself at Beef O'Brady's. I was overwhelmingly lonesome (and the Panthers getting clobbered didn't help), so I printed out pictures of Joey, Patrick, Katie, and Dan's head and glued them to the chairs so I had someone to talk to. Later, I gelt really stupid because I couldn't finish my curly fries.

My days are filled with class and sleep now, with a little Andy Francis and Kaita Tinkoff on the weekend. I should be happy, and I was, but now I'm just bored. I'm no longer intellecutally stimulated by Kasenow every day (once a week via email, if I'm lucky), I am no longer able to make fun of Mr. Mayer behind his back with Dan, Liah, and Kaita. I no longer play the baritone sax in band, and that sucks.

Eh, looking back, I guess I'm being negative. I just miss you guys.

Do you ever stop to think about the origin of some of the most basic, fundamental foundations that our existance is based upon? No, I'm not talking about protozoa or evolution. I'm talking about something bigger and not soul-damning (technically...).

Gold.

Do you know why the American economy was the initial lodestone of our economy? Because it's valuable. Do you know why it's valuable? Because we said so. Gold doesn't have some magical property that renders it superior to other chemical elements. It's just pretty. I think this was the first case of "pretty=valuable". And now look where we are. People like Kim Kardashian and Ben Affleck are famous just because they're attractive. Also, if you tell me Ben Affleck is an actor, I will come to your house and kick your legs. That's not acting.

See you on Twitter!

-J

New Video!

Hey hey. The video I've been working on is finished. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then you probably won't think it's funny. It's animated, not live action.

Bah. I think I might leave Blogger in the dust soon. I hardly have any free time now.

Curse you, Introduction to World Literature and Culture!

Here's the video!


Also, I'm on Twitter now. I'm no more stimulating on there than I am on here, but it's easier to blurt out weird things I'm thinking.
-J

David

Why is ther a slice of cake in front of the Blogger logo on the homepage?

Yesterday was my first day working as a volunteer for the Salvation Army. While sifting through the mounds of musty clothing and being chastised by an old lady named Susan for being colorblind, I realized something.

You know when trendy girls brag about shopping at thrift stores? You know when they come into school looking like a hobo, but as soon as they mention that they bought this outfit at a thrift store, all of a sudden they're rocketed into the high-fashion limelight? Well, I don't know who "Ralph Lauren Blazer" is, but for Pete's sake, thrift stores are for poor income families that can hardly feed themselves, not for trendy teens whose parents are paying for their college! I mean, sure, I've bought a couple shirts from Family Thrift, and yes, I agree that there's no harm in being thrifty, but goodness, look at "Byrna Nicole Bag"! That tie was meant for a homeless guy so he could look nice while he was trying to get a job.

There's a really cool (and admittedly cute) American Express commercial featuring a bunch of ordinary objects,but they're manipulated to look like faces. Kaita would like it. Also, the background music is Bach's Cello Suite Prelude. Dan likes Bach. A little something for everybody.

Andy came over yesterday and rolled around on my bed and now it smells like baseball and narcisissm.

-J

GBlog

Hey everyone. To celebrate Blogger finally updating it's horrible text editor, I've decided to do something special. Those pictures I've been making are going to turn into full-blown movies. This is my maiden voyage.



Anyway, you guys can tell me what you'd like to see in my videos. Well, since only Kaita and Dan read my blog anymore, the pressure's on you two, you two.

See ya!

-J

Conjunction

I just realized something: I'll never be able to tell if I have pinkeye. Since I'm colorblind and all, I'm missing a component that is crucial for the identification of one of pinkeye's most telltale symptoms: pinkness. Two colons in two sentences, wow! I'm moving through these things faster than the hooker that looted DJ AM's New York apartment after she killed him!



I figure one day, I'll be walking around campus, and some innocent passerby will come up to me and say, "Gee, you don't look so good.". Then I'll say, "Yeah, well, that's what your idiot deadbeat father said when your whorebag mother's water broke, but you still made it. You're a miracle of science and nature.". After Donny McBeefynads knocks off my jawbone, it'll hit me that something might actually be wrong.



I'll end up asking everyone I see, "Does this look infected? And if it does, do you think it's virus-related or bacterium-based?" It's not the best way to meet new people, but it's better than, "Hey, I'm Jordan. No, I'm not a meth addict."

-J

PS - For some reason, now when you click the pictures within my post, they blow up to where you can actually see them. Way to go, Blogger.

Greg

Howdy folks.

My first week of college was relatively uneventful. I started all my classes and unceremoniously met up with some old Southies and SFCAians. My dorm is by far my favorite part about the whole experience, though. My own thermostat, my own locked door, my own...laundry basket. Ah, life is good.

I got an email from Kasenow recently. He said he hasn't noticed any intellectually stimulating students this year. Then he quoted Alexander Pope.

I went grocery shopping today at Target. Well, uh, by "grocery shopping", I mean I picked up some cheese, Triscuits, and Ho-Hos. I've never felt more collegiate.

I spend most of my free time playing on my laptop, Skyping with people, eating, and hanging out with K. Tinkoff. Suffice it to say that this is the most relaxed I've ever been at the start of a school year.

I was exiting Target with "groceries" in hand when I entered the glass-lobby-thing at the front of the store. There was a couple with a small child in front of me in a shopping cart. As I was walking through the automatic slidey doors, the kid manages to fall out of the shopping cart.

I stood there, horrified, but not because of the new dent in the kid's skull. The parents started chastising and yelling at the kid! Saying stuff like, "You deserved that one!", and, "Look what you did! You shoulda sat still!". Uh, pardon me, but your kid is broken, and all you can do is yell at it? Come on, humanity. Let's get our act together.

I saw a really dumb bumper sticker today. It was blue with big, white type that said "I Believe In EVOLUTION!". Under the word evolution was the word, "God", but "God" was scratched out. As most of you know, I'm a staunch Christian. I wasn't offended as a Christian, but as a human.

People like that are the reason there are wars and hate and racism and probably diabetes. I don't care what you believe in, how you act, your creed, or your heritage. I respect you as a person (unless you prove me otherwise). But when you go out of your way to stick it to an entire community to promote your own feeble opinion, that's when I start having problems with you. It's the same thing with Atheists. Just because you don't believe in God doesn't mean you all of a sudden have the right to go around protesting at churches and post "Jesus sux" on Christian websites and forums.

