So, it's been awhile. Let me update you on the happy haps (what's going on).
For you frequent nappers out there, my roommate and I discovered the most amazing, tranquil Pandora station ever. We took a brief nap (different beds) the other day to the "Calm Meditations" station. I may have been out for less than an hour, but I felt like I slept for a good eight. My body has never felt so at peace. Seriously, put this station on before falling asleep and you will be out cold. I'm listening to it right now and starting to doze off mid post.
Mustache Madness was last night on Stonemill. Although I was only there for a short amount of time, there were many creative mustaches in attendance. Some real, some a little less real. I tried to rock a mustache, but had a little trouble placing it in the right place. I accidentally ended up with a unibrow, making me look like a complete fool and a huge joke to everyone in attendance. So embarrassing...
I hate using a sink for the first time, especially when in a public restroom. Without fail, the water pressure is always greater than expected and water sprays outside the basin. But of course it only splashes on your pants, giving the impression that you peed yourself. Sometimes it's just a few sprinkles of water, but occasionally you'll turn on a sink that's suitable for a fire hose, leaving your pants dripping wet, and your friends wondering if you were ever potty trained. Just a small pet peeve.
I've been thinking lately about how unspicy my website looks. I mean blue is cool and all, but not even close to a "spicy" color. Plus, flames should be included somewhere. And these girls:
It's probably about time the website got a makeover. I doubt I'll do it though. It's a lot easier to change the way I feel about blue being a spicy color. I think I'll do that.
Speaking of spicy things, I went to Family Fun Day at the Cleveland Browns Stadium today. It was about 95 degrees, and easily the most humid day of the summer. It was fun, although it was miserably hot. My aunt works a concession stand during Browns and Cavs events, so I got a free hotdog and put spicy mustard on it. That's how the story relates to spicy things.
The Browns had an intrasquad scrimmage at 1 during Family Fun Day. It was the "White Team" vs. the "Brown Team." At first I thought it was a little racist and unfair, especially since the White Team would be made up of a couple quarterbacks, punter, kicker, tight ends, and a few offensive linemen. They would have about 3 people to play defense. Not cool.
That was before realizing they weren't splitting the teams based on skin color, but by a predetermined matter with one team wearing brown jerseys and the other one wearing white. That made a little more sense.
It turned out to be a glorified game of two hand touch football. We left at halftime due to the incredible heat and because the game was pretty boring.
Brady Quinn. What a stud... at least that's what my sister says.
This desire of mine most likely developed from my ancestors in the South (I'm praying that I have some). Being the planet's most graceful instrument, it amazes me so many bands lack the melodic twangs of the banjo. Listening to a talented banjoist (I have no idea if that's what they're called) gives me goosebumps. I'm sure 95% of the American population would agree. If I learned heaven's instrument (the harp is a close second), women would throw themselves at me, everyone would want to be my friend, I would be loved, and I would potentially be cooler.
Being a Vampire
Let's face it, girls these days (ages ranging from 12-65) love bloodsucking, pale skinned immortals. Not being one myself sets me back in the coolness book. Now, I did not read or see Twilight, but I have seen half of Van Helsing before getting bored, so I'm as much of a vampire expert as the next guy. And if Van Helsing is any indication, today's young women are into some pretty violent, kinky stuff. To up my coolness, I guess I could start by sleeping in a coffin all day. I already sleep in until 11 on the weekends, so what's another 10 hours?
I rest my case.
Wear My Sunglasses at Night
Although extremely dangerous, especially while driving, cool people like to throw caution to the wind to prove their badassness. Cool people don't really need eyesight to see anyway. They use instinct and a strong sense of smell to direct them to where the action is. That's why they always smell so good too. Cool people tend to lose their...cool when in the company of someone with B.O. They can whiff it from over 3 kilometers away (the study was done in Europe, hence the metric system). Long story short, I need to wear sunglasses at the most inappropriate times to potentially make me cooler.
Looking cool my friend, looking very cool.
Sit in a Freezer for an Extended Period of Time
Although this will not help me "look" cooler to people, it will definitely make me feel cooler. In fact, on a hot summer day this sounds rather appealing.
Heck, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that sitting in a fridge on a 90 degree day would actually make me "look" cooler. Everyone would be so jealous and wish they were me, sitting in the cozy, sub 30 degree ice box. I hear vampires don't have heartbeats or pulses and tend to be colder, so I can kill two birds with one stone.
