BORED

I feel like fucking Captain Murphey from that Sealab episode. I just want to go around my apartment screaming "BORED BORED BORED BORED BORED!". GOD I'm so fucking bored. I'm already a 6 pack and a few shots of vodka into the night. So it's helping a little, but I'm still fucking bored. I'm typing very angrily on the keyboard. The keys are screaming like little whiny bitches. They're going AHHH AHHH AHH DON'T POUND ME LIKE A RIDGEWOOD HOOKER. And I'm all like TAKE IT BITch. only not at all, cause, dammit, goddammnit. ARRGH. BORED. I do'nt know how many of you read this, and I don't knwo why. I take that back, I know how many read itn. Did you know almost half of the peopel that read this reside in Burlington VT? WHY. I don't know. And like the licks to the tootsie pop, the world may never know.

Daytona blows balls and I'll tell you why. Because so many goddamn fucktards live here. It's like a fucking beehive of fucktardedness. I don't know who the daytona queen bee is but shee needs to fucking stop. THis shit is getting out of hand. Everyday I leave my apartment it's like stupidity is sprayign at me like some sort of apocalyptic diharrea machine. Spraying ALL OVER THE GODDAMN PLACE. Oh look, there's some stupidity, oh theres' some more. Oh look , there's a steaming pile right over there. Let me check, oh yeah, it's stupid. Oh wait here comes some intelligence, oh wait, it was a strain of dung I had not yet incountered. How do you do mr. shit for brains thank you for driving a car. How are you spinner rims doing, I hear you can get a good deal on them over at the retarded faggot lot for fucktards... store.

Gargh, I'm angry. Like angry Jim. There's a cool guy. Let me tell you. He's this dumbass that write shit on a blog quite like mine. Only let me tell you a secret about this guy. He's an idiot. He writes shit that peopel have been talking about since I was a freshman, and I guess much longer than that. The fact that you put it on the internet does not make you some kind of fucking celebrity. Congrats, you think you have your own language or something because you use the word "cockblast" and other famously used internet subculture phrases. You certainly are a pioneer. Christopher Columbus would decend from heaven on a firey chariot of faggotry just to suck your 18" e-penis. Congrats as well, you're in the avion. There's a cool as fuck publication. THis is a newsapaper that survives solely on the fact that it rephrases and publishes news that other agencies around the country publish. Oh, there's a good one. If I wanted my news dumbed down I'd go to fucking www.newsforcockmongers.com... or something. That paper will publish fucking anything. If I sent them a picture of the dump I just layed in the toilet they'd print it and call it an editorial discussing the pros and cons of the fucking student government. But it's a good thing we have people like Angry Jim to remind me just how fucking repetetive the internet is. Enjoy your 15 minutes dumbass. And if lasts longer than that, this school is in fact dumber than I thought.

Thunk

That's a damn beautiful sound isn't it.

For those out of the loop, that's the sound of a pool ball hitting the bottom of the pocket. It is one of the most satisfying sounds I've ever come to know. And as I sit here at 3AM, after getting back from the pool hall at 2:15AM, and now playing 9 ball on some shitty flash site on the internet, I think it's safe to say I've developed quite an obsession with the game.

I said I was going to go to bed after that last rack... And now it's 3:18.
Mothertrucker.

I cannot afford another insomniac night. Today was a perfect example of why not. Last night I went to bed at, oh say, 5AM. Finally. Set my alarm for 7AM so I would have some time to hit the snooze button and take a shower before my 8AM. Of course I promptly awaken at 7:55. That's when the sudden 'oh shit' hits your brain. This is not unlike when you dry your face with the exact same portion of your towel you just dried off your nuts with. You notice it a split second later, and a small instant of terror pierces your mind. But then, what are you going to do? Not dry off? Exactly. So I rolled over, threw my alarm across the room, and skipped my second and third classes of the day. Baleedat.

Because I was devoid of anything remotely resembling motivation today.

Just lost another rack. What the shit. My online 9 ball rating is taking a dive that seems to be very parabolic in nature. I'm going to be a fucking zero before I quit for the night. Mark my words. Or Tom them, whomever you prefer.

I wish I had some matches to light my insanely scented candle.

Hold on a sec, I have to shoot.

Shit, I missed. Anyways, matches would be nice. God, this guy shoots as fast as old people fucking in molasses uphill. The matches would be nice to light this candle so my room wouldn't smell like fucking old donkey grundle anymore. After the apocalypse, what's left of CNN and the UN will trace the deadly disease back to my fucking hockey bag. People will be all, "DEAR GOD WHY DIDN'T YOU AIR IT OUT!?" And I'll be all, "I DID ASSHATS, BUT IT JUST MADE MY ENTIRE ROOM SMELL LIKE HORSESHIT."