I read a news story the other day. It said that a large group (50 or so) of Atheists had a "reverse baptism". These people met in a public park and dressed in robes and took turns using blowdriers on each other while repeatedly chanting, "Logic over superstition.". Now, again, what you believe is your own business, but when you go so far as to mock a sacred tradition that dates back 3000 years just to make a statement, you need to re-evaluate your life, pal.

Faith is a personal choice and should never be a publicity stunt.

Okay! See you guys later!

-J

New Home!

Hey! Sorry for the writing sabbatical. I've moved into my FGCU dorm, and right now I'm typing on my brand-new (albeit defective...) laptop. I've decided I hate laptop keyboards!

Everything is cool! Kaita helped me make my dorm fabulous and has kept me company these past few days. Today I ran some errands around campus. I met my new band teacher. He's a really awesome guy, which is a welcome contrast to my previous experience with a band teacher. I also found out that I'm not allowed to drive to any of my classes, which is NOT a welcome contrast, since my first class is a good 30 (!) minute walk from my dorm. Rrrg.

I can't stand this little keyboard. My brother is giving me a decent USB keyboard in a week or so. I hope my laptop lasts that long. If you're not Kaita, then you wouldn't know that this laptop is somewhat broken. The screen is bad. Right now it's working, so keep your fingers crossed. Muh.

Alright, I'ma go eat. I'll write soon. Probably.

-J

Oh! Also, I got a Skype account, so log on and track me down. Bye!

Bucolic

Hey everybody. Kaita went to Miami with her family and I just got in from working in the rain. I figure after this post I'll go watch some old Steve McQueen movies I just Netflix'd, since I don't have much to do today.

I talked to my bud Jack (White) Trescott yesterday. He seems to be doing well. I was a tad disappointed to hear he traded in his cinematographic knowhow for a microscope and a labcoat, but I understand. It's hard to put food on the table when you want to be a musician/artist/movie maker. Oh well. Who knows?

I've never seen an attractive hobo. Maybe that's because good looks actually ARE the key to success! You don't even have to be super attractive, either. Basically, as long as you have all your teeth, shave once in a while, and don't smell like pee and beer, you're set!

Hm. Now that I'm actually looking over my picture there, I realize that I've never seen any lady hobos, either. The hobo world is a mystery to me. I do believe in that "attractive=success" mantra, though. Like it or not, people are mean, and unless you're easy on the eyes, you're going to have a tough time. Unless you're easy on the genitalia. Look at Britney Spears. Bah, uh, anyway. I don't think I'm an attractive person by society's (Abercrombie's) standards, but I have a lot of other things going for me. It's all about confidence and respect. If some guy (let's call him Kasey) thinks he could put a mirror store out of business as soon as he walks in the door, then he's screwing himself. Maybe he could shatter a mirror or two, but until he gets past things that he can't change, he's just ignorant. And ignorant is bad. Samuel Johnson said it best, I think:

"He that voluntarily continues ignorant is guilty of all the crimes which ignorance produces."

I've been seeing a lot of teaser trailers for the new Final Destination movie. Oh, whoops, sorry, the new THE Final Destination movie. This movie was interesting (but by no means good) the first time, but seriously, how many times can you have a scene in which a woman is too busy yelling at someone to notice she's about to be obliterated by some flying debris?

Look out, you dumb broad!

I've seen that like, a thousand times! If you're going to make a gore-horror ("Gorror) movie, then it has to have some substance behind it. The first Saw had more gore than America's 2000 Presidential Campaign, but the traps were clever, and the story concise. Albeit the Saw series has dragged itself out for way too long, but you get the point.

You know what movie I want to see? Inglorious Basterds. I don't know if I'm a bandwaggoner or not, but for every 10 gritty, super-realistic war or action movies, there's one completely over-the-top Quentin Tarantino movie. It's a refreshing palate cleanser.

-J

Espresso

Hey hey! Yesterday I bought a laptop. An HP laptop, to be precise, I guess. My parents had generously offered to pick up the tab, so I asked, "What's your price cap"? The said, "Well, we're not going over a thousand dollars. We'd like you to keep it under that.". No problem, I thought. So I hopped on HP.com and picked a model. The base specs weren't really what I was looking for, so I went component-by-component customizing this sucker. After half an hour, I had finished and the grand total had come to $999.55. Ha! I even had some left over cash! Now I can go spend that cool $.45 on a gumball or something.

That's what I imagine the inside of a septic tank looking like.

The meteor shower last night was really good. The minute Kaita and I walked out there, a giant fireball streaked across the sky. We ran and got some blankets and plopped down in the front yard. Between the swats at the incessant assault of mosquitoes and the fits of laughter caused by the local toads (Local Toads is a good band name), we kept careful watch on the night sky. While the subsequent meteors were not as spectacular as the first, there were a good amount of shooting stars. All in all, we spotted about 25.

I hate it when a company that is absolutely famous for a certain product runs out of the certain product. It happened to Taylor in Kansas. We went to Panera Bread and she ordered a sandwich. Everything would've been fine, except that Panera Bread quickly informed us that they had, in fact, run out of bread. Are you kidding me? That's like a gas station running out of gas, or Zumiez running out of low self-esteem! I think the very first chapter of any business management-type book should be "Don't make a certain product the lodestone of your company if you can't produce it.". DUH.

Ok, I think that's all. I can't wait until my laptop comes! Whee!

-J

Gene

Yesterday I spent the day with Andy Francis. We played Halo and went antique shopping, and it was good. Later that night, I met Joey Earle, Patrick Ryan, and Madison Wagner at the Ale House for a hearty helping of buffalo wings, and it was good. They're all leaving within the week for various colleges scattered across the US, and I had a good time. They're good people, although Patrick was on his phone for like, 45 minutes. He has horrible manners.

Tonight I'm going to Kaita's to watch the Perseids meteor shower, but I can't figure out when would be the best time to go outside and watch the sky. Google has yielded almost no viable results. I've gotten pages that say "9-11PM is best", and then when I double check with another page, it says "4-5AM is peak viewing time". Why, Google? Why must I suffer such an injustice at your e-hands?

I've been thinking a lot about information control. Censorship, meme theory, selective pressures, etc. If I ever compose my thoughts into a readable venue, I'll stimulate you with some good ol' fashioned conspiracy theories and whatnot. But not now. I'm tired. I'm stressed about school and whatnot, so I don't know when I'll be able to be illuminating again, but just wait it out.

Bye!