Something to think about: when there is nothing in the news, the media still shoves breaking stories in our faces about absolutely nothing. Usually it's an opinion from someone with absolutely no credibility about something meaningless. I recently read a headline saying Hank Aaron wants the names of all people who tested positive for performance enhancing drugs in 2003 to be revealed. Personally, I think this could squeak by as a news item if Aaron had any authority over revealing the names. The writer tries his best to make Aaron a credible source by mentioning his Hall of Fame status, or calling him the "former home run king." In other words, he played baseball a long time ago.
Then there's the whole ordeal between Henry Gates and Sgt. Crowley that got blown WAY out of proportion. I remember watching the President's press conference. As soon as he said the word "stupidly," I knew it was going to be all over the news the next day. The media had a field day with that one. Hell, updates about the situation are still in the news today. Mr. Gates recently made a statement saying he likes Sgt. Crowley. Important stuff.
I try to keep up to date on current events, but it's so hard when I have to sift through stories about "15 year glue-sniffer realizes Elmer's is non-toxic," or "Purel only kills 99.98% of germs; man sues after finding .02% of germs on his hands," or "Giant meteor kills everyone in China."
I should just start getting my updates on current events from a reliable source: the local news.
But to tell the truth, I love the news. Some things you just can't make up. Like "Jobless graduate sues her college for $70,000." You feel bad for the girl because she can't find a job, but at the same time you realize she's a spoiled brat who doesn't deserve one. Not to mention the 2.7 GPA she says recruiters should be jumping all over.
Today is not my birthday. I'm sure those of you who don't know me very well would be misled by a title like that. I just have something to say about it. My birthday is awesome, or brilliant, for those of you who are British (lucky).
Why is it awesome? Is it because I get presents? Could it be the amount of free beverages I get the 21st time around? Possibly because without it I would not exist? Well...yes. All of those make it awesome. But I am not talking about birthdays in general, I'm talking about mine.
Let me take you back. The date: September 9th, ten years ago. It was probably the second most celebrated day that year right behind Christmas. Everyone was swept away by the date: 9/9/1999. No one could ever imagine that many nines on one day until now. In an objective and completely unbiased fact, it was the greatest day of the century. No one has seen anything quite like it since 8/8/1888, and most of those people were dead. Plus, there was 8/8/1888, 7/7/1777, 6/6/1666, but what comes after 9/9/1999? Nothing. It's the biggest date this millenium with more than 80% of the numbers matching.
Not to mention the SEGA DREAMCAST came out that day. Easily the best video game entertainment system of our generation.
When your birthday has the same date as it is the month, it's always cool when the last digit of the year also matches. This year, for example is 2009. So my birthday is 9/9/2009. Basically, it's a big deal.
I've always wanted to be a zookeeper in an awkward situation with a coworker. It's definitely blockbuster movie material. Think about it. I would say things like "Let's talk about the elephant in the room." The camera would then pan out to a large elephant standing next to me. Or I could say "I need to get this monkey of my back." The camera would pan out to a monkey doing backflips on my shoulders.
The movie would involve me saying one english idiom after another, followed by the camera zooming out to reveal a literal interpretation. It's genius really.
I read an article today about a man who revived a 45 million year old specie of yeast and then used it to brew beer. His original intent was to find some sort of medicinal purpose, but after exhausting any practical uses for it, had a friend talk to a brewer about making a prehistoric beverage. Apparently the drink tastes good too. It actually received excellent reviews from distinguished beer drinkers (red necks).
I really want to try this beer, merely for nostalgic purposes. I want to see if it will bring me back to a simpler time. A time when man did not have a care in the world. Because he didn't exist. A time when the most anything had to worry about was getting eaten by a 20 foot flesh-eating T-Rex on a rampage. A time when mosquitos were the size of my head and dying via tar pit was an inconvenient possibility. In essence, the good times. Plus it would be really cool to drink something that's 45 million years old. It's genius really.
I found out recently that the lady who protests in front of UD every Friday (the Hazing Lady for those of you who know her) teaches or taught or did something at Magnificat High School. It blew my mind to find out she does anything other than stand in front of the school Friday afternoons. I could have sworn I was paying for her services through my tuition. Doesn't every college have a woman who makes you feel incredibly awkward by singing to you as you try to cross the street? It's genius really.