And then they'd feel like assholes for getting all up in my kool-aid.
That deserves a picture. Picture power go...



Internet 9 Ball just crashed. Shitcock. I think that's a sign that it's time to stop.

It's 3:50AM.
I'm out.

Wake Up

I feel bad for people who get hangovers. It must suck for you guys. After polishing off the rest of my half-gallon of rum and a few beers later I can go into a nice alcohol induced sleep. I sleep like a fucking baby when I drink.

The rednecks are here. Yes folks, it's that time of year again. The Daytona 500 is today, so I really don't plan on leaving my house if I can help it. Basically unless there is a severe medical emergency, or I run out of booze, I wont be leaving. Usually I'd complain about all the shit that sucks when the 3/4 of a million or however many rednecks descend on my shitty college town. But this year really hasn't been that much of a hindrance for me. I swear I've hit every single time perfectly. Every time I've had to go to or from campus I've been about 15 minutes on average. That's pretty damn good considering it's raceweek. Not to mention yesterday when I went flying I hit the times absolutely perfect. I drove into campus during one of the races, so there was no one on the streets, and then when I came home the race was long over.

Oh yeah, flying. I flew for 4 hours yesterday. My brain asplode. I had such a raging headache after that marathon. It wasn't that the flying itself was hard. I just did some simple airwork, (reviews of slowflight, stalls, steepturns, etc.) and some performance landings out at X47. I had some interesting incidents while I was out at the lovely Flagler County Airport.

1. Some fucking banner tower cut me off.

Apparently if you're a banner tower you can completely disregard pattern etiquette. This fucker crossed the field perpendicular to the active runway, and then proceeded to do a 50 degree steep turn to bank back around for a landing on the active. The same active that I was currently on a 3/4 mile final for. Nice going dickhead, now I have to go around. That shit pisses me off more than anything else. If everyone else has to follow the rules, why don't you. Just because you're the only one here working doesn't mean you're fucking special. In all honesty if the mans aircraft had stalled out on his large bank and gone careening into the trees and exploded into a fireball, I probably wouldn't even tell anyone on the radio.

The FBO would be on the radio saying, "Excuse me, did a 152 just explode into the trees."

And I would reply, "I didn't see anything. Go back to watching Tin Cup you wanker."

2. I almost hit the Goodyear Blimp

Yes. The blimp was making its way back to Flagler from the Daytona Raceway and was coming in to land as I was doing my pattern work. Apparently blimps don't have to do patterns or follow any sort of procedure, because they just did whatever the hell they wanted. Everything was going to be fine as they went to land in the middle of the field, but there was a gust of wind or something and the blimp began to rise. So I shoved it into full rental power and climbed about 2-3 hundred feet and got out of their way. Yeah, it wasn't really all that close, but it's fun to say. "I almost hit the Goodyear blimp."

And all I could think about the entire time I was doing landings while the blimp was in the airspace was the quote from spaceballs, "Oh no, here comes the Badyear blimp."

Ahhhh, it was funnier in my head at the time I suppose.

Huzzah, I finally got my new pool cue. It's a Viking F92, and it's a sweet little unit.
She's a Pimpstress. That's for sure. Playing pool is so much more fun with a nice cue. It's a nicely weighted 19oz. And the linen wrap is such a step up from holding sweaty plastic the entire night.


End this entry for no reason and with no closure, you wont do it.

Brain hasn't exploded.

yet.

I know I haven't updated in like a week.

God, I've been fucking sick. I got 1 hour of sleep last night, because I was coughing so much. This chest cold is going to kill me. It wontfuckinggoaway.

Riding the Pine Pony

So, I dressed tonight for my first Riddle hockey game in quite some time. I haven't played in a game for about a year and a half. Basically since my dad died. So it was a little weird being on the bench again, but I think I got back into the swing of things well enough. Coming on very late in the season has me playing 3rd string defense, something I've never done in my life. It was a very new thing to me. Only getting 3 or 4 shifts a period and sitting the bench during special teams scenarios, like power plays or penalty kills. I guess I'm just used to being the one that was always put out during those situations. I don't know, hopefully next semester I'll get to show the coach a bit more how I can play and get back to (in my head) where I belong. Doesn't help any how out of shape I am at the time. I haven't been in good hockey shape since my freshman year. But for the rest of this season I'll be content just with doing whatever I can from where I am. I'll play my ass off on 3rd string and thank the coach for every shift he gives me. I don't know the coach very well, but he seems like he's got a good hockey head on his shoulders. I ended the night tonight with a +/- of 0. Which isn't really that good considering we won 10-4. I was on the ice for one of our goals, and I was scored on in a situation that was directly my fault. That was a bitch, cause I was focusing so hard on actually playing decent position during the time I was given. I got caught out of position pretty bad at one point, and the guy managed to get a shot off that dribbled in. Oh well, take it in and learn from it. Speaking of learning from it, I'm not so sure I'll be getting my skates sharpened at our local rink anymore. The guy who did my skates butchered them like I've never seen before. The outside edges on my skates were literally not to be found. I'm seriously considering shipping my skates back home to NH to get ground down and recut, it was that poor of a job.