-J

Toto

Hey! I'm back from scenic Tonganoxie, Kansas! It was definitely an experience I won't soon forget. Shayla was glad to see us, and we were glad to get out of Ft. Myers for a week. Kansas is probably what you'd expect: lots of corn, lots of road, lots of hills, and not a lot of much else. Except Sonic Drive-In. Those things are everywhere! When you look out towards the hills in the distance, the horizon is punctuated with yellow and blue neon signs. It's kind of tragic, really. I'm not going to describe my entire vacation, since we really didn't do anything too amazing. We (Taylor and Shayla) went shopping, and we sampled a lot of the local cuisine. Tonganoxie is sort of like Sanibel Island; if you want to go somewhere cool, you have to drive for awhile. Anyway, I took some quick snapshots of my trip. Taylor has an $800 Nikon camera, so she was the principal photographer. I'ma try to get her to email me some of those.

Ahem! On to the memories!





This was my bed for 5 days. It was a spongy little futon, but it was comfortable in a weird, uncomfortable way.

Taylor just had to order her tater tots herself. Notice how Shayla seems used to this sort of behavior...

A very, very creepy doll in Shayla's basement. That thing gave me the jibblies.

I followed the girls around a mall for 3 hours on Wednesday, so Shayla bought me a book for being such a good sport. If you know me, you know I love this series and this author. I was very excited. However, my excitement was soon tempered when the girls dragged me into a thousand more stores. In all, we would spend about 6 hours at this mall.

The second photo was a 3D diorama of Super Mario World displayed in a storefront in downtown Lawrence. It was really cool. Sorry I had to put the description down here, but this damn Blogger format won't let me put text up there. I hate this thing.

When I returned to Ft. Myers yesterday at about 5:00PM, I was greeted by gray skies, upped gas prices, and a triple-homicide (or something of the like) in San Carlos Park.

Home, sweet home.

-J

Pretty

Last Sunday, my entire family embarked on a splendid vacation on the other side of Florida. I've been home alone since then, and even though I'm running out of food, I'm having a good time. Most of these days I've spent with Kaita, which is exactly how I wanted to spend them. Leah actually dropped by once, and she ate all my grapes.

Today, Kaita is hanging out with a friend, and I have the day to myself. I decided to go get a job. She had actually recently informed me that Borders is hiring. I figured I had a pretty good shot of getting hired, since I worked for a year at Barnes&Noble. When asking for a job application, my routine is as follows:

Dress nice, ask for manager, give a firm handshake, say I'm trying to get money for college, get the paper, fill it out, hand it back in.

The whole process usually takes only 20 minutes or so, depending on the length of the application.

Anyway, I waltzed in the door and confidently strode up to the nearest pudgy, unkempt, spectacled salesperson (or, PUSS) and inquired about the location of the nearest shift manager. She looked me over and said, "In regards to what?".



I was shocked. How dare she? Damnit, if I want to see their manager, then go GET them! The worst part about it is she was definitely, DEFINITELY patronizing me. I responded, "In regards to a potential employment opportunity and the prerequisite application forms, miss.". She then said, "Oh, here.". She handed me a tiny little card with a web address on it. She didn't get her manager, and she didn't give me an application form. I hate online applications. I'm too charasmatic for e-applying. If I can't shake someone's hand, flash them the famous Eller smile, and charm them with my...charm, then I have no chance. I guess this just stems from my distrust of the Internet.

I was watching Iron Chef (Japan), and during the commercial break, I saw a Miller Lite beer commercial. After watching a bunch of Abercrombie-esque men pat each other's backs and laugh in slow motion, the commercial concluded with, "The difference is Drinkability".

...What? "Drinkability"? That's not even a word! It's made up! What does "Drinkability" even mean? How easy it is to drink? The calibur of the drink? The quality of the hops? Of course the difference is "Drinkability", because YOU'RE THE ONLY BEER COMPANY THAT MAKES UP WORDS.

*pant pant pant gasp wheeze pass out*

-J

PS- I know Kaita hates it when I blow things out of proportion, but it's all for comedic effect. I don't really care that much. I just needed something to write about. Sorry, Sugarbob.

Haze

Last night, at about 10:00pm, I was in bed, watching TV, waiting to fall asleep. My phone rings, and it's my old friend Matt Johnston. He told me he was in my driveway with Ian Daniels. I hurriedly grabbed my glasses and went out to meet them. They came inside, and we drank tea and talked for a couple hours. They smoked a couple cigarettes on my patio and at about 12:30am, they left.

Talking to them was stimulating, enlightening, horrifying, and stupefying. We talked about everything, from our stint at Barnes&Noble to college to drugs to God. The conversations were rich with laughs and memories. They told me I needed to go out and experience a lot of things before I get too old. I was hesitant, mostly because they probably meant drugs, but I appreciated the insight. Ian Daniels is something else. He's like a myth. The kid falls asleep standing up, then wakes up and reminisces about how one time he took Ecstasy laced with heroine. Ever since he graduated last year, I'd been wondering when I'd see him again. Then, like some book or movie, he shows up on my doorstep in the middle of the night. Anyway. It was really nice to talk about sports and (dare I say it?) philosophies with them. They invited me on a road trip to Canada. I don't know if it'll pan out, but it sounds interesting. Don't know if I'm brave enough, though...

I don't know when I'll see them again, but I hope it's soon. It's 10 in the morning. I'm groggy and still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Last night is a memory, fragrant with nicotine. They left me with good advice, an idea of what college is like, an invitation to Canada, drug recommendations, cigarette ashes on my patio, and a crumpled tea bottle, courtesy of Ian.

Also, it was funny to hear Ian complain about how annoying Stevie Troulis was.

Bye!

-J

Redemption!

"Rrrrrrrgg!"

*boot*

"AAIIIEEEEEE!!"

Hey everyone! I'm back! Sorry about that guy. He won't be bothering us with his slimy pseodopods anytime soon.

Yesterday was my birthday. Kaita paid me a visit and bestowed upon me a gift of momentous proportions. And since she's the only one who reads this blog anymore, I can do this:

OMG THANX BABY FOR THE iPOD TUNER! I <3 U ;)!

But seriously, thanks a million. It works amazing. It's just what I needed.

And if by chance you aren't Kaita, why are you not calling me and apologizing for forgetting my birthday right now? Who knows when July 19th will come around again?!

See ya!

Oh, before I forget. I have a new email address. As of right now, it's the best way to keep in contact with me, since my phone is on the fritz and I don't have AIM or a Facebook. The address is:

ellerjc@gmail.com. Drop me a line or ten!

-J

YOU

Hey, hey, everybody! It's me! Lord Mycoplasma Pneumoniae! I hope you're enjoying your summer vacation as much as Mr. Eller here is enjoying his captivity! Anyway, I thought I'd write something enlightening, and since you're all a bunch of self-absorbed nitwits, I decided to write about, well, YOU.

You are a worthless waste of life, which is why — at this precise point in the time space continuum — you are reading this sentence. You think you should be doing something more productive, but for some reason, you aren't. You think your taste in music matters. You've seen every episode of Star Wars multiple times. You think playing video games makes you "alternative". You "spontaneously" quote Family Guy and Monty Python. You installed Linux on a partition because it seemed vaguely counter-cultural. Pretty much every human being you attended High School with remembers you only as, "that fat kid." You wear a fedora in public and believe this makes the world a more whimsical place. You went to a second-tier state college and joined the Roleplaying Club on the first day of orientation. You watch anime but insist you're not a fanboy. You quote internet memes at parties and then laugh alone, awkwardly. You own at least one cape which you wear "ironically" to comic conventions. You drive a 1990's Civic with crumbs on the floor and an "I roll 20's" bumper sticker. You write long posts in the Casual Encounters section of Craigslist but never get responses. You think people shouldn't judge you based on your meager accomplishments because you "could've done better if you tried". You hover around the edges of your social group, grasping at straws of approval. You get your ideas and arguments from blogs. You think playing Xbox Live makes you "competitive". You bought samurai swords with the money you saved bagging groceries, and you still aren't a ninja. You don't get invited, you tag along, which to you is a less offensive way to say "crash". You like to tell yourself you "only date nerds because they understand" you. You sit at your desk daydreaming about which X-Men power you want, while your peers are building the world in their image. Basically, you're horrible.

Thaaat's right, Eller. Drink it in. What's it feel like? Does it feel like...SUCK?

Bye!

-Lord Mycoplasma PneumoniAE

Takeover! HAHAHA!

Greetings, Fleshbags! It is I, Lord Mycoplasma Pneumoniae! I am one of the Germ Gods that your stupid friend Jordan C. Eller tried to bribe into not afflicting his girlfriend with my vile goodness! Well, guess what? Not only did I infect her, but I'm also taking over this blog! Weeheeheehee! As you can plainly see, your precious Eller is locked up nice and tight, just in case he tries to remove me from my new place of honor. Oh, don't look at me like that. You're not better than me. All you humans are the same! You think you're better than me! Well, you're not. Look at you, with all your Mybooks and Facety-Spaces, prancing around with your head full of eyeballs! You're all a bunch of sissys. Besides, that dufus offered his blog to me! Read his last stupid post! I'm not mean, I'm just on opportunist.

...Jeez, this guy is boring. All of his posts are just complaints about things he can't change! Well, I'm keeping Obsessio Depressio here locked up for quite awhile, so just sit back and enjoy the literary stylings of me!

And try to sneeze on someone for me today, will ya?

Join me next time when my guest will be Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, from the sinuses of a local migrant worker! Bye!

-Lord Mycoplasma Pneumoniae

Effigy

Kaita has a horrible sore throat, so I'm offering this blog as a sacrifice to the Germ Gods so they may be appeased and release her from their goopy, bacterium-like clutches. The Germ Gods can do anything they want with my Blogspot, just as long as as Kaita is spared from their wrath.

Don't get sick, Kaita!

Please!

-J

Obsolescence

Hey people.

I read a story in the news yesterday about how several Hispanic and African-American parents are suing a local community pool because of "racist comments" uttered by a couple of white folks. When a not-so-famous black athlete was reached for a statement, he called the situation "shocking and appalling" and he fully supported any legal action perpetrated by the beleaguered minority parents. My reaction to the story is best illustrated by this artist's rendering:

Needless to say, I was shocked, but not necessarily suprised. Why do people still not understand that racism exists? I mean, it's horrible, yeah, but so is expired milk. When milk expires, you don't scream, "AUGH! This is horrible! How can this be allowed to happen?!". You say, "Ew", throw it out and get some more. That's how racism should be treated. Don't try to make a statement by suing someone who is too ignorant and stupid to get the message in the first place. Just ignore it. I mean, sure, it's a great platform for people like that athlete to get their 15 minutes of fame by "sticking it to the man", but come on. We've been fighting racism for about 200 years now. This shouldn't be a new, terrifying subject. It's real freakin' life. Get over it. As long as there are two people left on the planet, one of them is going to hate the other one's guts. It's just how things go. Racists are idiots, but I gotta say I'm not too fond of the people who exploit themselves as victims of traumatic slander, either. As far as I'm concerned, both of these types of people are attention whores, and need to get over themselves.

You know what I've never understood?

This. When did horrible spelling equal great marketing? Personally, I don't want to buy any fire-protection merchandise from a company who as far as I can tell is run by a 1st-grader, or at least someone that has a 1st-grade understanding of the English language. This is not cute. It's quite gross, actually. I'm trying to think of a couple other companies with similar issues, but nothing is coming to mind. I know they're out there, though.

English is actually a pretty tough language. I was watching CSI: Miami a couple weeks ago, and realized how weird and sometimes stupid English actually is. Sigh, now that I think about it, English is really just a conglomeration of a bunch of other languages, so my point might end up being moot. ANYWAY. There's a character on CSI: Miami named "Calleigh Duquense". It's pronouced "Calley Doocayne". How weird is that? That fictional character has more unnecessary letters in her name than half the population of England (what kinda dope spells "color" and "humor" like "colour" and "humour"? Honestly!). Ugh. I don't know where this was supposed to go, so I'll stop. Basically, I think communicating is dumb. The end!

Oof.

-J

Stand By

Sorry for not writing recently. I'm re-evaluating myself. I'm re-thinking things. I don't feel comfortable writing while I'm mentally preoccupied, so I'm just going to wait until I iron myself out.

I am looking forward to college at FGCU. I'm looking forward to new people. New things, new ideas, new conversations. Most importantly, though, I'm looking forward to having my own dorm with a door I can lock. I'm tired of this cage of routines and obligations and falsities.

I hope everyone's having a satisfying, fulfilling summer. More power to ya!

I need a job.

-J

Eulogy

Ok, ok, I'm recanting my previous statement about posting a memoriam for all the dead celebrities. The reason? I was just notified by Kaita L. Tinkoff that TV pitchman Billy Mays has died.

This post is to honor the horde of celebrities that have kicked the bucket within the last few weeks. Also, the five deaths also conveniently fits my Looking Back For Science format, so...