Anyways, enough about hockey. Not much going on with flying. Finally got an instructor, and oddly enough it's my old RA from my freshman year. He's kind of goofy, but definitely a cool guy. It should be a fairly easy course, at least for the first half. It's just review of Private license stuff. I'm going to my first Commercial oral tomorrow around 1600 I believe. That in itself is cool, because most instructors when you put "all day" availability on the weekends will put you on ultra early in the morning to get the rest of the day off for them. So being able to actually sleep in will be nice.

Hmm, T-shirt shop stuff. Well, I've been working on one new design. It's not quite finished yet cause I need a good caption to top it off. I'll post it below, maybe someone can come up with a better caption than I. So if you think of a good one throw it in the comments.

Here it is:



Pretty funny, eh?

And with that I think I'll mix myself a particularly strong drink, and enjoy my last night of the weekend.

Peace out brussel sprout.

Intellectually Homeless

If I had to sum up this week thus far in one word, it would be irritating. This week has been so fucking irritating. The hardest thing I've had to do this week so far is a 15 minute presentation in my commercial pilot groundlab. And it was cake of the absolute fluffiest kind. My instructor was blown away by the fact that I had the ability to talk around a powerpoint slide as opposed to simply reading off of it.

Tangent:

I have to rant about this for a few seconds. People. I know most of you that read this are in college. If you have to give a presentation, do everything in your power when presenting to not make your listeners want to jam pens into their fucking brains through their ears. I have had to sit through 3 hours so far this week of the worst fucking presentations known to man. Yes, I know the aerodynamics and physics of flight can be very dull, but it doesn't have to be. I don't care what you're presenting. If all you do is sit up there at the computer and read off the slide, kill yourself. I despise these kinds of presentations with hate of a density currently immeasurable by humans. All you have to do is actually understand your subject material, and with just a few key words on a slide you can talk for a good minute or two. That's all it fucking takes. Just spend a bit of your precious time and make class more enjoyable for everyone. Keep classroom suicide down. And I'll bet you cats to cottonballs you'll get a better grade as well.

Reverse Tangent:

So yeah, class this week has just been something I have to go exist through until I can drive home and sleep again.

I love sleep.

I have no music. I have listened to every single piece of music on my computer so many times I dread hitting the open file button, as I don't want to really listen to any of it. I know all of you read the comments, I have the logs to prove it, and I know that the comments have a little button to make your own comments. So it would be nice if this time you take a second to drop an artist or song that you think rules ass. Cause I could use a little ass ruling (purely in the musical sense) right about now.

Oh yeah, me and Cafepress are fighting right now, because they say one of my designs is probably in violation of copyright. For those of you unaware of the shirt in question:



Yeah, so I didn't know there was a copyright on the image of Che. Last time I checked his commie ass is fucking dead. It's hard to take a digital piss in any corner of the internet and NOT hit a Che t-shirt. Not to mention it's an obvious parody, so I don't understand how it's a violation. But whatever, as I don't remotely have the ability to do my store without them. So their rule goes, and the shirt goes.

Oh yeah, and a kid giving a presentation said "Anal Attack" today. But that's another story.

In rereading this I realize I used the word fuck a lot. Sorry.

Made in Japan

Yesterday was an interesting day. And as I sit here still in a quasi-drunken state at 8AM unable to sleep, I figured I'd document it.

Japanese people being fucked up was one of the themes of yesterday. I don't even need to make any examples. They have the strangest fetishes of any group of people ever. I don't feel like explaining it to those who don't dig around in the darker corners of the internet.

So, first of all, this is the first weekend of the Daytona Race Weeks. "Sounds cool" says you. "Fucking blows" says me. There are so many fuck people here it's horrible. I was driving home yesterday being all about going to walmart to liberate myself some strawberry-banana orange juice, as well as other edibles. But when I turn onto the road there's a problem. The left turn lane to go into the walmart is backed up all the way to the next stoplight behind it. Promptly saying "screw this" I had to get across to the other lane for straight people. (Not straight like not gay, more like going straight at the light.) Of course there's 8.5x10^20 rednecks in the way. But I made it.