LOOKING BACK...FOR SCIENCE!

Obituary Edition

David Carradine - Born 8 December 1936, died 3 June 2009.

David Carradine was was an American actor best known for his work in the 1970s television series Kung Fu and more recently in the Kill Bill films. He appeared in more than 100 feature films and was nominated four times for a Golden Globe Award. Basically, he was a cooler, more talented Chuck Norris. As one of the coolest white guys to ever learn martial arts, he laid the foundation for kung fu films in America.

Ed McMahon - Born 6 March 1926, died 23 June 2009

Ed was a decorated war veteran, an American comedian, game show host, announcer, and television personality. Most famous for his work on television as Johnny Carsons's announcer on The Tonight Show from 1962 to 1992, also as the host of the talent show Star Search from 1983 to 1995. He was just a nice, funny guy. I didn't know much about him, but I knew he was Johnny Carson's hilarious sidekick.

Farrah Fawcett - Born 2 February 1947, died 25 June 2009


Farrah was an American actress. A multiple Golden Globe and Emmy Award nominee, Fawcett rose to international fame when she first appeared as private investigator Jill Monroe in the TV series Charlie's Angels in 1976. That's the original series, not the Bernie Mac one. Fawcett was also a pop culture figure whose hairstyle was emulated by millions of young women and whose poster sales broke records, making her an international sex symbol in the 1970s and 1980s. Look at that hair! It looks like my high school senior portrait. Anyway. I saw a bunch of TV specials they did on her, and she was a real sweetheart. She died of butt cancer.

Michael Jackson - 29 August 1958, died 25 June 2009

What can be said about this guy that someone hasn't already said. We all know who he was. I'll admit, I didn't think he was a very good role model (to say the least), but the man knew his music. They didn't call him the "King of Pop" for nothing. His 1982 album Thriller remains the world's best selling album of all time, and four of his other solo studio are among the world's best-selling records, so he knew how to make money. Unfortunately, he died awash in debt and scandal. Which was sort of his own fault. But still, he was an American icon and a musical genius. Plus, Weird Al has parodied, like, 4 of his songs. Or something. Whee.

Billy Mays - Born 20 June 1958, died 28 June 2009

Oof. Didn't see this one coming. I take back most of the bad things I said about Billy. His voice might've been annoying, but he was good at what he did. I mean, he was the most memorable TV pitchman of all time. He died like, 5 hours ago. I just saw him doing a commercial this morning and I was reminded of my own feeble mortality, or something. No one knows yet what killed him, but the plane he was riding yesterday blew out a tire upon landing, and some junk hit him in the head. When asked about it, Billy said, "...I got a hard head."
Not hard enough, Billy. Not hard enough.

Rest in peace, celebrities. You provided me with minutes of entertainment during your lifetime. But seriously, if any famous people are reading this right now, you should definitely lay low for awhile. It's been a bad month for famous people.

I think Billy Mays death might have something to do with ShamWow's spokesperson Vince. Maybe it's a ploy for Vince to take over the infomercial empire. Hmm....

I think Dan is going to be the only one that thinks this is funny.





-J

Michael Jackson

Hello, wieners and whiners.

The recent events regarding the death of several pop(culture) icons has prompted me to make a statement. While I was considering writing the obnoxiously obligatory RIP Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, and David Carradine, I uncovered something much more pressing and disturbing.

Megan Fox's thumb.

Suffice it to say, that the thumb alone effectively cancels out any hotness and casts Megan Fox into the bin of Celebrity Butterfaces (right next to Hilary Swank and Bo Derek). I was alerted to this monstrosity by a friend of mine, and we agreed that this was far more important than an enjambed eulogy for people I didn't even care about.

I've heard of stuff like this. In the instance that a person loses a thumb, the doctors are able to graft the big toe in its entirety onto the hand, thus returning some functionality to hand. The only problem with Megan Fox is that...that's her real thumb. If that were my thumb, I would consider taking one of my toes (perhaps the one next to the big one) and replace it.

On the bright side, I'm sure it's handy for some things. Like hammering a nail. Plugging a hole in the roof. I'll bet she's good at handball.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and please, if you see Megan Fox, stare at her boobs or her butt or something, because once your gaze meets that profound protuberance, the entire illusion is ruined.

Have a nice freaking day.

-J

Beard

Yawn. Hey. What's up? Nothing. Okay, cool. See ya.

I really don't feel like doing a LOOKING BACK today, but I know you're probably foaming at the mouth waiting for this crap. Honestly, I've got a lot to do today, but I'm just going to get this out of the way. Besides, there's one event that I've been looking forward to covering. So, here goes a brief version of...

LOOKING BACK...FOR SCIENCE!

17 June 2009

1462 - Vlad the Impaler III attempts to assassinate Mehmed II, forcing him to retreat from Wallachia. Vlad is also known as "Dracula", and for having a very strange moustache.

He also was a brutal sadist with a passion for torture. Whee!

1898: Surrealist and artist M.C. Escher is born. He's one of my favorite artists. He hurts your mind.

Get it?

1972: The Watergate Scandal is discovered. I'm still not really sure what happened. I just figured it was...important.

1987: The last Dusky Seaside Sparrow dies, thus rendering the species extinct. The worst part? Their habitat was the Southern Florida marshes, with which we sprayed a bunch of chemicals to kill weeds. So...we killed them. Florida sucks.

1994: Following a televised low-speed highway chase, OJ Simpson is arrested for the murder of his wife and "friend". Today is the 15th anniversary of The Juice's debauchery. But the court found him innocent. So he wrote a book called, "If I Did It", detailing what he would've done if he actually killed those people. Then he got arrested like, 3 months ago for stealing some of his own sports memorabilia from a Las Vegas hotel. Basically, he's a degenerate.

And that's all for today. Thanks for reading another volume of...

LOOKING BACK...FOR SCIENCE!
17 June 2009

I've got stupid, 2-day FGCU Orientation tomorrow. Wish me luck. See ya!

Oh! Wait, wait. I found this video of Joaquin Phoenix (y'know, Johnny Cash in "Walk the Line"?) being a complete idiot on David Letterman's late-night TV program. I feel bad for Dave. He really tries to butter Joaquin up, and then just ends up making fun of him. Anyway, if you have an extra ten minutes, watch it. It's painful and funny. Like the guillotine!

-J

25

Hey, look at me. I've made it to post twenty-five.

I don't know why I write on this thing. I'm just another one of those self-indulgent little teenagers looking for a creative release. I guess this is a good alternative to drugs, or drinking...or becoming emo.

Emo...that sounds like something fine to write about.

I don't know where the whole "Emo Culture" came from. I think it stemmed from all the pseudo-punk music that started popping up in the 90's (Nirvana, Marilyn Manson, etc...). It's like a weaker, whinier version of Gothic, right? I mean, Goth's scare me. Seriously.

I wouldn't like to mess with one of those bad boys. Those people are hardcore weird. I'd make fun of them, but they'd probably file out of my attic or closet or something in the middle of the night and put a hex on me. Bah, uh, anyway. Yeah, Goth = Scary.

Emo kids...not so much. How can you possibly take them seriously? But then again, maybe that's why they're emo in the first place. Maybe I just don't get the overall appeal. Yeah, you may live in a 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom house in a gated community. And yeah, your parents might've given you lunch money and college money every other kind of money you could possibly want, but life still sucks enough to paint your face and wear girl/children's jeans to Muvico, right? The world just doesn't understand!

Oh, we understand. We understand all...too...well.

Humph. It's not my place to judge how other people live their lives, but come on. These kids have the highest "Make Fun Of" factor since William Hung! How can I, a perfectly normal and perfect human being, NOT make fun of a bunch of guys sitting in a corner taking turns using a girl's straightening iron (which I've actually seen, courtesy of Mr. Mayer's awful classroom management skills. David and Dan and Kaita can back me up.)? The one positive point about the emo kids is that they're just that: kids. Presumably, there's a point in their life when they realise that they've been acting and dressing like a douche and that life isn't that bad. Then, they go and slip into some jean shorts from Old Navy and a comfortable T-shirt, and go get a job and contribute to society. And I don't mean making YouTube videos. That's not contributing.

Ok. I'm done for now. See you Wednesday!

-J

PS - I know Muvico is now Hollywood Theatres or whatever. Don't correct me. Jerks!

Airline

Hey people.

Drinking water out of a glass really bugs me. Anyone that knows me knows that I usually drink water out of water bottles, which is fantastic. Kudos to the man who invented portable water. I say "man" because I can't name even one famous woman inventor. I would say Oprah, but I don't think "giving middle-aged housewives a reason to wake up in the morning" is a viable enough reason to warrant the title of "inventor". Bah, uh, anyway, water. Ice is the problem. Nothing ruins a good gulp of agua like the cold clinkety-clink of the ice banging against your teeth. It wouldn't be so bad if someone (Oprah?) invented ice that stayed at the bottom of the glass, so it wouldn't float to the top and freeze mah toofs. Or, better yet, someone should invent a cup with slots along the outside edge. That way, you could insert the ice into the glass and cool the beverage without having the ice actually touch the liquid.

Enough rambling. Here comes...

LOOKING BACK...FOR SCIENCE!

10 June 2009

323 BC - Macedonian king Alexander the Great dies. He was really...great.

1910 - American bluesman Howlin' Wolf is born. The original "Back Door Man". Speaking of "Back Door Man", you hear about that Adam Lambert?

1940 - Canada declares war on Italy. Nobody notices.

1947 - Saab produces it's first automobile. Nobody notices, again.

Meh.

1964 - Jimmy Chamberlain, drummer for the Smashing Pumpkins, is born. This guy is one of the best drummers in modern rock. AND he loves heroine. What a cool guy!

There goes another volume of...

LOOKING BACK...FOR SCIENCE!
10 June 2009

Alright, thanks for reading. Sorry today's post was brief, but I'm tired.

See ya!

-J

Pomp

Hey everyone.

I graduated last weekend. The ceremony didn't last as long as I'd expected, but I got to say hello (and goodbye) to most everyone I wanted to. Well, almost everyone. I couldn't find Kaita afterwards, but I checked in with her family and they tracked her down. Sorry, Kaita.

Kasenow wasn't (officially) present. That is, he wasn't in the student rows in the traditional gown garb. I wasn't suprised, and I don't think anyone else was, either. The man is a drifter. He blows in from somewhere, impacts some lives, hurts some feelings, wins some hearts, and then blows on out. He and his wife must have a very good relationship, since she's the only constant thing in his life.

You know who I would call if I needed a crime solved? Not Kyra Sedgwick.

AKA, TNT's "The Closer". Instead of solving crimes, she should be going around the country giving abstinence talks to teens. Why? Because she is the ultimate turn-off. She's like the miracle anti-erection drug. They should make this woman in pill form and distribute her to sexual deviants everywhere. She is the two-legged form of chemical castration. No wonder Kevin Bacon is gay. Ahem.

Ok, I think that's all. See ya.

-J

It's Over!

To commemorate my glorious completion of thirteen years of schooling, I'm not doing Looking Back For Science today. I'm taking a much-deserved sabbatical. See ya later!

-J

Carrot

Hi everyone. How's it going? Fantastic.

My mom made a scrumptious salmon-carrots-rice dinner tonight. As I was getting ready to turn off the TV and sit down, a freakin' birth control commercial came on. In a panic, I ran around coughing and sneezing and making all sorts of noises hoping to drown out the inevitable. I couldn't find the remote, and by the time I was able to yank the plug out of the wall, it was too late. Now, I may be old-fashioned, but hearing words like "flow" and "heavy" and "periods" right before I sit down to eat makes me downright sick. Seriously. Do we need to hear about these things at dinnertime? I can understand those weird infomercials and whatnot way early in the morning, because the only people that see those are senile old ladies that are way past childbearing years and little kids that have to get up to catch the bus who are too young to understand words like "maxipad" and "women". But DINNERTIME?! Come on, people! Please! No more! No more Yaz! No more anything, please! If it makes me a prude, so be it. Am I so wrong?

Hmph. I don't have much to write about. Business has been slow. Oh, I know! You know what I love?

Doodie. Er, no, wait, pudding! Chocolate pudding! Pudding is one of the greatest inventions by mankind. Where would we be without pudding? Nowhere, that's where. So this is for you, pudding. Enjoy it, and keep on being awesome:

Ode To Pudding
When I am weak with the toils of living,
No longer even breathing, blinking, taking, or giving,
Dare I reach for a gallon of iced cream?
Guaranteed to ache my stomach, and my esteem?
Mayhaps I desire a cake, of vanilla or marble,
Yet the preparation my mood almost certainly will garble,
Nay, please no cookies nor creams nor cakes,
All I require is a prodigious pudding intake,
The glorious substance, magnificent elixir,
Fantastic creation, ultimate fixer,
How can I describe pudding's wondrous texture,
Without turning this psalm into a enjambed, trite lecture?
All I will say is that life is exorbitantly rich
When all that's on your mind is "Pudding on the Ritz"

Thanks for reading. And props to anyone that gets that joke at the end. See ya later!