And then we decided to go play some pool, because that's what we do when we're bored. And by we I mean either Ashley or Dave and I. Dave was at work cause he's a hoser, so Ashley and I went. First we tried to go to Uncle Waldo's, cause the people there tend to smell less like urine and want to kill you less often. Well, we get there, and the entire parking lot, THE ENTIRE PARKING LOT, is full of fucking 4x4 trucks with NASCAR stickers fucking wallpapered all over them. So, upon uttering the phrase of the day, "screw this", we did a chandelle and headed north on Nova to go to Brown's. Brown's being the place where the people more often than not do smell like urine, and usually do want you to die. Well, we get there and the strangest thing happened. There was nobody there. It was a nice surprise, observe:



So we stayed there for about an hour and a half playing pool, watching Jimmy Neutron, and smelling like smoke. So, after 1.5 hours and $10 it was time to go home and be a lazy piece of crap until I found something to do for the night.

Alas, after not being home for long Michelle had gotten out of work early so she invited the three of us over to her house for drinking.

Tangent:
Ladies and gentlemen, word of advice, if somehow you can manage it, do not turn 21. It will make you so much more poor than you already are. I thought I was poor before, but now, geez. I know it's bad because I don't even have to rationalize the purchase when I make it. The money just flows out of my bank account and I have no regrets whatsoever. And this is coming from a guy who wont buy a new 3 dollar toothbrush because he'd rather wait for the next time he goes to the dentist. So let that be a warning to you.

Reverse tangent:
So I ended up going to walgreens and buying a half-gallon of Bacardi Lemon. A drink I had promised myself I would never do again. But I did it. So, I did like we used to do back in the woods in NH and proceeded to do a chug bacardi then chug the Dole juice. needless to say within about 45 minutes of actual drinking time I was off to the races. I kind of remember watching Bandits again (BEAVERS AND DUCKS), but don't quite remember the end.



Yeah, so I guess it was bandits. That wall was pretty hott, imo.

I've got a few more pictures...



Michelle probably saying what turned out to be her theme phrase for the night, "don't fucking break anything you drunk pieces of shit."



Ashley listening to Michelle and agreeing to try not to break anything.



And last but not least, me momentarily passed out on the couch. I would later sleep on the floor. I need to stop sleeping on floors, it's doing a number on my back.


I've got nothin'. There's nothing new in the store as of right now. I'll probably work on a shirt or two today, so check it out later tonight.

Pimpin' hoes, out here drivin' Caddies.

Well then. I guess the t-shirt shop was a good idea (thanks Trav). I've had more fun doing these shirts than I have doing much else lately. Let me get the shop stuff out of the way and post the new shirts...

My current pet favorite:



hahaha... Anyways, it's available at a long sleeve T right now. But as always if you want any of the designs on any different kind of shirt, let me know. I'll make it so.

Phase 1 in the "NH is ultra badass" campaign:



And in a slight deviation, I did a THONG design. Ha, check it:



I thought maybe some people would get a kick out of that. That's my response to that stupid "Nights I wont remember with people I wont forget" saying. God, I hate that thing. By the way, I have no fucking idea what women think is funny. So input would always be appreciated.

Oh yeah, and the beer stein is available. I can personalize those if someone wants one with their name on it or some shit. Or I'll do a custom design or something.

Anyways, non-store shit. Hmmmm... well, I just got my 1GB USB jump drive. It's pretty pimp thus far. It goes on my key ring and it stores stuff. I don't know what I was expecting, but right now it just sitting it's lazy ass on my key ring isn't doing it for me.

I haven't got a flight instructor yet for my commercial course. It probably has something to do with the flaming administrative guy. He was too busy running around setting curtains on fire to assign me a flight instructor. The man is so ridiculously flaming. His desktop is a Tina Turner montage. No further comment required.

Well, it's 5:00 on a Friday night. I believe that's the time non-alcoholics crack their first one. So with that, I'll take my leave of you.

And for the wimmins willing to give comedy input, the comment button is directly below.

Oh yeah.

Told someone I'd post the "intellectual rap lyrics" shops I did the other day.

Here they be:



There's a t-shirt print of ^that one in the shop.



Side note: I just found the battery charger for my camera this morning, so expect more camera dumps to be in my webshots gallery fairly soon.

T-1.5 hours until my first test of the day. Then begins my Thursday gauntlet.

Oh snap.

I have 3 tests tomorrow.

What the shit.

Turbines, Business, and Physics 2... in that order. Did they all get together and decide to get the biggest double-sided they could find and forgo the lube? I think so.

I should sleep now. Must study more in the morning.



Assholes.