-J

PS-The poem got screwed up. Thanks Blogger, for your horrible, horrible "text editor" application. You are horrible. Anyway, those lines with one word are supposed to...oh, forget it. I've done this too many times.

Hungry

Hey ladies.

So, Obama has officially appointed Sonia Sotomayor to the position of Supreme Court Justice.

What a fox, right? Anyway, I approve this decision. She's good people. What I don't really approve of, however, is his doling out of stimulus packages to every company that whines enough. I think he should let some of those companies go under. Maybe some of the car companies. Companies succeed, companies fail. That is the way that the world works. It's survival of the fittest, baby, and if you can't make it a fiscal year without giving all of your executives a twenty-thousand million dollar raise. The main reason Obamarama is not letting these companies flounder is because of a significant reduction in job opportunities. My solution to that is quite simple:

Legalize prostitution. Bam. Fixed.

Prostitution has been around since the time of Jesus (or at least the 1970's) and has always persevered in the face of opposition, but now is the time for the oldest profession in the world takes center stage and pulls us out of our dire straits. No longer will Americans have to toil on the GM assembly lines or the banks. Anyone anywhere can simply sell their bodies for all the cold, hard cash they could ever need. Eventually, the notion of universal prostitution would become commonplace. Bringing your girlfriend over to meet your family would exciting and intimate instead of awkward and uncomfortable! After she's done doing all your relatives, you can go meet her folks and have your turn with her family tree! All I'm saying is that if we want to lower the jobless rate, prostitution seems like a pretty handy tool. Besides, nothing says "Stimulus Package" like package stimulation.

I did nothing in school today. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Seriously. Nothing. Nada. Why do I have to sit around and waste away in that prison when my teachers could just give me all my exams now? Or better yet, last week? I could've been living large by now! Screw you and your broken AC, SFMHS.

Okay, here we go. It's time again for...

LOOKING BACK...FOR SCIENCE!
27 May 2009

1840 - Niccolo Paganini, one of the most celebrated classical musicians of all time, dies. You probably know him from his very famous "Caprice in A Minor, Opus 1 Number 24", which is a timeless composition. You know how it goes. Dun dun dunnh dunnh dunnnnh dunh da! Remember?

1895 - Poet Oscar Wilde is imprisoned for sodomy. I guess I'm not surprised. Look at this guy:

You shouldn't be surprised, neither.

1945 - Bruce Cockburn is born. He's a Canadian singer. He also has the single most unfortunate last name ever bestowed upon mankind.

1975 - 32 people are killed in a car crash in the United Kingdom. This is the highest ever death toll in a road accident in the UK. They must be horrible drivers. At least we have something else besides bad teeth to make fun of them for now.

1975 - Andre 3000 is born. Y'know, "Hey Ya"? He did that. He's one classy guy. He seems like someone that would still refer to people as "cat". Like, "Yo, you're one cool cat", or something.

That's all for today. Thanks for reading another episode of...

LOOKING BACK...FOR SCIENCE!

Alright. Thanks, and I'll see if I can post again soon. Join me next time when my special guest will be Anita Blond, Hungarian pornographic actress!

Bye!

-J

Eros

Yeah, I know I didn't do "Looking Back For Science" yesterday. Sorry. I was busy. If you're really that torn up about it, you should find something more important to worry about.

You know what commercial product has the worst slogan? Hot Pockets. Do you know what the Hot Pockets slogan is? It's some lady saying, "Hot Pockets!". How dumb is that? People are "Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs", Frosted Flakes are "Grrreat!", and all Hot Pockets has going for it is...the name. I don't know, it's something that was bothering me.

I presented my portfolio to a humourless panel last night in Mrs. Hardman's room. I got a freakin' 80. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. "80" basically sums up my experience as a member of South Ft. Myers High School. I mean, it wasn't horrible, but it was kind of disappointing. Just like my grade.

I'm glad it's raining again. I got tired of everything being so brown and dry. I mean, I couldn't drive down 41 without seeing shrubs and medians spontaneously combust before my eyes. It was like a minefield.

"Aw dag, here comes another brushfire."

I saw something really stupid today in Mr. Roger's Marketing class. You see, all year, Tayler Anderson, Sundance, and Matt Calhoun have been making fun of this group of macho jocks that sit in the corner. All they talk about it boobs, cagefighting, drugs, cars, and tattoos. Y'know, typical macho stuff. These people (Nathan...something, Nick Martin, Simon...Brazilian Guy, and a couple other morons) are hands down the densest, most stupid fools I've ever seen. But today, the be-all end-all hilarious thing happened: they had a pushup contest. They moved a bunch of desks around and started compteting. Between pushups, the onlookers (only two dufuses went at a time) shouted typical macho things, like, "You're not doing 'em right!, Let me do it!, You're going to slow!, You didn't go all the way down!", nonsense like that. After they finished, we all clapped and told them how impressed we were. It was really, really pathetic. I guess this story didn't have much of a payoff.

Ok, let's get this over with.

LOOKING BACK...FOR SCIENCE!
21 May 2009

1856 - Lawrence, Kansas is captured and burned down by pro-slavery forces. This really doesn't mean much, but Shayla is from Kansas. And this sort of confirms my suspicions that Kansas is very, very racist.

1881 - Clara Barton founds the Red Cross. Big whoop. We'd be better off without them. I mean, we wouldn't have to listen to them whine about "donations" and "food cabinet shortages". Why don't they do something for themselves for a change. Whiners.

1927 - Charles Lindbergh touches down in Paris, completing the world's first nonstop flight across the Atlantic. So what? What did he do for me? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

1936 - Sada Abe is arrested after wandering the streets of Tokyo for days with her dead lover's severed genitals in her hand.

Kinky, neh?

1998 - Five abortion clinics in Miami are hit by an acid attack by a lone vigilante. Looking for a safe stance on abortion? Me neither!

And that's another pathetic edition of...

LOOKING BACK...FOR SCIENCE!

You know what word sounds like a bad word, but really isn't? "Pussyfooting". I just think it's funny. It basically means to beat around the bush (ha!). Okay, that's all.

See ya, fool!

-J

Enamel

Sorry for not doing "Looking Back..." this week. I've had a lot of stuff to deal with.

Today I got my first cavity drilled. Needless to say, the era of Jordan Eller's Dental Superiority has come to a close. If you've been keeping up with my ramblings, you'll know that I despise dental appointments, and this was shaping up to be no exception. I was at the office a whole freaking hour before my appointment, so I sat on a bench and read Gai-Jin and worked on my tan. It's about 2:20, and my appointment is a t 3:00 sharp, so I mosied on down to Dr. Ringland's Dental Wonderland and sat in the waiting room. I briefly met the gaze of a withered old lady, who smiled more with her eyes than with her teeth. I said, "Howdy" and grabbed some random men's magazine and plopped right down on those musty old chairs that've been there since the dawn of time. I expected to be kept waiting for about a half-hour, so I got comfortable. I guess I was pretty preoccupied with the "Useful Tips for Hiding a Boner" article, because, apparently, my dentist had been standing in the doorway calling my name for a good 45 seconds. I jolted and quickly put the magazine back and said "I only read those for the pictures of scantily clad women.". I walked into the depths of the facility, cold and embarrassed.

I slid into the dentist's chair and prepared for yet another episode of "Ask Jordan As Many Arbitrary Questions and Be As Condescending As Possible". For an accurate representation of the conversation, I had one of the various paparazzi that follows me around snap a photo of the encounter. This is how our talk went. Note the cool-man glasses:

Dentist: Hey Jordan! How've you been?

Jordo: I've been good. I'm just finishing up my senior year.

Dentist: Of high school?

Jordo: Er, uh, yeah.

Dentist: You have a girlfriend?

Jordo: What? Oh, yeah...yeah.

Dentist: Well, good for you! You're a man now!

Jordo: ...? Oh, yeah, thanks.

Dentist: Okay, here we go! *Shoves hand down Jordo's throat*

Jordo: Mmmphpphhaggh!

That's exactly what she said. Anyway, after she'd finished playing with her icepicks and such, she found a cavity. She expressed her disappointment and I expressed my disinterest. She began preparations for a filling and sealant. Almost immediately, every horrifying dentist-drilling scene I've ever seen on TV or film rushed into my head.

Especially this one. So she comes looming up over my gaping, straining face and asks me if I want any anesthetic. This was a particularly tough decision for me. I could either A) receive a shot directly into my gums, numbing most of my mouth and throat to avoid any pain, or B) forgo the painful prick but possibly endure a kind of pain I've never experienced before. Since I'm an adventurous young nipper, I decided to see how I'd fare without any drugs. My dentist was displeased, again. She told me how very few people are able to stand the pain, and that it would probably be best for me to be numbed. I said "Bring it on, Nurse Ratched". She commenced final preparations.

As the humming drill neared my face, I was beginning to have second and third and fourth and fifth thoughts. Seconds away was quite possibly one of the worst experiences of my week. She stuck the drill in my mouth and went to work. ...But I felt fine! I didn't feel any pain at all! She leaned over and said, "I'm not hurting you, am I?", and I said "Keep it comin' toots!". She proceeded to drill and seal and fill everything that needed work with nary a peep from li'l ol' me. I felt manly! I was telling myself, "Wow, next to making fun of Oprah and watching half of one whole football game, this is like, the manliest thing I've ever done!"

While my impeccable dental record is now, well, peccable, my Manly Meter has never been higher. Plus, it rained today. Which was good too.

Alright, I'm gonna go clip my fingernails and watch Game 7 between Detroit and Anaheim. It's on Versus if you want to watch. Hopefully it'll be more exciting than that Washington wash last night.

'Bye!

-J

Mother's Day

What's with the no comments on my last post? You know, if you guys aren't gonna read this crap, you can at least tell me. I'm doing this for you, after all.

Alright, jerks. I guess I'll have to write about something interesting to you. I shouldn't have to, since it's my journal and everything, but I'll try to think of something.

...Nope. I changed my mind. More stuff about me.

NOTE: This post is not that funny. It's mostly just me mumbling nonsense. Pay me no mind.

I took Kasenow's AP Exam last Thursday. Now that that's finished with, it's sort of rendered the rest of my school year somewhat pointless. I mean, that's the class where I applied myself most, and now that it's done with, I'm filled with a sense of nostalgia. I mean, I started out the year hating (but respecting) the guy, mostly because I wish I could be like him. A lot of people said I'm going to grow up to be like him. I don't know if I want to or not. I'd like to be as smart as him one day, but I don't want to be as detached as he is. Maybe I'll end up like him. I still remember one of the first things he said to me:

"Sarcasm is my only defense against a cold, cruel, and harsh world."

Bah. Either way, I'll never be able to grow a beard like that, and I don't think I'll ever be interested in antiques, and I wasn't enrolled in a private, all-boys boarding school, so maybe I've missed the boat. I guess I looked up to the guy. I know everyone loves Kasenow, but I didn't. I think he's smart, but I imagine that he's also tortured. Anyway, it was interesting looking into the face of my potential future self. I'll miss him.

Does any of that make sense? Sorry, I'm listening to a really spacey Smashing Pumpkins album right now, and everything's sort of stream-of-consciousness-esque. This is pure rambling.

I was working on this infernal "Portfolio" project today in KazzyWazzy's class when Kaita pointed out a very disturbing truth about the requirements. Apparently, we need a PowerPoint slide stating the "Purpose" of our presentation. I guess I don't think too much of it, but being as sharp as she is, she was immediately perplexed. She explained to me how weird it was that they're making us, the student, proclaim our perceived level of importance regarding our Portfolio. Like, they're ingraining the "significance" of this Portfolio crap into our psyche. She's right, though. I'm just going to BS most of it.

For the first time in my life, I could actually recognize the point in time when someone's presence becomes awkward. I was watching a video in Orchestra today, and this kid came up to me and sat next to me. I consider this kid my friend, but I guess I wasn't in a very talky mood. Weird, I know, but shut up for one second. After we sat there for about 20 seconds without any words between us, I eventually reached deep into my cache of stock conversation topics and pulled out "Nice lunchbox". So we got to talking about food, and then band, and then work, and then etc., etc. I don't find this guy's presence unsavory, I just pinpointed the amount of silence it takes for an encounter to become awkward.

...Whew. Alright, I think I'm good. Check back on Wednesday for Looking Back For Science. Also, be more generous with your comments. If no one's reading this, I'm done writing. I'll get a real journal. Y'know, with...pages.

-J